#I need to think about it lol

[perelka-l]

When you both are in a shitty situation and can't even get up and are waiting for someone to arrive (whoever it is, really) and one of you has cigs and other access to fire so you just. Kinda chill for a moment. Like, it's just once, it should be fine, you can forget about it later.

[wuntrum]

the brushes you use for digital art dont Actually matter that much and its more about core art principles and technique or whatever. but maybe this next brush will be the one

[sunbloomdew]

do you ever see a person and you are overcome with incredible fondness? and you just think "oh." but not in a romantic or sexual way you are just filled with warmth and it makes you happy, it just does. and you think "i'm so happy you exist. i'm happy you are somewhere out there in the world, doing your thing". it's love but also not entirely

like people are lovely and i feel it in my entire chest like a burning candle that smells like roses and a sunny day

[benevolenterrancy]

poor Liu Qingge is really going through it in the succubus extra, he just had to go and get a crush on the most oblivious man alive

"Younger than me... we had a rocky start... completely devoted.... often together.... saved each other..... peerless beauty..... outstanding talent.... noble blood.... totally in love with me...... Wow what a weird love fortune! Definitely doesn't match anyone in my life!" says Shen Qingqiu while actively sitting next to one of the two men it perfectly describes

[idolomantises]

Man is it just me or are a lot of TV shows nowadays are written to have big emotional episodes in scenes with very little build up.

[phereshift]

personal opinion but. the reason tiktok’s ‘zepotha’ isn’t doing great isn’t because of a lack of cohesion or poor reasoning behind it (although I’m sure these would’ve contributed). It’s because when I was first introduced to Zepotha it was as a fake movie concept. And when I was first introduced to Goncharov it was as me spending the entire morning trying to figure out why Tumblr was obsessed with some random movie.

[freshfrenchtoast]

Kageyama's backstory only being revealed near the very end of the series is really interesting from a meta perspective.

For reference, his chapter is 387 out of 402. That's 96% of the way in.

To contrast, other characters like Tsukishima and Yamaguchi's backstories are shown in Chapters 87-88.

Now, we do get the explanation for his "King of the Court" title in Chapter 6, at the start of the series, but we don't see how he got to that point, or why he started playing volleyball in the first place like Tsukishima's and Yamaguchi's stories show.

It creates this situation where, despite being the deuteragonist, the character our protagonist, Hinata, is practically glued to the entire series, we barely know anything about him.

We don't even know he has a sister until that point whereas other characters' siblings like Natsu, Saeko, Akiteru, Alisa have all made appearances way before then. Even Oikawa's sister, though we don't see her, we at least know she exists because of Takeru.

He's both closed off to us (the audience) as well as the other characters in the series, and this results in them finding him rude or disliking his character in general (see: the "Kageyama is abusive" discourse that somehow keeps popping up even now).

Chapter 387 takes place in 2018 and was published in 2020 so it takes him 6 years of in-universe time and 8 years of irl time to really open up.

And the catalyst for all of this is Hinata fulfilling his promise of beating him.

You see, another thing to note is that, whenever Hinata thinks of Kageyama, he's always looking at him from behind.

His internal image of him is someone who's always up ahead, someone he needs to catch up to, meaning Hinata can only see one side of him, he cannot see all of Kageyama until he catches up and passes him.

Which he finally does here.

In this shot Hinata is finally the one who's looking back at Kageyama. At this moment, Hinata (and by extension the audience) can see him for all he is, can see how he was just a lonely boy who's been waiting for someone to meet him where he is, to keep running alongside him and not quit the race.

Someone he doesn't have to go easy on. Someone who would actually tell him to hurry up instead of slow down for a change.

His someone better.

[choccy-milky]

💖🎊the end, & thank you for reading!!🎊💖

im so thankful for all the support i got on this story, and i wouldn't have finished it if not for all of you, and for the love i got for seb and clora. so thank you again for giving me the motivation to write this 600k+ monster, and to see it through to the very end. LOVE YALL💖🫶 (ao3/wattpad)

[soosoosoup]

Funk branch au

Au and branch design by @bbc-trolls

[pokeberry5]

girl experiences gender euphoria and is immediately slammed by grief

for @litttlittt <3. this was supposed to be a portrait of caroline hill, but litta mentioned tim looking like janet when dressed as caroline and identity issues and angst and things spiraled

something about tim not knowing if he's his mother's child or bruce's or neither's.

figuring out the looks:

i wanted janet to have that poofy 70s hair

[the-woman-upstairs]

Really fucked up that, when they’re young, Patrick and Art are SO tactile with each other, so comfortable sharing the same space. Art lets Patrick touch him and move him and physically overwhelm him and easily acquiesces to it, if not outright enjoys it.

Then in the present, they’ve been so far out of each other’s orbit for so long, held such animosity that when they have their moment alone in the sauna, Art physically recoils from Patrick’s close proximity! It’s so painful to watch because even as Patrick’s goading him, it’s so obvious he wants to be able to get back into Art’s space. But Art has erected all these walls around himself, he refuses to give Patrick an inch or even admit to missing how close they used to be!

AND THEN we see Art and Tashi later and he wants her to hold him, to be gentle with him, and just TOUCH him. Like, he does miss that kind of close physical contact! He either doesn’t know how to ask for it or is uncomfortable being that openly vulnerable. Worth noting that he pretty much always defers to Tashi in regard to initiating physical intimacy (with their first kiss, though he does state his desire, SHE has to be the one to make the first move). And it seems pretty obvious that Tashi herself isn’t comfortable providing that intimacy, whereas Patrick actively seeks to provide it (the hug/forehead kiss after their win together in the early years, dragging the stool closer to him).

Art has tried very hard to act like he doesn’t need physical affection and even though his discipline and devotion to Tashi has made him a stronger tennis player, it’s made him a hollow person, which, in turn, has kept him from becoming a GREAT tennis player.

All of this, of course, is why the ending hits so damn hard.

[bixels]

tarpit site.

[conspicuous-clown-car]

woagh beastars reference

[eddiesghxst]

eddie throwing his back out giving you everything he has and ofc it hurts like a bitch the next day and he wants you again and again and again

🫶

ITS GIVING OLDER EDDIE HELLO

18+ — MINORS DNI

————

the next morning eddie’s making breakfast and he dramatically groans whenever he reaches up to grab something from the cabinets until you finally crack and ask, “what’s wrong, baby?”

he just jokingly glares at you and goes, “you destroyed my back, that’s what’s wrong. the last time i had this much sex was in my twenties, i’m not equipped for this.” he grumbles, reaching back to rub at his lower back.

you roll your eyes, stepping forward to slink your hands around his waist, pressing your body up against his back and kissing the bare skin between his shoulders, “for what it’s worth, even though you’ve got a shitty back, your refractory period makes up for it,” you joke, patting his stomach and kissing his back once again, pressing a smile into his skin when he grunts in response.

“don’t have much of a choice, do i? i’ve got a succubus for a girlfriend.”

you hum, “that’s weird, last i remember it was you asking for one more round, wasn’t it?”

you stretch onto the tips of your toes to rest your chin against his shoulder to peer down at his skilled hands hard at work preparing your meal, and eddie doesn’t bother glancing at you as he responds, “not sure, things start to blur after the third big-O.”

you hum as a teasing smile spreads across his lips, “whatever you say, big guy.” you playfully nip at his shoulder and he hisses, batting you away as you giggle, turning to lean against the counter beside him so you’re facing him, “when you’re done with this, come and i’ll give you a massage for your achey old man back, hm?”

eddie glances away from his task to look at you, “that pretty little mouth of yours is gonna get you in trouble.”

you tilt your head with a sly grin, voice smooth and sultry as you speak, “is that a threat, musnon?”

eddie let’s out an exasperated noise and looks at you with narrowed eyes, “can a man cook in peace, please? or at least without you trying to get in my pants like i’m some harlot,”

you raise your eyebrows and motion down to his crotch, the unmistakable print of his hardening length pressing against the seam of his sweatpants, “seems like he enjoys it.”

eddie playfully shoves you away then, muttering for you to get out of the kitchen and you giggle, yelping when he swats at your behind, “ow! what was that for?” you whine, rubbing at your sore cheek. eddie grins, dicing a few onions and dropping them onto the stove, “for being such a goddamn minx. get out of here before i accidentally set this house on fire.”

and even though his back hurts like hell, he still ends up drilling your shit, but you have to take over midway because eddie’s poor back really might just croak on him and he swears if that happens, you’re paying for his medical bill <3

[archiepelago]

alternate surface au inspired by a few ive seen around on tumblr :3

[inkskinned]

at some point it's just like. do they even fucking like the thing they're asking AI to make? "oh we'll just use AI for all the scripts" "we'll just use AI for art" "no worries AI can write this book" "oh, AI could easily design this"

like... it's so clear they've never stood in the middle of an art museum and felt like crying, looking at a piece that somehow cuts into your marrow even though the artist and you are separated by space and time. they've never looked at a poem - once, twice, three times - just because the words feel like a fired gun, something too-close, clanging behind your eyes. they've never gotten to the end of the movie and had to arrive, blinking, back into their body, laughing a little because they were holding their breath without realizing.

"oh AI can mimic style" "AI can mimic emotion" "AI can mimic you and your job is almost gone, kid."

... how do i explain to you - you can make AI that does a perfect job of imitating me. you could disseminate it through the entire world and make so much money, using my works and my ideas and my everything.

and i'd still keep writing.

i don't know there's a word for it. in high school, we become aware that the way we feel about our artform is a cliche - it's like breathing. over and over, artists all feel the same thing. "i write because i need to" and "my music is how i speak" and "i make art because it's either that or i stop existing." it is such a common experience, the violence and immediacy we mean behind it is like breathing to me - comes out like a useless understatement. it's a cliche because we all feel it, not because the experience isn't actually persistent. so many of us have this ... fluttering urgency behind our ribs.

i'm not doing it for the money. for a star on the ground in some city i've never visited. i am doing it because when i was seven i started taking notebooks with me on walks. i am doing it because in second grade i wrote a poem and stood up in front of my whole class to read it out while i shook with nerves. i am doing it because i spent high school scribbling all my feelings down. i am doing it for the 16 year old me and the 18 year old me and the today-me, how we can never put the pen down. you can take me down to a subatomic layer, eviscerate me - and never find the source of it; it is of me. when i was 19 i named this blog inkskinned because i was dramatic and lonely and it felt like the only thing that was actually permanently-true about me was that this is what is inside of me, that the words come up over everything, coat everything, bloom their little twilight arias into every nook and corner and alley

"we're gonna replace you". that is okay. you think that i am writing to fill a space. that someone said JOB OPENING: Writer Needed, and i wrote to answer. you think one raindrop replaces another, and i think they're both just falling. you think art has a place, that is simply arrives on walls when it is needed, that is only ever on demand, perfect, easily requested. you see "audience spending" and "marketability" and "multi-line merch opportunity"

and i see a kid drowning. i am writing to make her a boat. i am writing because what used to be a river raft has long become a fully-rigged ship. i am writing because you can fucking rip this out of my cold dead clammy hands and i will still come back as a ghost and i will still be penning poems about it.

it isn't even love. the word we use the most i think is "passion". devotion, obsession, necessity. my favorite little fact about the magic of artists - "abracadabra" means i create as i speak. we make because it sluices out of us. because we look down and our hands are somehow already busy. because it was the first thing we knew and it is our backbone and heartbreak and everything. because we have given up well-paying jobs and a "real life" and the approval of our parents. we create because - the cliche again. it's like breathing. we create because we must.

you create because you're greedy.