#I'm particularly looking for

[realgoogleslides]

Me: Wants to read fanfiction.

Me: Doesn't want to read romance, just bestie boos being bestie boos.

Me: Is currently asking tumblr if there is anything.

...

Is there?

(Please I need to write a presentation on this-)

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

genuinely is my brain erasing itself or is google/tumblr censoring that post about notre dame and old growth forests.

[sunderwight]

What if the plant body hadn't worked out, and the Holy Mausoleum solution had actually taken a long time to sort of "fix" Shen Qingqiu's body and fully call his soul back to it, so that hundreds of years passed and civilization in PIDW/SV world progressed to the point of something like the "modern era"?

Imagine Luo Binghe trying to delicately introduce his shizun to such strange concepts as smart phones and credit cards, while Shen Qingqiu is just desperately trying to figure out how dumb he should play this. Would it be believable for him to get everything on the first try? There have to be some differences between what he knows and this world's versions, right, because of the demons and cultivators and things? Right?? But it's not like any of this actually IS difficult for him to grasp!

Luo Binghe: Shizun already discerned how to type using a keyboard...?

Shen Qingqiu, sweating bullets: what, like it's hard?

[lurkinglurkerwholurks]

Bruce is six years old when he promises Gotham that he will be her protector, if she will help him. He is too idealistic, too naive, too young to know what it means to make such an open-ended promise to a city like Gotham. Too like his parents. He means well, he means it truly, so young but already too aware of the need in her streets, the corruption, the pain, from murmured conversations by worried adults far over his head.

He promises. She accepts. But nothing comes for free in Gotham, especially not power. Her bargains are sealed in blood.

She takes his parents, a worthy sacrifice for the path carved out before him. She will be his guardian now—hard, demanding, exacting, the perfect teacher. She will be the shadows staining his steps.

He grows. He gives her everything he promised—his duty, his honor, his will, his might, his sweat, his blood. She gives him more. Two more bodies fall, blood in sand, and she gives him a son. A little light—a flash of anger, a spark of joy, the glow at the end of a long tunnel—to guide him onward and keep him moving forward, as he will guide others. Then another, swapped in payment for bloodied lips and scabbed needle marks, blood stopping cold and congealed. He loves them fiercely. He loves them too much?

She is life, so full of millions of flickering lives, but so she must also be death; with one so must go the other. She is a cat of a city, fanged, playful with a bite. She claws back the second gift, the second son. Not forever. It was never meant to be forever. Their deal was his parents, his blood sweat tears heart. But her other children have their own wants, though he is her first, her best, and she must let them have their indulgences. Life and death. Shadow and spotlight. Black and green. And that one had made promises of his own.

She borrows his boy and sends him another when he falters, almost falls. Shoves the twig of a boy under his arm like a crutch to keep him upright, allows for payment at a later date—a car crash, a sliced throat.

More come, and when they cross her borders, passage paid for by others, she delivers them to him. They are transplants, like the first, but they take root in her toxic soil like natives, sending out a rush of vines to climb her concrete. The girl knows Gotham, speaks her language with a fluency that rivals his; the boy is the blood of his blood, and she welcomes him as one of her own.

They change her, little by little, fight by fight, but not so much that the second son is out of step when he is returned, stained red by the blood of his own oath. Just borrowed, just transformed, returned to aid, to rival, to hack his own path. How they choose to fulfill their promises is not her concern.

She is life and she is death. She is vengeance. She is the night. She is dark shadow even as they turn her slowly, slowly into the light. She licks the blood from their wounds, the sweat from their brows, and breathes. And grows.

They are her forsworn. They are her children. And she will not let them fall.

[inkskinned]

one of the things about being an educator is that you hear what parents want their kids to be able to do a lot. they want their kid to be an astronaut or a ballerina or a politician. they want them to get off that damn phone. be better about socializing. stop spending so much time indoors. learn to control their own temper. to just "fucking listen", which means to be obedient.

one of the things i learned in my pedagogy classes is that it's almost always easier to roleplay how you want someone to act. it's almost always easier to explain why a rule exists, rather than simply setting the rule and demanding adherence.

i want my kids to be kind. i want them to ask me what book they should read next, and i want to read that book with them so we can discuss it. i want my kid to be able to tell me hey that hurt my feelings without worrying i'll punish them. i want my kid to be proud of small things and come running up to me to tell me about them. i want them to say "nah, i get why this rule exists, but i get to hate it" and know that i don't need them to be grateful-for-the-roof-overhead while washing the dishes. i want them to teach me things. i want them to say - this isn't safe. i'm calling my mom and getting out of this. i want them to hear me apologize when i do fuck up; and i want them to want to come home.

the other day a parent was telling me she didn't understand why her kid "just got so angry." this woman had flown off the handle at me.

my dad - traditional catholic that he is - resents my sentiment of "gentle parenting". he says they'll grow up spoiled, horrible, pretentious. granola, he spits.

i am going to be kind to them. i am going to set the example, i think. and whatever they choose become in the meantime - i'm going to love them for it.

[mintjeru]

olympics 2024 men's volleyball japan vs. argentina match you will always be famous

open for better quality | no reposts

[souenkun]

I need the pokemas anniversary to come soon so we can hopefully see volo go batshit crazy again for the second time!!!

[salamispots]

some downtime doodling

[themeraldee]

How’d think homelander would react if his friend, naybe a bit younger, as inexperienced and asked him lessons on kissing?

Homelander’s taken out of  his thoughts when you drop the bomb. He blinks a few times, shaking his head clear before letting out a mix of a scoff and a chuckle.

“Why the fuck are you acting as if you’ve never—you’ve never been kissed… Wow! Talk about a confession huh?” From downturned confused lips to a downright wolfish smile he steps closer to you, pointing and waving his signature red gloved finger in your direction.

“Well, you’re lucky you came to the expert, really. Some other loser wouldn’t even know where to start.” With downturned lips and a sweeping gesture of his arms he keeps a steady pace.

“You’re really gonna teach me?” You’re surprised at his approaching form. While you did ask, you expected a ranked list of top five do’s and don’t’s rather than a full-on demonstration. The nervous coil in your gut bursts into butterflies.

“You betcha—embarrassing that I even have to teach you at this point. What the fuck were you doing in your teens? Something wrong, clearly.” He’s thoroughly enjoying poking fun at your inexperience. Toying with the precious gift that just landed in his lap.

You roll your eyes, ready to give up on the topic if all you’re gonna get is teasing, but Homelander stops you.

“Regardless, what kind of friend would I be otherwise?” At this point he’s right in front of you, gloved hands cradling your jaw as he tilts your head around, almost inspecting your lips for the best strategy moving forward.

“A sane one, maybe.” You huff out an embarrassing little laugh while Homelander thankfully chooses to ignore your sassy remark. Your heart is thumping loudly in your chest—now that’s got his rapt attention a lot more than your words.

His eyes are locked on your lips, licking his own at the thought of tasting yours.

“Alright, you better be taking notes. This is a once in a lifetime opportunity.” He seemingly can’t get off his high horse now that he’s finally the one to have had more human experience than you. Sure, your childhood may have been perfectly fine compared to his but he’s been kissed many times. He’s got that on you.

“And none of the little pecks alright, you’re not kissing your grandma here. I’m gonna show you the big guns. So all you gotta do is part your lips a teeny bit—perrrfect, just like that—and when I press mine against yours you’re gonna press back into mine, okay? Easy peasy.”

You nod seriously, as if you were truly taking notes throughout this invigorating lecture.

Homelander leans in, pulling your jaw towards him at the same time and he does just as he said. His lips slot right in between yours, his thin and slightly crooked yet perfectly soft. You follow his instructions and movements and you press yours into his before loosening them up again. The intimate warmth of a slow kiss has your butterflies raging, eager to escape the cage. Your heart is thundering in your ears now. 

Homelander lets out a soft little hum, pressing his lips against yours again, this time trapping your upper lip with a loud mwah upon release. The nature of it all has the tips of your ears burning hot, with your cheeks feeling unbearably warm to the touch. Your lips are tingling when he pulls away, brain short-circuiting a little at how affected that left you.

“Not bad for a newbie, not bad at all.” You’re surprised to see him equally flushed, though he hides it well behind his words.

Before you have time to process what just happened he continues. “Now you kiss me.” Your eyebrows shoot upwards in shock. “Come on now, don’t be shy. Right here.” He teases and purses his lips, tapping them with a gloved finger, making silly kissy noises straight after.

“Like… you want me to initiate?” You blink a few times, starting to feel like this was a bad idea all along.

“Mhm.” He hums with a nod, eyes sparkling with mischief as he leans in closer, not letting you get out of it.

You do your best, parting and pressing your lips into his clumsily, hitting more the corner of his lips than the soft part of them. His little chuckle sends a new hot wave of embarrassment down your neck. You try again, this time hitting the target just right, focusing on the feel of him more than the technique as your eyes flutter shut. Repeatedly with slight change in angles you kiss him, pressing your lips into his, surprisingly feeling light-headed at how enthusiastically he’s kissing you back.

It kind of sweeps you off your feet really. You let Homelander envelop his arms around you, pulling you closer as he attempts to deepen the kiss. “Open wider, use your tongue.” He says, muffled by your lips, unwilling to pull away.

After a little trial and error, your tongue is meeting his with every kiss now, lips parted and eager to meet the other ones. Homelander eagerly licks your lips open, sucking on your lip with a little whine. This demonstration is nothing like what you imagined your request to be met with, yet here you are. Your legs feel like jelly now, if it wasn’t for his hold you’d be boneless on the floor with hot swollen lips as a sweet reminder.

What was meant to be a little lesson of how two people’s lips interlock turned into a lengthy breathless and heated make-out session. While you never expected the movie-like fireworks you get your own version of them with a beating heart so loud it might as well be an explosive device. You never imagined your first kiss to feel so intimate and passionate but it is just that. That and more.

When you both pull away—mainly to allow you access to oxygen—you’re both flushed and hot, lips swollen and wet. You’re more surprised at how affected he ends up looking. But Homelander doesn’t like being on level ground with just about anyone. He pushes through his own flustered appearance, bringing back his bravado.

“Well, fuck. Look at that! Popped your cherry—or well, not quite yet but that can be arranged. Buuut, we might as well get all of your firsts out of the way with the expert. What do you say?” With his flushed cheeks, for once his wolfish smile doesn’t feel quite so dangerous. But you’ll sorely come to regret that thought a little down the line.

[rainbun]

They did it guys!!

[outersyourwilds]

Made Gneiss in Miitopia for funsies ehe

[fluentisonus]

still trying to figure out how to draw the old man

[mazken]

brush test slash rendering practice with ayem

[unproduciblesmackdown]

WAUGH!!!

[thii-nii]

운사람 by Hwang Da Seul ('The one who cried' perhaps as a wordplay of 눈사람 'snowman') Lyrics for the ending song of 'Let Free the Curse of Taekwondo' episode 7 (sung by Kim Nu Rim) and episode 8 (sung by Lee Seon) (Both) 내가 빛이 나면 네가 살아질까 Will you disappear if I shine too brightly? 애써 꼭꼭 나를 감춰 봐 So I try to hide myself with all my might. 내가 울어버리면 네가 녹을까 Will you melt if I cry? 애써 꾹꾹 나는 참아 봐 So I'm doing my best to hold back my tears. 봄이 안 오면 안 갈래 If spring doesn't come, I don't want to go. 평생 안 울면 너 안 갈래 If I/you never cry again, you don't want to go. 어떡해야 널 다시 안을지 What should I do to be able to hold you again? 아니, 내가 안으면 또 사라질까 No, will you disappear once more, if I hug you? (Lee Do Hoe (ending of ep 7)) 안 울께 난 그칠께 난 I won't cry. I will stop (crying). 제발 녹지마 Please don't melt. 차갑게 나 영원히 나 있을께 Coldly, endlessly, I'll be here. 제발 녹지마 Please, don't melt. (Shin Ju Yeong (ending of ep 8)) 봄이 안 오면 너 안 갈래 If spring doesn't come, you don't want to go. 평생 안 울면 너 안 갈래 If I/you never cry again, you don't want to go. 어떡해야 널 다시 안을지 What should I do to be able to hold you again? 아니 ,내가 안으면 또 사라질까 No, will you disappear once more, if I hug you? 안 울께 나 그칠께 난 I won't cry. I will stop (crying). 제발 녹지마 Please, don't melt.