#to share their concerns

[pocket-dragon]

POV you ate shit during the family drama hour and your adopted peepaw needed your dogs help finding the Temple

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny regrets living at the FNAF pizzaplex even more now..

[akanemnon]

Maybe they shouldn't have brought up Asriel... The aftermath

FIRST - PREVIOUS - NEXT

MASTERPOST (for the full series / FAQ / reference sheets)

[second-second]

Recently when i began to write fanfiction again i found myself having a really good time and then i felt something i hadn't felt for years. It took me a little while but i recognized it was the same feeling i had when i was a child playing with dolls (or any objects to be honest). Figuring this out was so freeing because the feeling i had when writing previously was more akin to presenting a show. But right now, when i imagine myself swinging the characters i like back and forth like dolls, i am the show is only for me.

Also it makes me feel more at ease and a lot more silly. Like i am kind enough to share the awesome story i made with these two dolls, some duct tape and a toothpick.

[lass-us-slay]

So I read a prompt about how Wonder Woman found Danny in a trash can (don’t remember which one) and I was bored.

So I took that lil info and made it into an AU.

So basically, Danny get yeeted into this unknown universe and has no where to live. And no where to live means no money. No money means no food. No food means Danny can’t keep his human half sustained.

So what does he do?

Decides to not change into a human and live in a trash can.

Yes you heard that right, live in a trash can.

Because he’s a ghost, he doesn’t have to worry about the germs and stuff. But that doesn’t mean he lives in just any trash can! He lives in a clean one ☝️

AND he also decorated it with his name so other people know it’s his!

And so Danny has been here for a while now and realizes

Holy shit there’s hero’s here- you know what, why doesn’t he have hero’s back home?!

And being minorly annoyed jealous (but he’s never admitting that)he thought:

Well since there’s hero’s here already, guess I’m not needed.

.

.

.

Good. I’m tired af

And so Danny caries on his life, being content with his trash can and scaring whoever comes into his alley. It’s fun. Sure he sometimes needs to ugh overshadow people to feed his human side, but other than that.

It’s going great.

But Danny doesn’t realize that with Amity gone (or smth, you choose) which was his haunt, he slowly makes the trash can into his new haunt.

And slowly but surely, Danny’s beloved haunt trash can starts to become other worldly kinda.

Yk because of the ectoplasm.

So now Danny’s lovely trash can haunt has more space inside and- Hey Danny can actually sleep in it better!! And he got some company too!

In the form of blob ghosts.

Two actually.

They keep his trash can clean and help purifying some corrupted ectoplasm that he finds. Because for some reason this universe’s ectoplasm seems half way artificial and tastes a bit weird. Which is where the blob ghosts help out in.

Everything was great.

Danny was loving the trash can life style.

He has two blob ghosts friends. Which he named Sam and Tucker, and yea they couldn’t talk but that was fine.

He wasn’t lonely, he wasn’t. He had two very much talking friends like Sam and Tucker.

However one day two weirdly dressed people- oh they were hero’s.

Well anyway they found him, one woman stripper and one furry guy.

But it was on accident! He was just peaking out of his beloved haunt trash can, and they spotted him.

He stared, they stared back.

Then the woman stripper asked him questions, even when he said:

“Don’t mind me, have a nice day!”

But they just kept bother him and giving him weird looks and glances.

Which- rude.

Didn’t they see his mark on his haunt trash can? Obviously it means it’s his home, so they shouldn’t be bothering him still. He’s safe as can be.

Plus.

It’s not like he’s looking at them in suspicion and weirdness, I mean look at them! What kinda cheep knock off vampire fury mix and American stripper style clothing are those!

They should mind their own business!

———

Just a silly lil drawing of this lmao, don’t mind me.

[charleezard]

why would you be unsafe at pride

I'm going to assume this question is asked in good faith and with a genuine interest in my safety. I'm also going to be very direct and blunt.

Jewish people are being targeted and attacked worldwide. Not just in right-wing spaces, but also leftist spaces. And yes that includes Pride and queer related events. If I want to attend pride wearing my kippah and my magen david, there is a good chance I will have some unpleasant words thrown at me, at the very least. There is a chance I will be physically attacked and/or kicked out of the march.

I would recommend spending more time listening to Jewish people on their struggle with antisemitism in the present. I don't mean that as a snarky comment, I just think listening to minorities about their struggles is a crucial part of activism. Hope this answered your question! If you'd like to ask more questions, feel free to reach out again, either in my ask box or my DMs

[mumblesplash]

he’s back !!!

[julijbee]

girlbossing too close to the sun.

[swampthingking]

andrew’s definitely gotten in trouble with his pr manager for tweeting things along the lines of:

“no mania inducing medication will compare to the euphoria i will feel the day donald trump drops dead”

[yukipri]

Cody went to the vet for his annual today

Cats tag: #YukiPriASLKittens

[watchyourbuck]

911 characters as Tumblr posts | 3/20

[ahollowgrave]

hey come here

reblog your own work. reblog it as much as you want. the dashboard is chronological (mostly) so you gotta put it back out there!! ok bye

[mediumgayitalian]

“Your hands.”

William smiles, tiredly, glancing down at the chapped fingers crooked around the tarnished silverware.

“Yes,” he says. “I know.”

“Don’t they hurt?”

“I’m used to it.”

He smiles again, after he says it; I’m used to it, don’t worry. He eats fine, does not wince as he moves and flexes the cracking skin, but it does not take long for them to bleed; sluggishly, slowly, pearling along tectonic lines, pooling in creases and knuckle dips.

Niccolò returns to his dinner, and watches him. The tap of his foot is at odds with the clink clink clink of his knife, the scrape of his fork along his chipped front tooth. His shoulders droop but his face does not, hair still pinned back, eyes sleepy and far away. His freckles seem to twinkle under the flickering of the candlelight, making those blue eyes into something sparkling.

“You should sleep,” Niccolò says, swallowing. “You’re tired.”

William finishes the last of his plate, and smiles, again, small and pretty and tired, still, but the gentle kind.

“It is my turn with the washing.”

“Yes,” Niccolò agrees, “but you are sleepy. And your hands are chapped.”

William says nothing more, only hums, but he kisses Niccolò’s forehead as he passes, gentle, squeezing his shoulder, and sets his dishes on the counter by the sink, untouched.

“Goodnight,” he calls from the bedroom, as Niccolò’s hands are slippery from the soap, and warm.

“Goodnight,” Niccolò responds, and turns back to the sink. He can hear the bed springs creak, and William sigh, and he smiles, waiting on the snores. They do not take long. He hums along to them as he finishes, washing up the pots, too, and the oven, and the counters. Soon the kitchen is sparkling and the sun sits low on the horizon, and he dusts, too, having noticed the griminess floating among the golden rays.

At the end of it his hands are smarting. The soap clings to his skin, even as he rinses them, and he tries to avoid picking at his knuckles, rubbing the skin; reddening them further.

He tries to imagine this, day in and day out; bedpans and food trays and cutlery and surgical knives, all dirtied, all reused. Stinging lye soap and coppery bleach. Aching, chapping hands, curled to bleeding, stretched to tearing; worn through elastic.

He retreats to his study, frowning.

———

based on “he loved her to the point of invention” (7th slide)

[disgurrr]

I remember how I used to cringe or become annoyed whenever I thought about the whole “Gale is mine. I am his. Anything else is unthinkable,” but now I just laugh at it. Because to me, it’s not Katniss declaring her romantic love for Gale or even a big Gale/Katniss moment, but instead, it’s shedding light on what Peeta means (or even threatens) for Gale/Katniss. Because before there was Peeta and Katniss, there was Katniss and Gale. And I think that’s the point of her thinking about the phantom girl who was meant to represent Peeta, and her feeling the way she did in that moment ( plus yk her emotions being amplified because he was whipped with every inch of his life).

Gale and Katniss shared a strong connection, and here comes Peeta Mellark, just changing everything. She fell in love with Peeta instead, he was the one who she would drop everything for, the one who made her feel happy and hungry for kisses. Peeta made her feel more than Gale could ever in their five-year friendship. And both Gale and Katniss knew that. And I think that’s the point of “Gale is mine. I am his.” Because it wasn’t meant to be like that. Its almost like “how could I do this to Gale.” Peeta was the outsider. Gale was her rebellious best friend who came from the same world. Gale made sense, and Peeta was the merchant stranger. And yet, she continues to choose him, fall deeper in love, and desire him so deeply that she daydreams his child.

It’s not that I think she cheated on Gale or anyone, but to Gale and Katniss, she did. To them, Peeta stole her from Gale, and she betrayed him. To them, Peeta took her and made her feel so good that it felt like luxury. And I just find that funny in my weird, toxic way.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Hi! I've been seeing your art reposted a LOT on pintrest. I'm not sure what your status is on being ok with people reposting your art but I thought I'd let you know anyway. The pintrest accs are:

@.Mik0mii (didn't give credit)

@.Pai0_Kai_ (gave credit)

@.ArrozConPolo_1 (no credit)

@.suilie4zui (no credit)

@.dustyfavre (credit)

@.Katsukiisama (no credit)

And about 5 million more QwQ

So when it comes to reposting my art on Pinterest, I’m personally okay with it! I actually find it kinda flattering to have my art reposted there

Though bare minimum I do want to at least be credited, so if you ever see my art on there uncredited just add the credit yourself in the comments!

[royalarchivist]

[A sad violin song plays over an image of a sad hamster]

Pac: This doesn't have anything to do with me – I wear a blue sweatshirt, you're crazy, this mouse doesn't even have a sweatshirt, this hamster! [Reading chat] Am I a depressed hamster?

[ Transcript continued ↓ ]*

–

Pac: Actually– that's fine! I embrace that idea – of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy? [He hits his desk, then starts counting off people on his fingers] Fit is gone, Richarlyson is gone, Ramon is gone, Bagi and Empanada who were always there when we were there are also gone, I haven't seen them! It's just me and Tubbo, and sometimes Philza shows up.

Pac: I lost Chume Labs, I lost the Favela, I lost Murder Mystery, I lost Ilha Chume Labs, it's crazy! Look at how much I've lost, and I've gained nothing! Of course I'm going to be depressed, are you crazy?! How am I supposed to be happy?!

Pac: [Reading chat] "You have us Pac," that's true, thank you. No, that's true, sorry.

* NOTE: Please note that this is an incomplete transcript, as I was primarily relying on Aypierre's translation mod at the time and if I am not confident of the translation, I do not include it. As always, please feel free to add on translations or message me corrections.