#I was required to do it /j

[breathofthewildyaverage]

Yippee he’s done

Golden Wolf from twilight princess

[gayofthefae]

Queer ships are universally different and not comparable to straight ships in ship wars because without the ship/feelings/reciprocation all characters involved would still be queer because their queerness exists and is represented in them independently from specific romantic feelings and that queerness would still deeply affect their characters' relationships to themselves.

Queer ships are not the same as straight ships because queer ships are inherently indicative of something deeper in the individual that is affects their character arc to the core and straight ships are love stories.

Basically, the queer experience and the straight experience are not the same. I feel like people should know this, and I feel like people do, so I assume they just don't realize that that's what the conversation is. But I'm not fighting for the ship. I'm fighting for the characters to be queer. Your characters were already straight. You get what I'm begging for regardless. You think we'd have equal things - love stories - taken away but you're wrong.

If two people don't get together I don't have a love story to live vicariously through anymore. If two people aren't queer I'm not in the story anymore.

Hope this helps.

[zem-zem-zoom]

a doodle of a gumi inspired laika because i could not help myself. it was fun

(laika's comet belongs to @mrspider !!)

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

It’s moments like these that I fear I’m not built for this whole college thing

[everlarkdove]

HOFAS/DAYNIGHT SPOILERS

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The way I passed YEARS in the "Ruhn is a girl's dad" agenda just to HOFAS to come and make him a boy's dad 😭 I'm so down for him and those boys, I NEED THIS FAMILY SARAH J MAAS!

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

actually aria’s ask brings up an important point which is . the only way the sugu/ari/oliver throuple survives is through suguru brat taming him and that requires mindbreak and pavlovian conditioning

[sleepless-in-southlands]

in a lost past, the future grew teeth

Summary: Prophets don't just foresee other people's deaths Notes: Something I wrote for a class and am now dropping off here. Part of the In A Vision universe, but not strictly canon, just an interesting possible take on Luke's own death prophecy

~

When you last wake up, everything will be loud. Savour the peace you have now, if you want, but understand that it’s only peaceful because you don’t know better. It’s only peaceful because, so far, you have associated ‘quiet’ with ‘peace,’ and you don’t yet see the violence that exists in every unheard sound.

It’s okay. You’re figuring it out.

When you last wake up, go to the bathroom, but don’t bother with the toilet, the sink, the bath. Press your cheek to that of your reflection, and stare until your eyes are more pupil than sclera. If you find your mirror lacks a soul, you can place yours there, passed through the gaps of your teeth.

Pull back from the mirror. If it’s fogged from your breath, you did it wrong. Put a hand to your chest. If your lungs still move, you did it wrong. Add a tally to your list of regrets either way.

You’ll have until the phone rings to live, which is all the time in the world, which isn’t very much time at all. If you can’t yet stomach the thought, go back to bed and relive the nightmare of the night before until you remember why that which needs to happen needs to happen.

If there was a way out, don’t you think you would’ve found it already? If there was a way out, and you had found it, do you think you would’ve taken it?

Leave your soul wherever you manage to put it and head to the kitchen. Check your fridge, its food; make sure it’s all ready to rot alongside you, ready to mark the passage of time in a way your body won’t be able to. You won’t want to eat, but you will, if only to distract yourself from the siren song coming from your desk.

The food will taste like dirt. The plate—decaying. Mold under your nails, crawling up your fingers, spiderwebbing across the backs of your hands. You already know where you’re going. You’ll blink and find yourself outside, wood splintering into flesh, the shovel caked in mud. There’ll be a hole in the ground, empty despite your best attempts to fill it.

You’ve already tried this. You can’t bury what you dug up. Yet you’ve tried again. You try again. You’ll try again. Your hands, red painted, carry the guilt you’ve dealt into them, and trying has only made them dirtier. You’ll try to wash them but the sink won’t turn on, your nails will chip, and your blood is too sticky to clean with. Do you understand yet?

When you last wake up, everything will be loud, and you’ll wonder if you’ll even be able to hear the phone ring over the leaves rustling with a verdant fury, the insects crying, the sunlight singing as it cracks open the trees, her footsteps on the edge of your yard. Together, the noises are a scream, and when you scream with them your voice will be swallowed in the sounds and soothed away by the cacophony.

An almost peace, and when the phone rings, it’s an electric hum that will jump across the room to ground itself in your bones.

“Are you ready?”

Are you ready? If the receiver’s already in your hand then you are. The plastic won’t rot, it will shatter, but that’s not your concern. Listen to the voice through the speaker, the wind slamming into the house, the dirt crumbling into your self-made grave, the deer fleeing and the wolves howling and the crows wailing and there—

A knock on your door.

Breathe, if by that point you still can. It won’t matter if you can’t. You’ll drop the phone on instinct, unflinching as it crashes to the ground. When you walk towards her, do so with purpose, with resolve, not blind to your fate but instead embracing it.

Pay attention to the way that, for a single moment, everything tilts towards you. The wood of your house, flimsy in the face of force, knows what it’s like to be chopped down. The animals, knowing you were nothing more than another victim, will prepare to mourn you. The earth, old and timeless, already remembers the way it will hold you.

You will hesitate for a single moment, hand on the doorknob. Do you see now? How beautiful the noise is?

When you last wake up, everything will be loud, and the gunshot will be the most wondrous thing you have ever heard.

[mad-hunts]

[zeetoast]

ween-live-osaka, japan-8-6-2000 voodoo lady and doctor rock save me

save me ween-live-osaka, japan-8-6-2000 voodoo lady and doctor rock

[24-guy]

Can you draw a double date of Michie and Swedish Barbeque? Or a double date of Michie and Lautski?

They’re trying…

[kipowolfton]

so glad I don't have a sweet tooth bro I used to have such a sweet tooth when I was a little kid because my dad spoiled me but I'm so glad eating maggots fixed me

[standsinthecorner]

MOTHER FUCJERS GUESS WHO HAS A FUCKING PHONE AGAIN

[arthitchenzachary]

every time someone leaves kudos on my old ruby redfort fic (like 2017-2018 era) i'm obviously so so pleased that people are still enjoying things i wrote so long ago, but also a part of me always goes oh god please tell me you've read my new stuff too. please i was 14 when i wrote that this can't be your only image of me

[the-worms-in-your-bones]

I have a special skill called getting nervous talking in front of people so I basically go on auto pilot when a professor makes everyone in a class say their name and pronouns and then I forget what I said and get nervous about having said the wrong pronouns

[transannabeth]

redraw where i meant to redesign more of her costume but instead just got lazy and drew her the same ://

oc-tober day 2: girl who is about to get so pissed when her cd player very reasonably starts skipping

[frameconfessions]

Ivara is the ultimate stealth frame.