#but without those words

[future-circuit]

gay ass

[meamiiikiii]

silly comic based on a time i struggled to read live on stream :thumbsup:

context clip compilation below ASDASDFASA

(cw for brief mention of hospitals/strokes)

[bonefall]

Anyway. Bi and Mspec Lesbians aren't a hotly "debated" topic or even new to queer culture, it's just the newest thing that bullies who REALLY want to be homophobic and even racist use to justify harassing gay people they don't like.

It's the thinnest possible veneer of progressive language wrapped around TERF and reactionary rhetoric so that they can feel righteous for forming an angry mob against vulnerable targets. If you're gullible enough to fall for the newest wave of bigotry within the queer community, and turn on your allies because they're "confusing" or "invading your spaces," the SAME way they turned on bi/pan labels, trans people, xenogenders, neopronouns, and aroace people before this, then get lost.

[ilynpilled]

it frankly pisses me off that what is essentially “rapists and abusers should be depicted as monstrous caricatures because humanizing them is inappropriate” is considered a very moral and enlightened position to have on art by so many people. a rapist can feel pain, have moments of vulnerability, be amiable and charming, express remorse and compassion at times, be a victim themselves, and so on in real life. they are even capable of doing good things. they can have different sides to them and have individuals in their lives that they are kind to or have a decent relationship with. they will be a human being, and that fact encompasses a lot. conflating that with the claim that they are entitled to and deserve forgiveness or absolution is an issue. nurturing a mindset that believes they need to be one note and uncomplicated to be a correct and tasteful depiction of a rapist inadvertently falls in line with the logic of “how could they have possibly raped you? they are so normal and kind to me. they did all these good things here and there.” ok that doesn’t change that they are a rapist.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Don't Wormy About Me.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[hydrachea]

Thinking about Robin and Sunday's halos.

About how Robin's halo isn't a closed circle, but more like a branch forming a circular shape, where the start and stem don't touch. It's also uneven in shape and splits into three flowers, like it's allowed to grow freely, unobstructed. Something about Robin having left Penacony and having escaped the confines of her cage, being able to flourish. About her being able to let people in, and connect to them.

Meanwhile Sunday stayed behind to be the head of the Oak family and conform to the strict role that's expected of him, and his halo is a perfectly symmetrical shape that's practically fully closed off. It's sharp, almost more like a crown of thorns than a halo. And it almost doesn't have any openings to let anything, or anyone, in easily. It actively discourages getting close to it.

And then if you want to get sappy about, which I will - Sunday doesn't let anyone in, with that almost completely sealed, thorny halo of his... But there's an opening in Robin's halo, and so it can fit around Sunday's. Something about him always being able to find solace in her, because there's room for him in her (halo) heart always, by design.

Anyway I'm not normal about them.

[itsapmseymour]

List of things I’m currently convinced the Internet is lying about being bad:

-pineapple on pizza

-30 fps video games

-nickelback

Anything you wanna add?

[hrokkall]

DIVINE AUTOPSY

Text from a post by @bedrock-to-buildheight about angel anatomy and the physical manifestations of regret that can only be purged in a bloody vivisection.

[starryluminary]

You Matter To Me

Sara Bareilles (ft. Jason Mraz)

╾━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━╼

◃◃ II ▹▹

Noah and Cody have a quick chat.

Cody really didn't expect to like Noah as much as he does. He also didn't expect Noah to make him this happy. That's why it hurts when he realizes Noah's better off without him. Without his baggage, without his adversity, without his mess. Man what a mess it is. He wouldn't blame Noah in the least if he thought it was too much to handle and left without looking back.

Fortunately, Cody matters too much to Noah to let him go so easily. Cody couldn't be more grateful. Maybe one day he'll learn to tell him.

[darlingod]

I love the way + how different Jude and Cardan are when they speak and express themselves and how it shows in these two confessions especially. (also I <3 that both statements were denial proof lol cause dear gawd finaLLY—)

“I love you. I first started liking you when we went to talk to the rulers of the low Courts. You were funny, which was weird. And when we went to Hollow Hall, you were clever. I kept remembering how you’d been the one to get us out of the brugh after Dain’s coronation, right before I put that knife to your throat. After I tricked you into being the High King. I thought once you hated me, I could go back to hating you. But I didn’t. And I felt so stupid. I thought I would get my heart broken. I thought it was a weakness that you would use against me. But then you saved me from the Undersea when it would have been much more convenient to just leave me to rot. After that, I started to hope my feelings were returned. But then there was the exile—I hid a lot, I guess. I thought if I didn’t, if I let myself love you, I would burn up like a match. Like the whole matchbook.”

Jude: I love you (and this is why) (essay)

“It’s you I love. I spent much of my life guarding my heart. I guarded it so well that I could behave as though I didn’t have one at all. Even now, it is a shabby, worm-eaten, and scabrous thing. But it is yours. You probably guessed as much. But just in case you didn’t.”

Cardan: I love you (with my entire stupid fucking heart)(poem)

[frozen-seagrass]

The WALL-E au no one asked for

[tinyleaks]

hey friends, wanted to put some words out in the universe that sometimes i need to hear myself

you aren’t gross for liking something that most people consider “gross” or “weird”. it is okay to enjoy things that other people don’t understand, even things people reflexively make fun of. as long as you are being as hygenic as possible, cleaning up after yourself and not doing anything to risk your health, making sure to take breaks from it and stay hydrated between holds, and making sure to never include non-consenting parties in your kinky shenanigans – you’re fine.

if you’ve had to hide your interests from partners out of fear, awkwardly deflect conversations with friends, or heard people you look up to make off-handed remarks – you’re not alone.

no one fully 100% understands where kinks come from, but what we do know is we don’t choose which ones we get, and as long as all parties involved are consenting, happy and healthy: you aren’t doing anything wrong.

please don’t hate yourself over the things you love. be kind to yourself, even when other people aren’t. yes I’m getting sappy on my pee blog, because being “weird” can be really hard on the old mental health at times and i hope all of y’all don’t think any less of yourselves because of this stuff. peace out 💛

[silcoitus]

Reminder to please, please, PLEASE put your fics under a Read More. You can absolutely have a teaser at the top, but for the love of all things holy please slap that baby under a Read More. Don't subject the dash to a crazy long fic they gotta scroll through.

[thetarttfuldickhead]

Coach Beard has a secret Traitors Club. It consists of himself, Nate and Jamie, ie people who have (at least in the opinion of one Willis Beard) betrayed Ted Lasso – but who have also learned the error of their ways through the goodness of Ted’s gentle heart.

(Yes, yes, you might argue that Jamie’s insulting remarks about Ted in 1x10 is a reasonable reaction to what, from Jamie’s POV, looks like Ted unreasonably dumping him, but a, I’m not sure that Beard knows that, and b, I’m not sure that Beard cares about that. You might also argue that Nate and Jamie have both learned a lot of stuff from people other than Ted, but: see the a and b of the previous sentence. And anyway, this is Beard’s club and you don’t get a say in his absurd selection criteria.)

Beard doesn’t inform anyone of the club’s existence. That includes the other members, Nate and Jamie, who just suddenly finds themselves regularly invited out for drinks with the most mysterious man either of them have ever met.

There are a lot of weird but oddly good talks about feelings. There are silences neither Jamie nor Nate know what to do with. And then there’s the football strategy chatter, which unites them all in a wild and eager frenzy, and an unexpected but pleasant sense of shared understanding.

Nate think it’s nice that Beard wants to hang and he’s not one to look a gift horse in the mouth anyway, so he doesn’t question the set-up. Jamie generally assumes that given the choice anyone would always choose to hang with him always, so. He’ll indulge his coach. They have a shared love of trivia.

Eventually Beard learns of Rebecca’s early transgressions, and (secretely) inducts her into the secret club. Club meetings get a whole lot more interesting from there on out.

[thenewgirl76]

It's In My Blood

Okay, random idea centered around halfas that I just had to share.

What if besides death followed by resurrection via a source of ectoplasm, a human-ghost hybrid could also be created She Hulk style. And by that I mean the old school comics. Not that spiteful heap of garbage masquerading as a tv adaptation made by that toxically bitter hack Jessica Gao.

This can be applied to whatever hero/villain you choose, I'm going with Batman. Mostly because I haven't seen many half ghost Bruce Wayne posts.

Anyway, the scenario starts off with Alfred finding Danny roaming the streets in search of food due to running away from foster care. (Jack and Maddy left him there in the hopes of keeping him safe from the GIW after Wes finally succeeded in outing him to all of Amity) And through lots of gentle coaxing convinces him to let Alfred take him home.

Eventually Danny gets so attached he readily agrees to being adopted into the Wayne family by Alfred. Once enough trust has been built overtime to share identities Gotham automatically gains a new protector.

Then the further establishment of new relationships is suddenly interrupted by a full-scale alien invasion, requiring all hands on deck. Though all the heroes manage to hold their own for the most part it quickly becomes clear they may not win this battle if they don't find something to turn the tide in their favor.

They get that something in the form of Phantom rallying all his ghost allies/frenemies to join the fight. With their added power the entirety of the alien army is thoroughly beaten back. But not before Batman takes a hit hard enough to cause him to bleed out at an alarming rate.

The already dire situation worsens all the more when it's discovered that Batman is a rare blood type and no one in the batclan or even the other human heroes matches. All save for Phantom. Problem is, with all that ecto mixed with his blood a transfusion could possibly poison or worse kill his big brother. Everyone is aware of this. But any other option would take too long and Batman doesn't have much time left.

So with bated breath and reluctance Phantom gives his blood. For a few scary minutes it looks like Batman might be showing signs of rejection. But then he slowly begins to stabilize, giving the medical team much needed breathing room to get him properly tended to.

While Bats may be on the mend no one's relaxing just yet. And not for a lack of trying. It's just a little hard to be chill when Mr. Dark and Broody has started randomly going invisible or intangible, speaking with an echo, levitating over his bed, and overall become creepily unsettling to look at. Especially with that unnatural glow in his eyes.

[after-witch]

yandere kaveh & alhaitham imagine

word count: 2700ish

Synopsis: One of the stickiest ideas for a yandere Kaveh and Alhaitham sharing a darling that I have is Kaveh's softer nature and tendency towards soothing the understandably distressed darling, especially in contrast to Alhaitham's no-nonsense take on things, backfiring on Kaveh at some point.

notes: kidnapped reader, mentions of control & other kidnapping related elements

Let's say you're having one of your regular crisis moments over the realization that you're more or less stuck inside the house indefinitely. Sometimes, Alhaitham lets you go outside, but you basically just get to stand in a corner of the yard that's protected from all view so you can get a bit of sunlight every day. He holds your hand the entire time.

It's a bit of torture--you want fresh air, you want the sun, but you sure as hell don't want Alhaitham's hand on yours the whole time, grip tight, eyes scrutinizing. But he refuses to let Kaveh take you outside because he thinks (rightfully) that Kaveh will be too permissive with your ability to roam outdoors, so you have to put up with it even it makes your lips curl downward and your stomach roil.

But of course, standing outside for a little bit while Alhaitham breathes over your shoulder is not the same as getting to leave the house. Getting to have a life. Getting to experience the world.

So you're crying about it. And Kaveh is there to pull you into his lap and rub your back and let you rest your head on his shoulder as you sniffle and sob your way through everything bothering you.

And you sputter out that a certain festival is coming up, and it's one of your favorite things, and you've never missed it and now you'll never get to see it again!

You burst into sobs, almost hysterical ones, that take Kaveh so aback that he simply holds you tighter in his embrace. Tears come to his eyes at seeing you so upset.

"It's not practical, is it? Alhaitham wouldn't let you out of the house in your... current wardrobe." He gestures to your outfit, which is not something you (or Alhaitham, or Kaveh) would want to go out in public wearing.

Because right now, your clothing mostly consists of loose tops that barely cover your ass. The dresses and skirts and trousers that Kaveh bought for you were relegated to the locked storage in the basement after you had a particularly nasty tantrum about Alhaitham's penchant for under-dressing you, and you'll have to earn them back over time.

Such a thing is not something Kaveh approves of--he thinks you should be able to wear whatever you want, and he can't fathom why Alhaitham doesn't appreciate the way your eyes sparkle and your face lights up when you wear something that you actually enjoy. Especially something flouncy and frilly and colorful. But it's not his choice, and all he can do is grimace and pat your shoulder in sympathy when you continually tug the top of the shirts down to give yourself more modesty.

You sniffle, a bit of snot bubbling in your nostrils, and if it was anyone else, Kaveh would shudder. But it's you, so all he does is lean over and grab a tissue to hold it to your nose and let you blow. He kisses your forehead once you've done it.

"At... at the festival, you're supposed to wear clothes with certain flowers on it." Your voice is still choked with emotion, but you're calming down, which is good.

So he lets you keep talking, rubbing your back, trying to keep you calm. "That sounds pretty. It's a shame you don't have anything like that to wear." And he softens his voice so much, that even though his words might sound like a barb if they were coming from anyone else, to you it's just another sign that Kaveh is on your side.

He always plies his voice with sympathy and clucks, all things he knows help bring you back from your emotional ledge.

"But... if I had something to wear, I could go?"

You look up at him with such wide eyes, all glassy from your tears, and you look so damn pretty. He smiles, that little smile he gets on his face when you're getting in trouble and he's not allowed to stop it. His sympathy smile. His we're-in-this-together smile, as if you two were anywhere near close to sharing the same experience in this house.

And the words come out soft and fluid and not thought through, at least not in the way he should have. "Well, of course."

They're meant to soothe you, but they're not true. Because he knows that Alhaitham isn't going to buy you festival attire. And since he knows Alhaitham would never agree to such an outing, Kaveh won't buy it for you either. He also knows that you--sweet thing that you are--won't ask him to buy it for you, because it might make Alhaitham mad at him.

That's one blessed, beautiful thing about you... you never push Kaveh to do more than what he himself is willing to do on his own. Sneak you treats. Buy you pretty things. Let you stay up late when Alhaitham isn't home. All of these, he's willing to do, because Alhaitham will grumble and tell Kaveh he needs to stop pampering you or you'll never accept your proper place with them... but he won't do more than that.

But you never ask him for things that go Beyond that Point. You never ask Kaveh for your freedom, you never ask him to stop Alhaitham from belting you for wayward transgressions. Because you know that Alhaitham would be absolutely furious with him for doing such things.

And so, he knows you won't outright ask him to buy you an outfit for the festival. And since that's your only avenue for getting such an outfit, there's no harm in letting you hope for it, like you sometimes hope for other things. Like freedom.

Your eyes flick to and fro after he says this, and then you smile, a rare toothy smile that makes you look relieved and innocent. You wrap your arms tighter around him, and he's more than happy to return the embrace.

He strokes your hair and lets you calm down further, soothed at the thought of maybe attending this festival. He assumes in time, you'll forget. He'll get you something sweet from a local restaurant tonight, or offer to paint your nails a pretty color, and do his best to keep you occupied from your sadder thoughts.

And the matter is forgotten. Or so he thinks.

There's an interesting change in you after that conversation. Small changes, slow but sure.

You begin to sit quietly in the evenings while Alhaitham reads and Kaveh creates, working on your own little projects. You draw. You write. You started taking up embroidery, and Alhaitham (to Kaveh's surprise) agreed to get you some materials since you'd asked him in a shockingly submissive, subdued manner. It meant you were learning, Alhaitham said, and that deserved a reward. Most evenings you settle down and embroider large swatches of fabric, drawing on designs first before meticulously stitching them.

You don't argue as much. When it looks like you might lose your cool, Kaveh can see you biting your lip, clenching your fists, fighting down the words you want to say in favor of working with whatever Alhaitham wants you to do.

You start to talk more at shared mealtimes, even engaging Alhaitham in conversation on something that isn't "give me my freedom, you unbelievable asshole." You politely ask what he's been reading. You ask him his opinion on fireworks or how good he is at games of chance. You ask Kaveh the same.

It's cute. Kaveh thinks you're starting to get more used to the pair of them, even Alhaitham, and while he has no qualms about taking advantage of your aversion for Alhaitham to gather you in his arms, it is rather nice to see you getting along with scribe instead of spitting at him like a half-wild cat.

Until one morning when you waltz into the dining room wearing an outfit that neither one of them has purchased for you. An outfit made from familiar fabric, all decorated with embroidered flowers. Your hair is styled, and you've decorated your face with some of the makeup Kaveh has bought for you over time, even decorating your cheek with a pretty little flower drawn with a brush and potted eyeliner.

Alhaitham's eyes immediately narrow and look to Kaveh, as if he knows (and he's right) that Kaveh is to blame for whatever is going on. Kaveh's throat is so tight that it hurts when he swallows.

You're oblivious to it all, wearing a smile that can only be described as "drunk with happiness." You look at Alhaitham and then at Kaveh and ask the simple question--

"Are you ready to go?"

Alhaitham sets down the mug of coffee he'd be cradling and merely stares at you. His question is slow and careful.

"Where do you think we're going?"

There's a little hitch in your breath. Kaveh sees how one of your legs takes a half-step back, faltering. But you recover quickly and smile, eager and bright.

"The festival." You gesture to your clothes, and pat your hair, looking a little self-conscious. "Sorry, I overdid it a little. Um, I can paint flowers on you too, if you want them..."

Alhaitham doesn't respond, and you must take it for irritation at your suggestion, because you duck your head and apologize.

"Or-or not. Sorry. I didn't know if you'd want to dress up." You smile a thin, almost prim smile, and Kaveh can see the nervousness that's crept into your face, your body language. You know something's amiss, but you don't know what just yet.

Alhaitham keeps his face remarkably neutral when he delivers the first blow.

"We aren't going to any festival."

It stings, it really does, that your first instinct is to look at Kaveh with your wide, confused eyes.

"But Kaveh said--"

Alhaitham's head immediately snaps back towards Kaveh and if looks could kill, Kaveh would be dead on the spot.

"It doesn't matter what Kaveh said. I didn't agree to go to any festival."

Kaveh can see the way the bottom of your jaw begins to quiver, the way your bottom lip trembles with it. You swallow and wrap your arms around yourself in a protective gesture.

"But he said... he said if I had something to wear..." Your fingers play with the hem of your sleeves, which you embroidered with a spray of wildflowers. "So... so I made something."

You look up at the scribe hopefully, but Alhaitham doesn't budge.

"I never permitted any festival trip. You know that you aren't allowed out of the house. Now go take that off and--"

Your voice is choked when you interrupt, and you raise your tone at Alhaitham for the first time in a long time. For the first time since Kaveh told you that you could go to the festival, if you had something to wear.

"No!" The word is unacceptable, and you know it, and Kaveh knows it, and Alhaitham knows it, but you say it anyway. "Kaveh said we could go to the festival if--"

You stop when Kaveh says your name. He rarely interrupts when you and Alhaitham are going at it, because it's not his place, but this time.. it's his mess, for once, and he is the one who needs to pick up the pieces.

You look to him, a tearful sort of hope in your eyes. You're probably thinking that Kaveh is going to step forward and tell Alhaitham that he did say that, and that you will go to the festival. Maybe you think he'll talk Alhaitham into it, promise that you'll stay by their side the whole time, or only stay for a few hours before leaving. You think, regardless of the details, that for once Kaveh is going to stick up for you.

You don't think it for long.

"I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said that you could go to the festival. I wasn't thinking." Kaveh offers a frown. "I didn't think you'd be able to get an outfit together."

His voice is soft and measured, but he can see the way his words hit you, all the same.

"But I did make one and--"

Kaveh holds up his hand.

"I know. And it's very pretty, and you did such a wonderful job. But we can't go to the festival. I'm sorry. It's my fault."

You look at him and then at Alhaitham and back to him in quick succession.

"But you said." The last word is pinched and tight and Kaveh can see your throat working, swallowing, barely able to get the words out due to your emotions.

Kaveh offers his sympathy smile, but you're like a frightened deer, too wild and upset to take anything from it.

"I know. I was wrong." He gestures to your outfit. "Take it off, and we'll get you dressed in something else and have a nice quiet day together, okay?" He thinks to promise you treats or something from the market, but a reminder that you can't leave the house might not be the best idea.

It doesn't matter.

You shake your head. Your eyes are glassy again, full of pain and something that makes Kaveh's stomach feel sick--the hurt of betrayal.

"Kaveh, you said... you said we could go."

He repeats your name, a bit firmly now, and holds out his hands for the outfit you've made. And you're so unused to Kaveh talking with you with anything resembling sternness that you let out the softest little gasp, a hiccupping little cry that feels like a knife in his heart. Poor him. Poor you.

Your hands shake terribly as you undo the outfit you've made, pulling at straps you've stitched in to tie it altogether. Some of your tears drip onto the fabric.

The outfit slips off your body, and Kaveh takes it and drapes it over his arms, leaving you standing in front of them in your undergarments, arms limp at your side. The simpleness of your underclothes contrasted against the pretty way you've done your hair and the makeup on your face is striking.

The radiant smile and jubilant energy that has been replaced with you crying, body shaking with sobs that come out all choked, is painful to see. So is the way that the flower on your cheek has become distorted from tears running through it. It's an almost ridiculous visual representative of what is swirling through your chest and heart and soul right now--another dream of yours, taken away, crumpled up, ruined.

Kaveh wants to comfort you. Wants to hug you and kiss away those lovely tears. But he knows it would only hurt you more.

For once it's Alhaitham who directs you. Not in the sweet, soft way that Kaveh might have. Alhaitham doesn't wipe away your tears and kiss away your sorrows. But he puts a hand on your shoulder and pushes gently, redirecting you to the bathroom, where he will no doubt have you remove your makeup and undo your hair and tell you to remember that he's doing all this for your benefit.

The "I told you so, I told you that you'd spoil them too much one day" look Alhaitham gives him hurts, because for once, his landlord-roommate-captor-in-arms is right. He shouldn't have told you whatever you wanted to hear, just to calm you down. He should have thought things through, been more careful with his wording.

Hearing your choked sobs from the bathroom, only dimly muffled by the running water of the sink, is more than enough evidence.

It wasn't fair to give you hope that things were going to change for you. Because, as wrong as Kaveh knows it is, you're going to be with them for a long, long time. But you won't be living an open life. You won't be going to festivals or attending the markets or strolling the public gardens, talking to neighbors, making friends. You'll be here, with them and only them, where you belong, always and forever.

Letting you pretend otherwise is just cruel.