#you didn’t see me crying

[camofag]

the public reaction to i saw the tv glow is like a perfect case study into how cis people take up queer spaces and unknowingly mock and enjoy trans suffering. sitting in the theater, i had a pit in my stomach the entire time. so many times, i would tear up and then someone else in the theater would laugh. and i wouldn’t cry because how would they look at me when the lights came back on? because they don’t see it. they don’t see the pain. they think it’s funny. i left the theater completely silent, not saying a word to my boyfriend and he didn’t say a word to me until partway into the drive home. the people around us immediately got to picking it apart, explaining what it all meant to each other, dumbing it down, making theories. cis people see the the movie, just like transness, as something to debate. a conversation. something to dissect because it makes them uncomfortable if they don’t understand it in their easily digestible way.

[shima-draws]

Ghost Cora AU where he’s actually been following Law around ever since he died but nobody has been able to see him, so all he’s able to do is watch Law get hurt and suffer in silence. UNTIL, miraculously, the battle of Dressrosa ends, and for some strange reason—through some supernatural bullshit or maybe just fate—one person is finally able to see him.

Law is sitting on the deck of the Yonta Maria watching everyone party when Luffy comes trotting over to him. And Luffy plops down beside him and says, “I’ve been meaning to ask, Torao, but who’s that really tall blonde guy with the funny makeup that’s been following you around?”

And Law’s just like

[funkyboxofinterests]

Wolfwood: I am going to kill you

Vash: omg 😳 babe 🥰🥺🥺

[lesbikill]

being so honest right now heathertail should’ve taken every plotline given to harestar and then built on them & it’s a disservice to the po3-oots arcs that she didn’t. she has a disregard for the parts of the code she disagrees with, and she’s been turned away by a member of the three as a result, first with compassion but then viciously, with him swearing her as his enemy and threatening her straight after nearly murdering her mentor. he comes close to killing her and the book tells us she *knows* it.

seeing the dark forest pick up on this rivalry, on the way she’s been unfairly treated by lionblaze, and taking advantage of it would have been really interesting. it would have given way more set-up to her relationship with breezepelt and given her more agency in it then being the wife who fixes him later on. it would’ve given her an arc of her own. it would have given her a long-lasting and present relationship with lionblaze, making his chapters significantly stronger. seeing this rebellious little apprentice go from a friendly presence to a serious threat created by the flaws of the main character & the clan system would be fun.

and then eventually, after lionblaze has lost his powers and is struggling, we would see heathertail grow behind the scenes and eventually ascend to leadership of windclan. maybe they would reconcile, maybe they would remain a bitter reminder to each other of the past and what could have been, of childhood friendship tarnished with clan patriotism and needless violence. who knows. but id love to read about it.

[kacievvbbbb]

Honestly despite my feelings about how the last arc of MHA went down I really love Deku and his story.

I just feel like a lot of the time we get these protagonists whose whole philosophy is it doesn’t matter what you were born as everyone can achieve greatness. But then the series goes on and it turns out that actually it DOES matter because the protagonist has this really great lineage and these really great powers you can only have through birth they were actually born born, predestined if you will, to do this.

But MHA actually sticks to its guns. Midoriya wasn’t revealed to have some great connection to all might that the universe had put in place. He wasn’t defended from some great lineage that makes him uniquely suited to this. Hell All for one didn’t even turn out to be his father, there was no hidden powerful quirk he was always meant to have. He was just Midoriya Izuku a boy who was in the right place at the right time and simply decided to act while the world did nothing. And that’s what really made him a hero.

I don’t know, maybe it’s just me, but I believe him a bit more when he goes anybody can be a hero if you just decide to act

[blue-eli]

Skuld in quantum design :)

[chuluoyi]

being mature is realizing that even when you have a lot of things to say bc you’re disappointed, you won’t because you have to take other people’s feelings into account :’)

[daboyau]

I got an idea when looking at this post by @tangledinink. I couldn’t rest until I’d jotted it down. The art possessed me like an evil spirit. warnings for body horror, vomiting, general fuckery. 💚

what probably happened directly before Leo found himself in this situation:

Leo: Fairies? No way those sparkly little assholes are real.

The fae who happened to be within earshot: and i took that personally.

Anyway, here we gooooo:

Leo opens his mouth to scream, but the sound won’t come out. He gags on the feeling of it catching inside his throat, and then again when the trapped scream begins to grow thorns. It scrapes its way up, and he claws desperately at his throat, trying to tear the feeling out, falling to his knees as he gags around the forced silence.

The threat of suffocation is enough to tear his attention, however briefly, away from the horror of what is happening to his shell. His body is changing itself on the urging of some other thing’s whims, and even though his nerves didn’t seem to get the memo that a dissolving shell (you know, the thing that most of his internal organs and, like, half of his bones need to stay inside his body?) should probably hurt a lot, he can still feel it.

He retches as the first flower falls from his lips. It hits the ground with a disgustingly wet sound, coated with bile and saliva. It shines wetly, rich orange hues standing out brightly against the black soil. The rest follow shortly after, a painful deluge of familiar colors, and he’s helpless to do anything but dig his fingers deep into the rich soil and try not to let the horrific impossibility of the situation drive him crazy. Tears flow freely, staining his cheeks before they fall to the ground below, greedily absorbed by the cursed earth of this place.

“Oh, dear,” a voice says, too close for him not to have noticed their presence. He tries to jerk back, but he can’t pull his fingers from the dirt. It hurts when he tries. A high pitched whine escapes his throat, but he’s too terrified to be embarrassed by that. The voice shushes him, soothes him, and warm fingers wrap tight around the back of his neck. They come to rest just above where the lip of his shell should be. He sobs at the way his back squirms as heat shoots down his spine and something begins to grow. The furred fingers drag like velvet against his scales as they squeeze, the sharp prick of claws threatening to break skin, and then release him just as suddenly. 

“So much sorrow and pain. And, oh, so many regrets,” the thing says as she circles him, humming a tune that makes his head pound in rhythm with his racing heart. His hands have sunk beneath the black soil, and it has begun licking greedily at his wrists as well. He can feel tendrils of something wet and cold winding themselves around his fingers, and he wants to scream again, but the bursts of bile-soaked colors decorating the ground keep him from opening his mouth. He can feel a petal still clinging to his bottom lip, and when the thing kneels before him, she reaches out to pluck it off, unbothered by the way he shrinks as far away from her touch as he can manage.

She slips it between her lips, and he catches a flash of a blackened tongue as it darts out to meet that single purple petal. Her teeth are sharp when she smiles at him. They hadn’t been sharp, when she’d first approached him in the Hidden City. Nothing about her had been.

In the dim lights of the underground world he and his brothers had only recently begun to explore, she had looked soft. He’d seen her approaching, and the first thought to flit through his head was, aw, bunny. A fluffy, rounded face. Big eyes, dark and deep as a still pond as they reflected the flickering neon of a sign in the shop window behind him. A pink nose had twitched when she’d smiled at him, sweet and kind, and asked him for his name. 

(What had he told her?)

Now, she would be unrecognizable, if not for the same strawberry patterned dress that drapes over her stretched out frame. He’d think to compare her to a hare now, but the hares he’d seen when watching Animal Planet with mikey had never looked like they would take delight in tearing his nails off one by one or plucking out his eyeballs. They had never made his vision swim or his body shake when he’d looked at them. Maybe she’s become more of a wolf.

The soil has reached his elbows. Those cool, slimy tendrils have circled his wrists like shackles. They’re squeezing tighter and tighter, and he feels his fingers throb and tingle as circulation is cut off. 

His mind flashes briefly to raph and how he used to tell them not to wear rubber bands on their wrists, convinced that their hands would fall right off if they got squeezed too tight. He wonders if the things that live beneath the dirt will steal what they’ve claimed, just like she’s stollen his shell. Another sound wants to bubble up his throat at the thought, and he lets it, because what use is a swordsman without his hands?

The hysterical giggles escape as big, iridescent bubbles. They glitter pink and blue and leave a bitter taste on his tongue. They only float a few feet into the air before they fall back to the ground, their attempt to flee the horror of this situation not getting too far at all. Soft green grass rises up from the dirt to catch them, but they do not pop. They rest, suspended on those tiny blades, for far longer than any bubble he’s ever blown before. He watches, transfixed, as his laughter is eventually swallowed by green. It begins to spread.

A hand cradles his chin, and his gaze jerks back to the thing that brought him here. She is watching him intently, eyes darting to take in every tiny change in his expression. She looks curious, in the same way that donnie does when he’s thinking about all the ways he can take something apart, and what he can do with those pieces to create something better. 

Her hand is soft where it touches him. She is gentle as she wipes a cloth across his mouth. It feels like water, soothing and cool, and he finds himself leaning into this tiny offer of comfort among the stomach churning violation of what is being done to him. His eyes flutter, and he distantly registers that the face she wears seems to swim before his eyes with each rapid blink, shifting back and forth between bunny and wolf and something other. She looks like she wants to devour him whole, no matter which face she wears.

From this close, he can see the way her eyes sparkle and dance when she smiles. He can’t help but think that maybe being swallowed whole wouldn’t be such a bad way to go, after all. 

The writhing shackles around his wrists tighten. 

She laughs, breathy and soft, and the sound is layered and beautiful like wind chimes. It conjures a hurricane inside his mind. Her cool breath gusts over his face. It smells like churned dirt and funeral flowers and pustulous rot. He doesn’t know if he wants to gag or breathe deeper. 

“Little blossom,” she croons, cupping both his cheeks, dragging their faces close. He doesn’t resist. She giggles, and she drags those soft hands and those sharp claws down his neck and over his shoulders, fingertips bumping against the disgustinghorriblewrongparasitetumor gathering of delicate buds that have sprouted up all across his back. She pinches one between the pads of her fingers, and he wants to screamcrybeghertostoppushherawaycutherdownandtearthemalloutbytheroots be good for her.

“Little blossom,” she says again, and those dark eyes catch his gaze and hold it as a heavy feeling settles against his skin, across his shoulders, around his neck, and he can’t look away no matter how desperately he tries. But he doesn’t want to try. Her smile stretches wider, wider, and for one brief flicker of a second he can see blood on her teeth as she asks, “Do you believe now?”

.

(Side note just for fun. The flowers that appear in this but aren’t actually described or named are:

Orange marigold, for grief and despair

Purple hyacinth, for sorrow and asking for forgiveness

Red cyclamen, for goodbye and resignation

Yellow zinnia, for missing a friend and remembrance

Bluebells, for gratitude and everlasting love 

[clegfly]

Getting REAL sick and tired of how omori TikTok views sunny.

Like, they view any scene of him being emotionally vulnerable, affectionate, or even just making an expression outside of just being completely neutral as “mischaracterised”. He’s not some cool, stoic, unwavering badass, he is a traumatised teenager. Don’t cry whenever he dares to give his friend a hug or (god forbid) be SAD about something??? Isn’t like. Part of the point of his development about him allowing himself to break down the repressive walls he built when he shut himself in? And being able to rely on his real friends instead of imaginary versions? And isn’t the game like. Meant to SHOW that he still cares about them despite isolating himself?

It’s really stupid to get mad at a character like that showing emotion or affection personally, especially since he’s not used to expressing it properly after so long. But that’s just me

[nerdetiquette]

I don’t think words are enough to express how much the Juno Steel stories means to me and how much Juno himself means to me, but I am calling myself a writer now, so I am making an attempt to find the words, even if they will not be enough.

Juno Steel is such a character driven and focused story with an amazing amount of care put into it. There was care put into Nightmare at the end, the Aurinkos in the middle, and Juno in the beginning, and all of it led to the conclusion of a beautiful thing. Juno gave way for all of it, and the themes of self improvement and self love being the end of the story, the final lessons Harley and Kevin have decided to teach us, make the story what it is.

I love this show from the bottom of my heart and it’s done so much for me. Thank you for all of the lessons you have taught me on how to be a better person, how to be a complete person, and how to continue being a person even when it’s hard. Juno’s themes are so human and something everyone can relate to, and I think the human element is what makes it mean so much.

Thank you Harley and Kevin, though I hope you never see this and perceive me more than saying my name at the end of episodes, this story means the world to me. It means the world to many others. I’m so happy I kept going, even though I hated Juno in the first season. I’m so happy my friend got me into the podcast with the disgusting make out noises in the second episode. I’m so happy I was able to listen to this show, and I’m so happy it affected me so much.

[airborneice]

You’re right actually, we are sleeping on this little guy (no need for an art trade either, I’m trying to support this obsession since it’s much preferable to that other Hilda creature who I shan’t mention. Also he’s so fun)

HE!!!!

[dinkabell-art]

Thank you, thank you everyone for all your love and support. The response has been a bit overwhelming. Thank you.

Aziraphale as a character means so much to me. He deserves all the hugs. I’m glad you agree.

(Inspiration for page 7 linked above).

[gladiatorcunt]

han solo wants what atton rand has

[starlooove]

No one is asking you to like cops IRL, not even the show. If you look at Arcane and what you see is copaganda, if you look at Cait and only see PoLiCe OfFiCeR and not the character, the problem is YOU.

1. I never said anyone asked me to like cops irl

2. I know that’s what I said.

[rodentjazz]

*out of breath, bloodied clothes, tears running down face* I finished apotheosis

[misterdrwilson]

Actual images of me moments after adding “Too Sweet” by Hozier to “toxic old man yaoi || a hilson playlist”