#WILL AND BELLE SUPREMACY

[buglover77]

If I speak I’m in trouble

[rjalker]

The archived version of the post where prismatic-bell threatened to doxx an indigenous person for calling out blatant ableism against addicts is here., since prismatic-bell finally figured out that keeping this post around is maybe a bad idea if you claim to be a good person.

"https://web.archive.org/web/20210711031136/https://prismatic-bell.tumblr.com/post/655964409600114688/your-opinions-on-drug-users-are-disgusting-and#notes"

[head---ache]

Random doodles of my dear girlies + light amgst for the live & learn au

[somewhatsentientspellbook]

zathuda may be a zather, but he'll never be a zaddy

[lumpy-veev]

A comic I made for me and my friend's auuuu. Poco's on the run from some nasty people, so he joined the Goldarm Gang. It was a good month or two! Until the past caught up.

(Feel free to ask questions if you wanna know more!)

[wordy-little-witch]

If there was one thing he absolutely fucking hated, it was a lack of meticulous control. One may think that was the antithesis of a private who made a name for himself with weaponized whimsy and catastrophic collateral, wrong though they were. Life was a meticulous dance, choreographed and studied from his earliest years. To know was to survive, he learned early on, earlier still than the year he spent with a captain, a crew, a brother. He had plans to make it, to live, to thrive - no matter the cost.

It had been in his years of relative peace, East Blue Big Fish as his profession, when it all began crashing, burning, and imploding.

He clung to what he could in the suddenly tumultuous waters. It was bittersweet, the way he seemed to shed his skin with the passage of the Twin Peaks. Making contact with Crocus was a point of refusal, pain still raw and jagged even decades later. The moment the Big Top settled into the chaotic waters of the Grandline, he felt something dead, something buried, something never forgotten despite his efforts - it stirred, it woke, and Buggy breathed.

His crew was ready for this. He was certain of it, despite their blundering ways; they were ready, because he refused to let anyone join the ranks if they lacked the drive to survive. It was easy to coach them gently through Haki drills, to twist the formulas and create something new, something grand. He was not a monster, and only mortals filled his crew. They were easily snuffed out - which made their survival all the more telling with each passing year.

Buggy was a meticulous, obsessive planner - he needed to have a backup for every backup, an escape for every single angle. His anxiety was unmatched, and his paranoia was limitless. Despite it keeping him alive, it had an unfortunate tendency to kick into overdrive, leaving him to stagger, fall and suffer in its frenzied wake.

It was this which Buggy found himself ensnared in early one summer morning. The Guild was bustling, running on the fruits of the clown's manic labor. Days had bled together, he admitted silently to himself, and time had seemed to dilate again, leaving him uncertain of what, exactly, had all been done. His sporadic notes were not much help either. All he could gather was that there were likely some serious hype, some dawning plot, and a lot of screaming from himself. He definitely overdid it again.

Sipping his tea, he frowned, rubbing the sleep from his eyes. There was a weight in his lap, a lavender maned head pinning him to the chair by his window. He'd long since learned not to argue with Ritchie Watch - even if he split himself to escape, the lion would find his feet and chase him down regardless. It was easier to simply wait him out, Buggy mused, scratching at an ear. Luckily, it seemed the feline's sixth sense was attuned primarily to fevers - once his own dropped suitably, it was smooth sailing.

Soulful brown eyes peeked up from beneath pastel hair, and Ritchie yawned, nuzzling closer to Buggy's stomach. The captain sipped his honeyed tea with a slight smile, petting fondly over his head. The cloak draped loosely around his shoulders slipped slightly as he shifted, deep violet pooling around his bicep. The mug in his hand was black, peonies etched into it around the handle with a glossy ruby finish to the petals. The teapot on the table was partially filled with a particular blend he favored when his vocal cords flared up, honey to the side in a dainty little set, unbecoming of pirates but painfully cute as well.

Buggy sighed silently, his throat aching, voice gone, head mildly dizzy. This fucking sucked... but at least he wasn't alone.

At least here, despite it all, he was loved.

[revvethasmythh]

FCG’s coin literally being an important magic item for him is so important to me, actually. On the one hand, because it replaces the coin Orym lost at the beginning. On the other hand, for deeply petty reasons

[redalive1899]

[danwhobrowses]

Okay sure just split the group again I'm sure nothing could go wrong this time dividing them into sub-groups to sting at high levelled and relatively unknown areas with high risk and high threat of boss level enemies in the vicinity and then go on another break to make us stew on that, it's fine IT'S FINE!

[feminism-of-course]

”Sexist thinking continues to support male domination and the violence that is a consequence. Since masses of unemployed and working-class men do not feel powerful on their jobs within white supremacist patriarchy they are encouraged to feel that the one place where they will have absolute authority and respect is in the home. Men are socialized by ruling-class groups of men to accept domination in the public world of work and to believe that the private world of home and intimate relationships will restore to them the sense of power they equate with masculinity. As more men have entered the ranks of the unemployed or receive low wages and more women have entered the world of work, some men feel that the use of violence is the only way they can establish and maintain power and dominance within the sexist sex role hierarchy. Until they unlearn the sexist thinking that tells them they have a right to rule over women by any means, male violence against women will continue to be a norm.”

bell hooks, Feminism is for everybody, 2015 ed., p.64–65

[tiefling-queer]

the more i think about it and the more i listen to different people, especially people of color, irl and online, the more convinced i am that it's just not possible to disentangle race from gender under white supremacy. one of my black coworkers is constantly treated like a time bomb for being a boisterous black man, which i compare to another black coworker who keeps to himself, speaks softly, and pitches his voice up unless he's just around one or two other people. i think about how women of color, especially intersex women of color, are denied womanhood and treated like invaders. i think about young native boys being called girls because white society genders braids feminine. i think about how degendering and overgendering happen hand in hand, how black men are seen as too masculine and demanded to perform subservience usually associated with women under patriarchy, and how black women as a class are simultaneously sexualized but also seen as too masculine. patriarchy, as a product of white supremacy, denies manhood to men of color while denying womanhood to women of color - all while labeling some as overfeminine or overmasculine, and others as subfeminine or submasculine, and the result is the same - that people of color cannot perform gender in western society without a special performance of race as well.

[tending-the-hearth]

cradling them gently in my hands

[mysunshine-youremoonlight]

baja on his blast til he taco bell is in my vocabulary forever now

good

[guulabii]

teaching to transgress, bell hooks

[ridrawsart]

Have an Ashton sketch because I suddenly remembered that I can post whatever the fuck I want to on here. ✨ 🖕 ✨

[prettybabybaby]

Some sirius non con with sweet but dumb hufflepuff reader😔😔

I’m a ravenclaw id never write this unfortunately