#but yk. win some lose some

[thelibraryiscool]

tbh reading good student papers makes it all worth it

[best-teen-polycule]

putting the persuasion in asian persuasion

[vullcanica]

Having a lot of fun thinking about nik having minor and increasingly weird curses on him for various periods of time. I'm talking things so casual he either doesn't notice them for a long while or doesn't care to break them. Couldn't drink wine without at least mildly choking on it around the 1750s. Still feels a hole burning into his tongue every time he says one particular old roman name. Kept getting struck by lightning during thunderstorms for a period of 30 years until he tracked it down to one particularly spiteful druid's bloodline. Most dogs are morally inclined to bite him. He has the opposite of a green thumb. And, since I'm thinking of an NPC medium for his story, I've decided they're the type to very quietly and cheekily slip him a karmic curse for bad luck whenever Nik comes around. It's the equivalent of finding a 'kick me' sign on his back every so often. He's metaphysically a chaotic patchwork of various energy and some magic from whatever witches or preternatural creatures he would've Gifted at the time, so little inconveniences like this often go unnoticed.

[rosesradio]

oh i finished the season btw. The last two episodes overall were really good, like the “on and off stage” stuff was exactly what i liked from the previous seasons. the ending with Denny’s and then the song was so sweet, it just wrapped it all up really nicely

i’m gonna miss the show, but i don’t plan to stop writing fic for it so long as some people are still interested. i’ve got the two mentioned Caswen one shots, a like 5 chapter Halloween fic idea, and like one or two long fics…but realistically i’ll probably just stick to the shorter fics lol

[nomaishuttle]

i do think polls were a mistake sry. or at least tourney blogs were

[charmac]

what’s ur main

It's @rainbat I don't really use it much, just occasional reblogs of things I like or find funny that aren't Sunny! It turns 10 next month which makes me feel very old, bc I've been on Tumblr for even longer than that

[grasslandgirl]

the fun part of going over my wc spreadsheet for 2022 and making a fresh one for 2023 is constantly being like "what the fuck was this wip again?" and "wait was that really that long??" and "why did i only write two hundred words of this??" and "omg i should work on this again" and "I can't believe i wrote 9000 words of that and still havent finished it" and "maybe 2023 will be the year i finish noble pining. or break 100k on it. or both"

[elliottheguy]

Koyanskaya got one look at my autistic swagger and couldn't help but summon herself to my Chaldea to make me sign the most malicious contract Gordolf has ever seen

[jwowwsboobs]

hi tumblr im back. kindof

[gemharvest]

I hate going on my old Deviantart cuz smthn smthn hate remembering the dumb shit I did when I was a kid but also there are some really endearing artifacts here. Bless little me posting Steven Universe screenshots with weird fucking titles instead of like. discussing it in journal/ status posts.

[zhuhongs]

i mean like... yes i have my friend and her bf but like... its not the sameeeee

[stinkle-mcfuckwit]

my job fucking sucks but i will say it's. so nice not freaking out about bills anymore

[ujunxverse]

been in tumblr for too long that i forgot how to promo my fics on ao3 or interact w other ao3 writers ;AKLJDFJ;A

[honeyvenommusic]

like i don’t think you understand. STRINGS. i have access to STRINGS IM CRY

[that-0rb]

Mine, Ours, Yours.

Flashes of the past flicker through his vision, memories of a time long forgotten by all. all but him.

their morning sun speckled bed. the visage of divinity beside him, basked in a ray of honeyed light. the divine form that lay next to him shifts in gentle rousing as he closes the book he had been reading. the contents of witch is lost upon him as the other rolls to gaze at him, their eyes like astral bodies caught in the blaze of a thousand dyeing stars. removing his reading glasses and placing both them and the book on his night stand he sifts to lean over his beloved, pressing his lips to their forehead breathlessly, wordlessly praising their very being. he leans back to admire their lustrous features through a canopy of his own long dark hair. they smile and try to brush back as much hair behind his ear as they can, it falls back down after a moment. he cups their face, treasuring this moment, etching every minute detain into his memory.

the night was warm, the willows hosting fireflies jamborees. he was sat under his favorite one, the oldest and tallest. he remembers planting it, he built the little bench that sits under it, to this tree he interned his deepest desires, his greatest secrets, his most depraved fantasies'. a hand comes through the leaves and catch's his attention. a head pokes through, the celestial visage of his heart puts him at ease. they spot him, sat on the little white bench, and smiles. instantly light up the expanse beneath the willow a hundred times over and then some, putting the fireflies to shame tenfold. his heart saunters over, so casual, effortless. as they place themselves next to him he takes a moment, a moment to admire the one who has captures his heart and soul. they tilt their head, smile growling a bit cheeky. he clears his throat, a bit embarrassed, beginning to tell them of the history of this, his, willow tree.

It's all ready! He was so excited! He had been for weeks, ever since he asked them to dinner. Them, the beauty he had been so nerves to speak too when he had first met. The floor boards creaked as they stepped into the room. That ethereal glow they had about them spilling over everting in sight, illuminating the corners of the room. He turned, hand out to guide the constellation of elegance to their seat. He took his beside them. They ate, laughed, drank, and he fell further for his sky. Them, in their dignity. Charm. Magnificence. Dressed like they created the universe itself. Adorned with jewels like the night sky with its stars. Smile like the sun itself. Eyes like never-ending nebulas of beauty and grace.

A moment ago the room was warm, he was eagerly waiting for his cosmos to return home. He had taken the day off to prepare his proposal. He was going to ask the stars in his sky to marry him. The door bell had rung, when he opened the door, though, it wasn't them. It was a dower looking officer, they handed him a letter and bid him a good night. He remembers thinking it was odd "An officer delivered a letter and not a currier?". He retrieved a letter opener from his office. As he read the damned thing tears streamed down his face. It was a notice of death. He collapsed, it was as if his soul, and body couldn't take the weight of the black hole that had just swallowed the stars from his sky. He could do nothing but sit on the floor of his cold office and sob. The proposal, the ring, the plan's all dashed in an instant. His core ached with lament for his sun. He hadn't even gotten the chance to tell them "Goodbye", or "I Love You" that day. They where gone by the time he woke up.

That house would stay empty for two decades after that day. T

he flowers bought for the surprise where still sitting rotted in their vase when the place went up in flames. The brilliant blaze a shadow of the grief and sorrow those walls still held. They where saturated with them, no matter what you could have tried, you couldn't have cleansed that house.

He watched the glowing house from his, their, willow tree. He held the ring he was going to prepose with, tracing the gems setting with his fingers absentmindedly. He wears both rings now. They match. They nestle together like cats curled around one another. He will never return that burning house. He'll never see their, the, willow tree or this little white bench again.

The world dimmed when that house grew cold, when it stopped being a home. When the letter came. The light of the wretched thing up in flames will never replace the star, the sun, it stole. But for just a fleeting moment it can be a guiding glow, a warm glance on the back of a husk of a man.

Now? Now he's sitting on the shore of an unfamiliar city, watching the waves roll by. He wont swim, he's never liked the water. He sawm for you, but it hurts him too much, still, to do things you liked. He wears the rings, he'll never stop. How many centuries has it been? Two or three, maybe. He misses your willow tree, and your little white bench. He misses the mornings he could wake up beside you, the little moments. He's crying now. It's too late at night for anyone to be around to witness his emotion.

At least… our moon hasn't changed.

[chaosmenu]

good short article on how venture capitalists have sterilized the film industry and made everything into franchises and ip oversaturation. its not saying anything super new but it condenses a lot of information & sources and it brings this stance into the general public