#until stated otherwise

[negrowhat]

I absolutely LOVE shots like this but also the bisexual lighting. This was for me!

[sillysiluriforme]

I thought nino had a bi pride pin on in the last post you made, before I remembered that was one of the uniform symbols! So it made me wonder... what are the character's identities? Are any of them queer? I know that they probably have bigger things to worry about what with the devil attacking Paris... but romance and themes of (secret) identity have always been big parts of MLB!

Everyone is bi unless they’re a lesbian. Except Marc who is deeply deeply homosexual.

[xylo-art]

no one escapes my super ace beam….

[the-indigo-symphony]

I think... there might be a small issue in system spaces where everyone is assumed to be white-bodied by default. And I get it, because I know white is seen and treated as the default a lot of the time, but please do make an effort to remember there are folks of lots of different ethnicities and skin tones in this community, and a lot of different cultural upbringings besides. I really enjoy the diversity of this community and I'd hate for it to get brushed aside just for some assumptions. So, let's try not to assume what people on the internet look like or where they're from (or anything else, honestly), okay?

[witchazard]

An intro to my mage college ocs

[your-friend-silver]

[The ask box flickers between pink and it's regular white hue, almost in a sickly manner]

W-when you escape, (sounds like you deserve too...) y-you won't stop playing ALL the games....r-right....? J-just yours...maybe...

Y- uh you...you said this was y-your game...surely you liked them....you'll still want to visit...right? Silver?

[astroskatcher]

Episode 16, 17 and a little of 18 sketches sprinkled in here

[acurlyhobbit]

...will be missed but not forgotten...

...forever part of our family...

...expands beyond "the 118"...

...athena will never be the same...

I understand, yes, I understand.

Bobby Nash, I hope you enjoy retirement my guy, you sure as hell deserve it.

[beasttrash]

edgelord edgeposting

[qqueenofhades]

Where is that text post about procrastinating on a task for literal months only to find that it takes less than 10 minutes to complete and is so very easy. Because etc etc I am in this picture and I don't like it.

[yarrowleef]

I am actually (tentatively) intrigued by moonpaw's mind ghost. the idea of an entity that can make themselves look identical to you and appear to other cats (sometimes?) and maybe do nefarious things with your face is a fun spooky concept.

I don't know how long my intrigue will last, but it exists for the moment

[artisticxlly]

Inquiry for the people: Is there a Haikyu ship that I haven't drawn yet that you guys would maybe like to see my take on?

[stygianheart]

I think one of my “favorite” things is when people misinterpret what it means to be aroace. Watching people so clearly not understand the complexity behind the spectrum of aromatic and asexuality and then proceed to say they “stand with” aroace as an ally is so hilarious to me. Especially when they use this to start bashing on a perfectly fine ship, especially because said ship gets in the way of theirs.

Aroace does not mean no attraction. The plastered poster face for it is people who don’t feel ANY types of attraction, but that does not mean everyone. Aromantic people can date and fall in love. Asexual people can fuck. Aroace people can do both.

Yes, aroace rep IS needed. But we still have it via Luffy—just because Luffy kisses someone (hypothetically) doesn’t mean we just yeeted the aroace label off of him. He is STILL aroace. You know who else is aroace? Bon Clay, for one. Zoro as well. Yet I don’t see people screaming that shipping Zoro with someone completely erases the aroace label, now do I?

Ugh, I’d totally make a whole ass essay about this, but it’s half till midnight. It’s just. Been on my mind for a few hours and I need to say a little shit

[mania-sama]

oikawa always knew what he wanted to be when he grew up. from the moment he saw jose blanco when they were seven years old, he became certain that he would be a professional player. before he was old enough to understand how long it would take or how much energy it would require, oikawa was telling iwaizumi what number jersey he would wear on the national team.

iwaizumi loved volleyball. there was no question about it; he loved the weight against his fingers as he lightly tossed it in the air. he loved the green and brown bruises littering his arms, proving he fought and played well. he loved crouching on the court with five other people, waiting in bated breath to score the next point. he loved the sound the ball made when he spiked it to the ground with enough power to shake the net. he loved springing in the air and diving to the ground.

he loved watching his teammates glow with pride at every point earned, at every win. he loved having support during the hard losses. he loved oikawa, who threw himself so deeply into the sport that it made iwaizumi try that much harder, practice that much longer, want to win that much more.

but, he always knew his love came at a price.

he could see himself playing professionally. he knew that he'd only want to do it if oikawa would be on the court with him. he knew he was only as good as he was when the best high school setter in miyagi brought out his talents. he knew that, at the end of the day, his drive to be an Olympic athlete was crutched by his best friend.

oikawa had developed it alone, separate from iwaizumi. iwaizumi could recognize that, and that was what set them apart.

iwaizumi didn't know what he wanted to be when he grew up. he threw around ideas in his head, every now and then. he knew he couldn't do a corporate job. he'd seen the way men fell asleep in bushes and in shops, never making it home, then waking up again to return to where they worked. it sounded like hell and misery, so he threw it out immediately. he supposed he wouldn't mind traveling the world, but he didn't know where he'd get the funds for that. he didn't care much for history or archaelogy, and those master's and phd's would be what would get him places. he even settled on the military for a time, if he really couldn't figure what he wanted from life by the time he graduated.

then, like dominos, everything began to fall into place. it started like this:

in his third year of middle school, he injured his wrist. he had to see the athletic trainer twice a week, for those were the days the trainer was available to assist the volleyball clubs. his mother was a nurse, so she made sure he kept up with his ice and stretches at home. he cared for himself and the trainer cared for him, coaching him through certain workouts and tracking his progress on a clipboard. he admired the trainer for the first time in his life. not because he was caring for iwaizumi specifically, but because iwaizumi was seeing all of it work. the ice, the workouts, the way his wrist gradually heals until he feels no pain anymore. he found himself curious about the clipboard, though he never asked.

oikawa overworked his ankle and twisted it in their first year of high school. iwaizumi's injury had been minor, but oikawa's was considerably worse. he limped as he walked, and iwaizumi went online and nearly keeled over when the results told him that oikawa would die in the next twenty-four days, that his ankle would never heal properly. mother iwaizumi was far more rational, and their trainer was available four of the five days of the work week, so oikawa was functionally okay. it didn't stop bothering iwaizumi, though. he was by oikawa's side the whole time despite their new friends', matsukawa and hanamaki, teasing. when oikawa allowed him, he examined the twisted ankle, pressing his fingers against the bone, carefully tracing the slightly discolored skin.

he started volunteering at the hospital when he could, though he found he didn't enjoy the atmosphere much. he saw charts, though. he started to get an idea of what was on the paper on the clipboard. that, he enjoyed. he enjoyed seeing patients walk away with grins at good news, and he eavesdropped on nurses and doctors discussing diagnoses he didn't fully understand. his favorites were the ones of athletes, good or bad. shin splints, they said with relief. tendonitis. dislocation. a torn acl, they gasped after coming out of a screaming girl's room.

someone caught wind of his volunteering. during a training camp, a fidgeting player from a different team corners him outside. he asked if iwaizumi had anything, anything, anything at all, though preferably xanax. please, man, he begged. i know you work at a hospital. i'll pay you back. i just- i think somebody stole mine out of my bag a while ago. i can't get through this weekend. hook me up? iwaizumi denied him, told him to get help, told a trusted adult because although he knew it was "uncool" and he was a "snitch", the kid was shaking and knee-deep in drug addiction, and iwaizumi couldn't ignore it no matter how hard he tried. his skin burned from where the guy grabbed him to plead. his tongue was dry from when he tried to gently let him down the first time. his head hurts from the idea betraying his peers, even though he knew they would cover his ass if he had alcohol on him.

they lose to shiratorizawa for the second time in high school, and oikawa tried to get himself another overworked limb. iwaizumi shouted, and shouted, and shouted, and he dragged oikawa out of the gym more nights than not. he sat with him when oikawa was determined to give himself dry-eye from watching volleyball matches all hours of the day. he kept oikawa going.

that addict player died over an overdose over the summer, the news hitting him at the same time as the rest of the miyagi volleyball community. and he started to understand. he understood the way the kid - for though he was older than iwaizumi, he was still just a kid - would react slowly to block the ball, or how he would twitch before his serve. he understood the first time oikawa hurt his ankle, how it had been nothing like iwaizumi’s wrist injury, or how taking xanax during a training camp was nothing like camping out in a basement with a couple of friends and a case of cheap liquor store beer.

on the first full day back to school in their second year, hanamaki pulled iwaizumi aside and said that matsukawa had passed out briefly on the train ride over. iwaizumi didn't know what to do, necessarily, or what it could mean that matsukawa passed out for seemingly no reason, but he decided to keep an eye out. he watched him at practice. watched the way he was slow to block, blinking blearily, swaying on his feet. it could be sleep deprivation, but matsukawa had said he wasn't tired. his second thought was of that player the year prior. he watched, and as much as it pained him, he waited. he waited until they could all get ramen together, because for one reason or another matsukawa found a reason to bail out of after-school food runs. when matsukawa got up to use the bathroom after finishing his food, iwaizuimi waited one, two, three, ten seconds to follow, similarly excusing himself. he listened to matsukawa heave and wretch, and he sat there until matsukawa came out, one hand hastily wiping his mouth. he froze when he saw iwaizumi, and it must've been something on his face, must've been the memory of how he failed to help a kid who was now six feet underground, because matsukawa broke down into tears. i can't stop. i can't, he said. i need to do this to be better at volleyball. i can't gain more weight. it'll bring me down. don't make me stop.

iwaizumi made him do one thing: see the athletic trainer. he got the athletic trainer to give them advice on a diet that would both build muscle and increase their overall health. iwaizumi sent matsukawa on his way with a detailed regimen, but he himself stayed behind with the trainer. he asked, doing his best to remain neutral: which do you think is more important? mental health or physical injuries?

after a while of deliberation, he got received the trainers honest answer. physical injuries. athletes can get severely stressed and disordered after even a minor injury.

iwaizumi nodded. how do i become an athletic trainer?

go to school, the trainer said, smiling. study hard.

taking that to heart, he left. he left with a plan: to go to university, study hard, and write a paper proving that trainer wrong. his paper would be on the psychology behind sports injuries, how its the state of an athelete's mental health that causes injuries. he would then work as an athletic trainer, and he wouldn't let a kid like oikawa overwork themselves, or kids like that player accost underclassmen and overdose, or kids like matsukawa avoid food and expel what little they consumed. because they all wanted one thing. to play better, to be better. and iwaizumi wanted to be there for them, to tell them that a game wasn't worth their lives.

he wanted to be there for the middle school kid with a wrist injury, whos only wish was to keep playing with his best friend.

iwaizumi studied hard. he researched and researched, and he kept volunteering at the hospital even though he hated the smell of sterile rooms and the miserable faces of interns and residents and the floor that housed most of the terminally ill. he shadowed the trainer as they worked with other seijoh clubs when he had the time. he worked, and he cared for oikawa and his various discreet attempts at overworking himself to death.

in his third year of high school, an acceptance letter from the university of california, his top choice of school, arrives at his front door with a full-ride scholarship.

[hawkeinthecitadel]

Am i the only one who doesn’t like it when people try to enforce their Stardew Valley sexuality headcanons onto other players?

“Alex is gay, you shouldn’t romance him if you play a female farmer” where is this mentioned in game?

“Hayley is for the sapphics and the sapphics only” she’s literally not though…

[kachikirby]

Chapter 3 of SD Gundam Gaiden NEO is up for preorder.

I would post a complete thing of images here but P-Bandai JP is not working for me even with my usual VPN trick and MULTIPLE sites I'm checking are saying it's down. Plus, I'm going on vacation tomorrow, so if someone else wants to take one for the team while I'm gone and collect the images from here, go ahead, I'll translate them when I get back.

It's very interesting how vaguely sinister Aerial looks here, but I guess it makes sense since this new armor of theirs was made by Summoner Prospera.

Very cool as well.