#I'm not even adding this to the queue

[is-it-cute-gf-au-edition]

You are very cutee heheheheh may you be stuck as a raccoon for lonnmg time heheh cutie feller!! I'm not a cipher loyalist or nuthin I ain't never beeb loyal in me life but you are one cute feller! I hope that drawing made your curse stronger!!! 💕

What am I even supposed to respond to this

[14dayswithyou]

Olivia fell asleep in one of the aisles again...

how do you feel about ren being used in an ai chatbot advertisement?

⌞♥⌝ Thank you for bringing this to my attention. I genuinely despise everything about this so much, and if anyone comes across this ad on TikTok (or anywhere else), I'd really appreciate it if you could report the video and not give it any further engagement.

I'm vehemently against the use of AI that negatively impacts artists, writers/authors, developers, creators, etc., and I don't condone the use of my art and IP without my knowledge and explicit consent — especially when it's being used in a paid ad/sponsorship. It's extremely disrespectful and I have no respect for those who do it.

[smileyobrien]

STAR TREK MATTE PAINTINGS APPRECIATION DEEP SPACE NINE — by Syd Dutton, Robert Stromberg, Eric Chauvin (Illusion Arts Inc.)

Bajor — "Emissary" Starfleet Headquarters — "Homefront" Trill — "Equilibrum" Risa — "Let He Who Is Without Sin..." Cardassia Prime — "Tribunal"

[probablygayattorneys]

Feeling like pure shit just wish someone would cradle my head lovingly as they tackle me to the ground to protect me from a threat caused by a loveable scamp with a penchant for dressing up and being silly

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

pondering my lorb

We Are All Pondering His Orbs

[holocene-sims]

happy birthday to me 🎂

as a gift to y'all on my (not) special day, on this semi-okay monday, i am restarting my story queue 🎉

oh yes, everything the stars promised is so back! and running again at 2 posts at 8 and 9 PM EST for the time being 🥂 i'll slow it down if necessary, but 2 posts a day seems to work pretty well!

[cielrouge]

AYYYY!!! I'M SEEING SKZ NEXT JUNE!!!! YAYYYY!!!!

Ngl there was a hot second where I was sweating when I first joined the virtual ticket queue since it looked like this lmaooo:

So I only fully relaxed when I got down to this in the queue rofl:

[curseofdelos]

WHAT is going on with the Tumblr queue today

[not-poignant]

Hi! You absolutely don't need to answer this, I just wanted to stop by and say that depression definitely sucks, and I'm sorry you're going through it — I hope you feel better soon 💛

Absolutely no rush on posting, please don't feel like you need to stick to any particular schedule for posting or replying to comments. Especially for fic, which should be fun!

Take care — I adore your stories, I think they're incredible, but I'm always happy to wait for them (and I suspect the vast majority of your readers feel the same way 💛)

Ahhh thank you anon this is so kind <3333

My depressive episodes are always pretty heavy, I've been taking the mornings off the past few days to just watch some TV and do cross-stitch and zone out (normally I sit down and get to work immediately, like, 'sit at my computer eating breakfast getting to work.') It's been great to kind of chill out, though I never really stop thinking about the characters or the stories, but I'm more than okay with that.

I'm definitely going to be able to keep to the schedule, it's the 'socialising' side of things that can get harder. But sometimes just little breaks here and there make all the difference. Sometimes even just telling everyone I need a break, ironically takes a lot of pressure off me and then I need less of a break. I guess in a way, that means just communicating helps a lot, which seems really obvious in retrospect!

But you know, it's kind of 'frowned upon' in many professional circles. Tumblr is a weird space, where it honestly feels more natural to be open and authentic, instead of button up my personality and just present a 'WAHEY LET'S READ SOME WRITINGGGG' - I mean I know I do that too sometimes, but honestly, sometimes my vibe is also like 'hi I am pressure cleaning objects in this video game and tired and a bit sore in my brain how's everyone else doing.'

We all get sore in our brains sometimes sdlkfja

The fic is still fun! I love replying to comments. I just do need to take breaks sometimes, especially during times that are supposed to be breaks. I have some particular internal red flags that are like 'oh shit, you're depressed, get offline now' which I never see coming, but once they're there it's like... easier to listen to.

Tomorrow morning and the next morning I'll probably do more of the same - watch TV, do cross-stitch, think about what I'll do for the rest of the day. Honestly that serves as a bit of an internet break too, and frankly I have really needed to just check out a bit more, even for a few hours, but I'm sure many folks know sometimes that's really hard to do until you start making yourself <3333

[deiscension]

﹄ ◇ ; @dnangelic left a prayer

i take it you think i'm frightening? // ALSO ONE FROM DARK

      ⌜◈⌟    ▌ ──  "𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐤 𝐚𝐧𝐲𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚𝐛𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐲𝐨𝐮 𝐰𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐚����𝐝𝐥𝐲 𝐬𝐞𝐞 𝐲𝐨𝐮," she retorts, face still burning with embarrassment at the high pitched yelp she'd let out as soon as she'd realized she wasn't alone.

      𝐓𝐡𝐞 𝐧𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐬𝐨𝐦𝐞 𝐩𝐞𝐨𝐩𝐥𝐞! Sneaking up on young ladies all on their lonesome in the dark and then saying such eerie things; who in their right mind would do that? Never mind that she had been trying to sneak up on him. It was still a flagrant display of appallingly bad manners. And she at least had plenty of good reasons for skulking about. Whoever (or perhaps more aptly, whatever) he is, she hadn't been able to get a clear reading of him during her initial qi scanning. She also hasn't been able to contact anyone through the communication array for the past hour, and without any means of requesting more information or backup, she had to be cautious. What could he say for himself? She had every intention of asking, but she was going to do so fully face to face.

      𝐈𝐠𝐧𝐢𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐩𝐚𝐥𝐦 𝐟𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞, 𝐒𝐡𝐢 𝐐𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐱𝐮𝐚𝐧 𝐡𝐨𝐥𝐝𝐬 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐮𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐢𝐥𝐥𝐮𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐚𝐭𝐞 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐦 𝐛𝐨𝐭𝐡. Her breath catches. Wings darker than night itself, each feather a slash of poet's ink. Jinwu. The thought drags her gaze from wings to chest, where she almost expects to find a golden arrow protruding from his ribcage. When she finally meets his gaze, a chill skitters down her spine. Those aren't the eyes of a crow. Neither are they the eyes of a human, god, or ghost. Outside, the wind begins to howl.

      "𝐀 𝐥𝐢𝐭𝐭𝐥𝐞 𝐮𝐧𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐧𝐲," she admits, giving a polite nod as if trying to help him save face, "but nothing I haven't seen before. You give yourself too much credit, shuai ge."

     𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐬𝐥𝐢𝐠𝐡�� 𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐩 𝐭𝐨 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐬𝐢𝐝𝐞, 𝐬𝐡𝐞 𝐢𝐧𝐝𝐢𝐜𝐚𝐭𝐞𝐬 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐲𝐚𝐰𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐡𝐚𝐥𝐥𝐰𝐚𝐲 𝐬𝐭𝐫𝐞𝐭𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐛𝐞𝐲𝐨𝐧𝐝 𝐡𝐢𝐦 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐚 𝐧𝐨𝐝. Shadows of tree branches dance across latticed windows. The wan, milky light seeping in past them spotlights various displays and artworks hung upon the opposite wall. The details of each subject have been blurred into a mess of nothingness. "That's far more frightening to me. Someone did something they shouldn't have or touched something they shouldn't have, and now look at this sorry state of affairs. Ugh. And right when I-- wait. Why are you in here, anyway?" She can only think of two reasons a fellow nonhuman would be inside this supposedly cursed estate of an eccentric collector. Her eyes widen. "Forget uncanny-- you're in trouble is what you are!"

[mythvoiced]

Aeri can’t decide what she hates more - the way the bejeweled pin in the victor from District 8’s hair is lopsided, or the girl herself. Oh, what Aeri wouldn’t give to wear such an accessory again, or even wear the finery the victor has been gifted to wear to the viewing. That was her once, wasn’t it?

But now? She’s stuck here, watching this spectacle. The brat, who has no idea what privilege she’s been presented with, keeps on creasing the delicate threads of her gown and her stylists also clearly have no idea on how to do the brat’s makeup. And then there’s that damn pin- Aeri’s pin once upon a time- only in place because it’s tangled in there-

And Aeri can’t hold back. When the brat’s stylists are gone, she reaches into the girl’s hair and extracts the pin. Her fingers, callused from years of hard labor that still feels foreign to Aeri, are quick to untangle most of the obvious knots in the brat’s hair before shetwists the locks into a ponytail and then a bun. The pin goes back in.

Aeri glares at the girl through the mirror. Don’t you dare mess up my work.

( congrats lenlen!! you get....aeri, being really resentful, i hope marìa doesn't mind too much ^^' )

@stillresolved | !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! LET HER BE RESENTFUL

---

There's a harshness to being dolled up when you are in no way receptive to it.

María isn't foreign to the roughness of life - she's a fucking Victor, after all, isn't she - she's started working in factories just about around the age even the most moral of District 8 people might turn their back in fear on seeing her walk in, pretending not seeing her would free them of the responsibility of working with a child.

Her hands and nose and palate and lungs had long gotten used and keep getting used to the aftermath of working with chemicals, of being so very intimate with garments and colours, with fumes and heat, with the hard work of surviving, with the hard work of fighting to be allowed a minimal chance at said survival, at figuring that there's little more for people from District 8 to fight for.

Still... it's not the same.

Being pushed around, dressed in things she would have never chosen for herself to serve a people, a man, because she's not stupid enough to not be able to tell what is Capitol and what is Snow and how Capitol is Snow, it's a kind of biting and harsh and rough that doesn't leave behind the usual kind of scars and memories and bruises.

Even surviving the Games had come with a desperately accepted sense of relief, one covered in blood and the humiliation of all she'd done and all she'd thought she'd get to accomplish, only for reality to crash in on her in a victory she hadn't wanted to partake in, hadn't wanted to make possible, when she'd wanted her Games to be victor-less in lieu of ending the Games themselves.

This... this is humiliation in the long run. This has hardly any hope attached to it, waiting for her on the other end of the line. Sometimes, on the worst days, it feels like the true brunt of the battle, walking with blood-stained soles and palms and sparkling as she does, wearing all that might make even the softest source of light appear like flames reflecting off her frame, covering her in fire that had not eaten her alive - much to a few people's disdain.

Picking at things, not holding still, grimacing, shifting her muscles, arms, face to make her stylists' life as difficult as possible, it was all she had to fight back.

The Arena came with death and violence, and living back at home had been physical labour upon physical labour, straining her young body until she could no longer tell if she was broken beyond repair or fitter than children her age should be - had they grown up privileged within the Capitol's safety.

Here she has only threads to tear apart and reflections to glare at.

And a new challenge behind every door.

She feels yanked back, an intensity of motion caused less by the avox suddenly in her hair and more her own stiffness that hadn't prepared her for submission to someone suddenly rearranging her.

After her stylists had left, she'd succumbed to the tension of not wanting to be there, without the added hard work of making sure everybody else does. Lost in her thought, somebody's hands suddenly returning on her had fortified, molten it into a newly forged blade, stiff and ready to strike, tensing everything within her and making a few fingers in her hair turn into a grappling hook tied to a moving mountain.

María is startled enough she can't remember how to glare.

A frown does accompany her widened eyes anyway, making her look... appalled, almost, an addition to her expression so unsuited to typically frightened features, youth tainted by the face of someone used to having to fight to stay alive.

It almost happens in a flash then. The reflection moves and adjusts and fixes and what had started as something that had María's lips split into something acid and trembling, turns into something unpleasant and acrid, but silent, as María sits and lets herself be mandhandled one more time.

That's when she glares. After the avox finishes up, after their eyes meet in the mirror and María sees none of the downturned gazes they're trying to make her accustomed to.

Seeing avoxes pisses her off.

Why take it out on them.

She understands what they are, what they're supposed to represent.

To her, an avox is a statement. No longer a person but rather someone rid of their innate right to be considered one. Even with the determination and life in this avox' eyes, María has come to understand them as tools Snow uses to assert his dominance, people from all circles of life, punished with the robbing of their words... and their detached tongue metaphorically forced to lick away at the tip of the shoes of people like María.

All a scheme.

Infighting.

Use the prey on the prey, make them take each other out.

It'd be easier to feel pity if María could sleep, if the avox hadn't adjusted her appearance, and if the avox wasn't staring her down as if she had any right to do so.

She's oddly beautiful.

She's oddly familiar.

"Why are you helping them?" she hisses, low, whispered, because she might never admit it, but she's... she's a little scared, isn't she? Lately? Devora's face swims before her inner eye, so stern, so wrong.

"I'm on your side more than they are," she adds, pulling a strand of her hair out of the freshly adjusted bun.

[angelsdean]

reblogged too many polls. the aesthetic side of my brain is very ‘need variety on the blog’...it’s unbalanced. saturation of polls. need art, gifs, text posts 

[anarkhebringer]

Somebody please swoop into Dynamis and rescue me from the hell of waiting for a queue, I set up a party finder out of desperation even

[dizaryswrites]

My queue is finally empty so now is the time to make a change

[onlyseokmins]

idiot • h.j.s.

Pairing: joshua hong x afab!reader

Genres: mentions of smut (minors dni!), fwb!au, swearing but fluff and comfort basically

Warnings: menstrual cramps, food, swearing, and beloved idiots haha

WC: tumblr mobile idrk haha just a blurb

A/N: Sorry randomly thought of this while leaving work - in the middle of a Hoshi fic lmaooo okay I wanted to do smth angsty but I need love rn and haven't finished smth this fast in months and not really smut but anyways, imagine a fwb!relationship with Joshua but not quite...

It's like you're not really friends but you do have the benefits of fucking the hot man that drifts to and from different social circles among the large friend groups you mingle about and share.

You know his favorite color of lingerie that he'll rip off immediately, shoving your panties in his pocket ("for later," he winks and promises to buy you a new pair every time - he doesn't). But you are sure he doesn't even know your favorite color (it's baby blue, the same color of the shirt he wore when you first met - coincidentally the same one he wore when he seduced and ended up fingering you against the wall of the club's bathroom and then propositioned this arrangement - and like a fool, who are you to say no?).

He's always been nice - too nice. So nice, he's aloof at most times. Never letting anyone too close. And you really try not to yearn to be the first one he opens his heart to.

Definitely not.

It's why you're crying in bed one late afternoon, chalking it up to the hormones and cramps that come with mother nature's wrath. There's a gentle knock on your door before the key code is punched in. You think it's Seungkwan, the kind soul who always stops by to bring goodies and solid words of wisdom you never dare act on but no - it's fucking Joshua Hong.

"What are you doing here, I'm on my period."

You're grouchy and while it's not his fault that it's that time of the month, it is his fault that you're even more irritable than normal. Oh, and maybe those stupid feelings or whatever.

"I know."

All he does is simply nod and set down the bags he's carrying, taking stuff out that you realize are pain meds, compresses, ice packs - your cheeks heat up - even a stash of various pads and tampons.

"Seungkwan, that lil bitch."

Joshua turns with a raised eyebrow, holding what you recognize is a takeout container from your favorite restaurant. One that's all the way across town so you rarely go.

"What does this have to do with Seungkwan?"

You sigh. "Look, if he forced you to bring this stuff or somehow blackmailed you, don't worry. I'll chew him out on your behalf later."

He laughs, opening up the food and unwrapping the utensils, waving them in your face. "I don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't lie."

"I'm not!"

"You're saying you drove all the way to Seokmin's place to buy that - mind you it's even further of a drive there for you than it is for me - and bought hygienic products?"

"Yeah. I didn't know exactly what to get so I just grabbed everything on the shelf."

"What the fuck, Joshua. Why? I'm not fucking you, I feel like shit. I also look like shit."

He flinches but gives you a glance-over that has you frowning even harder. "I'll admit you do look very pretty with my cock inside of you or when you get all dolled up..."

You roll your eyes and flop back on your bed, rolling over so your back faces him out of spite.

"But you do look hella sweet right now. Even if you're pissed off."

"Don't placate me, I'm not fucking you. I won't suck you off either."

Joshua's soft laugh makes your heart flip-flop. "I'm not here for that. How hard is it for you to believe that I came to really take care of you?"

"If the sun rises in the west tomorrow, I wouldn't be surprised. Clearly you're just a hallucination."

"Did you know hallucinations are our true desires?"

"Where'd you hear such bull crap? Jeonghan?"

"No," he snorts, "but I know you like me."

"I'm not fucking you the next time you want to either. Actually, I might not fuck you ever again."

It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth honestly, especially when he touches your shoulder with a gentleness that shouldn't exist. You glare at him. He smiles.

"That's fine. I mean, I'd like to fuck again sometime in the future but just hanging out is cool too. Maybe even for dates?"

"Maybe you're right. You're nothing but a figment of my imagination."

"Then I'm also right that you like me."

"Do not!" You throw the covers over your head. "Remember, we fuck without feelings, Joshua. And remember who set that rule, Mr. Hong?"

"An idiot did. So what if that idiot changed his mind?"

"He'd still be an idiot."

"... Correct, but may I clarify - an idiot with feelings."

When you emerge and peek out from the blankets, he's fiddling with his fingers nervously. "Would still be an idiot."

"An idiot that likes you."

"Whatever," you huff but he sees the smile on your lips before you're diving away from sight again.

Relief floods him, knowing he's not wrong - you like him too. Laying gently over your prone body, he hums in content.

"When you feel better let's go on a date." All you do is wiggle beneath him and he smirks. "I'll wear that shirt you like. You know, the blue one."

"I don't know what you're talking about."

"Sure, not like you jump me every time I wear it."

"I do not!"

"It's okay, I know a lot more than you can guess but I still think you're cute anyways."

And maybe you realize it's you that doesn't know Joshua all that well. But he seems to think he knows an awfully lot about you. And maybe he does. But you want to prove him wrong.

"Alright, let's go on a date," you peek back out, the blankets a shield between you and him as they're pulled high under your nose. But he's still looking at where you're mouth (he's never kissed - yet) would be. Bastard. "Wear that stupid shirt and I'll prove I won't jump you."

His warm brown eyes crinkle playfully. "Sure, let's, I'll buy you a couple of pretty sets like I promised since I ripped so many."

"About time."

He shrugs. "Don't worry, I'll make up for it. I was worried about what you would think it meant but now I don't have to care. I want it to be official."

You take the food from him when he brings it back over. "I guess I do too if you're going to drive so far just to get Seok's delicious food."

"So I'm just an errand boy to you? That's all it took to get to your heart? Seokmin's food?"

Looking at him under your lashes, you bite your lip. "You know it's much more than that..."

Joshua laughs, big and bright - just like the moment he first caught your attention. "And just so you know, I like you much more than you think."

And he'll spend all of his time proving it.

[rubys-domain]

damn, i still got a healthy amount of posts in the queue. i went a little ham in my last queuing spree huh