#and trusting the other with your life

[boingopilled69]

*sadly pacing and kicking a small rock* they don’t know about the parallels between charles and arthur in rdr2 and gilgamesh and enkidu of the epic of gilgamesh(the oldest piece of literature in human history) ((oh the humanity..))

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[cats-obsessions]

Durge and Gortash progressively playing a game of chicken as their relationship progresses where they continuously do vaguely threatening yet innocent gestures to test each other’s (dis)trust. It starts with something simple like Gortash placing his hand on Durge’s shoulder near their neck. He just wants to see the Bhaalspawn squirm, he justifies. Of course, Durge plays along- they won’t show weakness. So, it becomes a game. They do things like playing with a dagger while they talk, cutting the loose thread off each others’ shirt collar, bringing each other food or drinks with no guarantee it’s not poisoned, Durge insisting on shaving Gortash’s quickly growing beard for him after too many long nights planning. In the end, it just becomes habit, and they’ve just tricked themselves into allowing this intense domestic affection, allowing vulnerability and showing unquestioned trust. Oops. They still think it’s edgy though. Anyone else who sees it thinks they’re just married.

[triaelf9]

"how do you enjoy *insert fandom here* I hear they're the worst"

Find the ppl who enjoy the thing you like the way you do. Ignore, mute or block the ppl who don't.

Ta-Da~

[boygirlctommy]

i love the bit from oct 17 2020 when tommy and quackity trapped wilbur in a cobblestone box to keep him from pressing the button... wilbur punching through the blocks with his bare hand to try to get to the button... tommy frantically replacing the block in front of him yelling for quackity to do something... the moment when tommy stops, blocks the exit, and tells wilbur to do it. press the button. but then theyd die with him. quackitys like "wait, wait-" but tommy holds his ground and wilbur. ohh wilbur. "why'd you have to make it so hard?"

[mikakuna]

imagine being so insensitive that you would blame a child for their death and openly talk about how badly behaved they were right in front of their grave. oh and on said child's birthday-- the day he would've turned 18 years old. you spend your first official late child's 18th birthday calling him brash and impulsive, implying he got himself murdered, instead of mourning the fact that today is the day your dead son would've reached a major milestone in his life.

[shmreduplication]

see picture of giant artichoke restaurent building on tumblr.edu

reverse image search and find out it's in california (you live in californa)

find out there is an artichoke festival 2 hrs drive from you but you already missed it this year

plan to go next year

buy the hat (and book) from the online store because you love artichokes and are definitely going next year so it's ok to break the rule of "go to a location/event before buying a hat"

don't feel good and don't have the necessary Driving Endurance built up to make it there and back so you miss the festival :(

oh well there is next year

spend the year going on many 1hr and longer drives

your mom is in town for a few weeks and it overlaps with the festival, she also loves artichokes and instilled your love of artichokes in you

like two weeks ago she said she got a deal for a hotel near it so let's drive down saturady, have a nice dinner, then go on sunday

bring the hat you bought over a year ago and have a lovely time, eat artichokes steamed grilled fried cupcaked and taco'ed :)

don't eat the burgered meatstuffed or breadbowled artichokes because they would have been too filling for you to have eaten all the other artichokes

see a video about the history of artichokes in californai and it has a picture of the restaurant from tumblr!

look up restaurant and it's on the way home! barely out of the way at all!

wear the hat to take a picture with the restaurant!

???

profit

[ohitslen]

Promises

He should know better. 

Wolfwood has seen Vash make promises, or hear about the ones he has made in the past. He has also seen the end of each one and how every single time the outcome is less than what was promised. 

Vash likes to say embellished words, with a soft and determined voice that lures you into his hopes and dreams, it almost feels like a spell, as if he was calling for you to come closer and believe him. But Wolfwood knows better.

He believes in him, but Vash is much closer to being an idealistic dreamer than a realistic person like he is. He might not be aware of it, but his beautiful promises of a better future give people hope, a hope that is usually embraced with things like disappointment and abandonment. 

He doesn’t think that Vash does it with the intent of looking for any of those things. Far from it, he might even do the impossible in order to accomplish said promises, but life is too short and humans are too mortal for his wishes, so in the end, most of Vash’s promises end up being empty or they come to haunt him as a reminder of his failed vows. He admires the man, for his perseverance and idealism, but he also hates the man, for his stubbornness and lies. 

Wolfwood knows all of this perfectly to a tee. And yet, he has also found himself being drawn to his world. Because he also dreams of it.

A world in where his always present calls for love and peace exist, a world that is far more kind than what he might deserve, a world in where the kids can be happy and roam around without any worry in their heads, a world in where he can peacefully turn grey with age and his hands can shed the harsh callouses of his life. Who knows, maybe a world in where he and Vash can finally know the peace that was taken away from them, in where they can share the calmness that comes with the passage of time, indulging in every tick of the clock welcoming with open arms whatever comes their way without any fear.

It is a beautiful promise. But Wolfwood is a person that has to keep his feet on the ground, indulging in “what ifs” would only make things harder than what they had to be. He can’t have any ifs if he can’t make it through the now. And by the way he is carrying his present, he is doubtful he will even get to see a shed of that promised world that Vash tries to drag him into. So why mourn something he doesn’t even have, or will ever have for that matter.

He hates the way Vash seems to promise things so easily. His tongue silky and pliant, slipping divine words one after the other, promises way too big for what that barren world can actually fit. 

But when Vash talks to him in that holy voice of his, when he hears him say “It’s okay, everything will be alright, I promise” so gently right on his ear, while he holds his face so tenderly making him focus on him and nothing else, he wants to believe him.

He has seen the end of his promises. He knows how impossible they are. But for once, he wants to believe it too. Believe in that loving world that will cradle them both until they fall asleep, listening to the soft sound of the wind laughing while the moons smile upon them. 

So he allows himself to indulge in the warmth of his palms, leaning into the comfort of his existence, feeling the soft air of Vash’s breaths against his skin while their foreheads meet in a touch that feels like a hot brand that will melt him.

For an instant, he allows himself to be selfish and believe that maybe, that is how living in that world Vash so desperately fights for would be. Soft and warm, making him feel safe in the hollow of Vash’s hands where the world seems to fit so well. A world where the blue sky is a blanket that covers the love and care that is nestled in it like the one in Vash’s eyes. He wants to see that world.

For now, he will selfishly think that the world that fits in Vash’s hands is right there in where he is holding him, where his blue eyes are drowning in the light of the sunset dripping with love and care while looking at him, that the gentle touch of Vash’s thumb wiping his tears is the same as the kiss of that laughing wind in that distant future, where the smile of his eyes overcomes the smile of the moons.

He should know better. But he loves the thought of that world. And he hopes that Vash will get to see that world, because that gentle sight is more fitting for someone like him than the one of his violent world.

He promises to himself that he will do what it takes for that day to be possible. Even if the end of that promise will be empty for Nicholas, he knows it will be a full one for Vash. So it really isn’t that empty for him after all.

He hates his lies, and he hates how true they sound, but Vash’s embellished words are far sweeter than his bitter thoughts so they feel better on his insides, almost like a balm that cares for the wounds of his throbbing, painful reality.

He should know better.

But aren’t humans weak at the promise of love?

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Smell Check [Easy: Failure]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 1 (part 2 - part 3)

[yusakiiiii]

The Crossover really was something. Here’s one of my favourite interactions. What’s yours?

Scott: I hate the gays!

*Joe Hills begins shooting Scott*

Scott: Joe I can say that! Joe I am gay!

Joe Hills: Okay, so not everybody has that context. My viewers don’t know that. I don’t know that.

Scott: I am very gay which is why I’ve said that Joe.

Joe Hills: That is a valuable bit of context to provide

Scott: I’m aggressively homosexual. I’m very aggressively homosexual Joe I thought everyone knew. It’s kinda my brand.

Joe Hills: There’s a lot of inter-audience cross pollination right now.

Scott: I did appreciate the aggressive nature you took right away though, that was a good ally.

Joe Hills: I do what I can.

Scott: I thought Joe when I said I’m gonna say the one slur I can you’d have picked up.

Oli: Did you say a slur?

Scott: No I didn’t. I said when Jimmy was copying me I was tempted to do it and then I said “I hate the gays” and then Joe decided to shoot me cos he didn’t realise I was gay. Even though I’m aggressively homosexual.

Joe Hills: I don’t have time to know every gay person!

If you want to watch this properly. Go to the 2:40:00 mark in this video: https://www.youtube.com/live/2heYeEOTqrw?si=a1urB22nQZZPq_tk

[sincerely-sofie]

*Skitters up to you on all fours and drops this in your lap, then scrambles up the walls and onto the ceiling and immediately falls asleep*

Comic time! Lucky wakes up in the middle of the night and has a chat with Sen in this one.

[an-oddlyfluffycarpet]

Watched the true Potential episodes again.

[shyhandart]

wanted to show you my rainbowglider kid so far! just a WIP ☺️

Holy crap! Alternate universe siblings!!

This is Caustic Phantom, but everyone they know calls them tommy :3

[uncanny-tranny]

It's just... odd to me, I suppose, going from "what is in my pants is completely irrelevant to most anybody else's life" to the expectation that you must be completely open, essentially, about what is in your pants.

I think a lot of people understand the general idea of why it's bad decorum to demand people offer explanations for private information like this, but they don't analyze exactly why it's bad besides, "asking directly is just rude" and not "asking in any way still enforces the often violent nature of gender and sex, and putting people in the 'right box' is a part of that violence."

It's especially odd when seeing other trans people enforcing the idea that "what's in your pants?" is a genuine, good-faith basis for interacting with others.

[lightningidle]

Fig's line "I don't think I'm an artist, I think I'm just a good friend" has not left my head at all. Just...

You're Fig Faeth and your horns came in over the summer and you pick up the bard class as a form of adolescent rock 'n' roll rebellion, and it works! It's exactly the outlet you need! You give a guy you just met drumsticks and you start a band and it's good enough that within a year and a half you're touring. You are, in every sense, good at being a bard.

And then, finally, your junior year, you start to take it seriously. Your art goes from an outlet and a form of rebellion to a practice. A discipline. (Can rebellion exist within a discipline?) Your classmates know what they want to do with their work. They all have a thesis statement. And yeah, there's cohesion in the music you make, but you've never had to think about why you make it. You've never sat down and dissected what it is about bass that speaks to you. You've never poured over your lyrics to pick at any deeper meaning. Why should you? You don't play music for a grand design, you do it to... huh, why do you do it?

(Your art is the one form of self-expression that feels as safe as Disguise Self does, because even if you're pouring your heart onto the page and then screaming it in front of thousands of people, it's not like you're really making yourself known. You can sing I'm lonely, I'm scared, I'm furious, and your fans will sing it right back, and there will still be the distance between performer and audience to keep your heart safe.)

Now you're being asked to look inward to explain the artistic choices you're making, and you can't help but recoil at that, because you'd rather do anything than look inward. Meanwhile, your classmates have no problem with it, so you start to wonder if you're a real artist at all. Can your art be authentic if it only exists to bolster a thesis statement? Has your art been unauthentic this whole time because you've never really thought about a thesis statement before? Is that what makes it art, and not just the next track on somebody's teen angst playlist?

You can't think about yourself— acknowledging your own existence makes you want to puke. So if your music is an extension of yourself, (and it is, even if it's just because the spotlight reveals only what you want it to,) you can't think about your music. You can't. You have to. Your grade depends on it.

You're Fig Faeth, and you keep multiclassing because you'd rather be a good friend than a great artist. If introspection is what great art demands, then fuck it. You must not be a bard at all.

[mantisgodsdomain]

More notes for Roach conlanging. Roach has grammatical gender, in which only Male, Female, and Object are grammatical genders, whereas Worker uses feminine grammar, Queen and King use a slight variant on feminine grammar, and Drone, and Queen-Alate use masculine grammar. This is because King is derived from Queen, due to their similar positions in a colony, and Queen-Alate is derived from Drone, as both are forms of alate.

Queen is an alteration of feminine grammar that functionally just adds a handful of extra syllables to it, and King is an offsprout of Queen that uses the same grammar with different pronouns. Queen-Alate, despite the name, is derived from Drone, as they are both for referring to different types of alate ant.

Most Roach dialects are intelligible to speakers of Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach, but Snakemouth Den Cordyceps Roach is not entirely intelligable to speakers of Roach dialects due to a mix of the excessively specialized vocabulary caused by the specific needs of its speakers, the fact that its speakers do not necessarily have Roach mouthparts and thus may not pronounce syllables in a similar way, and due to the fact that Inanimate Object is a full grammatical gender that does not exist in any other dialect of roach and replaces a decent chunk of terminology for things that previously had Other Words For Them.