#in a single conversation

[phddyke]

Huskerdust by episode 4: We had a misunderstanding that we then talked about in order to make up. We were honest about our feelings, let each other in, and even had a duet together! I, Husk, no longer feel like Angel is making fun of me by hitting on me, and I, Angel, no longer feel like Husker is rejecting me when he talks about boundaries. We are now kind to each other and get along really well!

Stolitz fans, 15 episodes in:

[transmascissues]

today, my coworkers’ refusal to see me as a man put one of our patients in a position where they felt unsafe for the third time. i’ve been at this job for less than two months total. i don’t even care about getting misgendered anymore, i just want the people we’re supposed to be taking care of to feel comfortable around me.

i work at a hospital where we have to supervise our patients in a lot of vulnerable situations. there are safeguarding rules in place for certain things that male employees aren’t allowed to be present for when it comes to female patients. and yet, the people training me and telling me what to do have repeatedly put me in situations where i’ve been forced to do things that the female patients aren’t comfortable with me doing. and because they have repeatedly failed to teach me the rules for doing my job as a man, i have no way of knowing when i’m crossing one of those lines unless one of the patients tells me.

i’ve had to watch a victim of SA stare at me in abject terror as my coworkers asked her to strip naked with me still in the room. it took several minutes for her to even be able to speak enough to ask if i could leave the room. i found out after that she broke down crying the moment i walked out. my biggest regret is that i didn’t realize what was happening fast enough to leave before she ever had to say something, because she shouldn’t have had to say it. i never should’ve been allowed in the room in the first place, because that’s not something male employees are supposed to be present for. but i didn’t know that yet, because i was training and i thought surely, they wouldn’t train me to do something that directly violated their own safeguarding rules. that moment was the first time, and it’s haunted me ever since, but it wasn’t the last time. not only did it happen for the third time today — it almost happened for the fourth, and would have if someone hadn’t spoken up to say they should pick someone else. i care for these people so deeply, it’s why i took this job, and i’m so tired of hearing the fear in their voices when they have to ask me not to do something i never should’ve been told to do.

i’m very used to the personal discomfort of being misgendered. i willingly deal with it a lot at work as well as in other situations, not because i’m in the closet (at this point in my medical transition that would be impossible), but because it’s such a frequent occurrence with my coworkers that we would never get anything done if i took the time to correct them every time. but to see it get to the point of causing such visceral discomfort in other people? people i’m supposed to be taking care of and keeping safe? that’s something else entirely, and i’m fucking exhausted.

and after all of that, some of them still look at me like i have two heads when they tell me what to do and i say “i can’t do that, only female employees can” because i’m learning now. clearly i’m already seen as a man by our patients, but my coworkers would still rather put them in an unsafe situation than just train me as a man.

[baldursgays3]

Hey, you know that character you like? Yeah, the mean woman with a complex story? Well we put them in fandom and they're always talking about brutally killing her. Uh huh, they're saying it's funny because she's mean and her fictional choices make people uncomfortable. No, not just in forums- they joke about violently beating her under everything. I'm sorry dude, you'll be seeing people explicitly describe her death under every post and piece of art.

[jacky93sims]

Overhead Cupboards Bed for The Sims 2

This is the bed I have at home :D I made it mixing together three objects: Kardofe small space bed, the cupboards from Clair Teen Room by Spacesim and a shelf from Honeywell. The shelf has 9 slots on it. All is 3000 poly.

DOWNLOAD HERE

[lgbtiwtv]

the thing about lestat and armand is that their relationship is literally incomprehensible. they are boy best friends they are codependent worsties they are archrivals they are platonic soulmates they are telepathic gossipers they are part time haters and full time ride or dies they are insane bisexuals but most importantly. they are toxic exes. despite the fact that they have never once dated. hope this helps

[feniksido]

Discussing the failures of our predecessors and how to avoid them aka They should have given Gortash a Gun

[malenjoyer]

Good morning 🙏🏼

I want to thank everyone their support with reblogging my stuff over the years and reblogging some of the context of the situation.

Tumblr and Instagram is filled with the most supportive people I’ve ever had the chance of meeting. The last time something like this happened, I didn’t have much support, not even from people I thought were close to me. It took me a year or two to be okay with being perceived again in fandoms. So I’m very grateful for everything.

I just wanted to post that I appreciate all of the asks and I’ve been reading all of them. I actually get anxious I’m spamming everyone too much so I probably won’t reply to everything. Please don’t feel pressured to support me financially, there’s is a free option on patreon to follow. I’ll post future project plans and occasional updates because I still love comics and I still love DC/Marvel. I do enjoy having people following along for my art/reading journey so I would always be okay with people just following for free. My brain is telling me this post is too long now so I will go 🙏🏼😭

[cheese-water]

One of the things I enjoy most about Tubbo and his interactions with Cucurucho is that HE KEEPS THE GODDAMN BOOKS.

Most of the other players will hand Cucurucho’s book back to them after reading the initial message, so he can just reuse the same book over and over. Tubbo however, keeps everything they give to him, forcing Cucurucho to keep making new books, effectively giving Tubbo (and the others) a record for what was said to him. I only noticed it when Tubbo gave the books to Cellbit and he was overwhelmed by the vast number of them.

And Tubbo knows what he’s doing. Some might say he’s just like rule breakers on the island but I disagree. Because unlike the others actually breaking server rules, (Cellbit making the iron farm, Pac and Mike getting into the nether, Baghera giving herself 30 hearts out of protest, etc.) Tubbo finds loopholes. He feigns his newness and naïveté to the server as a scapegoat for the very illegal acts he commits. And now that it’s starting to wear off, he’s begun to use Cucurucho’s against them.

“Oh I can’t have a 800 drill world eater? It has to be smaller? Well you didn’t specify how small?”

Even today, he does this again by clearly fishing for them to approve the use of multiple 5 x 5 drills and Cucurucho falls for it yet again. Cucurucho can’t even manipulate him into thinking he was already told how large the drills can be. On top of that, they can’t backtrack or muddle any of the information that was accidentally spilled without getting caught. Tubbo has what they told him on literal paper. So Tubbo continues to get away with it.

That’s why Cucurucho is prone to violence whenever Tubbo is involved. Such anger not seen since the early days of the Brazilians, before they were set straight.

Cucurucho despises Tubbo because he is one of, if not the only, islander who has power over them. Let’s see how long that lasts…

[howdydopillar]

the fan-arts in question;

[dizaryswrites]

Reading UTRH and in awe of how calculated and planned out all of Jason's little schemes are. Last minute shipment no one knows about? Red Hood does and he's blowing you up. Secret little meeting? Red Hood is crashing the party after leisurely eavesdropping. Oh wait he's cornered and fleeing? Nope, that's a microgun and wearable box of ammo he hid outside the door, you're still the sucker here.

Jason was putting in WORK

[royalarchivist]

I love the QSMP. Not only has it introduced me to many amazing international creators, it's also introduced me to the French and Brazilian community, who are so sweet, funny, and chaotic in their own unique ways. I love seeing fans sharing their culture and learning from one another, and I myself have learned a lot this past year. I think it's incredible how QSMP brings so many different people together – all of us united in our love and passion for this project and its goals.

But passion can often evoke strong emotions, and these strong emotions aren't always positive.

The past few months, I have seen multiple waves of hate, bad-faith generalizations of communities, and racist remarks directed at fellow fans – especially those who are part of the French / Brazilian community. This kind of behavior is inexcusable, and is in direct conflict with the mission of QSMP, which is to break language barriers and unite communities.

We are a global community with a variety of people from different backgrounds. Miscommunications may occasionally occur because of cultural differences and/or language barriers, but we should use these moments as opportunities to learn and engage with other people rather than assuming the worst about them and starting fights.

Although certain issues can be resolved with communication, sometimes it’s better to block and move on. Avoid spreading negativity or hate, and save yourself the headache of interacting with people who are just looking for someone to argue with.

No matter what community we're a part of or what languages we speak, we're all here to have fun. Please remember to be kind to each other. We have more in common than we have in conflict.

[flowercrowngods]

felt like letting mike and steve work through some shit again

cw: descriptions and imagery of them being lost and self-sacrificing, left alone with trauma they have no means to work through, could read as suicidal tendencies or intrusive thoughts

🤍 also on ao3

“What do you want?” Mike asks when Steve sits down beside him, gravel crunching, their feet dangling over the dark and endless abyss that is the quarry at night.

Steve doesn’t answer right away, doesn’t really know what to say now that he’s here, now that he found him. He looks so small, now more than ever, and it reminds Steve so painfully that he’s still just a child. He was always just a child, and children shouldn’t—

It feels like they got their rights at a childhood revoked years ago, and then they were just… supposed to be okay with it. It was expected, it was implied when nobody came to talk to them after.

When all they got was one NDA after another. When none of the professionally trained adults took one look at the children that they were, and asked, Are you okay? What do you need to be okay? I will talk to you once a week and make sure you learn how to be okay again.

Steve feels like a big brother to most of the kids now, sure, but he’s not their shrink, and he sucks when it comes to actually talking about shit. He can be there to drive them anywhere, can provide an evening of distractions and as much of a sanctuary as a house as haunted as his can be.

With everything else, though, he’s helplessly lost. So he says nothing, weighs his words to make sure they come out right — especially for Mike, who’s always just waiting for him to say something wrong and throw it back in his face with the sunny disposition of a feral, rabid cat.

“Hey,” Mike says then, irritated again; but his voice is hoarse, too. Tired. No heat behind it after that stupid fight with Dustin and Lucas earlier tonight that made him snap and leave Steve’s house in a frenzy. “I said, What do you want?”

Steve shrugs, looking ahead into the darkness that feels endless and alluring and deeply terrifying.

I miss my friend! My best friend, Mike!

“Making sure you’re okay.”

You’ve changed, you know that? You’re not the guy who would jump off a cliff for me anymore, I don’t think I even know you anymore!

Dustin’s voice echoes in Steve’s mind as it undoubtedly does in Mike’s, too, and he can only imagine how much that hurts, especially if he’s shivering like that even though the night is warm for early September.

“I’m okay,” Mike says, sounding endlessly annoyed about the fact. Steve almost huffs out a humourless laugh. Yeah, right.

“Sure you are,” Steve says, keeping his tone carefully neutral.

He shrugs off his jacket and drapes it over Mike’s shoulders without a comment, half-expecting him to just throw it into the darkness below. But Mike doesn’t move, is eerily still beside him, pretending not to notice that Steve’s watching him.

“But you know it’s, like,” he starts again and trails off, looking for the right words because this is unfamiliar terrain and the ground beneath his feet is quite literally nonexistent. “It’s fine if you’re not, right? It’s actually really fucking normal to be more than a little fucked up after everything, all that crazy shit. Or just… in general.”

You were twelve, he wants to say. You were twelve and you jumped off from here. You were twelve and you were going to die. And not because of those monsters, not yet. Just because… you were twelve.

Mike doesn’t say anything, but the gravel crunches once more as he reaches for a handful of stones to throw them into the darkness one by one, the void beneath them so enormous that they don’t even hear the noise of impact.

You jumped.

The longer Mike remains silent, the more Steve wants to scream, wants to grab him by the shoulders and shake him, wants to make him see and understand that Steve knows about the scars a decision like that leaves, especially when you live to deal with the consequences.

He gets seizures to deal with the consequences. His ear is fucky, his eye is twitchy, his head is aching constantly, he gets migraines that knock him out for a day or two, all because he wanted to protect his friends. All because he did protect his friends. It worked. They’re safe.

But they’re also unaware of… of everything. Of the horrible stillness as clarity dawns and all signs point to the one way that always seems to work. The one easy way out, and still the hardest of them all when the plan goes wrong and he makes it out alive. When It’s gotta be me is the only thing to say, but later turns into an angry It never should have been me because the world looks different when it’s smeared with your blood.

And it’s always the lost boys who make decisions like that. Steve wonders, some nights in cold sweat, what happens if he makes these decisions without immediate danger. What happens if he just… decides to jump. Decides to run. To give the world more of his blood. Without saving anyone.

It’s not like he wants to — but he’s terrified that it’s just who he is. Who he’s turned into, terrified that his friends will forever expect him to.

And he’s even more terrified knowing that Mike jumped before he learned about monsters. Before he learned about fighting and surviving.

You were a kid, he wants to say again, but his throat is closing up on him.

“I don’t think that’s okay actually,” Mike says after a while, tearing Steve away from his fears. They’re still both looking ahead rather than at each other, but it’s fine. They’re still here. “Like, people say it is, but it feels so empty when they do, you know? Like, sure, yeah, I’m not fucking okay, but what the hell do we do about that now? Oh, right, I know! Let’s throw it in my face that I’m not good enough for you anymore now that there’s no monsters to kill anymore. Now that I’m just Mike, who’s not even enough to be that anymore, sure. Right. Yeah. Let’s pretend it’s all fine, Steve, let’s pretend it’s okay to hurt all the fucking time!”

Mike is shaking now, violent tremors running through his body, and Steve’s first instinct is to reach out and pull him close, to keep him from that edge and take him to his car; turn on the heating and talk there. But Mike seems to need the darkness, seems to need to be faced with endless depth to give voice to his thoughts.

“What Dustin said was messed up. He shouldn’t have said that.”

Mike shrugs, throwing more pebbles into the darkness, though his motions have lost their vigour. “He’s right, though.”

Steve sighs, though not unkindly. “No, he’s not. Hey, listen to me.” He waits until Mike turns to meet his eyes, and he leans forward. “It’s not okay. It’s not right what he said. You don’t deserve to have that shit thrown in your face just because Dustin is a tactless little douche bag.”

Taking a bullet for someone is not the baseline for friendship, he wants to say, and it occurs to him once again how fucked up their perception and idea of friendship must be, now that they’ve all bonded over the most horrific shit and actual grief they never learned how to work through.

It’s not even Dustin’s fault, not really. They’re all just collateral damage to something Bigger, and all they have is each other, leaving them in a vicious cycle that is so, so fucked up.

“Why’d you jump?” he asks eventually, quiet in case the darkness tries to listen in. “Back then, why did you jump?” And do you wish El had let you? Do you sometimes wish that? When your room is quiet and it’s only you living with all those silent, terrible decisions?

Mike shrugs again, but there’s not much fight left in him, Steve can see that, can feel it in the air between them.

“Will was gone,” he says like it explains everything— and it sort of does. Steve has seen the way these boys look at each other when the other’s not looking, he has seen the hurt and the anger and the gentleness stored there, the words unspoken and the fear that, despite interdimensional monsters, kinda goes unmatched.

Because they have each other. They only have each other. And if someone’s suddenly different than what they thought they knew, if someone’s suddenly different, then… Everything might just fall apart.

And Steve wants to grab him again; wants to pull him close and say, I’m the same. We have the same scars. We have the same!

Slowly, carefully, he does lean over now, weaving an arm around Mike’s shoulders and pulling him into his side.

“I get that.”

Mike swallows heavily and exhales shakily. “I don’t think you do.”

“No. I think I really, really do. But it’s okay, Mike. You won’t be alone with this, okay. I’m on your side, you little shit.”

A pause, a beat, a moment’s respite. Then, “Why?”

“Because,” his heart is racing, his mouth trembling around forming the words for the first time, but he knows it’s the right thing to do. Knows it’s important.

Knows it might just save a life.

“Because I fell harder for Eddie Munson than I ever thought possible, and once i found out what was happening, I kind of wanted to jump off a cliff, too. But I didn’t, because I had someone with the same fears as me, and instead of stupid shit we just… Cried together sometimes. Screamed into our pillows. Laughed with and at each other, calling ourselves hopeless, and— I don’t know. It’s really fucking scary, and that doesn’t go away just because you have someone to talk to. But it‘s… better. It’s so much better.”

He huffs, swallowing around the lump in his throat, smiling into the darkness.

“So I’ve got you, okay? Whatever it is, whatever makes you feel like it’s not fucking okay, I’ve got you. You come to me, yeah? Lucas does, Dustin does, even Max does. This is your official, standing invitation and whatever, okay, dickhead?”

Mike shoves at him lightly, still not parting from the rather awkward side-hug they’ve got going on, and Steve is glad for it.

“Okay, okay, geez,” the little shithead says, rolling his eyes which Steve can see even in the dark, and it feels like the edge has moved away from them, like they have solid ground beneath their feet again.

Steve doesn’t say anything more after that, just waiting for Mike to stir to lead him back to the car, load in his bike and take him wherever he feels like spending the night.

But Mike doesn’t move for another long while, and it makes Steve feel like something big has just happened between them. Like they finally have found the common ground that Steve’s been suspecting they had for months now, even years.

Eventually, as they make their way to the car and Mike goes to grab his bike, he speaks up again, but more subdued now.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Hmm?”

“Does… Does Eddie know?”

“About what?” My tendencies to take a leap off the edge?

“You. Being…”

“Oh!” A smile as he unlocks his car and opens the back door to squeeze Mike’s old bike in there with minimal smears of dirt. “I’d hope so, we’ve been dating for months.”

“You’re dating?! You? Eddie’s dating you?”

“Yeah, listen, do you want me to just leave you here or would you rather be thrown out in the middle of nowhere?”

Mike grumbles something unintelligible as he climbs into the front seat, waiting for Steve to start the engine before he speaks up again.

“It’s just, you’re so… How did you even do that?”

Steve laughs at that, disbelieving and all, because, “Trust me, I have no idea. Must have been the ol’ Harrington charm and all that.”

Mike rolls his eyes and crosses his arms in front of his chest, sinking lower in the seats to pout. “You’re so lame.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t hear you over how much I have a boyfriend and you don’t.”

If his heart skips a beat because it still feels like a forbidden truth saying the word out loud despite the playful banter, then he’s ignoring that in favour of revving the engine.

“Asshole.”

“Dickhead.”

“Grow up,” Mike says, but Steve can see the smile he’s not even trying to hide, and he mirrors it with his own as he turns on the radio catching the final tunes of Springsteen’s Dancing in the Dark.

They’re not okay, none of them. But the car is warm, the cliff’s edge is behind them, and they’re not listening to the same ten songs anymore.

They’re getting better, step by tiny step.

[varilien]

For the triggun holloween requests, vash and wood couple costumes

ive gotten the suggestion for vashwood morticia and gomez a few times which is great cuz ive been thinking forever about it purely for the "speaks french x speaks spanish" of it all fhdjdjd

[murderandcoffee]

jfksdaljfklsd noel going "he's not talkin to us" when the butcher is confused by arthur responding to john is so funny

[wheretheresawyll]

one thing about nathaniel howe is that 90% of his commentary is weird and pointless and i love him for it.