#let me know if you want more of those

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Call that a Cave Story.

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[jewreallythinkthat]

The most moderate, nuanced and productive people I have discussed the Israel-Hamas war with have been Jews, Israelis, and people with Palestinian family. Everyone directly affected by this just wants it to stop and to have peace and safety in the region in a way that minimises the casualty count.

The most extreme and performative and vile things I've been told are by people who have no connection to this and like to think they are experts because they have covered adjacent topics during learning, or read stuff online.

If all the randos in the west would just shut up for ten minutes and let those of us actually affected, with an understanding of the history of the land and the culture and the generational trauma experienced by Jews and Palestinians alike talk, we might actually have a chance to salvage this and stop it spiraling

[mumblesplash]

pov you’re the wither and you have about 30 seconds to live

(the marks under his eye just say ‘RIP’ in sga/enchantment table language if anyone was curious)

[lunarharp]

if i just told you i love you would this world change

[joltrify]

id sell my left soul and my lung for more disabled Ben 10 aliens please omg

<3

hope i did okay this time around; still getting back into the swing of things

[3-aem]

im bored of animal crossing will be drawing gj again will be mental illness-ing once more.

[viperwhispered]

Too Hard

Woop part 2 of the trip inside Jamil's head. Part 1 here.

The next time Jamil caught sight of you on campus, his first instinct was to turn around on his heel.

What a stupid thought to have because of you.

Besides, that would only make him more conspicuous, not less.

So, when your eyes met his, Jamil gave you a short nod in greeting. He would’ve left it at that and kept on his way, had you not walked up to him.

“Hi Jamil! How’s it going?” you said with that impossibly disarming smile of yours.

Why was it so difficult to look at you like he normally would? You had no right to make him feel so stiff, so unnatural.

On autopilot, Jamil exchanged a few pleasantries with you - those lessons from his parents had been instilled too deep in him for him to falter too badly in a simple exchange such as this. Still, Jamil quickly excused himself by telling you he still had to find Kalim before his next class.

Jamil didn’t miss the way your smile faltered. Had you hoped to get something out of him?

“Oh, okay. I’ll see you two later, then.”

Something about that irked him, though Jamil did not allow himself to dwell on it further.

His heart really had no business still racing as it did when he walked away, unaware of the frown on his face.

Just act normal. That’s all he needed to do.

After all, he had no time for dwelling in silly fancies.

If Jamil had been acutely aware of you before, it only seemed to worsen now that he was making a conscious effort to not act any differently with you. In fact, the harder he tried to keep you out, the more you invaded his thoughts, unsettling him.

The most innocuous words from you looped in his mind, and even the simplest actions caught his eye. For goodness's sake, he’d found himself staring at you while you were queueing up in the cafeteria the other day, not even doing anything other than standing around and looking bored!

For once, Jamil found himself grateful for all his duties. At least they provided him with something else to occupy himself with.

After all, if he was busy enough, it was difficult to think about those bright eyes of yours, your sweet laugh, or the way you bit your lip while thinking.

Still, sometimes it felt like no matter which way he turned, you were there, ready to throw him off-kilter. Not like it was his fault that often the most convenient route to class intersected with your daily routines. Or that your face seemed to jump out from any crowd, catching his attention.

Which certainly did not help his basketball performance. Jamil certainly did not recall you having such an interest in sports before, yet suddenly you were always there, distracting him. What had changed?

Could you possibly-

Jamil scoffed to himself, forcing his thoughts back on track for the nth time that day.

He picked up the tray of food and started taking it to Kalim. After dinner, he’d need to help Kalim with his homework, there were some housewarden tasks that would need dealing with, not to mention the preparations for the next-

Jamil froze in his tracks.

The voice he heard was quiet, but it was unmistakably you.

Really, it should not have come as such a surprise to him. You had become a rather frequent visitor to Scarabia, and Kalim often invited you to stay for meals. In fact, Jamil had started planning the dorm’s meal prep with your tastes and dietary restrictions in mind, just in case.

Jamil rounded the corner with strange exhilaration, his heart fluttering needlessly.

Yet, his mood evaporated when he saw you.

Why did you stop talking and look so guilty as soon as you caught sight of Jamil?

Jamil knew that look you gave to Kalim, had used it himself a thousand times. The one telling Kalim to keep quiet about something.

What could there possibly be that you would be comfortable sharing with Kalim, but not with him? That would give Kalim reason to sit so close to you, a comforting hand on your shoulder?

Jamil's mind raced with possibilities, yet could not settle for any single explanation.

He’d have to ask Kalim about it later.

Jamil gave you a short, polite greeting, his eyes lingering on you in an attempt to read what you were hiding.

“If I’d known you were coming over, I would’ve prepared something for you to eat as well,” Jamil said, already thinking about which parts of the dorm’s dinner to spruce up for you.

“Oh, no need, just figured I’d pop by. I’ll get out of your hair soon enough,” you said, something sheepish about your expression.

As expected, Kalim asked you to stay and dine with them, and with just a bit more persuasion you agreed - though not before telling Jamil that he should join you too and have himself a breather.

And since Kalim agreed with you, Jamil soon found himself sharing a meal with you and Kalim. Yet, even as he sat down with the food, his mind raced.

Had you been getting particularly close to Kalim lately? But surely Jamil would’ve noticed such a thing. Maybe someone from the dorm had been giving you trouble? But if that was the case, then surely you could let Jamil know about it, too. Unless for some reason you did not want to? But if it was something that concerned Kalim, then sooner or later it was bound to concern Jamil, too.

All the while, Kalim was talking to you about this and that, the latest topic being the animals kept on the Asim estate.

“I’ve got some pictures, let me show you!” Kalim said with an excited grin.

Only, a thorough patting of his pockets and a look around confirmed that Kalim’s phone was nowhere to be seen.

Jamil pinched the bridge of his nose. Where had Kalim left it this time?

Before Jamil even had the chance to say that he would handle it, Kalim sprinted off. Jamil hesitated for a moment, automatically halfway up from his seat, before he decided that leaving a guest unattended would be a worse offense than not helping out his master.

Jamil slumped back down with a sigh, mentally tracing the path Kalim took today, trying to recall the last time he saw Kalim handle his phone.

“Breathe. He’ll manage,” you said. There was the faintest of smiles on your lips, and Jamil could not decide if it was knowing or amused. Perhaps both.

Somehow, despite his frustration, Jamil’s own lips wanted to curl up too.

“Hmm. Maybe he will.”

Sure, Jamil could’ve called Kalim’s phone, to make it easier to find, but it was not that urgent, was it?

Jamil took another bite of his food, keeping an eye on you from the corner of his eye.

How was his mind so empty and so buzzing at the same time?

“You know-”

“So-”

You looked at each other, both just as surprised that the other had spoken up at the same time.

Even your surprised look was so-

“You first,” Jamil said. The way you bit your lip... Jamil had to raise a cup to his lips, slowly sipping his drink.

“Just… Feels like it’s been quite a while since I’ve seen you be still, you know. Or exchanged more than two words with you,” you said. You were attempting a light, joking tone, yet it was quite clear there was more to it.

“You say that like it would be unusual for me to be busy.”

He was not prepared for the way your soft sigh tugged at his heartstrings.

“No. It is not.”

You were both quiet after, poking at your meals. Normally, Jamil would’ve cherished such a moment of peace, yet this particular silence between you two was decidedly awkward.

Where was your usual chatter? Why weren’t you looking at him like you usually did?

“If you’re worried about me, don’t. I’m fine,” Jamil said, some softness creeping into his tone despite his best intentions.

“That's what Kalim said too,” you said. Yet the way you looked at Jamil made it clear you were still skeptical.

Wait.

Had you clammed up earlier because it had been Jamil you had been talking about with Kalim? That Kalim had comforted you about?

The thought twisted his stomach into knots.

Hasdhfsdf the way I fought with that last scene I swear. I don't even want to know how many versions I went through, trying to figure out how to say what I wanted without rubbing it into your face or making it too veiled. The joys of trying to convey things through a limited pov. Hopefully it came out reasonably balanced in the end. Rip to all those sentences that were lovely on their own but didn’t work for the whole. Hopefully I can rehome y’all one day. I do have thoughts for part 3 and part x (might be some chapters between those two as well, who knows at this point), so maybe we'll see those at some point, too. Tag list: @colliope @crystallizsch @diodellet @jamilsimpno69 @jamilvapologist @twstgo If you'd like to be tagged for future works, let me know! (Just be aware that sometimes I do also write nsfw, though you can certainly ask to be tagged only for particular kinds of works.)

[skeletoninthemelonland]

[puppyeared]

i feel like. theres designing a character with certain themes and motifs in mind, and then theres making a gijinka for the water bottle on my nightstand

[nonuel]

mass effect fandom typically has no problem disregarding or rewriting portions of canon, but one thing i have almost never seen touched is the friendship between garrus and shepard. so here is a poll because i am genuinely curious. i tried to be as expansive as poll limitations allowed, but since we are already throwing out canon i recognize there are a lot of variances that haven't been included. because of that, i would particularly like it if people elaborated about their non-romantic relationship with garrus in the tags, comments, or reblogs - especially if you are someone who has voted for any of the non-friend options. thanks for your time!

this post is not meant to be garrus critical. garrus enjoyers are welcome to participate in the poll, i only ask that you are respectful toward other people who may not have him as their favorite, or who may just simply roleplay a shepard that does not have him as their (best) friend for whatever reason.

[uncanny-tranny]

I've been thinking about modesty from a specifically trans lense lately. I was taught that modesty indicates shame, that modesty means you're simultaneously ashamed of being human and having a human body, but also that you are "purer" because you adhere to a hegemonic idea of modesty. Frankly, I just don't agree with this, and it was very much steeped in the idea of specifically christian ideas of modesty.

Before I transitioned, I felt very unprotective of my body because it never felt like mine to begin with. I didn't really care what happened to it, and while I was modest by other people's standards, I certainly didn't feel it. Once I actually started transitioning (and especially on testosterone), I've found that I'm so much more "modest" because I've become protective of my body. There's this stereotype that trans people start "showing themselves off" after transitioning, but I honestly feel the opposite. I'm possessive over my body and exactly how it acts and appears because I actually like my body, and it finally feels like mine. I'm honestly kind of selfish about it, and I think I've earned the right to be.

I made this post because I think this is an interesting topic, and I think it's interesting the ways in which we internalize the influences that be. It's also a reminder that no matter how you feel about things like modesty, you should adhere to what makes the most sense to you and what you are most comfortable with. There are pressures to be modest in this way or that way, but what truly matters is what you decide with your body and yourself.

[front-facing-pokemon]

[sluttylittlewaste]

Hilarious that the same people defending any and all questionable choices the Bad Kids make (namely Kristen lbr) by saying "They're just kids! They have all this trauma and it's fucked up to expect teens to be good and nice all the time!" are the same people insisting that Kipperlily is an evil bitch and the Ratgrinders deserve to die.

[lunarharp]

scribbles... pre-relationship onsen trip

[wrathofrats]

Also a fun reminder!

If you want to see more of something specific, nothing helps your case better than reblogging and sharing some nice comments ;)

When you support work you like, you’ll get more of it!

[jankwritten]

Jasico Bingo Challenge: Jason Remembers Nico

Sunlight streaks in through the half-open arena roof, bathing their section in warm, mid-afternoon gold. Jason, who has decided to spend their short mid-class break sprawled out in the dirt, basks in the warmth of it. 

He’s hot from training, sure, and maybe everyone else is smarter for seeking shelter in the shade of the spectator stands, but something about the afternoon sun is like wrapping up in a blanket. A cozy, tingly kind of warmth. 

Maybe, in another life, Jason was a child of Apollo. Wouldn’t that be something? Jason Grace: still a child of the sky, but without all the pressure. It sounds pretty nice, he won’t lie. 

As the class murmurs in the background, Jason lets himself relax. Really, truly relax, starting with his shoulders, down his arms, his wrists, his knuckles. He loosens his back on a deep exhale, and down his legs, until he feels as boneless and one-with-the-earth as he possibly can. 

A cool shade passes over him. It settles across his face, as if something has come by and blocked out the sun. 

He peeks. 

“You’ll get a sunburn,” Nico says, hunched over with his elbows on his knees, face in his hands. 

“And you won’t?” Jason closes his eyes again. Honestly, having Nico’s chilly aura nearby is kind of awesome when the sun’s this perfect. Yin and yang, right? Balance. 

Plus, y’know, doesn’t hurt a guy’s pride to have the well documented people-avoider seeking him out. Even if it’s to save him from himself. Score one: Jason. 

“My hair will spare my neck, I’m sure.” 

Jason smiles. “I like your hair long, you know. I wish I could grow my hair out like that.” 

Nico makes a scoffing sound, like he can’t decide if he wants to be amused or offended. Jason peeks again. 

“Perfect Praetor Grace wants to look like an unwashed rat?” 

“That’s not what I said. I said I wanted to grow my hair long, like yours.” 

He watches Nico rolls his eyes and shake his head, but he doesn’t push the point. 

Score two: Jason. 

A breeze rolls in off the strawberry hills, bringing the scent of grass and summer in to mix with the kicked up dirt and metal of the arena. Jason lulls into it. 

Gods, this is peaceful. It probably shouldn’t be, in the middle of teaching a class on self-defense. Jason’s always been a creature of habit, though, and battle was always an ironically safe space for him. Let out his aggression in a semi-healthy way, or something. 

Back at Camp Jupiter, they would have him fight in the coliseum every so often, a demonstration of his power, his capability to lead. They called him ruthless. He only ever lost one fight, which earned the victor a massive wave of support when it came time to elect praetors. 

It’s a strange memory, but one he smiles at nonetheless. Reyna was nothing short of vicious when they went toe-to-toe; she was the only person who ever fought the way Jason felt like he needed to, like it was sink or swim. Victory or death. 

There was one match, after Reyna, after people realized that Jason could be beaten, where he accidentally let too much of that side show. When he threw down his sword and took his opponent to the ground to fight like the wolves did, in the grass with teeth and claws and the rest of the pack swarming around them, snarling their approval. 

One face stood out in that crowd, afterward, of people stepping around him, giving him a wide berth while he scrubbed the blood off his mouth. It was a boy, wearing a too-loose purple shirt and a look on his face like he knew exactly what he’d seen. A boy with hair that turned brown in the light and eyes like nothing Jason had ever seen - not quite haunted, but certainly too old for the face they sat within. When the light hit them, it almost seemed to disappear. 

Jason never spoke to the boy. 

He opens his eyes again. Nico blinks down at him, his head tilted, eyebrows creased and mouth frowning. 

Jason grins back. Nico’s eyebrow twitches. 

“What.” 

“Nothing,” Jason says. A lifetime ago, Jason singled out one boy in a crowd, and despite having forgotten, lost everything, built himself anew—here that boy sits. Shielding him from the sun. Still, somehow, knowing Jason better than he’s ever known himself. “I’m just glad we’re friends.” 

“Ugh, gods,” Nico’s face goes pink, and his hands move, covering over his mouth and nose. “You’re worse than Will.” 

“I’m doing my job well, then.” 

Nico shakes his head, his hair drifting over his shoulders in the process, hanging in the air between them. Jason wants to reach up and touch it, fiddle with the strands like Leo does with Piper’s hair when they’re hanging out in the bunker. 

“I should let you burn,” Nico says. He doesn’t move. 

The victor in the colosseum would have shored up his walls at that. Closed himself off from the boy with underworld eyes. Heard nothing but the implication that Jason needs someone else to keep him safe, to keep him from getting himself hurt. 

Maybe that’s why Nico never spoke to him, back at Camp Jupiter. Maybe that’s why Jason never got up the nerve to approach him. Too scared to let himself trust. 

“I put my life in your hands,” Jason teases, crossing his arms behind his head. 

The sun is warm on his skin. The chuff of Nico’s disbelieving, snorting laugh is warmer.