#or however you do it!

[not-poignant]

Fae Tales - Underline the Gold 01/? (Anton/Flitmouse)

Title: Underline the Gold - 01 - In the Beginning

Pairing: Anton Valenosk (the Brave)/Alois Flitmouse

Notes: This is an extra 2,200 word story in the Underline the Black universe!

Summary: Alpha Anton is assigned a new omega, Alois Flitmouse, who is Hillview Rehabilitation Facility's very first voluntary admission and an older, independent omega who is escaping unfortunate circumstances and seeking protection, and is too jaded and tired to consider bonding with anyone.

Its rating is Mature with some disturbing themes (mention of suicidal ideation and historic domestic violence).

Underline the Gold - 01 - In the Beginning (Anton/Flitmouse) on AO3!

In which Flitmouse decides to check if Hillview might be a safe place to hide from a violent husband, and coaxes Anton into lying to Gary and the facility on his behalf.

-Thanks to all the Patreon supporters for making this story possible!

[roebeanstalk]

reblog to manifest gender euphoria for the person you reblogged this from

[cloudyydraws]

UY! PHILIPPINES!!!! PHILIPPINES!!!!

[admiralexclipse]

[aces-and-angels]

verified by: 90-ghost follow the ayyad's asmaa: @asmaayyad israa: @esraayyad14* sama: @samaayyad15 *= israa's alt. account @esraayyad18 has been suppressed

dear moots/lovely lurkers,

allow me to introduce you once again to the ayyad's. they are a wonderful family of 8. all of them led beautiful, rich lives-- here are some of their stories:

"I am Asmaa from Gaza-- a lawyer and a graduate of Palestine University... I am 25 years old... I have also been living far away from my fiancé for two years, I cannot reach him because of the increase in the coordination price and the closure of the crossings and borders." "My name is Israa from Gaza. I have always dreamed of becoming a doctor after I finish high school, but what happened in this war, the destruction of schools and universities, the suspension of education because of the war, and the death of many students, made me a girl who lost her passion and only wanted to end the war on the Gaza Strip." "Hello, I am Sama from Gaza... I am 15 years old... I was studying middle school and my educational career stopped completely here in Gaza, our life stopped completely." (the following excerpts were pieced together from posts/messages from asmaa and her younger sisters- israa and sama)

their family has been displaced numerous times. lost friends and loved ones. they don't live through the days- they survive them. no one should suffer through this immense pain on their own. there is power in numbers. please do your part by sharing/donating if you have the means

[magnusbae]

To illustrate this post by @mayahawkse I would like to visualize to you the difference:

A post in 2023:

A post in 2014:

A zoom out of the same post:

This is what a community looks like.

See how in 2023 almost all of the reblogs come from the OP, from their few hours/days in the tag search. Meanwhile in 2014 the % of reblogs from OP is insignificant, because most of the reblogs come from the reblogs within the fandom, within the micro-communities formed there. You didn't need to rely on tags, or search, or being featured. Because the community took care of you, made sure to pass the work between themselves and onto their blog and exposed their followers to it. It kept works alive for years.

It's not JUST the reblog/like ratio that causing this issue, it's the type of interaction people have. They're content with scrolling and liking the search engine, instead of actually having a reblogging relationship with other blogs in their community.

Anyways, if you want to see more content you like, the only true way to make it happen is to reblog it. Likes do not forward content in no way but making OP feel nice. Reblogs on the other hand make content eternal. They make it relevant, they make it exist outside of a fickle tumblr search that hardly works on the best of days.

If you want more of something, reblog it.

[artsekey]

Thinking about the time I lost a game of Overwatch and I was so mad about it that I genuinely considered getting into shit with the other team in chat and then realized that it was a colossal waste of my living breathing Human Time and uninstalled Overwatch instead because it was only making me angry.

And then thought about the OTHER time when I was on TikTok and realized I was Not Enjoying Myself and was, in fact, seeing so many sad videos and fake influencer ads that I felt Truly Despondent and then just…Deleted it.

Imo I want my social media /general media experience to be a pleasant break from real world and I get to decide what I get to cull to make that a reality for myself. I highly reccomended it! Life has improved considerably!

[oblivioustothevampirediaries]

my contribution for the netflix avatar remake

[jabesa0]

🤍🤍🤍🤍

[wren-kitchens]

im annoyed and a little pedantic so can i just say as a blanket statement

queerbaiting is when the promotion for a FICTIONAL STORY intentionally hints towards two characters having a romantic relationship, without any intention to follow through in the show, in order to get queer people watching without discouraging the homophobic enjoyers of the show

queerbaiting is NOT:

a celebrity who you think is queer because theyre gnc or they have a 'vibe'. that is a real person and they cannot queerbait

two friends of the same gender pretending to flirt with each other for fun. those are real people and they cannot queerbait

a show with two characters of the same gender who are canonically friends that YOU PERSONALLY think would be better in a relationship. that's not bating, that's shipping, and subject to opinion

there are more but those are the main examples of people misunderstanding what queerbaiting is and being mad at something that isn't actually a problem

[emkini]

Toph + Zuko friendship is something that can be so personal

[ID: a digital line drawing of toph leaning on zuko’s head as he sits on the ground, cross-legged. “toph,” sokka says, offscreen, “you can’t just use zuko as an armrest.”

“what?” toph asks, irritated. “do you see him complaining? get off my dick!”

to which katara exclaims, also offscreen, “toph!”

zuko doesn’t seem bothered. an arrow points to him with the text, “just happy to be included”. /end ID]

ID by @maileesque 

[cup-o-stars]

These three!! (You might have to click for quality)

I ended up really liking Usopp's coloring and regretably spent more time on these than the first batch. They were fun though!

🤡🐠🌸

[greenglowinspooks]

Honestly I think the fics where Danny’s a Kryptonian have a lot of potential, so here’s me throwing my hat into the ring

Danny was born a human. He was born to two loving (though slightly neglectful) human parents in the painfully mundane state of Illinois.

Then, he died, but he didn’t do it right. He became a Halfa; too alive to be a ghost, but too dead to be human.

Then, through strange, uncontrollable circumstances, that changed as well.

He had been heavily injured, missing a large percentage of body mass, and was at the cusp of either dying fully or just fading from existence.

(Perhaps it was an ordinary fight. Perhaps it was the GiW, or his parents. Perhaps it was a simple accident. That didn’t matter now.)

He fled, phasing through the ground, trying to bury himself as deep as possible.

(Perhaps he didn’t want to be unmasked in death. Perhaps that was already too late, and he just wanted his body be able to rest in peace.)

Unfortunately for him, he was in Metropolis, and ended up in a secret genetics lab below the earth.

Danny detransformed, completely exhausted, falling onto a table covered in different labeled specimen containers. He closed his eyes, and prepared himself for what would happen next.

And… nothing.

Slowly, cautiously, he opened his eyes.

Danny sat up, brushing off the foul-smelling liquid from the specimen jars, petri dishes, and assorted vials.

He felt…fine.

No, better than fine. He felt normal. Healthy.

He felt like he wasn’t missing most of his internal organs anymore.

Danny looked down at his stomach, and saw that the wounds that were killing him had completely disappeared.

(The blood blossoms, if there had been any, were still there, but they no longer hurt. At most, they itched a little, or maybe just tickled a bit.)

He wanted to question what in the hell had just happened, but he didn’t want to jinx it. He just quietly changed back to Phantom, going invisible and phasing out of wherever he had found himself in, ignoring the loud alarm system that had begun to blare when he broke the samples on that table.

Life mostly went back to normal after that.

If, like Danny, you ignored all the physical changes in a valiant effort to remain in denial that something was horribly wrong.

His skin was tougher, now; he didn’t get scrapes or cuts, even when he accidentally fumbled a knife while trying to cook. His ghost form was stronger, too; he was barely knocked down by his old rogues anymore.

He could fly, even in his human form. Though, admittedly, the flight was much different. It was like using a muscle he hadn’t known existed beforehand. He didn’t just ignore gravity or wind resistance, though he felt more graceful in the air now than he ever did as Phantom.

There were more powers popping up, lasers and cold breath, x-ray vision and super strength. His lungs and heart were larger, and he could handle temperatures much easier. He didn’t have to transform to handle the pressure and cold of space anymore.

His reaction time had improved, becoming much faster than ever before. His senses were much stronger, and he had even seemed to gain a sense of electric fields, like a shark.

The only thing that separated him from a Kryptonian was that he had developed electrokenesis, which he had never seen any of them use on TV.

So, surely, he was fine.

Everything was normal, he hadn’t been transformed by alien DNA in a sketchy lab, he had just had a really weird and specific metagene activation.

—

Clark Kent, Kal-El, was panicking.

It had been around a month and a half since a particularly brutal fight between Interpol and an unknown assailant, and it seemed that Interpol was determined to draw out whoever had scorned them.

Their method of doing this, of course, was trying to level the city.

He and Jon were doing their best to stop them, but with both Kon and Zor-El away on their own business, it was difficult.

And by difficult, he meant almost impossible.

Slowly but surely he was driving them back, but not without massive amounts of damage to the city, especially with only Jon on dedicated rescuing duty.

He was distracted, trying to draw a group away from a heavily occupied building, when a projectile hit him in the back of the head.

The world spun for a moment, and then it went black.

(It was, probably, then, some sort of Kryptonite-metal alloy. Interpol at its finest.)

He woke slowly, forcing his eyes open. He felt like he had been hit by an eighteen wheeler.

Clark jolted up, preparing for the worst.

To his shock, though, the city hadn’t been reduced to rubble while he was out.

Jon seemed to still be working on evacuation, either unaware that he had went down or forcing himself to focus on the task at hand.

Then, a lightning-quick figure flew into view, and Clark’s mind went blank.

He thought, for a moment, that Kara was back. But, no, that wasn’t right, she was supposed to be off-planet for another week or so.

Besides, this new figure didn’t move like her. They were lankier and more slender, and they flew quicker than any member of his family.

Their powerset was different, too; they focused mainly on using blasts of ice and electricity to drive enemies back, only occasionally using their strength or lasers—ones which came from their hands instead of their eyes.

He had woken up at the tail end of the fight, it seemed. The remaining Interpol agents were fleeing from the mysterious metahuman.

They stayed in the sky, motionless, watching them leave.

As if they could sense him staring, they turned.

They were small, still clearly young. Probably around Kon’s age, or maybe even younger.

Instead of the colorful clothing he had inherited from his family, the stranger wore black and white clothes which looked similar to a hazmat suit, their face covered by some sort of gas mask.

Interestingly enough, instead of the S-shape crest that he was so used to seeing, the stranger wore the letter D on his chest.

Kal’s heart sped up.

From up in the sky, he heard the stranger’s heart, on the left instead of the right, speed up in return.

But before he could say a word to them, they sped off, disappearing into the deep blue sky.

[picturemecountingcards]

could only express this in green text format, bear with me

> be me

> in english class

> some guy delivers a meandering nihilistic monologue about how we're all just apes and our only purpose is reproducing, eating, dying and rotting (direct quote) that only vaguely pertains to the question he's being asked

> turn around to look at him

> see his laptop

> it's covered in southpark stickers

[kazz-brekker]

the more we see of harrenhal the funnier it is to me that house strong has produced three of the most normal and reasonable characters on this show, and the fourth is weird in ways that seemingly have nothing to do with having been raised in a haunted castle

[attleboy]

thank you for being so nice to my past couple tadc doodle posts... shitpost be upon thee