#anyway im good im good

[glitterghost]

Trying a little sun, a little music, and a little iced coffee (espresso shot included) to shake out all the lingering fog.

[skrunglebeasts]

put three f/f ships you like in the tags. doesnt matter how obscure or embarrassing the media, go for it. and no, your m/m ship doesnt count as women

[captainsaltypear]

IS ANYONE ELSE GONNA TALK ABOUT THIS OR

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[hinamie]

morning glory

[verflares]

just how long is forever? // not long enough, with you

pssst. check this out on inprnt :]

[siyaazu]

True pacifist ending.

[may12324]

Halsin- Archdruid of the Emerald Grove

[binary-bird]

to no one's surprise i ended up liking the character struggling with her own fictionality

[sapphire-to-the-rain]

unusually and exceedingly peculiar and altogether quite impossible to describe / blonde.

+ zoomed in versions :))

[ronanxing]

heartbreaking: the worst vampire you know just became a rockstar

[walkerrenee]

sometimes i randomly remember how insane maggie stiefvater was for making ronan lynch—a man that can create reality—a man of god, when he himself is a god of a man. then to take this man and have him be not only in love with, but a literal soulmate of a man named adam. parrish. adam parrish. who, mind you, lives above ronan's very own place of worship. and is the namesake of the first of mankind that the bible says god made from the literal dust of the ground (adam parrish: comes from nothing, hair "dusty" in color) and appoints him to care for the garden of eden (adam parrish: sacrifices himself to ronan's sentient forest). then has adam viewing ronan as a god and ronan saying "maybe he dreamt (created)" adam???? like who just fucking writes that and goes about their life?

[1alchemistart]

dont got much to offer for The Holiday but have these sillies!

happy valentines day :D

[dovewingkinnie]

what if she abstracts because of caine

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

the four horsemen of Queer Agony