#is that a tag?? idk

[citrlet]

the townies of san myshuno

[6lovelytenders]

Headcanon: The tugs (and some other vessels) can shift their weight to lean from side to side in the water, and they use this to gesture and emote.

I want to clarify that they wouldn't move like the engine's in BWBA, I hate those exaggerated motions as much as the next fan. But this would be a more natural feeling motion for a boat. More like a gentle lean sideways and a natural shift upright again.

Certain tugs like O.J. and Billy Shoepack possibly can't lean port to starboard very well due to their paddles, but, they can lean forwards and backwards just as well as any other Tug. Ocean Liners and Tramp Steamers also can't do this very well due to their size and weight, if they lean too far there's the possibility of capsizing.

[ingcap]

They literally did not hesitate on roasting Solar 😭😭

Ive yet to expect someone drawing Monty shoving a banana down his throat /j

[loversj0y]

hi i saw ur post can u write smth abt wilbur going on tour w lvjy and reader coming along doing som shennanigans w him it could b anything ! like a drabble, hc or jst a short fic :D love ur stargazing fic sm btw

when i go feral bc this idea was so cute then what? 

i wrote this one as headcanons since these are more glimpses into cute n random things that happen

Going on Tour with Lovejoy 

pairing: wilbur soot x reader (no pronouns)

no tws i believe!

first of all. the post show (and post shower ffs) cuddles would be immaculate

driving to the next destination with wilbur’s head in your lap and him mumbling sweet nothings

making tiktoks with leandra that (playfully) bully wilbur

holding extra water and extra guitar picks backstage for everyone just in cass

giving fans extra guitar picks too

doing soundcheck and wilbur saying that he’ll serenade you then absolutely nearly wrecking his voice to scream sing as horribly as possible

(the sound check people working at the venue are Not Happy about the screaming btw)

he would draw doodles on your hands while you guys were bored (esp if you were sleeping on his lap) (there would be several dicks)

goofing off and running around in hotel hallways (and probably getting in trouble like mark did)

tour bus karaoke.

trying to sabotage each other’s tamagotchis. he would keep yours in his pocket while on stage. you would hide his in the bottom of your suitcase

he would also keep something of yours on him while on stage. usually a piece of your jewelry, like a ring on a chain, or a hair tie on his wrist. he insists its for good luck

when everyone else was asleep on the bus, but neither of you could sleep, you and him would make a pillow pile on the floor and sit n talk until you finally fell asleep

and once you did fall asleep, he would lift you and carry you so gently to bed, placing the softest kiss on your forehead

[wholesomecryptidart]

A man who really loves his frog

[carnation-notebooks]

As far as im aware, Tommy has not officially decided what his chat is.

But its probably there. Sometimes. He didn't pay attention to chat today, but this stream is so much sadder if you think about chat being there.

Because on the bench, everyone was singing My L'manburg.

They have no music, watching the sun set in silence.

And it hurts even more if chat is something like the wind. Or maybe the spirits of L'manburg citizens who died for the country that barely saw the light of day. Or just an echo of the past. Everyone sitting around, singing happily, during one of the few times people felt safe.

Whatever it is, it's singing. Singing the anthem of the country that these boys now represent. They dont talk about it, but the words their brother sang once is softly playing in the background. They have no music.

It's singing a goodbye to a boy who deserves the world, and who is about to give that away to everyone else. A goodbye, hoping maybe he'll realize just how important he is. That he doesn't deserve this ending, if only it could be better.

It's singing comfort to a boy who has lost, and lost, and will lose once more. A boy who will tell the others story, who wanted to go to the moon together. Who would have given the world for them both to live. A boy who will be protected to the end.

It's singing a goodbye to L'manburg, to Tommy, to their friendship. It's sad, but it still sings. Because their on the bench, for the last time, and they have no music. So it will make some for them. It's the least that can be done.

[mooodyblue]

Do you think you could write that idea about E slipping during a press conference and Jerry having to swoop in and bounce him/feed him on his lap? I’d love to see that!

hope you enjoy ❤️

wc: 737

masterlist

elvis tried to keep some parts of his life private, everyone already knew so much about him. his regression was one of the things he tried desperately hard to keep tucked away within his friends and family, but there was always that small fear that he'd slip in front of everyone. unfortunately, his fear came true.

it was his fault. he knew he wasn't feeling all there before he left, but it was just a press conference then he'd get a small break before performing later that afternoon. he thought he'd be okay, but his head had other plans for him. maybe it was the anxiety of having to speak in front of other people or just him being exhausted, maybe it's both, but he held back as much as he could. he took a deep breath and exhaled, preparing himself for this disaster of a conference.

he looked to his side, gesturing for jerry to come over to him. "jer'," he sighed, putting a hand on his shoulder, "i need you to stay close, can you do that?"

jerry nodded, rubbing at elvis's back. "i've got everything you need with me. it's alright."

poor elvis looked defeated, dreading the headlines that would most likely come out later that week. if only he could cancel, but god forbid the colonel let him make his own decisions. "'bouta make a fool of myself, aren't i?"

"course not, promise. colonel might get mad but that's nothin' new." he joked, trying to ease his anxiety. jerry fixed the collar of elvis's suit, brushing his hands on it. before elvis could respond, he was called out to the room. "you'll be fine, i got you when you're ready. i'll be right here." elvis nodded and wandered out to the room full of cameras and press, greeting everyone with a wide smile.

halfway through the conference, he quickly glanced over at jerry who gave him a thumbs up, mouthing 'you're doin' good' at him. elvis just wanted to go home. he was tired of talking, tired of answering questions and dealing with all the cameras. but it was his job in some way.

he wondered what he was going to do when he got home. he really just wanted to curl up with a stuffie and maybe just take a nap. a quick look at his friend once again gave him an idea to draw jerry a little picture with the crayons stashed in his drawer. his thoughts were quickly interrupted by another question, something about wanting to go overseas. it only made him even more sad. he shrugged, stammering through his answers and whatnot. he began fidgeting with the rings on his fingers as he felt himself getting more and more uncomfortable under the many cameras and their persistent glare.

that feeling in his head took over, now unable to really answer questions like he could a few minutes ago. jerry could see it in his eyes and rushed out with a plushie in his hand and bottle in the other, whispering to the colonel that he'd slipped and to wrap it up soon. he took a seat next to elvis brought him on his knee, bouncing him slightly. "you want a bottle? yeah?" he coo'd, letting him make grabby hands at it as it was slipped in between his lips. "good boy, doin' good." he muttered.

jerry eventually got asked about elvis, him being a little and if jerry was his caregiver. he answered to the best of his ability, not wanting to give too much away about his personal life. he continued bouncing his leg as elvis drank happily from his bottle, avoiding eye contact with the crowd while doing so.

elvis let the bottle slip from his lips and grabbed ahold of the mic, playfully babbling into it. "is that right? what else happened?" jerry chuckled, holding the mic for him. he continued his endless babbles, thinking he was saying something meaningful but only coming out as incoherent noises and words. "that's amazing, elvis. usin' your big words." jerry smiled.

the colonel wasn't having it, even though the press was enjoying it. as elvis held up his plushie to everyone, showing his friend off, he came in and announced that the conference was over. elvis frowned and clinged to jerry, burying his face in his neck. "go home now?" he asked.

jerry nodded, "yea, let's get you home."

[sylvies-kablooie]

i do unironically think the best artists of our generation are posting to get 20 notes and 3 reblogs btw. that fanfic with like 45 kudos is some of the best stuff ever written. those OCs you carry around have some of the richest backstories and worldbuilding someone has ever seen. please do not think that reaching only a few people when you post means your art isn't worth celebrating.

[so-many-ocs]

[on the verge of having a complete breakdown] i need to make some kind of list or perhaps sort things into categories

[l-a-l-o-u]

sending your friends terrible tumblr posts is a love language

[noelledeltarune]

EVERY SINGLE DAY there are MILLIONS of characters in their late 20s who get falsely accused of being father figures to teenagers when in reality the description of "weird older cousin" or "step-sibling that moved out before you were born" is 1000000x more apt

[noddynods]

Story of my life

[reikacchan]

don't give up

[just-french-me-up]

Are you alright, honey? You've barely put your blorbo in situations

[adjit]

I think we need to get more comfortable with the idea that sometimes shitty, racist, homophobic, bigoted people are still incredibly talented.

I feel like every time I see a post addressing someone’s shitty behavior the post also takes the time to mention that they’re not even good at [x] anyway. And that’s just not always true? Equating being good at a skill as being morally good is just not necessary. Someone can be a fantastic writer, can have a beautiful singing voice, can create breathtaking artwork, and still be a horrible person.

I know part of this is probably just the instinct to dislike everything about a person when you dislike them, but I also think this mindset leads to people defending creatives way past where they should, because if bad people create bad art, then if this person creates art that I like and resonates with me, then they can’t be a bad person!

And you know. That’s just not true. Those two things are simply completely unconnected and I think it’d be healthier if we all started disconnecting them in our heads.