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yeah i'm wlw (wench loving wench)

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credit

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Tramell Tillman moves from the Severed Floor “into the Black Victorian era” for the Met Gala 2025 // GQ Magazine (2025)

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what if we cuddled for so long we were both warm and we smelled like each other, what's next?

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““Good job, Lavina, darling. And remember, too, Lavina, the times we let you be a little girl. When she was a little girl in Palmyra, Illinois, being the youngest of a large family, she was expected to leave a note in the kitchen saying where she had gone after school. One day the note that was found said ‘I have gone where I have decided.’ We loved you. We love you We will always love you. We will meet again.””

— Kurt Vonnegut at the funeral of his friend.

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Get warm with papa

(For context this is a male rescue cat who climbed into an incubator full of orphaned kittens and went mine now)

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Even anteaters have fun...

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Airstream x Cactus

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Y’all keep asking me if my dad is some kinda super mega dilf and the answer is no, he’s not. He looks like every other 50 something white guy in a Home Depot.

I also won’t be posting pics of him because he has expressed his discomfort at that.

You can, however, have this video of him doing some sort of spontaneous bit with a kookaburra

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My daughter. Maximal water damage. (gouache) When we had to vacate the caravan due to storm Éowyn, I saw this beautiful concrete wall with a nebula nestled inside... [ID: a gouache painting of a damaged and stained concrete wall, with plants growing in front of it. The water damage on the concrete is stylized to look like a nebula with stars.]

This will be my postcard print for May. Join my postcard club on Patreon if you'd like this mini print in the mail - link in my pinned post!!

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important message from the official broadcast home of the new york yankees:

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hey i saw you across the room at the devil's sacrament and loved your vibe

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I took a 6yo boy to his placement and as soon as I got him situated in the back he saw my SpongeBob driver’s license air freshener hanging on my rearview mirror. He asked if that’s really SpongeBob’s driver’s license and I said yeah it’s real. Then he asked where I got it if SpongeBob’s underwater so I told him I wore a helmet like Sandy and stole it from SpongeBob when he slept, and without missing a beat he goes “That’s identity fraud”

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next time you get in an argument with a brain in a jar you can just tell it you dont have to listen to someone that's legally considered a soup

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next time you get in an argument with a brain in a jar you can just tell it you dont have to listen to someone that's legally considered a soup

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Rose the bard & Briar the rogue fled the town on stolen horses. Behind them, the flames turned the horizon a dusky pink that would have felt cosy if not for the alarm bells and distant yells.

“What do you think you’re going to name your horse?” asked Briar, “I think I’m going to call this one ‘Sweetgrass’. It’s short for ‘Sweetgrass Swaying Softly in the Meadow.’ He seems like he’s a gentle soul.”

“Asshole.” Rose somehow managed to keep one eye on the road while also glaring daggers at Briar.

“You’re gonna call the horse ‘asshole’? It’s certainly... memorable.”

“Yeah. It’s short for ‘Briar is An Incurable Asshole Who We All Hate’.”

“Is that from a poem? I think I know that one...”

Rose swore under her breath. Then she swore over her breath. For good measure, she swore a little bit in the middle of her breath too.

“Dang, Rose.” Briar let out an impressed whistle. “I haven’t been cursed at like that since we stole the Sin Cypher from the Church of the Twice-Righteous Truth. You mad at me or something?”

Rose swallowed her response. There was bile in her throat. After a moment, she simply said, “I hate it when you get like this.”

Briar’s brow furrowed. This didn’t fit the usual post-caper banter. There was a pattern to moments like this, a poetry of mischief and mayhem by which Briar and Rose let the world know who was really in charge.

“Get like what?” Briar tried to lever the world back into the right shape. “The only thing I’m getting is ‘away with it’.”

“Your actions have consequences, Briar. The head of that guild is powerful and he is serious. He’s going to send assassins after us.”

“I think you mean ‘he’s going to provide us with an enrichment opportunity’.” This was more like it. “I’d say the pros outweigh the cons of these quences.”

“...I don’t want to die, Briar.”

“I- I don’t want you to die, either.” Briar felt a knot of pain begin to tangle in their head. Gods, but they hated sincerity. “I don’t want either of us to die.”

“Then why are you like this? I swear, every time we come across a dangerous evil dickhead, something just… takes you over. You get this awful grin on your face and it’s like you think if you smile wide enough, the grin will swallow the world.”

Briar sighed. Rose was staring at them with eyes wide as skies and heavy as storms. Briar let the mask slide off their face.

The mask underneath was, of course, also grinning. But it was different, where the first grin was a mouth full of knives, this one was lines weathered in a mountain.

“I promise, Rose. I want to live. I do.” Briar swallowed a breath of burning air. “But I want to live *tested*. I want to live despite the world’s best efforts. I want people to throw blades and arrows and hatred at me, and I want to surprise myself when I discover I can survive it. I want to give the finger to the world’s malevolence.”

“But. Why.”

“I guess...” Briar’s eyes were wide and scared. The grin still etched on their face. “I just know I need to know which is more the monster. Which is more wicked. Me or everything else. Me or the world.”

“Briar. It’s… it’s the world. You know that right? The world wins that fight. You are not the most wicked thing in all creation.”

“Maybe not. But, y’know, we all need a goal.”

---

With thanks to the Ko-Fi supporter who submitted the word "consequences" to the Word of the Month club.

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