#dove.txt

[starfieldcanvas]

casual reminder that mobei-jun means "lord of the northern desert"

mo (漠) = desert

bei (北) = north

jun (君) = monarch/lord/ruler

based on how people frequently use "mobei-jun" in practice, i feel like this is...not common knowledge, perhaps?

in modern AUs it makes sense to make his name Mo Beijun with different characters instead, since Mo is a surname and Beijun is a given name, but in canon his name is literally his title as one of the lords of the Northern Desert clan

just feels like we have a parallel of the Cangse Sanren problem on our hands here

[loverofdoves]

cleaned up my main altar today (not pictured: my other altars)! my favorite place in my house ☺️

[shuicheese]

Nyohoho

[imnoturcatgirlwaifu]

Looksmaxxing is a stupid community. However the female variant of puppy/cat/deer/bunny/angel pretty makes my brain itch so much

[hawkmetri]

that prom scene of tory and robby dancing to "in your eyes" by the weeknd but instead it's hawkmetri.

[malleusdraconia]

[dandy-dove]

[1] | @ask-organized-chaos

He wasn’t given a straight answer, other than the fact that the other man did apparently live here. He wasn’t given a name either. He looked around the house as they entered, not far behind the presumably-younger man. The place looked like it had been cleaned up at some time, but now it looked… abandoned. Dusty. Like someone had lived here until one day they just didn’t, with the sole exception being that the lights were still clicked on in some rooms. It was a large house, too. No place for one young man to be living at alone. There had to be someone else here, but there was no sign of them.

He hesitated again at the stairs. Jacob began to follow, but his pace slowed, something agonizingly audible with the loud creaking of the stairs. Where was he being taken to? Why didn’t this guy have a phone on him? Maybe he’d left it in his room, or something, and maybe that was further up the stairs, but it was just more that was wrong. He glanced back towards the entrance of the house. It was scratching at his mind like a cat begging to be let in. Why wasn’t there a front door? Why was this house so empty? And why was he following this man upstairs, and to what end?

Jacob stopped at the top of the staircase and didn’t take a step further. The flooring was worse up here, dusty, torn up, the wallpaper was peeling, and the rooms up here didn’t have doors, either. There was an open window in front of him, with no lattice or glass, just… empty. His throat tightened and one of his hands gripped the top of the railing of the stairs. And then he remembered something, and reached in his back pocket for his phone.

It wasn’t there.

His mouth was dry, and while he was trying to keep calm, the anxiety was bubbling up higher and higher. You’re fine, he told himself. You’re fine. Maybe this guy’s just squatting here. Maybe he really wants to help.

No, he thought. This is too wrong. Something’s going to… he might be trying to rob me. Or hurt me—I can’t have gotten here up on my own. I need to… get out of here. Find somebody else. Or follow the road somewhere.

You’re going to be okay. He’s just trying to help; don’t be judgy. You don’t have any other option.

That part of him was right. He didn’t have any reason to believe the man he was following meant him any ill will. The circumstances were weird and frightening, but he needed help. He’d have to take what he could get and hope for the best. Finally, he edged forward a little further. “I just, um, I like riding when I can,” he said quickly, trying to distract himself. “I don’t go out much, but it’s fun. Do—uh. I’m sorry. I’m—it’s late, and I’m just… tired, I think, from all this—do you have a phone I can call someone with? I think I—” No. Don’t tell him you’ve lost your phone, idiot. Even if he doesn’t want to do anything right now that could… hell. If I’m asking for it, obviously I don’t have one I can use. “I. I think I’m fine, not hurt really, I just need to… call someone.”

[healingpolyphony]

I think I’ve come a long way in my healing journey, but it’s very painful, and especially recently my perspective is shifting and I can’t pretend everything is - or was - okay.

I hope this stops hurting soon :(

[starfieldcanvas]

I'm gonna blaze this post so my cat can judge a larger number of people

[loverofdoves]

that first sip of a drink that you dedicate to the Gods always tastes the best

[shuicheese]

years ago, tumblr would never let me queue this much, and i'm tempted to see if there's even a limit to this

[imnoturcatgirlwaifu]

Tumblr allowing pornographic content again (it seems so??) is literally the worst. Bots and Onlyfans in every tag I follow even in the most normal of tags ):

[ineffable-gallimaufry]

yeah i think you could say i'm swag and amazing (ironically and swaggily listening to a ghost's pumpkin soup ten hour version)

[malleusdraconia]

i shant lie, if i were not so exhausted of getting jumpscared by people interacting with my 7 year old v*ltron posts i’d probably be here more

[dandy-dove]

starter | @ask-organized-chaos

Jacob came to consciousness lying in someone’s backyard. It was nighttime, with crickets chirping loudly and raucously. For a second he was so confused that all he could do was look around, no coherent thought managing to pry its way past his subconsciousness for several long seconds. He didn’t recognize where he was at all, or how he’d gotten here, lying on the ground on his side.

He swallowed, pushing himself to sit up as he looked around again. There was no one around, but there was light, and he was in someone’s yard. That meant that, surely, he wasn’t alone. Help was nearby. All he had to do was seek it out.

His left shoulder hurt. His whole back did, actually, enough to make him hiss when he stood up, reaching up with one hand to rub at his shoulder. Anxiety settled in his stomach. What had happened? How had he gotten here? And most importantly, where was here?

He closed his eyes to focus for a few seconds, leaning on the back of the house. He racked his brain, and the static cleared a little. He’d been out, like he did on the weekends. Horse riding late into the afternoon, on an old trail and alone. He’d gotten—that’s right. That’s why his shoulder hurt; he’d gotten thrown, after his horse spooked and ran. He remembered following, calling out, but very little after that. The fuzz in his brain was too strong to pass the mental block, which was unfortunate, because he couldn’t piece together how wandering down a path in the countryside would in any way, shape, form or fashion lead him to waking up in the backyard of a suburban house in the middle of the night.

Jacob dusted himself off. He didn’t have any significant scrapes on him, luckily, just a bit of dirt and grass stains, and other than the aching he was otherwise intact. He started to round the house that he’d woken up at. The neighborhood was entirely quiet—he guessed that it had to be very late at night, then—and felt… unsettling. Wrong. But that was probably more his anxiety than anything else. Come on, Jake. You’re probably going to annoy the crap out of somebody but it’s better than spending the night outside, he thought to himself. Or at least anymore of the night.

When he came up to the front of the house, though, he was treated with a bizarre sight. There was a police car parked askew in the street, lights still on and flashing, and cars and road barriers similarly haphazardly littered the street. Hope piqued and then dropped again. For what reason would the police be out here? And why was it so quiet if it was? Why was everything so… disorganized?

Jacob walked up to the police car slowly, hand fiddling with his watch. He could hear the chatter of the police radio inside as he got closer, but it was garbled and unintelligible even when he strained his ears. The unsettling feeling in his stomach yawned wide as he tried to figure out any reason that any of this could be happening to him.

He was coming up with nothing.