#and grandma was mean to me

[catmonsterscupcakes]

i haven’t been here in a while. life feels really weird and everything keeps changing. i have an internship for my major even after i graduated. i start in 2 weeks. I know ive been constantly scared of growing up and getting older since i was a child, but ever since i turned 21 during the pandemic its gotten worse. every year i mentally countdown the months until my birthday and it’s exhausting; its always like “ x months until im x age and never this young again”. ive just always been so scared of getting older, esp bc im a woman, and society hates older women. i think because im black, gay, a woman, and neurodivergent i feel as if youth is the only privilege i have, and with each passing hour its being stripped from me. i’m really scared. i’m really scared of turning 25 because thats the big number. it’s the number ppl use in online discourse abt adults in fandoms and how they shouldn’t be there anymore. it’s when ur not considered early 20’s anymore, it’s when u only have 5 years left til ur 30 and ur not allowed to make mistakes. i’m so scared. and i’ve never even dated before bc im still in the closet, and i can’t come out bc both sides of my family are super religious and will hate me. i’ve known ive like girls for 10 years and never had a teenage romance, or a college romance bc i went to college in my hometown and it was too risky. im not even particularly good at anything, i love art but im bad at time management and get discouraged easily so i haven’t reached my full potential. i could’ve been so good if i kept practicing. i basically coasted through school and i could’ve done so much better. if i hadn’t been so depressed during high school i could’ve actually gotten into a school outside my hometown or state and gone there. i’ve lived in the same place my whole life and im bored. if i did better in college maybe id have a shot at grad school or atleast more options. but now i have an internship, a full time one, for the entire summer. and then after that i have to find more work, and then more work, and then i’ll work until i die. and i’ll never have any fun youthful college experiences or teenage experiences to look back on. i lost my teens to mental illness, and i lost my early 20’s to the pandemic and then worse mental illness. i wish the pandemic never happened, i had just started at a 4 year college at 20, and was doing good and then it hit, and i got worse. this was really long, and no one will probably read this. but i had to let it out. i feel like no one in my life gets me. i’ve been so mentally ill for so long that everyone is numb to it. and i don’t even feel comfortable with my therapist bc ive had her since i was 15 and i have to eventually find a new one bc she specializes in adolescents and im her oldest client. i’m even too old for my therapist now.

[mohntilyet]

i promise i am not veering into caterina apologism i think lucanis and illario fans should unionise to kill her. but it is sooooo fun to me to think of how all her children and almost all her grandchildren are dead and all the terrible, abusive lessons she taught (presumably that she herself was taught by her own parents) were for nothing. it didn’t make them strong enough to survive in the crows. and then she becomes guardians to lucanis and illario and she carries the guilt and the cycle continues. the lessons just have to be even harder this time, and then it will stick. what it creates instead is a man who doesn’t want anyone to suffer as he did, and the spare who is convinced what happened to his family was inevitable. house dellamorte is so cooked

[soosoosoup]

even more critters: broz

[maki-nsi]

I believe Drarry made me enjoy Romione purely because of how often Romione appears as a side pairing to Drarry.

[trash-and-trash-accessories]

Constantly citing this article and the studies it uses.

Here's a quote:

"That study shows that transmasculine individuals were actually more likely to be victims of childhood sexual assault, adult sexual assault, dating violence, domestic violence, and stalking than were transfeminine individuals (as shown in the chart below).

The only category in which trans women were more likely to be victimized was by hate violence, and even there the difference was small: 30 percent of trans women reported having experienced hate violence, compared to 29 percent of trans men."

[stuckinapril]

sorry if this is a weird question, but i was wondering if you knew respectful words in arabic when talking to older women? ive been talking with Palestinian women in Gaza, and it always feels wrong or rude to call them by first name esp since im young. maybe its just the east asian in me but was curious if theres any cultural respect norm that i should know here since its hard to find online

OHH this is tough bc the Iraqi in me grew up referring to older women by “khala” or “ama” which is literally just the Arabic word for aunt …….. and most times it goes well but sometimes women take offense to it bc they’re like I’m NOT that old lmao I love Arab women

[respectthepetty]

I was showing up for whatever YinWar and Dee Hup were going to give me in Jack & Joker: U Steal My Heart, but now that I've watched the trailer, I'm seated, sat, and sitted.

First off, LOOK AT THIS!

LOOK AT IT!

Yin and War have always been pretty, but to have them in a show where they can and will fuck each other up is what my dreams are made of.

Just beautiful men trying to put other beautiful men in chokeholds. Bless.

But there also seems to be some bad bitches in this club!

So I have no idea who is "good" and who is "bad"

And I think that is something the show is leaning into since Joke destroyed Jack's life, setting Jack on a dark path, yet Joke is trying to make up for his past wrongs. Nobody is bad. Nobody is good. Everyone is just trying.

Except this dude. He just seems very bad.

Although I don't know about Hope since he was fighting other beautiful men as well.

And because I'm rooting for a Mark x Prom kiss, I'm hoping if the show does make Aran an actual bad guy, he'll at least be a bad guy who Tattoo wants to make out with eight times a day, morning, noon, and night.

Because Tattoo and Hoy deserve a little treat after being born with the curse of poverty, threatened, and beaten up.

And seeing Joke in a blonde wig and a tight shirt doesn't count as a little treat.

But beyond the plot, I'm showing up for the colors!

Joke is a Red Rascal who causes havoc wherever he goes.

And Jack is the Blue Boy turned Black Brooder after Joke flipped his life upside down.

I'm already unwell about this dynamic.

Because it is the great color-coded pair where one is spontaneous and energetic and the other is calculated and reserved.

And they will easily feed into each other.

So after a bit, it'll be hard to see where one ends,

And the other begins.

So even though there will be tears,

And I'm praying nothing happens to the grandma,

I know all will end well.

Because color-coded boys in love get happy endings (in their color-coded blankets).

It's science.

[indigoartistqueen]

WIND NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO

art credit @/linkeduniverse

[temeyes]

Please take this healing plant of my ancestors to cure your hands soon! We love you!

AAAA thank you, bestie!! gosh i really need some of those right now, and soap too actually.

my right hand's a bit okay now btw!! but it's my left hand's turn to act up now. so any help would be so Nice,,,

[amygdalae]

ENOUGH with the sword grandma

[myokk]

💘

[spinjitsuburst]

“Nya and Jay both never say a word to the other ninja about Skybound” are you telling me Nya doesn’t TELL KAI THAT SHE DIED. ARE YOU TELLING ME NYA DOESN’T SEEK OUT HER BIG BROTHER AFTER A NIGHTMARE OR MENTAL BREAKDOWN OR IF HER CHEST IS A LITTLE TOO TIGHT THAT DAY. ARE YOU TELLING ME KAI CAN LOOK AT THE PERSON HE CARES ABOUT MORE THAN ANYONE IN THE WORLD AND NOT INSTANTLY KNOW SOMETHING IS DEEPLY, HORRIBLY WRONG??

THESE TWO RAISED EACH OTHER. NYA WOULD NOT KEEP THIS FROM HIM I AM PHYSICALLY INCAPABLE OF BELIEVING THAT

[burningcheese-merchant]

Wake up, BurningCheese/GoldenSpice babes, new poorly drawn blorbos just dropped

They look cooler in my head, I swear.

the images didn't show up the first time wtf lol

The kids are finally here, yay. I promised I'd show you them, and I finally stopped being an asshole and followed through. Almost got 200 followers and I'm very grateful for it - really, I'm nobody. I'm just some clown who says dumb stuff and makes dumb memes and writes cringey stories, and yet I convinced almost 200 people to tune in. Thank you all so much, users on here and anons in my inbox alike. As a token of appreciation, you can all endure my rambling about my OCs and witness a person in their early 20s draw like a 12 year old.

The boy is Pepper Jack (or Pepper Jack Cookie). He's the firstborn and older than his sister by a few years. He takes after his mother in a lot of ways, primarily in her appearance (save for nabbing his father's red eyes). He's incredibly bright (and a smartass lol), preferring to think his way out of conflict rather than fight his way out... not that he's above violence at all, if that glaive doesn't give it away lol. He harbors a deep sense of love and loyalty towards his family and his peoples, and carries the weight of his responsibilities and heritage with as much confidence and poise as he can muster. (There are/will be times where he stumbles, of course. He's not perfect. He struggles a lot more than he lets on, really. But he tries his best, for everyone's sake.)

The girl is Matar Paneer (or Matar Paneer Cookie). Again, she's the younger one by a few years. She was all but made in her father's image, save for inheriting her mother's eyes. She's a little firecracker: lively and fun-loving and stubborn as a mule. She doesn't ask "can I have/do this thing", she tells you "I'm going to have/do this thing". Golden is proud as anything to see her daughter be so greedy... until that greed comes into conflict with her and Spice's authority lol. But she's a good kid, despite being such a handful. She has an enormous heart and is not afraid to stand up for others/what's right, and she loves her parents and brother more than anything in the world. She might doubt her own capabilities, she might secretly fear that she's not strong enough to do what she needs to... but she keeps pushing anyway, because she'd honestly choose death over quitting.

Your eyes are not deceiving you, Pepper Jack's wings are blue lol. There's an actual reason for that. And that USO (Unidentified Sitting Object) in Matar Paneer's hair is a lotus (the cheese one in the GCK decor set lol). There's a reason for that, too. I thought it would be cool to give Jack a glaive and swap out the normal blade for that of a khopesh sword (glaives are not Egyptian, they only saw use in Asia and Europe, but I just HAD to give him a glaive), to add that Egyptian touch. Paneer's supposed to be wearing a pattu pavadai, it's a traditional Indian dress for young girls. It's a blouse plus a skirt. She's holding katar, Indian knives (Cilantro Cobra has them, too). And her hair's supposed to be in a low ponytail.

Merchant thinks that if they explain what their terrible drawings are supposed to convey, people will understand their intended vision and the pain will stop

I sat down and did research into both Egyptian and Hindu mythology for the sake of drawing inspiration for them both. I'll explain in detail in another post, but basically: both of them take after one Egyptian god and one Hindu god each. Golden takes after Ra and Spice takes after Shiva, so I figured I'd follow along that line.

Please flood my inbox with questions about them now. I've really been dying to talk about them for ages now. I've drafted extensive character sheets for them both, I even made up in-game descriptions for them lol. They're my little fankid blorbos and I love them :') I hope you all come to love them, too

(Also, I'm sorry they're on lined paper. I'm visiting family rn and that's the only paper my grandmother has in her house. I'd have to drive to a stationery to get printer paper and I'd really rather not drive in this particular country lol (shit roads, even shittier drivers). I'll doodle them on printer paper whenever somebody remembers to bring me some)

[jellojolteon]

Now that you've made it to the autumn of

Your years and you feel your best yet

-The Bottom of It, Fruit Bats

Izuocha week 2024 Day 6: Cycle/Miracle

[shalomniscient]

i just woke up, it’s 7am and i’m having thoughts about jingliu…

if there was one person on the luofu who knew jingliu the longest, it was you. not the high cloud quintet or the cloud knights, you. the daughter of jingliu’s master, and the stubborn sword champion’s personal healer. she entered your life as a gangly, hungry girl who could barely hold a sword in both hands—and now, she’s the greatest warrior the luofu has ever seen.

but more importantly, now, she’s your wife.

it seemed almost like an inevitability, that you’d fall for her. for all that she was your mother’s disciple, you didn’t see her much as children. jingliu would always be training, and you would always be studying. it was only after she became a member of the cloud knights, and you a member of the alchemy commission, that things would really start to blossom—like a lotus flower, bright and pure.

you were the only healer jingliu really trusted and even allowed to heal her. the warrior had a stubborn streak several miles wide, but perhaps it was the echo of your mother in you that had her obediently heeling to your treatments—a fact that always awed her fellow cloud knights, who teased her relentlessly about it. “whipped,” they’d say. jingliu would only grumble and grudgingly thank you, before leaving the clinic and decidedly and publicly putting every one of her squadmates on their asses during a sparring match.

but nonetheless, it is no one but jingliu who comforts you when teng xiao arrives at your door, a set of armor folded neatly in his arms, and a grim, apologetic look on his face. that night it is jingliu who sits by your side, letting you weep into her shoulder as she awkwardly and clumsily attempts to console you. grief burns through you like a wildfire, but jingliu is there, her presence soothing and cool like moonlight. you both fall asleep tangled in each other’s arms, finding that, if nothing else, there is comfort in shared loss.

the next morning, you ask her about it as you both still hold each other close. jingliu’s mouth opens and closes, struggling to choose the right words. “i swore to her that i’d protect you,” she answers. it makes you smile, just a little, even if grief still twists sharply in your heart.

“you’re protecting me by cuddling me?” you tease her, and her pale cheeks flush.

“that’s— i believed you might have needed—“ she stammers, and you cut her off by pressing closer against her cool body.

“i’m just teasing,” you whisper against her skin, arms tightening around her muscular form. as if to ground yourself, as if to assure yourself that she’s really here. “i appreciate it, jingliu. thank you.”

at your words, the warrior relaxes. her voice is barely higher than yours when she replies, tinged with a hint of tenderness. “of course.”

jingliu is different, after that. you guess that it’s because you are all she has left—much the same in how she is all you have left. there is a gentle awkwardness to her now, like someone who has never known how to be soft trying to learn for the first time. she sits patiently as she lets you fuss over her wounds, knowing that you need this, that you need to know she’s alright. she only looks away when you get a little too close, when she can feel the warmth of your breath on her skin, and she hopes you don’t notice (you do).

she comes to the house whenever she can, which feels just a little emptier without your mother’s commanding presence. she stands shoulder to shoulder next to you at the counter making dumplings, her rough, battle-scarred hands dwarfing your own more delicate ones—but she wraps the dumplings with finesse all the same. you eat them together, quietly, but the silence is comfortable. you know each other enough that words are unnecessary. these nights you can only ever fall asleep in her arms—and she can only ever fall asleep in yours. neither of you question it, but what is there to question anyway?

jingliu ends up being many of your firsts—including your first kiss. it happens on one of those nights, tangled in each other’s arms, with nothing but a sliver of moonlight to illuminate jingliu’s pale face. you feel her pulse jump under your touch, as your thumb traces the ridge of her cheekbones and your lips press gently against hers. kissing her is nothing grand, no fireworks or butterflies—just the quiet sense of finally coming home.

jingliu is your first time, too. her hands trail down your body with reverence, lips pressing kisses like prayers against your skin. she brings you to the edge of heaven with her fingers and her mouth until you lie boneless on the sheets. she kisses you while your essence is still smeared across her lips, and you eagerly return the favor.

jingliu is your first and only love. it’s the soft, quiet kind, more of a respite than a whirlwind in and of itself. a shelter where both of you can return to, when the world becomes too much. you’re there for each other at the lowest lows and the highest highs—jingliu attends the ceremony as you’re sworn in as the cauldron master of the alchemy commission, eyes trained only on you as you accept the honor. and you attend jingliu’s ascenscion ceremony for the title of sword champion, standing at the forefront of the crowd, a proud smile on your face. to jingliu, that is her true victory.

and yet, even as the sword champion, there are still things she fears—like telling you she loves you. it takes a grand amount of coaxing from her new friends—a blacksmith, a high elder, and a pilot, respectively—before she works up the courage. she whispers it against your neck one moonlit night, intertwined with you in the sheets. her voice trembles ever so slightly, her breath fanning unevenly against your skin, and she tenses when you laugh softly. but the tension bleeds out of her immediately when you say it back, and she slumps against you, as if the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders.

(baiheng and yingxing later force her to buy them drinks, and she does so, grudgingly. after all, they were right when they said there was no way you’d say anything other than ‘i love you too’. dan feng only attends for the free alcohol, but he is happy for her nonetheless.)

your marriage is a quiet affair—or as quiet as it can get, with baiheng and yingxing together on the guestlist. but it is perfect, to you and jingliu. the rings were crafted by yingxing, inlaid with stones baiheng discovered along the trailblaze. neither of you actually wear them on your fingers due to your jobs, but none other than dan feng gifts the both of you corded red rope to loop the rings through and wear as a necklace. it becomes your greatest treasure, even centuries down the line.

the next few months of your life are calm and routine—until jingliu returns home one day with a teenager, of all things. the boy has long, shaggy, white hair, and curious golden eyes. He reminds you of a cat.

“this is jing yuan,” jingliu introduces to you. “my disciple.”

the boy greets you politely, before jingliu sends him off to an empty room in your home for him to claim as his own. once the boy is out of sight, you turn to jingliu, quirking a brow.

“disciple?”

she nods. “yes. i believe he has potential.”

you only hum at her answer, stepping forward to fix her collar. she lets you fuss, as you always have, and then presses her lips against yours gently, her hands on your waist. “trust me,” she whispers, and you do.

jing yuan fits into your life more easily than you expected. a sharp-witted young man, quick with a blade but even quicker with his words. it isn’t long before you grow fond of him as well—in an almost parental sort of way. before you realise, you start fussing over him the way you fuss over jingliu. it seems you’re not the only one susceptible to jing yuan’s charm, since the newly formed high cloud quintet adore him just as much—baiheng, especially, is delighted to have another little brother figure besides yingxing. jingliu is no exception; the pride in her gaze as she watches jing yuan train is visible to anyone.

nowadays, your home feels fuller. it is no longer just you and hingliu making dumplings—another pair of hands, sometimes even another three appear to help. the dinner table is full more often than not, and there always seems to be more plates in the sink. sometimes you find purple fur on the floor, or the occasional jade-like scale in between your couch cushions. but joy, you learn, is fleeting. nnd no one ever notices it is here until it is gone, ripped from your hands before you can even blink.

jingliu is your first and only love. she is also your first and only heartbreak.

everything you’ve built with jingliu over the course of centuries crumbles in a matter of days. the battle against shuhu is vicious. you can barely even keep up against the constant stream of injured that flood the alchemy commission. you and your colleagues down energising pill after energising pill to stay on your feet and support the xianzhou forces. tet the news from the frontline would nonetheless bring you to your knees.

baiheng, dead. yingxing, cursed. dan feng, imprisoned. and worst of all—

jingliu, mara-struck.

the ten lords commission keep her under strict watch in a holding cell. you barely have the time to visit, what with the number of patients that demand your attention. jing yuan is the one who visits her, by his authority as the new arbiter general. he speaks to you when he can, updates you on her condition—but you’ve treated enough cases to know when something is bad, even if jing yuan tries to assuage you with purposefully vague wording.

she barely recognises you when you approach her. her beautiful ruby eyes are covered by a ragged, black cloth. thick, metal bindings encircle her wrists and restrain her arms behind her back. you call her name, quietly, gently, trying your hardest to stifle the tremble in your voice. sometimes, there is a flicker of recognition. most of the time, there is nothing.

you return to an empty house. it’s so, so cold, and your bed is far too big. you hold tightly to your ring, praying that jingliu be spared this fate. but the aeon does not listen.

because no more than a few months later, jingliu breaks free from her confinement, and rampages across the luofu. smoke chokes the air as ice and frigid wind sweeps across the epicenter that is jingliu. but instead of running away, you run towards her. the ice seems to part and melt before you as you run. you need to see her.

instead, all you witness is the majesty of the lightning lord, as he strikes down your beloved.

nothing remains of jingliu. they find no body, not even any remnants of armor or personal effects. after that, they strike her name from every record for her dishonor. all her achievements, her victories—erased. as if she never existed. you are forced to resign as cauldron master in shame, with your apprentice dan shu taking your place.

you feel… nothing. only a pervasive, parasitic emptiness spreading through your entire being. you spend your days in a bed in a guest room—you can’t bring yourself to set foot in the room you once shared with her. the kitchen lies deserted. you barely feel hunger or thirst, or any sort of sensation. and yet, you keep living. your cells respire and your lungs draw breath, and your heart still thumps in your chest—even as your soul rots and decays.

the only thing—or person, rather—that stirs you now somewhat is jing yuan. he has lost everyone too, this general who will always be that curious-eyed boy to you. you do your best to pick yourself up; if not for yourself, then for him.

(but jing yuan knows. he sees it in your eyes, the truth of the matter. the guilt that gnaws at you, that compels you to keep fussing over him.

you think that caring for him will help you atone for the way you failed jingliu. he wants to tell you that his master would’ve never thought such a thing. but he doesn’t, and lets you mother him all the same.

he needs this too.)

jing yuan appoints you as his personal healer, even as his advisors protest. they question your ability—after all, how could a good healer not even mend the one she loved most?

that moment is the first and last time you ever see jing yuan angry. it fades as quickly as it comes, however, and you are appointed as his personal healer nonetheless. you remain by his side for the next few centuries, watching as he grows more and more into the role of the general. the pain of your loss doesn’t heal—not fully, at least, but it scabs over.

still, you can’t help the ache in your chest when jing yuan approaches you one day, a young boy at his heels.

“this is my disciple, yanqing,” he introduces. the boy has flaxen hair, and expressive amber eyes. there’s a fire in them, a determination that you remember seeing in a pair of ruby ones. he greets you, politely and a little shyly.

it’s a painfully familiar scene, and the best you can manage is a wordless smile.

yanqing becomes another target of your fussing soon enough. he squirms when you check him over for injuries, insisting that he’s fine. the boy is incorrigibly stubborn. but in the end, he is still a boy. his enthusiasm, unmarred by grief and loss, brings a liveliness to your monotone life. you can’t help but sneak a few more extra strales into his pockets for swords when jing yuan isn’t looking.

(but he knows. jing yuan always knows.)

you are not happy, not truly, not without her, never without her, but for now you are content. the boys in your life give you reason enough to keep going.

yet your life turns upside down once more when the stellaron bursts on the luofu. jing yuan keeps you away from the whirlwind of conflict, assigning an elite squad of his knights to guard your house. it makes you curious, but the answer reveals itself to you only a few days after the crisis is resolved.

there, standing amidst the unconscious bodies of the cloud knights supposed to guard you, is none other than the ghost of your beloved.

she’s as beautiful as the day you lost her.

[tieflingteatime]

this completely reshaped my brain