#the lighting looks SO sick!!

[they-them-pussy]

new metric for media literacy for film bros is if they understand the barbie movie.

the kens are first presented as accessories to their barbies and it's pointed out loud that they don't even have places to stay in barbieland. one of the barbies straight up asks "wait, where do the kens stay?". they're just arm candy made to look pretty and cool while the barbies run their world.

but that's fucked up!!! the film presents it as fucked up! that's why ken screams "YOU FAILED ME!" and why he is insecure in the first place because he wanted to be respected and seen as a person, not someone who only exists in relation to someone else. should he have done what he did? no!!! that's why it's part of the conflict! the root of both of their breakdowns was in their society in that the barbies are supposed to be perfect and the kens exist in relation to them! it's barbie and ken. he was a footnote. that's why barbie apologizes to him in the end and tells him he can be himself. she doesn't have to exist by some set of rules and neither does he! it's barbie and it's ken! sure, the resolution to the whole barbieland issue wasn't perfect, BUT KEN'S WHOLE ARC IS ABOUT HOW THEIR WORLD FAILED MEN. WHAT DO YOU MEAN THIS MOVIE WAS 'WOMEN GOOD MAN BAD'. WHAT ABOUT THE NUANCE

[ash-and-starlight]

one day, in a thousand years

[bamsara]

being an adult means we can buy or make as much self-indulgent shit (as we can afford) and unironically have trinkets of our fave things cause our teen years was bullied for liking things and hiding/denying we were ever neurodivergent to the point of suicide. sucks for anyone that thinks its weird cringe but I'm going to try and allow myself to love myself in little ways now

[puppyeared]

Why are ppl scared to call it what it is and say we’re still going thru covid on top of seasonal illness. Like. That’s pretty important right. I was watching the news and they were like oh yeah we have an unprecedented number of flu cases “as well as other sicknesses” without actually saying Covid. No announcement abt vaccinations or masking or anything. Also if I hear someone joking abt “war flashbacks” for mentioning covid I fucking hate u

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

you're a diver from Fontaine, one of the best in the entire Court, and are known far and wide for your ability to collect whatever resource people need- that's where most of your pay comes from, collecting beryl conches and romaritime flowers for jewelry, perfumes, and the like. but you also enjoy diving as a hobby, spending most of your time off in the water and enjoying the sights, your Vision allowing you to breathe easily under the waves. there's something about floating weightlessly in oceanic world that helps you feel so calm and at peace.

it's during one of these leisurely dives that you encounter something- or someone- incredible.

you won't lie, you were swimming too close to the Fortress of Meropide. yes, it's technically forbidden, but you couldn't help but investigate the deeper waters and caves around it after so long of staying away from the area! as long as you stayed away from the searchlights, no one would suspect a thing, so you swam down into the murky gloom. it's more difficult to see as you cautiously glance around, slightly on edge- until you come face-to-face with an oddly glowing light, seemingly emitting from a faceted crystal. you don't dare go towards it (you've had enough experience with ocean creatures to know it very well could be a lure), so instead it decides to come towards you, and an enormous slinking creature is revealed from the darkness. your blood runs cold, all instincts screaming to get away, run, but the monster merely chitters curiously, tilting his horned head and blinking at you quietly.

hesitantly, you raise a hand and wave, and the beast's singular eye widens in awe as he waves back.

you come back to visit the odd creature again and again after that day, becoming adept at avoiding the lights of Fontaine's prison. the monster- Childe, as he told you via carvings on the wall- was incredibly sweet despite his intimidating appearance, greeting you with a delighted chirp and a hug, always extremely gentle with you. he follows you as you explore, protecting you and bringing you trinkets that have sunk to the ocean floor, nudging your hands for head scritches. through his gestures and warbling tones you deduce that he lives in a cavern further below, one you refuse to go to- it makes your skin crawl, for some reason. rarely does Childe come to the surface, but occasionally he'll accompany you if he doesn't want to see you go, wrapping his scaled tail around your legs and whining until you give him a kiss on the forehead. he loves you, and you love him, and he was your special secret.

until you began to fall mysteriously ill, your breaths coming out short and ragged and your head filling with cotton clouds. at first you think it's just a common cold, but it doesn't go away, only getting worse over time. the doctors you visit don't seem to have a cure, merely telling you to rest until you feel better, which you never do, no matter how many hours you sit on the shore with Childe's head in your lap. his worry for you makes you feel a little happier, caressing his cheeks and whispering hoarsely to him as he whimpers, claws dancing over your cheeks in an attempt to hold you back. but it hurts and you cough again and again, growing weaker by the day for no reason other than fate's cruel story.

you don't know that Childe is a monster from the Primordial Sea, gradually wearing away at your strength and life, until it's too late.

[rithmeres]

'before you embark on a journey of revenge, dig two graves' what a stupid quote. im killing way more than two people idiot

[crispywizardtale]

[aimseytv]

[greeneyed-thestral]

«Remember everything that happened. The good, the bad.»

[etrevil]

a wounded child and an object of terror

[skoulsons]

if I could have a moment of your time

to show a man that is so incredibly in love with his daughter. A man who only wants to make her laugh. A man who only wants to see his little girl smile after all she’s been through, and he does his best to do or say things even if it gets a slight smile out of her. A man who looks at her like she is…everything. Like she hung every star. Like she’s painted the most beautiful paintings. Like she is the most beautiful thing to ever exist. No sunset, flower, not even the world going back to normal could ever compare to her to how she makes him feel. A man who would, and does, murder a hospital full of people just to save her life. His stone cold expression the whole way because only she matters. The mess of bodies he leaves behind him means nothing. The only thing that matters now, and for the rest of his life, is this adorable little girl who literally saved his life.

[ladykyriaa]

Waiting for Jinshi's originial hair stick to finally return to either him or Maomao is literally the equivalent to me waiting for Marinette's scarf reveal i cant keep doing this😭😭😭

[travellingdragon]

one day I'll know what to write here but until then just enjoy them cuddling ^^

(buddie fanart parts 1, 2, 3, 4 and 5)

[beastofwant]

yeah you're allowed to "have preferences" or whatever the shit but if you treat people like ticking time bombs because they've got a penis I think you should really re-examine where that's coming from and idk, grow up a little

[cupiidzbow]

i am literally shaking so much im so happy rn thank you so much @dethbug for this earth shatteringly wonderful commission im sobbing into my hands 💕

[politemagic]

dabbling in writing a little bit of slasher iii👀 it's not much, but i've had this idea for months and figured it's about time i did something with it. written while listening to deadrose by unprocessed. not necessary but it's currently topping my slasher iii song list

632 words

Time had muddled in their brain, they had no idea how long it had been since he’d disappeared from their sight, but they knew they were running out of time regardless. The rope binding their limbs had been tied with expert hands. As they struggled against their bonds, the rope’s grip only tightened, the fibers rubbing their wrists and ankles raw until it began to turn pink with their blood. Their eyes frantically searched the room for anything that might help them escape, but they found little that could be of assistance. 

The room he imprisoned them in was almost entirely bare, save for a pile of discarded, bloody clothing heaped into the corner and the black journal the masked man always carried with him. When he left the room, the journal had fallen from his pocket, haphazardly forgotten by the door.

Their curious nature overtook them as they scooted across the grimy floor, nudging the cover open with their toe. Their blood ran ice cold as a pair of vibrant blue eyes stared back at them from the first page. A photograph of a handsome man was paperclipped to the page, partially obscuring what they knew were the events of the final hours of that man’s life. They felt bile creep up their throat as their eyes scanned across the page.

17:43 He believes crying will help him, that his tears will compel me to release him. It’s pathetic, really. I thought he would be stronger. But the tears make his eyes look so pretty, maybe I’ll keep him a little longer.

The horrors of the first page had done nothing to prepare them for the next, as they found those same vibrant blue eyes staring back at them, cold and devoid of life. They tried not to stare too long at dark red blood oozing from the gaping wound in his throat. The pages that followed were all the same format: a photograph of some poor unfortunate soul accompanied by a horrifically detailed account of their final moments, followed by another photo of their corpse. On some pages, he had even smeared blood across the page in vaguely artistic patterns. 

As they flipped the final page, they bit down on their lip to stifle their scream as their own face smiled back from this book of horrors. Despite his poor attempt to crop the image before printing it, they could tell it was a screenshot from their Instagram, a photo they had posted in a moment of self-confidence. A photo that this deranged man would use to remember them by, a juxtaposition for the horrific photo they knew would occupy the next page soon enough.

The door creaked open, and they lifted their gaze from the photo to meet his darkened eyes, crinkled from the grin he hid beneath his mask.

“I see you’ve found my scrapbook,” The smile in his voice told them that he had always intended to drop the journal, that he wanted them to read it, to see what was in store for them. 

He crouched before them, plucking the journal off the floor and thumbing through the pages before returning to the image of the blue-eyed man. He stroked the image tenderly with his index finger before turning it around to once again display the image of his lifeless corpse.

“He’s still my favorite, I think. But you… I believe you’ll be a close second,” His other hand gently traced the contours of their jaw. “You’re going to be my masterpiece, darling.”

He stood then, chuckling to himself as he tucked the book underneath his arm and spun on his heels, striding back out the door as they crumpled to the ground, terrified of what other sick games he might be playing with them.