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Who I think the LADS men are for

Rafayel is for

• the escapism girls

• the romantasy girls

• the “no, it’s not perfect yet” girls

• the “always the artist, never the muse” girls

• the “yeah, i believe in soulmates” girls

• the “i’m my own worst critic” girls

• the “maybe one day someone will appreciate everything i have to give” girls

Xavier is for

• the “i wish i could catch a break” girls

• the “i’m so tired, but i can’t stop” girls

• the “i’ll take a break when i’m finished” girls

• the “oh, i forgot to eat again” girls

• the “i’ll be okay, i’m used to this” girls

• the insomniacs and chronic illness girls

• the “i don’t want to be a burden” girls

Zayne is for

• the “heartbreak songs remind me more of my parents than my ex” girls

• the “you don’t know the violence it took to become this soft” girls

• the “i’ll wait until i’m in the shower to cry” girls

• the burned out gifted kid girls

• the “i’m smart, but not smart enough” girls

• the poetry girls

• the “i don’t understand why i’m not good enough” girls

Sylus is for

• the eldest/only daughter

• the “i can handle it myself” girls

• the “i don’t feel a sense of accomplishment, just a mild sense of relief that it’s done” girls

• the “mature for your age” girls

• the “i’m tired of taking care of myself” girls

• the “my worth comes from my accomplishments” girls

• the “i wish someone would take the reins so i don’t have to” girls

Caleb is for

• the “i had to grow up before i was ready” girls

• the “why are you so loud?” girls

• the “no, i’m okay, what’s going on with you?” girls

• the therapist friend girls

• the maladaptive daydreaming girls

• the “i wish someone cared as much as i do” girls

• the “i don’t think i can do this anymore” girls

nice version

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Ordinary Days - 1

Away from the capital, Sylus leads the insurgency movement from the northern regions of the country with the help of a deer hybrid. Your presence made him all more convicted to his cause and when the war ends, he looks forward to the day you don't have to dig up sweet potatoes for breakfast anymore. A Deer Hybrid! Reader x Dragon Hybrid! Sylus Fic Summary: Gaining the favor of a war veteran to declare his support for the movement is difficult at is, much alone said war veteran is also your father. Tags: Sylus x Reader, Hybrid AU, Suggestive Themes, Fluff, Predator/Prey, Implied conflict Word Count: 977 words Author's Note:  Title is based on a fan comic by Silver from Pixiv. This isn't a series (yet) but more of a collection of snippets while I figure out how to outline this concept and I thought maybe I should share what I have while I am at it. Had elements from both Love and Deepspace and Arknights with some of my ideas blended in. Anyways, enjoy!

Favor, Not Easily Obtained

Patriot.

It is a title your father is most infamous of and Sylus grew up in the halls of Imperial Palace at Deity Grypherburg, the capital of Ursus, with that title spoken reverently even by high ranking officials themselves.

Unmatched.

Unparalleled.

Indestructible.

Your father led the Ursus Imperial Army to victory against many of its conquests several times without fail and you would be a fool to not run away when you see him from a distance leading the march, the antlers on his head coupled with his imposing stature is enough to make a rational man turn and go back from where they came. 

(Irrational ones will only realize they are on the losing end once the halberd of your father flying all the way from the other side of no man’s land pierces them right on their faces.)

Beloved hero of Ursus.

One would have thought the man would be at least amicable to be around with based on the tales that Sylus heard from the nannies that looked after him before they tucked him for the night coupled with the images he saw in books and in the paintings at the royal barracks but no-

-Your father is without a doubt, the most overbearing man he has ever met.

The old guard had never once spoken a word to him the first time you have introduced them to each other (Sylus would never understand how you don’t see the need to mention that your father is the war hero every citizen in Ursus loves on your way to the village where you live the first time you met) and even when they were here in the freezing tundra fighting side by side in a civil war that will make or break the country, the closest conversation Sylus ever had with him was a grunt.

A grunt.

That’s basically it.

Sylus had heard him talk to the soldiers and even the other villagers, his voice soft and replies clipped apparently because of his damaged larynx, and it will only increase volume when he is barking orders but to Sylus?

The least Sylus can get is a finger pointing to a pin on the map before reconnaissance and the best is a grunt.

Initially, Sylus does not see the need to bring this up to you because he doesn’t want you to play mediator on this matter, not when you already are between him and the common folk.

He had been educated well enough to know that you can earn the support of a battleworn veteran through action and that means-

-A demonstration of his military intellect and strength.

Even then, your father’s overbearing presence and scrutinizing gaze did not only stay in the battlefield but also in the village doubling as camp as well.

“Is there something bothering you, your highness?”, you asked, pausing from mending a tear on his coat, and Sylus only shook his head, wrapping his tail around your waist while simultaneously pulling you closer to his side.

The laughter of the children playing with the soldiers, the cackle of the bonfire, and the faint scent of food from the kitchens being prepared wafting all the way here was almost enough to soothe his worries regarding the possible outcomes of this civil war.

Almost enough because-

-He doesn’t have to turn around to see that your father’s eyes are trained at his back.

Word has it that your father deserted the Ursus Imperial Army for what the elites have done to your older brother and that distaste extends to anyone, anyone who is born with a golden spoon in their mouth which unfortunately, includes him.

It would take tremendous effort for the war veteran to support his cause and even more for Sylus to convince that he, the bastard prince of the Royal Family, does not see you as a passing fancy but something more.

Afterall, Sylus is more motivated than ever to reshape the country just for you.

“Didn’t I tell you there is no need for formalities, little doe?”

“Old habits die hard, your highness.”

“Then maybe I should help you practice saying my name, sweetheart.”

The tips of your deer ears always turn red on such comments, a shy smile on your lips, and Sylus was about to rub his horns against your antlers in amusement, a little routine between the two of you, when he heard the all too familiar grunt coming from your father observing you both from a distance-

-No, it wasn’t a grunt but a huff.

A huff of disapproval.

That’s new.

Yet, always the oblivious girl that you are, you continued what he is about to do instead and told him ‘If your highness try not to wound himself often, I’ll consider it’ then amidst the falling snow and the cold stare of your father, the kiss you placed on his cheek and your warmth that stayed on his coat with tears already mended superseded all of his worries.

It only occurred to Sylus as he followed you to the kitchens that it was the first time you did that in front of your father.

“I can beat up the prince for you, old man.”

“My daughter- Too naive-,” your father sighed, then turned to the one who spoke, a rabbit hybrid (The little girl you and your father picked up while you travelled to the northern regions of Ursus, now in her teens), “And you- Too rowdy-”

“Rowdy enough to punch his face just in case he breaks big sister’s heart.”

The war hero did not comment any further.

After all, he is still yet to declare his support to the young dragon’s cause and-

-He has not seen enough if this estranged prince indeed cares for you or if he is just like the bourgeois he had left behind in the capital.

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Author's Note:  Big shoutout to @cygnuusss and to my friends for enabling me to write this. Once I am done writing the side story for Luke and Kieran, I will most likely move to this but for now, I'll probably keep posting these drabbles here and there. As always happy to share this with everyone here.

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Rudolf Koppitz • Movement Study, 1925

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if it sucks hit da bricks <- litany against sunk cost

take it easy but take it <- litany against burnout/apathy cycle

fuck it we ball <- litany against perfectionism

now say something beautiful and true <- litany against irony poisoning

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just a heads up for fancy rocks enjoyers like myself who do not enjoy being bamboozled: "cherry quartz" is fake. it is a synthetic mineral created by amalgamating cinnnabar and regular quartz. "watermelon quartz" is also fake. "watermelon stone" is fake, but im not sure if its something different than watermelon quartz or not. "strawberry quartz" seems to be real in of itself but im not sure how much of the avalable stuff on the market came out of the ground. "watermelon tourmaline" is real, which is confusing. opalite is REALLY fake. if a rock claiming to be "opal" is suspiciously cheap or has a regular, organized-looking pattern of shiny flecks, it's a fake opal made in a lab. almost every agate that is a bright, saturated color has been dyed. most citrine on the market is real quartz, but has been made to turn yellow by heating up amethyst.

how much you care about any of this stuff is your business, and liking synthetic stones isnt bad or wrong, in fact in most cases i think one could make the argument it's pretty ethical. it's just bullshit that the gem industry constantly tries to trick people into thinking shit like "aura quartz" is a naturally-occurring mineral

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do you ever draw something for yourself that’s so deliciously self-indulgent that you just sit there like

[Image ID: 2 digital drawings of a short-haired person drawing on a tablet. In the first image they are looking at the screen and blushing pink. In the second image they are looking away from the screen and blushing more heavily, with the caption “…is this allowed?”. End ID]

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🍔

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A thin line of table salt adorned the floor in front of your bedroom. You stood behind it and stared at the demons outside of your doorway. They were staring at the salt.

Leviathan laughed. It reminded him of a low-level defense from a tower defense game. "Is that supposed to keep us out? lol."

"Yeah. I think it's working," you said.

Satan put a hand on his hip. As far as he could tell, it was plain old table salt. No magical properties whatsoever. "How so?"

"Well, none of you are crossing it. Clearly, it's having some kind of effect."

Mammon balked. "Obviously, it's because we're respectin' your privacy!" He stood closest to the line, wanting to cross it most of all.

"You're respecting my privacy by... standing right outside my door?"

Mammon opened his mouth to counter, only to come up with nothing. He stood there with his fists clenched. The feather on his belt swayed as he tapped a foot impatiently, causing the nearest salt to shift a little.

The noise annoyed Asmodeus. "Mammon, go walk through the salt."

"Why me!?"

"This is ridiculous." Lucifer crossed his arms. "Clean this up. I don't even want to know how this will damage the floors if you leave it."

"It's not even doing anything," Satan pointed out.

"If it's not doing anything, then one of you should cross it," you suggested.

"Why don't you come out to us?" Belphegor proposed. "There's only one of you, seems more fair."

"Yeah!" Asmodeus took a step away from the salt, careful not to get any on his shoes, and raised his hands. "You can run into my arms if you'd like. I'll be sure to catch you."

Their stubbornness astounded you. "Or... You guys can just admit you don't want to cross this salt."

"It's regular salt." Beelzebub knew exactly what the substance was as soon as he laid eyes on it. Plus, the smell was unmistakable. His claim was irrefutable.

"Yes, exactly. Thank you, Beel. I've seen you eat it many times." You had even taken the bag from the shared kitchen.

"Did you try walking over it?" Leviathan asked. "How are we supposed to cross it if you won't?"

"I don't need to. I'm in my room."

"You should come to our room," Belphegor offered. He was getting tired of standing around.

"Come out this instant," Lucifer ordered.

You thought about it for a whopping two seconds. "I think I'm good. I'll be in my room. If any of you need me, feel free to come in."

You retreated back inside with the rest of the half-empty salt bag. The brothers stared at you with a mix of impatience and disbelief until the wall blocked you from view.

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ao3 is crazy because you'll read the most gut-wrenching 200k word slowburn that leaves you sobbing into your sweater at four in the morning and the author will be applejacksmonstercock

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westerners really have internalized the belief that all interactions between different nations on a governmental level are a total zero-sum game huh? And that That's the reason why US/EU involvement in Africa is exploitation. Because it's impossible for the US/EU to be uniquely bad (because that's "usamerican exceptionalism) so actually ALL economic partnership, ALL diplomacy, ALL develpment programs are imperialism and exploitation, and Africans are wholly incapable of mutually beneficial partnerships with non-Africans

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So… I got a notification from the State Department at like 8 PM Pacific that my passport was approved, and I was quietly thankful and stunned bc my legal gender in Oregon is listed as X, or undeclared, and that's what's on my passport. I'm pretty sure someone(s) worked late to get the X passports done today.

I was already really grateful to whoever in the Seattle Passport Office worked late to get these things processed on the last Friday before That Man gets back into office... and then I got a notification that my passport shipped at fucking midnight Pacific and whoever got that shit out the door so it couldn't be picked up on Monday and like, denied and shredded?

They're my fucking hero.

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i miss kaeya i hope he's drinking responsibly (jk i know he does)

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I want you to remember:

The fascists hate you too and they just will pretend otherwise until after they've killed the rest of us, before they turn on you.

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Tacoma, Washington. (July 2020)

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I like how there’s a category of careers (cowboy, pirate, spy, princess) that have a very specific historical and political context that they get stripped of for the entertainment of children