#but if yall want more you know where i am

[snapscube]

yall have to realize at some point that the obsession with what i am going to play in the future or how i am going to feel about the stuff i eventually play genuinely makes the experience of enjoying stuff right now in this moment a little bit worse every time. i am perfectly capable of thinking ahead for myself and planning something as simple as what the best order for me to play a silly game series is because there are literal decades of documentation and opinion and consensus on this stuff i can research with my own two hands. furthermore who gives a shit if later i am going to be less enthused about a character or a ship or have less evidence than i do now or whatever like.... i am here exactly where i'm at and i'm having fun talking about this stuff presently and it's such a damn bummer to have to constantly be ripped out of that because someone with more knowledge than me thinks they are doing me a favor by trying to be an oracle for how i am going to feel in the future. like it genuinely makes it very hard to want to share these things as i go along, you know. it sucks to have to consider just not posting about this stuff at all because of the poor impulse control of a select few when generally i really really love talking about this stuff with yall and sharing thoughts. i just really wish i could do that without some people treating me like a liveblog jukebox.

[hannahluvsbillie]

causal.

pairing: billie x reader

a/n: this is my first time writing a blurb like this! sorry if it’s lowkey messy and confusing, let me know if it is 😓. i came up with this idea half awake at 1 am and i thought i’d post it here!! ok bye im talking too much

warnings: none (maybe angst if you squint)

“this’ll be casual right?”

billie says, looking into your eyes. the moon shining through the windshield of her car, giving the car a type of lighting that can’t be recreated, especially as it’s shining on her.

you nod. you’ll regret nodding in the later months. when everything doesn’t feel casual. especially these car rides you two have. where she picks you up, then somehow you two end up in the backseat, her between your legs, praising you like your the only woman that really matters to her.

“yeah. causal.” you say under your breath.

billie just nods, smile still lingering on her face as she backs up out of the parking spot and starts to drive back to your apartment.

i tried to be the cool girl that holds her tounge and gives you space.

you and billie were driving, again. it’s become a weekly routine of yours. she picks you up, then she drives to nowhere in specific. then you end up in a parking lot, in the back seat. every. time.

suddenly, her phone lights up. out of pure instinct you look down at it, seeing a DM from instagram. you immediately recognize the username, that’s the girl you saw in her following. it was almost like the username lit up with red light to you.

billie glances over and sees you looking down at her phone, she casually puts her hand over the phone and flips it over to where you couldn’t see it. of course she’s hiding it from you.

whatever, it wasn’t like you two where exclusive. no matter how much you wished you two were, it would never happen.

a few weeks later, you two where in the same spot. the same thing happened. her phone lit up with the same username.

it may of been the lack of sleep you got last night, but you just couldn’t take it anymore.

“who’s that?” you say softly, glancing up at billie.

“hm?” she hums, her hand resting on your thigh. she looks down at her phone and if you weren’t staring at her, you wouldn’t of seen it. but the slightest bit of anxiety crosses her face.

“oh, just some girl.” she says, as if it’s the most obvious thing.

she does the same thing she did last time, and the time before last. she flips her phone over.

“are yall two… like a thing?” you say softly, your voice dripping with anxiety.

“don’t worry about it mama.” she says, looking over at you for a split second.

you wanted to chuck her phone out the window at that moment, irritated by her causal response.

you take a deep breath, this could either lead to another argument or to just a brush off response from her. deep down you hoped for the latter.

“how many girls do you talk to bills?” you say, your tone comes off annoyed. your true emotions showing.

her hand grips your thigh just a bit harder, and her eyebrows raised at your tone.

“whys it matter?”

“we aren’t exclusive.” she says the last sentence under her breath.

that last sentence felt like she just stabbed you in the chest. even though you knew deep down that was the truth, you had found yourself believing a false reality, that maybe she did want more with you. that you could be her one and only.

“oh- i was just wondering.” you say, sounding small. she always had a way to make you feel like you were in the wrong.

but no, it was all just a game to her. your just another one of the girls she talks to. you always will be to her.

[raineandsky]

A Date in Exchange

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7)

The villain turns up on the hero’s doorstep every week as promised after that. They always show up with a bouquet of burning reds and oranges and yellows, each bigger than the last, and the flames always find themselves face down in the hero’s bin.

Each week is something a little different—a movie night, a fancy meal, a game of Cluedo. The villain seems to get more and more disappointed each week. The hero takes enough pictures to appease their parents, and the villain enthusiastically escapes the disgusting cosiness of the hero’s house as soon as it’s over.

“It’s kind of cold, isn’t it?” the hero comments idly. It’s their night of stargazing, as far as their parents know, and the two of them are sitting on the cool grass of the hero’s garden. “Let me go grab a blanket.”

They haul themself to their feet with the dexterity of someone very good at pretending to not be in good shape, leaving the villain to sit on their shared little picnic blanket alone. It’s probably too small for two people, and neither of them are overly enthralled to cram onto the lackluster square—that much is obvious from how the villain contentedly spreads out the moment the hero stands. 

There’s a blanket draped over the sofa in the living room, and the hero grabs it without a thought. They turn back to the garden, fully prepared to step through the patio doors and hog most of its warmth for the rest of the evening, but they pause on the threshold.

The villain is leaning back on their hands, their gaze pointed to the sky overhead. Their lips are moving faintly, though from here the hero can’t hear what they’re saying. The hero’s mother was always so insistent on stringing fairy lights through her garden, and the hero had copied her in their own—they’re turned on tonight, washing the villain in a soft, heavenly glow. They look so serene, their focus fixed to the lights above, lit up like an angel, and the hero can’t help themself.

They raise their phone. They were always proud of the fact that it had such a good camera, and they couldn’t be more thankful for that as they frame their nemesis in its lens. With a hushed click, their phone preserves the moment forever.

They stand in the doorway for another solid minute, just watching; they’re not really sure why. They’ve never really seen the villain experience an emotion beyond violence, they suppose. It’s… a nice change of pace, they tell themself. Nothing more.

Eventually they force their legs to move again, crossing the grass with the blanket in tow. The villain glances up at them, still awash in yellow light, and the hero has to immediately revert to their usual ways to avoid saying wow.

“Are you talking to yourself?” they ask shortly, and the villain snorts.

“Constellations,” they say, as if that’s an answer. They clearly realise it’s not after a moment, adding: “My parents taught me the constellations when I was younger. You can see most of them tonight.”

The hero drops the blanket, landing half on the villain’s lap. They don’t bother to sit as they turn their gaze to the sky. “Big Dipper,” the villain points out, as if the hero can see where they’re pointing, “and the Little Dipper on the left.”

“Your parents astronomers or something?”

The villain smiles a little sadly, though their eyes stay fixed on the view. “They wanted to be. Too bad the agency had other ideas.”

Had. The hero doesn’t think they can do this. “Anyway, it’s late. You should go home.”

“Oh.” The villain glances at the clock on their own phone, and the hero notices the three people on their screensaver. “You finally realised you have all your little romantic pictures and I’ve overstayed my welcome?”

“Exactly,” the hero retorts shortly, and they don’t miss the slight frown their response receives. “Same time next week, [Villain].”

The hero can’t get their nemesis out fast enough. The villain seems to dawdle endlessly, picking their things up as slowly as humanly possible, but eventually the hero manages to slam the door in their face. They open their phone as they lean back against the door as if to keep them out, glancing down at the picture they took just minutes before. Some part of them can’t believe they never saw this before, another part disgusted at the thought. The villain is… pretty. It feels like a crime just to think that.

They glance out the window to the side of the door—the villain has already pulled their hood up, a shadow against the evening, anxious to disappear into the city. Their gait is hurried like they’re fleeing the scene as they hop over one of the neighbour’s fences and vanish.

They turn their phone off with a disheartened sigh, their stare locked onto the bin in the kitchen beyond. It smells so floral, so enticing, and it guides the hero towards it like a lighthouse in the storm. They flick it open, looking down at the carefully tied stems and the splash of vibrance beneath, and after a moment of deliberation fuelled by the overwhelming scent of flowers they pull them back out.

There’s a decorative vase on the kitchen table, and after another hesitant inner turmoil they place the flowers inside, slowly, as if they’ll explode if they rush. They’re stunning—matching the autumnal tiles of the room, matching their own hero’s uniform, matching the villain’s usual fire for life. That’s been lacking recently, only dampening each time they appear on the hero’s doorstep, and they haven’t figured out why.

Not that they care, obviously. The hero doesn’t give a damn about the villain. Their parents might get suspicious if they start looking miserable, is all. They just need to fix it so that their mother doesn’t start crying again. That’s all there is to it.

There’s a picture on the hero’s phone and a bright bouquet of flowers on their table that suggest otherwise, though.

(Next part)

Taglist: @criohfreeze

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

when the art block hitteth

[lizardinkart]

With the heavy caveat that I know people put their heart and soul into this show, having watched 6 seasons of this shit now, The Dragon Prince is just this to me

I root for this show as if it was my child’s little league team playing against the Dodgers. Like, they have the spirit, certainly. Can they actually hit a fastball going over 100mph? I think not.

[canisvesperus]

Ben Solo is baby (honk honk), Daenerys Targaryen is the rightful queen of Westeros, Anders was right (bombing the Catholic Church is always morally correct), and Eridan has never done a single thing wrong thing in his life.

[iliveinprocrasti-nationn]

one thing abt being disabled/chronically ill that some people don’t get is that sometimes body maintenance that ensures you have the absolute minimum amount of function can also be something that takes away a lot of control and autonomy. you can argue till the cows come home that making those decisions to try and help yourself (or realistically to try to make sure things aren’t worse than they already are) is something that exhibits control and autonomy and stuff, but they can be so limiting in practice because they’re things that take up so much time but have to be done to do anything else

[flamboyant-king]

You know me. I like barely ever show any NOT SAFE FOR WORK drawings on here. So instead, I'm sharing drawings of my face AS I was drawing each NOT SAFE FOR WORK thing.

And the subject is right there, smack dab in the middle. Being tormented by the sins of the egg. (I drew him really cute but I can't share the rest.)

ALSO, I'd like to state that it's not corngraphic except like two maybe, it's more so like violent. We are all just having fun beating this guy up. Like, step right up and stomp on his face type shih. I never ever ever draw violent stuff, unless it's lewling related, so this is like cathartic.

This uhh feeling will fade after Halloween hopefully and we'll go back to our regularly scheduled wholesomeness and cammypus.

[prostocupoftea]

I didnt post in a while so i though that i might post at least that

My light and shadows on skin study with @blackkatdraws 's Narrator bc apparently he just lives in my head rent free now (also get well soon, Kat! Please eat moderate amount of vitamins-)

If someone interested i am making my game now and consequently I am doing all art and coding and rn i am making monster designs and this is suprisingly hard so all my time is spent on that... also on procrastinating that... //subscribe 4 updates on that disaster)

[sea-buns]

there's this baby kitty in my neighborhood whose tail has been injured and as far as we know doesn't have any owners. we finally got her trusting enough to come up on the front porch and sleep, but the rush of power at being on higher ground must have gone to her head cuz she has since completely ignored us for 3 days while she stalks her terrorizer so hard he waits at her feet in fear of her weirdness. well i think the bout of ghosting us when we call for food time might be over cuz this morning there was a bird next to the front mat and she was screaming for sustenance. the thing is, earlier in the morning she was out there yelling but we didn't have time to feed her then. and we only saw the bird when we came back about an hour later so. either it was already there and we missed it or she said 'oh no food? i can trade u want trade? we share?' and ran to go find an offering. but also the bird she brought isn't one we really get at our feeders so this skinny little paperweight of a cat ran a fair distance somewhere and carried this bird that's the size of her head, if not bigger, back uphill, upstairs, through a patio gate, and gently lined it up next to the mat. not even on the mat. it was perfectly parallel but out of the way of where we walk. i maybe should have been more horrified than i was but frankly i've been missing her and i am flattered by the sentiment.

[mythcaels-a]

me @ me: do not think the thoughts of wanting to move blogs again

[charaunofficial]

Mod is this Dessmods december? Or your own version of her

(Nope! Dessmod is super cool but very obviously has an idea for what she's up to in their universe. This is my own :)

Honestly I think the only blog that, of those I've talked to, could be considered a part of this blog's canon would be Memo (and we have talked about it a bit) but iirc they still haven't made a solid decision on it and honestly I respect that! So for now, I am the one and only blog for this continuity, and it'll likely stay that way. I'm a bit finicky about that just because I do have a whole story in mind, and sorting out the lore and everything with someone I don't know that well is just a hassle I don't want to deal with right now, mostly because I don't have a ton of spare time.)

[snekdood]

i didn't grow up with a "community", i grew up around rich people. so forgive me if i'm not all "omigosh i love every1!!!!!!" all the time like yall, I grew up seeing the worst of humanity and thats my base understanding of it. teach me humans aren't selfish if thats true. yall havent really given me many reasons to believe that, just condemn me for feeling that way................................................,,,

[romantically-yours]

I desire romantically doing makeup with somebody

[aces-and-angels]

video taken from shahed's instagram follow: @shahednhall verification source (no. 224 on el-shab-hussein/nabulsi's list)

"I like to photograph everything. I like to collect special shots because the memory is not repeated. I like to make it in my memory and the memory of everyone. I did not like to share the destruction. I did not like to share the life that has become black and white despite this reality, but my message is to show the beauty of my family and how much they deserve life. I do not want them to appear in a picture they do not like and do not want anyone wish for it. The lens of my camera will continue to transmit the most beautiful shots. Get up, fight for me, a new danger that presses

I hope you save my life before it's too late.🙏💔"

- shahed (please read & share full post here)

no one should have to showcase their suffering for others to care. sadly, people only seem to mobilize after something truly horrific happens. i am begging you all not to wait for the next tragedy. there is no pause button, no reprieve, no escape from the suffering these families face on a daily basis. they all need your help now.

if you don't know her already, shahed is a 21 year old who used to be a student at al-azhar university before the genocide began. with both her parents having taken ill, she is the sole provider for her family right now, including her five siblings, youngest of whom is just a baby.

shahed is currently trying to put together an evacuation fund for her younger sisters (who have hepatitis and are severely ill.) they were recently removed from the clinic where they were getting treated due to overcrowding/because there were more pressing cases to be attended to, likely because of the massacres that took place days ago and are still happening today.

there is no room left for people's complacency-- it's okay if you're unable to donate right now-- what's not okay is assuming others will pick up your slack. just because your dash is full of 🍉content doesn't mean that's the case for others. you taking a second out of your day to spread shahed's campaign brings her that much closer to her goal. please do whatever you can to help her out.

SHAHED NEEDS TO REACH $40K USD BY THE END OF THE JULY IN ORDER TO GET HER FAMILY TO SAFETY

current stats: $34,137 raised

---

tagging for reach (sorry yall- if you wish to be removed from this list, please let me know, no hard feelings🖤)

@timetravellingkitty @meaganfoster @briarhips @mazzikah @mahoushojoe

@rhubarbspring @schoolhater @pcktknife @transmutationisms @sawasawako

@feluka @terroristiraqi @irhabiya @wellwaterhysteria @deepspaceboytoy

@post-brahminism @junglejim4322 @kibumkim @neechees @mangocheesecakes

@kyra45 @marnota @7bitter @tortiefrancis @toiletpotato

@fromjannah @omegaversereloaded @vague-humanoid @criptochecca @aristotels

@komsomolka @neptunerings @riding-with-the-wild-hunt @heritageposts @ot3

@amygdalae @ankle-beez @communistchilchuck @dykesbat @watermotif

@stuckinapril @violentrevolution @mavigator @lacecap @socalgal

@chilewithcarnage @ghelgheli @sayruq @northgazaupdates

[be-good-to-bugs]

when i feel very lonely i get fizzled out of doing anything after less than an hour