#HOW DO WE FEEL?

[pistachi0art]

Evie 🔄 Tommy.

[balladofthe101st]

hey, fellas, how do we feel about buck and bucky being the modern literally parallels of orpheus and eurydice?????? but in this version of the story, eurydice escapes and comes back to orpheus. how do we feel???? how do we feel????

[plumbobtv]

Episode 08 - Shocking Behavior…

[some-of-us-watch-the-sunset-too]

Part one of my book/Story!

(unnamed so far)

A/N: i’ve been feeling super unmotivated to write about the outsiders lately so i figured i’d share what i’m working on in my free time! i started writing this during the lockdown in 2020 (god that feels like a lifetime ago) but i gave up on it before i could finish because i really had no clue where i was going with it. but i came back to it when i had some free time a few months ago because i couldn’t get the main characters out of my head, i felt like i just had to tell this story. so here i am! sorry this is such a boring looking post and i don’t expect it to get many likes- but let me know what you think!

Basic plot: the year is 1926 in post-war France. two strangers come across a murder scene one night but once they call for help any trace of the crime has disappeared. they must take it upon themselves to investigate these murders, and maybe learn not just secrets about the case, but some about themselves too. (i suck at writing summaries like this it’s basically a murder mystery that’s super gay too)

As I walked home I was pulled out of my thoughts by a chilling scream. I looked up to see a large figure standing over a man. He held a knife in his left hand. A crimson liquid splattered the walls of the alleyway and there was a pool growing around the body. I went to dive behind a stack of large crates but the figure spotted me. I choked out what sounded like a squeak. I couldn't scream, I didn't dare utter a word. I couldn't move even if I wanted to. It felt as though my bones had turned to lead. All The man did was put a finger to his lips to shush me and a moment later he climbed up a ladder onto the roof of a nearby building with such speed that for a fleeting moment I doubted if I had ever seen him in the first place.

I stood there motionless until yet another man stepped out from behind a bin at the other side of the alley. I came back to reality and pulled a knife out of my pocket. I held it up in a defensive position. I had thought the man may have been an accomplice until he ran for the body. He dropped to his knees. He desperately felt for a pulse, sighed and closed his eyes. “Dead. Nobody could have survived that much blood loss.” I didn't dare to lower my blade “who are you. What are you doing here?” The man got to his feet slowly and put his hands up. “I’m Louis, Louis De la Cour.” The man spoke in a quiet, trembling voice. “Please don’t hurt me. I’m nothing but a man trying to get home.” Even in the low light of the alley I could tell that the man, Louis, was smaller than me. I noted that he had ash blond hair. Suddenly, the reality of the situation hit me like a wave, my knife fell to the ground with a clatter. “What the hell is happening? That man is dead! What are we going to do?”I felt like there was a weight on my chest. I couldn't breathe. I looked at Louis, his expression was stony. “We need to get a police officer. We can both go back from where we came and see if we can find someone. If you do not find anyone, come back here in three minutes.”

We shook hands and walked away. What was happening? There was a dead man in that alleyway. If someone had seen us…we could be thought of as accomplices. We could be killed just because we were in the wrong place at the wrong time. I walked at a brisk pace with my hands in the pockets of my trousers. I found a police officer easily since we were quite close to the louvre. There were always officers around that area to try to ward off anyone with the intent to steal the art kept there. I explained what happened once I caught his attention. I still felt as though I couldn't breathe and I was aware of everything happening around me. I was aware of every person walking, each voice talking in hushed whispers and I was aware of every leaf falling from the trees in the late autumn breeze. Once I had finished recounting the events I witnessed the officer demanded I bring him to the scene of the crime. We walked in silence to the alley. I relaxed a little when I noticed Louis standing at the other end again. We both looked down to where the body lay, well- where the body once lay. it wasn’t there anymore?? “Boys? I thought you said there was a murder. well where is it?” The officer was visibly angry. I felt my face get red and I stayed silent. I hated to seem like a fool. The other officer added “go home boys. There’s no corpse here. No sign of a crime. I’ll remind you, making false claims is a punishable offence.” Louis clenched his jaw and spoke up. “I assure you sir, there was a body there. We stood on either side of the alley, there was blood everywhere. I saw it with my own eyes” he kept his voice very matter-of-fact yet he commanded attention. He had a presence. It caught me off guard how this small man could make anyone focus on him just by speaking.

The two policemen walked away, once they turned the corner, Émile and Louis heard one of them laugh and say ‘Stupid youths. They must have had too much to drink!’ The other replied with a monstrous laugh. Louis looked at me and said flatly ‘I need a drink.’ I replied with a simple. ‘Me too.’ With that we walked off in silence to find the nearest bar.

i am looking for any feedback on this so if you have any opinions/questions please either send it in my asks or dm me! i’m super excited to be working on this and i hope you are as excited to read it!

[xocasper]

are we against homie hopping here or…

[that-sarcastic-writer]

I was watching ufc the other night and omgg I thought of underground mma!ghost, reader wraps his fists before every fight and she rides him slow as a reward for winning his fight. Im😩

[dirtytransmasc]

the men and boys are innocent too.

we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.

I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.

I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.

I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.

I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.

the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.

[inkskinned]

because sometimes there are invisible tests and invisible rules and you're just supposed to ... know the rule. someone you thought of as a friend asks you for book recommendations, so you give her a list of like 30 books, each with a brief blurb and why you like it. later, you find out she screenshotted the list and send it out to a group chat with the note: what an absolute freak can you believe this. you saw the responses: emojis where people are rolling over laughing. too much and obsessive and actually kind of creepy in the comments. you thought you'd been doing the right thing. she'd asked, right? an invisible rule: this is what happens when you get too excited.

you aren't supposed to laugh at your own jokes, so you don't, but then you're too serious. you're not supposed to be too loud, but then people say you're too quiet. you aren't supposed to get passionate about things, but then you're shy, boring. you aren't supposed to talk too much, but then people are mad when you're not good at replying.

you fold yourself into a prettier paper crane. since you never know what is "selfish" and what is "charity," you give yourself over, fully. you'd rather be empty and over-generous - you'd rather eat your own boundaries than have even one person believe that you're mean. since you don't know what the thing is that will make them hate you, you simply scrub yourself clean of any form of roughness. if you are perfect and smiling and funny, they can love you. if you are always there for them and never admit what's happening and never mention your past and never make them uncomfortable - you can make up for it. you can earn it.

don't fuck up. they're all testing you, always. they're tolerating you. whatever secret club happened, over a summer somewhere - during some activity you didn't get to attend - everyone else just... figured it out. like they got some kind of award or examination that allowed them to know how-to-be-normal. how to fit. and for the rest of your life, you've been playing catch-up. you've been trying to prove that - haha! you get it! that the joke they're telling, the people they are, the manual they got- yeah, you've totally read it.

if you can just divide yourself in two - the lovable one, and the one that is you - you can do this. you can walk the line. they can laugh and accept you. if you are always-balanced, never burdensome, a delight to have in class, champagne and glittering and never gawky or florescent or god-forbid cringe: you can get away with it.

you stare at your therapist, whom you can make jokes with, and who laughs at your jokes, because you are so fucking good at people-pleasing. you smile at her, and she asks you how you're doing, and you automatically say i'm good, thanks, how are you? while the answer swims somewhere in your little lizard brain:

how long have you been doing this now? mastering the art of your body and mind like you're piloting a puppet. has it worked? what do you mean that all you feel is... just exhausted. pick yourself up, the tightrope has no net. after all, you're cheating, somehow, but nobody seems to know you actually flunked the test. it's working!

aren't you happy yet?

[bacchuschucklefuck]

couldnt draw my thang for mid-autumn so treated myself to a calne redesign instead

[eatingmarkerz]

happy birthday undertale!!!!! :3

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[plumbobtv]

Episode 14 - The Reunion (part 2)

[gretavangroove]

new christmas theme for the profile🫣

[bumblebeebats]

As much as i love Dungeon Meshi, i do think that given Ryoko Kui's attention to realistic worldbuilding there ought to be a companion series called Dishes Meshi where they spend 2hrs washing and drying and packing away. Alll the goddamnfuck dishes they just made

[voltaical-art]

do you guys ever think about how Wyll is introduced as an archetypal fantasy hero, but then it turns out he’s a warlock, who made a pact with a devil. Do you ever think about how Ansur is described as this fantastical dragon of myth, but then when you find him, he’s turned into an undead monstrosity. Do you think about how when Wyll does the right thing, he is punished to become more monstrous. Do you think about how as Wyll’s warlock powers grow, his spells get more horrific. Do you think about how Ansur was killed by his closest friend. Do think about how Wyll was cast out by the most important person in his life. do you guys ever think about Ansur and Wyll.