#I will accept suggestions lol

[erisenyo]

For @fandomtrumpshate and just in time for @zukkaweek "Free Day", a horny fun one-shot featuring some established Zukka, some external POVs, Sokka being an artist, Zuko being a showoff, a bit of self-denial about who is indulging who in what, and mirrors.

[“Trying to clear out the street?” he manages, immediately giving into the urge to pant for the way it makes Zuko’s lips part, his eyes trained on Sokka’s chest in the mirror. “You don’t think they’d stay to enjoy the view?” Zuko rasps, eyes flicking up to Sokka’s and the evidence of just how much he’s enjoying it nudging against Sokka’s hip. Sokka lets out a half-breathless laugh even as desire coils through him. “The view of you, more like,” he says wryly. Zuko might never outright say it, but after so many years Sokka knows that it’s not him anyone is focused on in these particular fantasies.] Or, Sokka isn't an exhibitionist. But seeing what it does to Zuko...maybe he can find a way to indulge just a little.

[ashleyslorens]

TAROT CARDS ✴ HADESTOWN [in/sp]

[haaam-guuuurl]

[pettyprocrastination]

whoever this beloved anon was I am so touched by your kindness! You definitely didn’t have to do this but I am so happy you enjoy this idea and I will happily expand upon it for you!

this is just a collection of word vomit bullet points for the time being but I will happily answer any and all questions about this pair!!

warnings: violence, angst, child death (Sarah Miller), foul language, the same warnings that apply to tlou, reader is Sarah's mom and described as having similar features to her. 

So the general Idea is that you and Joel are happily married before the outbreak. 

You had been Sarah's mother, his high school sweetheart he got pregnant when neither of you were old enough to have any reaction to the pregnancy test other than a fucking panic attack in one another’s arms. but you made it work 

you both worked but made time for one another and your sweet girl, going to museums every other weekend and joel insisting on swooping you off for a date every now and then 

nothing special. He knows you’re more of a diner gal than anything too fancy that makes you both feel out of place. 

On his birthday in 2003, you had planned to tell him that you were pregnant again. But the memories of your own fears of motherhood from all those years ago begin to swirl through your head again and you get cold feel. deciding to tell him the morning after

it is his birthday afterall, you want to focus on him. 

but when you’re woken up in the middle of the night because tommy needs to get bailed out, Joel kisses you sweetly one last time before promising he’ll be back and you can’t shake the feeling that something bad is happening. 

its you that shakes sarah awake that night. shouting at her to put on her shoes when she’s still rubbing the sleep from her eyes because you’ve been listening to the radio for the past two hours, calling joel again and again and again praying for him to fucking pick up but to no avail. 

Sarah, bless your little girl’s bleeding heart is the one who insists you check on the adler’s against your better suspicions and when you find the eldest looming over her daughter, blood and sinew dripping from her mouth, you grab your daughter hand and burst into a full sprint until something slams into your back and sends you tumbling onto their front lawn

its how joel finds you, struggling to keep the once sweet old woman, whose now nothing more than dead eyes and gnashing teeth straining to snap at your pulse point as you push against her while sarah shrieks before your husband runs forward and cracks her skull with a wrench. 

there’s hardly a moment of pause, just enough for him to pull you up and into his arms before he’s ushering you both into the car with an urgency. 

when the truck crashes, you get separated from them. Perhaps at Tommy’s side when the flames rise and create a wall, separating you from your husband, or maybe pulled into the mob of chaos when trying to escape from those already infected-

all joel knows is that you promise you’ll find him: just get sarah to safety and you’ll meet him at the river

Poor thing is already so frightened, held in her father’s arms with tears streaming down her face insisting they can’t leave you they just can’t but her father kisses her forehead and reassures her its going to be okay 

“we just need to be brave, okay babygirl? Your mama’s real tough, she’s gonna be alright.” 

he isn’t sure if he’s saying it to his daughter or himself. 

but when he comes to the river you aren’t there. Only a soldier who points a gun at the scared little girl in his arms and then he loses everything

its when the light is gone from his daughter’s eyes that he realizes. His voice cracked and raw from sobbing that he looks around to see his brother with drawn in shoulders and tears in his eyes but his wife is nowhere to be found. 

Tommy says you got lost in the chaos. Everything was so loud, so sudden that he turned around and suddenly you weren’t there. 

Joel wants to go back but its Tommy that stops him, that dulls the red in his vision to a sad faded pink because his brother points at the orange horizon not too far from them, so much of the city is already in flames. 

“We’re gonna find her, but not there.” 

So Joel searches. for the first year spent in the world post-outbreak its all he did. 

He became a smuggler because of it. 

Information came at a price and he needed to be able to fucking pay it, whether it be in blood or ration cards. He was willing to do anything to find you or any thin thread that lead your way. 

But it’s Tommy that asks him to give up. Not in those words of course. 

The youngest Miller knows better than to say something so cruel that would make his brother, the only person he has in this world turn on him. 

But his voice is worried when he asks him one night in Boston when he hasn’t even had the chance to wash the blood from his knuckles 

“You think she would have wanted this for you?” 

the fight that followed his words was brutal. Vicious insults and scarred fists slamming against each brother until they're both too tired and bloody to continue. Each leaning against a wall for support and Tommy’s wavering voice breaking the silence. 

“I don’t know where she is, Joel. But I do know you're gonna get yourself killed if you keep lookin’ for her.” 

All he can do is nod. 

It’s a few days later when he meets Tess. Who has heard plenty of stories about the elder miller’s brutality and wants him to put that muscle to good use for some extra profit. 

It begins his new life. One that empty and cold but one he can live. 

Until of course, Ellie comes along. The sweet and incredibly opinionated girl that makes him become something akin to the man he thought died twenty years ago. 

its when he’s traveling with Ellie, that it happens. When a warm familiarity has settled between the two because so much blood and pain has been shared he can’t help but see her as something close, something bright even though all he can force himself to utter in her reference is “cargo” 

when theyre traveling through the woods as Ellie chatters away, probing his memory about a movie that may or may not have existed thirty years ago because her descriptions of the plot are incredibly odd he hears a voice shout for them to stop and finds himself staring at a man- no, a boy- pointing a gun at them. 

Ellie stills, but Joel can see enough to know that from the lanky figure and dimpled face that he’s young. Maybe twenty, twenty-two at the oldest, but his eyes dart from Joel to Ellie with a pinprick of fear that allows Joel the time to charge forward and slam him to the ground before wrestling the gun from his hands. 

He has enough to time to tuck it under the stranger’s chin before he hears the sound of the safety being turned off and finds himself looking up and seeing a gun just inches from his face. 

Joel’s head whips around when Ellie’s voice calls out his name in fear, he turns to see another stranger holding her a gun point, shoulders drawn back and a shadow cast over their face by the had obstructing their identity. 

“You hurt one of mine, I hurt one of yours. That a fair deal?” 

Its takes him a moment to recognize you. It’s been so long since he’s heard your voice, the sweet tease when you would poke at him each time he woke up late despite the fact that you reminded him to set his alarm the night before, the times you’d chide him with a harsh “Joel Miller!” whispered in public anytime he was able to grab you a bit too passionately to be appropriate in public but the laughter in your voice let him know you were never truly mad at him. You didn’t know how to be. 

But that sweetness is buried under a cold rasp that cuts through the air as you point a rifle at the scared little girl in front of you.

“You think I won’t?” You’re older now, skin covered in scars from a life he didn’t know you got the chance to live and your eyes are cold as they regard your husband. “Put the gun down and get the fuck off of him, I won’t repeat myself.” 

Joel mumbles your name in awe. The woman he loved, the woman he mourned the one he fought so hard to find stands before him like some sort of hallucination and suddenly the world feels like its spinning until you bark orders at him again. 

“You’ve got five seconds Joel, make a fucking choice before I make it for you.” 

He looks down and realizes the boy under him, the one with the bleeding nose and snarling face has your eyes and his dimples. 

“One.” 

The one above him has Sarah’s hair. Soft brown curls that shine under the sun. 

“Two”

Wait. No, they both do.

“Three.” 

Twins. Jesus fucking Christ you had twins. 

“Four.” 

Joel holds the rifle up above his head and the one boy standing snatches it from his grasp, tossing it to the ground and kicking it far from his reach. He slowly stands, allowing your son- dear god your son- to scramble to his feet. 

Your voice softens just for a moment. “You okay, Duke?” 

Blood stains the bottom half of his face from where Joel slammed his fist into the boy’s nose just moments before, but he nods nonetheless. 

Now, they both stand on one side of you and he can see the resemblance clear as day the same way he would whenever Sarah was by your side.

When you order him to hand over his bag, he does so without question before telling Ellie to do the same. 

She watches him with wide eyes, her hands still up in the air but gaping at her companion as if he had grown a second head. 

“Joel!” “Just do it, alright?”

He doesn’t miss the way you watch their interaction with narrowed eyes until she tosses her bag to you and you slowly lower your gun. 

“Now, you want to tell me what the fuck you think you’re doin’ at my home?” 

[thecrimsonjaguar]

i think when it comes to the F+C finale it's important to see where the writers were coming from. And it's easy to do that, the lesson/moral they gave simon is fairly clear: Simon needs to appreciate his life because Betty sacrificed so much to get him here. alright, cool, that's good on paper.

I do Also think that the execution was poor.

up until this point, the crown has represented/could be viewed as many things. Alzheimer's, substance abuse, and anything else people have called it. In this series, a newer interpretation has arose: Suicide. And I'm certain the writers were aware of this. Depression and suicidal ideation are such strong themes in this series that they can't NOT be purposeful.

So their attempt at teaching Simon to appreciate Betty's sacrifice can ALSO be read as: Simon, the suicidal, on the verge of a relapse-man, gets put into a body of a child, (and that is very powerful imagery that does not help, actually) and is told nearly expressly that he fucked up in his relationship with the love of his life. He is told he should have sacrificed more for betty. And he says to himself: "Maybe i wouldn't have even found the crown". Basically it's simon pinning the blame on himself for his 1000 year curse on his mistakes with Betty. Which of course can be read as Simon's self loathing but the show does nothing to refute his statement, which i also have issue with. Simon putting on the crown was stated to be a Mistake. it was an accident. No matter what, the crown cursing him Was Not His Fault. Ever. It's not Betty's fault, it's not Simon's, it. was. a. Mistake.

regardless on if they should or should not have introduced these new flaws into simon's character, having simon learn his mistakes like This feels. icky. to me.

[egg-emperor]

I think if there wasn't such a stigma and negative connotation applied to fetishes, where people act like they're inherently predatory and that those that have them have no respect for people or their boundaries when it comes anyone that can potentially fulfill said fetish, then accusations of things being fetishes even in cases where they aren't wouldn't matter

Like I do have a bunch of fetishes and they're not just preferences that influence what I'm attracted to, they're fetish status and I think that's fine. I'm not ashamed and I'm very chill about everyone else's too because I don't react or judge based on disgust factor and I know they're not inherently immoral to have, no matter what they are. It doesn't rule or control how you act and embracing them doesn't inhibit you from being good to others and not involving people who don't want to be involved

I know that I have certain ones where people will assume it says something about my morals and whether I'll respect people/be sensible around things that can appeal to and fulfill them (Example: body type) but I know it's not true for myself and many others. It does stop me from being as open as I'd like to be about them to the point I'm always on the fence with promoting one of my other blogs but I'm not ashamed, I just don't want drama from close-minded people

Most people have fetishes, I feel like it's very rare not to yet 98% of people aren't just going around dehumanizing anyone that could potentially entertain them and being inappropriate with people who didn't consent just on the basis of having them. And you don't just pick them and you can't choose to just switch them off, when it comes to people having issues with certain kinds existing at all lol. You can only choose how you go about it and whether you'll respect people's boundaries and not physically bring them into it if they don't agree to it

My fetishes do seep into concepts I create a lot and if too explicit and obvious they go on the appropriate blogs or the appropriate tags. I'm using a character to fulfill it who happens to fit the bill very well. And if someone accuses me of dehumanizing real life people, despite not even seeing how I can be respectful and sensible around those who could potentially entertain them, then I think they're just silly and it doesn't bother me. Fetishes aren't inherently predatory and dehumanizing and people are still capable of respecting real people and keeping things fantasy/only physically involving people when they consent

And it's because of this that when I see someone go "Um this person fetishized XYZ they're a bad person", it doesn't matter to me and I don't need them to insist that it isn't one for it to be okay. I understand that sometimes it isn't and someone is being wrongfully accused but I think that would be met much less negatively if it hadn't been so stigmatized. So instead I'm like "Alright, so what if it is a fetish for them?" if I can see that they're clearly sensible and respectful and safe and sane and consensual about it Idc. Go be free and get your rocks off however you want then, that's awesome I support you

[incorrect-web-novels]

Not to fan the discourse flames, especially since this is mainly a web novel occurrence, but certain people who hate Jiang Cheng purely on moral grounds are really strange to me when you consider what Wei Wuxian did to Wen Chao. "He (allegedly) killed innocent demonic cultivators." "He's ungrateful." "He's homophobic." "He's manipulative and abusive." Okay, but, like, Wen Chao literally ate parts of himself out of madness. Wang Lingjiao bit his penis off. Like or dislike any character you want without apology, but we're well past morality policing rn tbh. It's okay if they're a little fucked up

[sheila--e]

day 6. based on my very real struggles getting out of bed lately

[alangdorf]

Finally, my (min qty: 1) requisite Funky Yabusame Drawing. Like with the Tsubakura pic, you don’t gotta read too hard into the symbolism; I was mostly just doing whatever looked cool lol

[msburgundy]

in so much pain that i'm honestly second guessing if any of this is worth it lol

[ladybugsimblr]

Smoke Shadow & Summer Gloss worn by Bailey Kay

BKB

[valtsv]

About the job thing, have you ever looked into becoming a social media manager? Imo, it's no different from being an office worker. Your ability to consistently get hundreds of thousands of notes on this website is legitimately impressive and a lot of small businesses or corporations would really want in on that.

it's not a bad idea, but personally my ability to use social media has never been something i've wanted to monetize because for me having my paycheck be dependent on how many likes/shares/views i get is a terrifying idea and basically the opposite of what i've been working for years to try to distance myself from so it doesn't wreck my mental health. as corny as it is, i genuinely feel happier and like what i share and how i interact with people online is more meaningful, both to me and to others, because it isn't tied to a financial reward or career development path. social media is a hobby for me, an escape, not a lifestyle, which is why tumblr is my only main social media (except discord maybe i guess). i post things because i want to, because i have ideas i want to share and know that at least some people will find them interesting or funny, not because i need to earn a quota of follows or clicks to justify my employment. i'm free to say what i want and to leave at any time. it's something i've thought about before, but i don't really want to change that. i'm happier like this. i really appreciate the advice though, genuinely ^_^

[onboardsorasora]

Surprising no one (excluding myself because I'm plenty surprised), we have a part 2? Truly flying by the seat of my pants here. This happened because I tried a new tea blend today..

Part 1 of our Charmed/Practical Magic AU

Part 2

So Daniel takes Max back to his house because there's no way they’re going to sit through hours of lecture after this. Max is….freaking out a little. Rightfully so. But Daniel knows that Grace will fix him right up!

They’re at the ranch and Grace is waiting for them in the kitchen, she places a cup of tea in front of Daniel’s favourite bar stool.

“Mama, this is Max. I think we saw him coming.” Daniel announced, attempting to offer her back the agate crystal. She shook her head, motioning for him to keep it. She didn’t even try to touch it. Daniel shrugs and puts it back in his pocket because, well he’s used to his mom’s witchy idiosyncrasies.

“Hi. I… I don’t like hot drinks.” Max didn’t want to seem rude but he also figured it would be ruder to not drink the drink she offered.

“Good, so Mark was right this time.” Grace hummed before offering a glass of iced tea to Max instead. He took it hesitantly because he was sure the cup on the counter behind her had been a mug instead.

Max looked around the house, well the kitchen. It was one of those older designs, before everyone knocked down all their walls for an ‘open concept’ design. It all seemed normal, but something wasn’t right about any of this. He was tense, shoulders at his ears. Because the whole world paused…but this guy, Daniel, didn’t seem to be weirded out as much as Max had been.

“Hi Max, my name is Grace– I’m Daniel’s mother. Just have a seat and drink up and I’ll explain everything I can.”

“Something did happen!” Max’s eyes widened. He was just about ready to compartmentalize and pretend it didn’t happen but now… Now answers were being offered. He looked down at the iced tea in his glass warily. 

“It's just tea, some chamomile, rose and mint with some honey. To calm your nerves a bit. I promise.” Grace smiled a very maternal ‘I’ll take care of you’ smile at him and Max nodded and sipped the drink. He tasted the earthy tones and it didn’t taste like there was anything extra. But then again, he didn’t know what poison tastes like.

Everyone and everything looked normal, but Max thought there was….something about this house. He’d felt it the moment Daniel had pulled into the driveway. It wasn’t spine chilling per say but more like he needed to pop his ears. They weren’t high up in any altitude, if anything the house sat in a valley.

Max watches Grace as she bustled around the kitchen, mixing things in a bowl. It smelled lovely like there was bread in the oven. He felt like he was out of his body a little. Daniel was beside him watching him closely, he could feel his eyes on it. Max thought that the most interesting thing about this day would have been him fantasizing in class about how pretty Daniel was and maybe beating himself up about not getting his number.

Now though..

Max turned to Daniel, “everything froze today, that– that happened right?” He’d asked him that in the truck already on the drive over and Daniel had said yes then. He nodded again, saying yes now. But that made Grace freeze and rush over to Daniel and hug him.

“Congrats my baby!” She gushed and Max was even more confused now. 

“Thanks mama, I figured we’d talk about it after.” Daniel was sheepish and Grace kissed his forehead. Max didn’t think he’d be jealous of someone's mom, but here we are. Today was a day of wonders.

“What’s going on, truly.” Max whispered and Grace turned to him, she didn’t touch him he noticed.

“Max, this is going to sound like a shock, but our family, we’re supernatural beings. Daniel and I are witches.” Grace said calmly, watching Max’s reaction closely, Daniel looked stressed as fuck.

Max’s eyes widened, no shit. Well that’s….that’s something. But how did he come into all of this?

Luckly, Grace continued before he could ask. Because he didn’t think it would come out very politely.

“We think you might be one of us as well.”

Well, fuck. Not exactly how he expected this day to go at all.

[anonymousboxcar]

This thought is late to the Ides of March party, but I’ve had it and I can’t get it out of my head: If engines are named after aristocrats and kings, maybe it wouldn’t be all that far-fetched for one to be named Caesar?

In the TTTE / RWS ‘verse, I can imagine Engine Caesar being very proud to be named after a Significant Historical Figure. It’s a sign of his importance, his higher station. He doesn’t shut up about it until someone informs him what exactly happened to the man.

I honestly think it fits in with the series’ ethos of not getting too big for your britches. Historical Caesar got too confident, too certain of himself and his control over Rome. There was even some extreme karmic comeuppance!

I also like the thought of Engine Caesar trying to keep that little historical event quiet from his peers. After weeks of throwing his weight around, he refuses to give the “lessers” any fuel for a revolt.

He doesn’t succeed.

On the morning of March 16th, only the engines know what happened the night before in the sheds. None of them are talking. Engine Caesar doesn’t talk much at all for the next couple days.

But Engine Caesar never answers to that name again (and becomes less of a bully in the yard).

[beaft]

Being as I just saw you complain about people who talk online about having abusive parents, I don't think anyone should try to tell you about their sorrows.

i'm having trouble gauging the tone of this ask. if it's jokey, cool, but if it's not, then i find it quite strange that you purposefully sought me out to complain about the fact that i... set boundaries over how strangers talk to me online? like, sorry for having a heart of pure granite or whatever, but i simply do not enjoy having people i don't know graphically trauma-dump in the notes of my funnyman posts while telling me how lucky i am not to have been beaten as a child

[just-a-silly-boy]

if there is someone else in this fandom who write or draw dark lotf content please let me know!

PLEASE

i'm tired of all these cute lovely ship thing i see everywhere.

i want more savage boys torturing and killing each other please.