#I like the polls they’re fun

[feverdreamsandlucidnightmares]

Is a dirty chai latte not a normal drink? Two people have asked me what it was in the last week??

[sunnibits]

hi, curious question for any hijabis/muslims out there!! as a big tiefling fan I’ve been musing a lot on the concept of hijabi tieflings because aesthetically I’m obsessed with the mental image, but I was wondering if u could help me decide on something! :O

I’m also curious on how tails would work when it comes to modesty…. would they just have to stay hidden under skirts?? idk but I’m genuinely really interested in hearing any thoughts on this!!

[headfullof-ideas]

It looks like Kai was a majority vote for Fontaine, and as more people ended up voting for Jackson after I thought they were done with him, his results have changed to a solid fifty-fifty on Ant and Fontaine.

Next up is Sammy! She’s the seventh kid in the lineup, and the fourth ‘pirate’ overall

[playbarbies]

🛸.˚✧₊˚ eeeee here she is !!!! her name is lenore angello — her age is verse dependent but she was born february 14th. the full backstory of the abduction is tucked in all nice and cozy underneath the read more!! ( since it’s quite lengthy aah )

ミ★ 𝐚 𝐧𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 𝐭𝐨 𝐝𝐢𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 :

a group of childhood best friends celebrate the final night of their last summer together before they go their separate ways for college. they’re in a pink convertible with the roof down, the warm summer air carrying their off-key singing as the radio blares over the whipping wind. it’s one of those perfect nights—carefree and full of hopeful possibilities.

one of her friends points toward the horizon, her voice cutting through the laughter. “ anyone see those weird lights? what even are those? ”

“ totally a ufo , ” another quips jokingly, not even looking up from her phone.

but the lights grow brighter. larger. too close. a low, mechanical hum vibrates through the air, raising the fine hairs on lenore’s arms. the laughter fades as the lights begin to pulse, their glow staining the clouds an eerie yellow. the driver floors it, tires screeching on the dirt and gravel of the country road, but the lights follow, impossibly fast. the hum turns into a roar.

within a blink of an eye they’re engulfed in a pale yellow beam of light. someone shouts, “ JUMP! ” and everyone scrambles to leap over the doors of the convertible, but it’s fruitless as they too begin to float. gravity loses its hold, and one by one, they are lifted—weightless, helpless — into the void.

ミ★ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐛𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 :

the next thing lenore remembers is the cold, metallic surface beneath her back and the sickly green glow of the alien laboratory. her friends’ muffled screams echoed in the distance, punctuated by the clink of instruments and the guttural clicks of alien voices communicating in a frequency of hums and growls.

the experiments began quickly, efficiently. her body was no longer her own—reduced to a test subject to measure pain, endurance, and anatomy. a scalpel traced her skin with mechanical precision, leaving an x-shaped scar across her chest. another cut spiraled from the base of her neck, curling down her side toward her ribs. lenore could hear her friends screaming for her, and she screamed for her friends long after the taste of copper coated her tongue, long after her friends' cries fell silent as snowfall, long after she was the only one left to scream.

ミ★ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐞𝐬𝐜𝐚𝐩𝐞 :

she wasn’t sure how long she lay on that table, her body aching, her spirit frayed, her body stitched back together with surgical precision. but when the lead alien turned his back and carelessly left a scalpel within reach, something primal surged within her. it wasn’t hope — that had been cut out of her the way the sample of her organ was. no, it was survival.

her hand trembled as she slid the scalpel closer, the restraints biting into her wrists. with quick, frantic motions, she began sawing through the straps, her heart hammering against her ribs. she stole frantic, desperate glances at the alien, praying they wouldn’t notice. when the final strap snapped, she didn’t hesitate.

lenore lunged. the scalpel drove into the base of the alien’s neck with a wet crunch! its body crumpling to the floor. she scavenged the tools from its belt and stumbled toward the cockpit, where another alien blocked her path. they fought in the narrow space, limbs colliding, gangly fingers tearing at her skin. lenore’s hand found a switch, and suddenly the spacecraft careened downward, spinning out of control.

the crash was violent. metal screamed in anguish as the ufo tore into the earth, sending lenore tumbling through the wreckage. she crawled from the crumpled husk, her body trembling, her vision blurred. the night was eerily quiet now, the only sounds her ragged breaths and pounding heart.

ミ★ 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐚𝐟𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐡 :

she ran. she didn’t know where — just away from the wreckage, away from the memories. her friends’ voices echoed in her ears, their screams pounding with every thud-thud-thud of her mourning heart.

lenore collapsed in a field, the stars mocking her from above. she was alone. utterly and completely alone.

. . .

. . . wasn’t she?

[runandhideguys]

that new thing where usamericans have started using more cockney adjacent accents to imitate british ppl they don’t like is kinda… idk it feels off,, esp when they’re using slang that’s attributed more to working class people. like what happened to making fun of posh people 🤨 i promise you boris johnson and jk rowling are not the ones saying bruv or innit

[fisheadz]

It’s that time again! I’m being indecisive about something!

I’ve written them down already, but they just seem a bit janky with the writing. I could maybe make them sound smoother, but idk.

[dragonagepolls]

Okkkkkk and the “Who is the most mentally UNstable” polls have been deleted

[thecoffeetragedy]

Okay, so I totally changed my idea for my work Holiday sweater contest. I’m making these cute felt patches - they’re so much fun to make!! Now either I play it safe and use this old green sweater I have (classic, comfy, on theme, I never wear that sweater anyway), or I take a risk with my old denim jacket (original, more my personal style, maybe not on theme, I still wear that jacket though I should probably get a new one)

also I have a few selection of earrings I’d probably wear the cute ornament ones with the sweater and the ugly sweater ones with the denim jacket.

[simple-persica]

Ok…I know I’m a bit all over the place with posting but something just occurred to me…

Here’s what I mean: Original Post

[lesbianworlock]

Lmfaoooooo my tags on that chicken tender post got the person I reblogged it from mad and they literally reposted it with a screenshot of my tags saying I was mad they didn’t have ketchup for my chicken tenders and that they could eat lamb biryani, and then made a whole separate post about how you’d drop a date that got chicken tenders off to go smoke weed and watch jerma highlights!!! SCREAM

[snoopy-natural]

this new poll tournament is gonna tear apart entire families

[skipppppy]

No offence but I feel like some people got a little too comfortable with telling people to touch grass and swung all the way round to just straight up shaming anyone who might have a less active social life than them to feel better about themselves. “She should be at the club” was a really funny meme until people started acting like fucking middle school bullies towards people who don’t go out with their friends a lot. All those drinking/drugs/sex milestone polls were fun to engage with until it became a wierd circlejerk making fun of people who haven’t done those things before. People on twitter are once again dogpiling someone for wanting queer social spaces that don’t revolve around alcohol or loud music and telling them it’s their own fault for not having friends.

Like I get that nightclubs and sex have strong ties to queer culture and are often the first targets in the hellscape of respectability politics. It’s important we remember our roots and protect these spaces from conservative scrutiny. I mean that. They are important. But just on a surface level it seems like people are starting to see having an inactive social life as some kind of moral failing which…it’s not. I feel like an insane person for feeling like I have to say this on the fucking queer autism website but like. You aren’t inherently a bad person if you don’t have friends. You aren’t “falling behind” if you haven’t had your first kiss in your 20s or never done drugs. The real world isn’t a movie. And if you see someone who doesn’t go out much and instinctually think “wow what a terminally online loser. I bet their social life sucks because they’re a sheltered creep and not because of systemic barriers beyond their control” you need to have a long hard look at why you feel that way.

There are very real barriers that prevent isolated people from finding community and connection. Do you think you’re superior for being able to breach them? Time, money, sobriety, accessibility, none of those factors were a problem for you, so it shouldn’t be for them, right? Right?