#apologies if anything is incorrect

[aautiemiller-rockcenter]

NYCDA Nationals Senior Solo Awards

1st-2nd Scored Above 299 3rd-6th Scored Above 298 7th-15th Scored Above 297

Erik Barker - Larkin Dance Studio!

Izzy Howard - Westside Dance Project!

Charlie Head - Downtown Dance Factory

Kendall Moshay - TopFlight Dance

Ava Luna - Dance Academy North Jersey

Koda Nayback - Artflux Dance Lab

Caleb Abea - Larkin Dance Studio

Hannah Elzbet - Performing Dance Arts

Melanie Kalogritsas - Performing Dance Arts

Ayla Rodriguez - Artistic Fusion

Alyssa Carpeneto - Performing Dance Arts

Emerson Rogers - Artistry In Motion WA

Mia Edmonds - The Dallas Conservatory

Ava Crean - Mary Alice's Dance

Nathaniel Chua - NINE Dance Academy, Olivia Gannon - New Dimensions Dance

Raina Wu - Yoko's Dance

Ava Greenwaldt - Golden State Ballet

Zada Britton - Canadian Contemporary Theatre

Noelle Hogan - Brava Dance Center Juliet Judkins - Mid-Atlantic Center

Hayley Wilson - Renner Dance Company

Jaicey Thomas - Renner Dance Company

Luke Barrett - Dance Attack Los Gatos

Malcolm Takumi - CAP The Company

McKenzie Lambert - Renner Dance Company

Jackson Conley - Hoffmans School of Dance

Audrey Zhu - Embody Dance Company

Colin Gross - The Dallas Conservatory

Ella Beatty - Patti Eisenhauer Dance

Gracen? - Artists Revealed Dance

Presli James - North Austin Dance Artists

[shoecrabs]

continuing with my Leo with prosthetics propaganda (by giving him an arm gun his little bro :))

zoomed in pics of my faves as well

[squeaker6352]

Magolor: Remember! You don't have to say 'I'm sorry' when you don't need to, okay?

Taranza: Okay! I'm sorry.

Magolor: gently cupping Taranza's face I SAID DON'T SAY SORRY!

Taranza: I'm sorry!

Magolor: AAAAAAA!

[gh0stwithagun]

if your requests are open, could i request a soviet union stimboard. yes I know weird hyperfixation. if not that's cool, thanks !

dw hun!! Its not weird, we all have things we like :) Soviet Union stimboard, requested by anon reqs open !

x x x / x x x / x x x

[intheticklecloset]

Hihi! How are you doing? If your lemonade event is still running, seeing as you haven't wrote for them, yet, could I please request romantic Fyozai, lee! Fyodor, ler! Dazai with 🍉⭐ please? Have a nice day and I understand if you can't fulfil this request!

🍋 Lemonade Special Order 🍋

~~~

“Samyy dorogoy,” Fyodor murmured, seemingly unbothered despite his position. “I know you’re not seriously about to do what I think you are.”

Dazai smirked. “Do you know? Or are you just trying not to beg me?”

“We’re supposed to be stargazing.”

“You are stargazing.”

“Am I?”

“Of course.” Dazai beamed. “What stars could be prettier than the ones in my eyes?”

Fyodor snorted, but the tiniest quirk of his lips was everything to the detective.

Their night had started innocently enough. They’d been taking in the constellations together, Fyodor’s head in Dazai’s lap in a rare gesture of intimacy the Russian almost never allowed. Dazai, for his part, had been murmuring sweet nothings and kissing his fingers and just generally getting him so relaxed that he wouldn’t be prepared for the fast one he inevitably intended to pull.

“The fast one” being forcing Fyodor’s arms above his head and sitting on them so he was trapped in a precarious position, his weakest spots wide open.

“Besides,” the detective said now, beginning his assault without any pomp or circumstance whatsoever. “It’s not like a little tickling is going to kill you or anything~”

Fyodor clamped his lips shut, but it was a useless endeavor and he knew it. Within moments he was giggling helplessly, and within a minute he was cackling, arching his back and kicking his legs in a frantic effort to escape his partner’s devious clutches.

Dazai dug into his armpits with an unfair amount of vigor, relishing the screeches and loud laughter he got for his efforts.

“There now, see? Doesn’t it feel good to laugh, my love?”

“DAHAHAHAHAHAZAI!!” Fyodor nearly screamed, unable to help the cascades of hysterical laughter that flew out of him at the detective’s precise touch. “STAHAHAHAHAHAHAP IT!! POZHAHAHAHAHAHALUSTAHAHAHAHAHA!!”

Watching his conniving, brilliant partner lost in the throes of his own mirth like this was heaven on Earth to Dazai, and so he couldn’t quite bring himself to let up so soon. “Aww, but I only just got started, bunny~ I want to hear you beg me, remember?”

Fyodor cursed his name and laughed until he was nearly breathless, writhing and pleading for mercy all the way.

[crippling-pages]

*raises hand* Asexual Tam Song, anyone?

[lea-andres]

Someone should do a horror story where the individual with DID is the protagonist.

Switching mid chase to an alter that isn't quite up to speed on wtf is happening yet. "Why are we running, what- OH SHIT THAT'S WHY!"

One alter is MUCH braver than the rest, and the most fearful alter fronts to discover the bravest one had been stealthing after the killer to see what they're up to.

Trying to quickly scrawl out a warning while disassociating because things are super fucked and that alter's desperately struggling to make sure whoever's in control next knows things are super fucked.

There's so much more material there than "hur dur multiple personalities, one of them stabby stabby".

[mlgneverdies]

Inspired by @pmkn2-0's Generator Rex AU, whether or not it takes place in it is up to you

Rex (fuming): *growls* "SHUT UP!" *deep breath* "I'm going to kill the next person I fucking see, I swear to God..."

Jenny: "Hello, hi, I'm so happy to see you!" :3

Rex (suddenly happy): "Heyyy, oh my god!" *lets his cute robot GF hug her* "Oh my god, what's going on?"

Jenny: "Wow! I'm so happy to see you!" *nuzzles his cheek* "Abababababababababa!" ^w^

[zeldacd]

The princess of power 🔺

I read twice through this fancomic recently you can read here at @alternate-triforce. I really like her design. fluffy red hair is my favorite thing ever.

[karygurl]

FFXIVWrite #5: Stamp

Aymeric wondered each time he sent a letter when it might reach her.

The Warrior of Light had never been easy to track down, not since the war ended in Ishgard and her adventures began pulling her further and further abroad. Her visits became fewer and far between, briefer, and so Aymeric began to resort to letters handed off to the postmoogles to pass on information or inquire after her. Thankfully, the furry little creatures always seemed to find their charge sooner or later.

He treasured each and every response he received, her letters tucked away neatly in his personal files at his home rather than in his office. Additionally, he'd become enamored with the stamps that accompanied those letters. They were always the first teaser of where she'd been, what explorations and adventures she might be having.

The Eorzean stamps were familiar and expected: the gold embossing of the Ul'dah stamp, the leafy veins inscribed into the paper of the one from Gridania, and the ephemeral whiff of salt air from the stamp of Limsa Lominsa. The instantly recognizable stamps from Ishgard made him smile while also lamenting that she'd been so close and yet unable to visit him.

Then the stamps came from more interesting places. Gyr Abania, a redesigned stamp used by the rebellion to reclaim their heritage. Hingashi, from halfway around the globe. Doma, with no stamp at all, sneakily sent from an imperial providence with its rebellion nearly crushed but still clinging to hope.

One response he'd received via a dream of all things, a spritely pixie with a mouth that wouldn't be out of place in the Brume updating him with pleasantries about their "precious sapling." He'd wryly made mention of his regret that this visit didn't come with its own postmark, only to find a prettily decorated little stamp in his hand in the morning, glittering with impossibly ephemeral butterfly wings. Or fae wings, he supposed.

Each stamp told a story unto itself, giving him more precious information as to her whereabouts. He wondered at this point what locales she hadn't traveled to, and if there were any, how long it would be before she crossed them off her list. And if he also wondered when her travels might bring her home to Ishgard, well, he simply kept those thoughts to himself.

[astrangelittlefool]

Thinking about how jedidiah has such specific ideas of what he Deserves and what's "supposed" to happen; he's not Supposed to be forgiven, sydney Should be mad at him etc etc that he spends so much time and energy preparing himself for what he thinks is an Inevitable Thing that Definitely Will Happen that when that doesn't happen he cries all soggily and pathetic even at what would normally be considered a positive outcome bc he doesn't know how to respond

[scarrypossmscribs]

BLD Incorrect Quotes Crack : James

~After being kidnapped~

Y/n: *incoherent sobbing*

James, cuddling Y/n in his arms: "Don't cry babe. You're home now so-"

Y/n: "My fucking rent- my downpayment."

James: "You-"

Y/n: "Oh my god- my credit score is going to drop!"

Edit for a quote i saw that would 100% fit james

James: "I'm sorry my knife could not resist stabbing you. It needs better training."

James belongs to @hotpinkmoon

[you-are-forever-special]

Your OC enters a massive bookstore. It is broken into genres and other book related items. Pick a section and tell us what they will get, if anything. -Fiction -History -Art/Fashion -Biography

(She really can't just pick one, your honor.

Lol

☆♡☆

Thank you so much, again, for the prompt! I'll never get tired of these~!)

---

Taiga was feeling over the moon.

Actually, this was probably even better than space, because space didn't have any of THIS.

Lately, she'd been fortunate enough to save up enough money to travel around the west coast. She didn't go out into public too much, but if there was a chance like this, she took it.

It had been a distant dream of hers for a while, and just like with any goal she accomplished, it felt so surreal.

Magical.

But that feeling increased when she got to Portland.

Taiga had heard a lot about this city, of course.

Most people in America especially have heard at least one thing about this place. But it felt so...

Remarkable.

Special.

Well, all cities had their own draw, in Taiga's eyes.

But certain places on the map just felt like they embraced and wholly loved your soul.

Before coming out, she had already done a bit more research and came up with a list of places she'd love to make it to, and things to do while here.

It was so satisfying to check off lists. If there was a job to just check things off lists and nothing else, she'd sign up for that in a heartbeat.

Taiga giggled to herself at that before tucking her list away, looking at her surroundings once again.

A part of her almost wondered what it'd be like to live in Oregon.

Whether to meet new ones, or come to recognize the stories of old souls living here...

It all felt so... Right.

Like she could almost feel the smiles, the tears, past strife, and overall adventures that happened around here bleeding into her as she took a breath to steel herself.

She could be incorrect, but she didn't think on it too much and just let it consume her for a while.

Besides, it still felt as if she were meant to be here in this moment. And it further encouraged her to soon move forward.

And Taiga hadn't even gotten to the infamous building's entrance yet;

Powell's City of Books

There it was before her. The almost movie theater-esque outside appearance of the building had such a charm to it that immediately drew her in. And without a second thought, she hurriedly went inside.

Taiga was beside herself.

Almost buzzing with excitement, if you will.

Some things truly needed to be experienced in person over word of mouth.

Obviously they had many books, but...

It was akin to a gorgeous labyrinth of the bittersweet, yet soothing smell of bibliosmia and hopeful spirits.

There is so much potential.

Tons of stories to be discovered and dived into.

It's like she could feel the electricity in each direction dancing on her skin.

Taiga was in her element. And she wanted to be enraptured.

If possible, she'd read every single book held in here. She was always up for a challenge like that.

Last Taiga had read, there were approximately one million books in this amazing place...

And what, the average person apparently read around 14 books a year...?

Even just trying to put that into perspective floored Taiga.

She wondered exactly how much she could get through.

But unfortunately, the human body was only capable of so much.

Even if we were technically supercomputers.

There was a comforting thought that broke through her slight melancholy at not being able to properly appreciate each story, however.

And that was the fact that someone else out there may find the book that's just right for them in that moment.

Hopefully even long after she was gone, these books, and others in the world, could continue to be there for others.

Each one could possibly be an awakening, a needed friend, an escape...

Anything.

And Taiga was so grateful that we all could have this key to opening the gateways of such opportunities in life.

Not just for books alone...

But that was another story for another time.

Taiga didn't want to get so emotional just from walking into this place, but she couldn't help who she was at heart.

And as she slowly spun and gaily strolled around Powell's, she didn't feel shame whatsoever for being herself in this moment.

As Taiga browsed, the serene atmosphere surrounding her was not disturbed.

And thankfully no one questioned her appearance.

They probably assumed she was in costume, like many people seemed to these days.

And Taiga was just fine with that.

Any anxieties weren't brought to the forefront because she was just so...

Happy.

It was like a breath of fresh air being here.

And as the rain lightly rapped at the window panes, Taiga's eyes became more half-lidded, and her warm smile grew.

She was officially in love with this place.

No other person in her life currently had ever even come close to giving her such a feeling.

And maybe some others would call that sad, but she didn't care.

It was just the truth.

And it wasn't a bad thing at all. She'd die on that hill.

Taiga refocused and pulled herself out of her thoughts for a moment as she went through the aisles, as quite a few titles on the individual spines caught her eye.

The first was a True Crime History book about this very city; Portland.

'Wicked Portland: The Wild and Lusty Underworld of a Frontier Seaport Town' by Finn J. D. John

That seemed like it was right up her alley.

And Taiga snatched it up; lightly running her dainty fingers over the cover and back of the book as she inspected it all around.

It was habit for her to read each side first before cracking one open and taking a look at the insides.

Taiga softly hummed, making sure to not get too loud and disturb anyone, as she gently tucked her first prize under one of her arms as she continued. Finding similar tightly-packed titles; 'The Mystery of the Portland Vase' by Robin Brooks, 'Mysteries and Legends of Oregon: True Stories of the Unsolved and Unexplained' by James Yuskavitch, along with one that especially piqued her interest: 'Secret Portland: A Guide to the Weird, Wonderful, and Obscure' by Jeff Brawn.

The so-called strange and what were deemed to be outcasts of the world usually drew her in, and she wanted to know more.

Everyone's story deserved to be listened to without bias.

And mysteries certainly got her brain into hyper-drive.

Unlike Sherlock Holmes, Taiga could live without having to solve every single case. Sometimes it just wasn't possible. And she knew from experience that it wasn't very helpful to drive yourself to the point of obsession, for most matters.

But she'd be lying if she said that she didn't understand that feeling and found herself pacing around at times too trying to figure it all out when there was a seemingly immovable obstacle was laid out before her or others.

Before Taiga got lost in thought once again, she then lit up even more and zoomed over in excitement as she came across the Fantasy section.

If anyone saw her, they might've laughed at how silly she looked bumbling about with these books. But Taiga was too preoccupied with being in her own little world for now to notice if there even was anyone else eyeing her.

As she looked through the titles, Taiga couldn't help but get a bit sentimental whenever seeing any stories with princesses in them, and/or superheroes...

It reminded her of her little friend Adira.

Taiga made a mental note to call her parents tonight and check in to see how they were all doing.

They loved books as well...

And Taiga also couldn't help but start thinking of getting them each a book that they might like, instead of thinking about what to get herself anymore.

For Ali she picked up a psychological thriller that had a strong lead; Cait, a gritty horror-themed manga. And for Adira, she found a new box series of another manga with magical girl elements that she knew would make the girl beam.

Looking through, it didn't seem to only be about that trope and silly escapades alone, but had a seriously gripping storyline, while still being age-appropriate for her of course.

Taiga closed the book and made her decision to get each of them, as her book stack slowly increased in size.

As she continued to move along and balance her mini tower of tomes, her little ears atop her head perked up more and her grin brightened once she noticed the section on Art/Fashion.

She wasn't extremely knowledgeable on what was fashionable or not. And she didn't exactly keep up with trends.

If Taiga liked it, she'd wear it. That was it for her.

But she did respect those who were passionate about it and who were trying to make that industry a better place as well.

It was so cool what others could come up with. And it was an art form.

Speaking of art...

This city lived and breathed it. Whether they stayed or moved... They ARE their art.

Many people were. Taiga thought every body was a stroke of genius by whichever being may be responsible, but this specific place was known for creativity in that regard.

It was so comforting seeing it all.

Art truly shall never die.

And Taiga wanted to read up on the famous artists/musicians that were born here.

After all, The Portland Art Museum was also on her list. There was no way she would miss that before going back home.

But she did have a budget, so unfortunately, she couldn't grab too many books.

There were an abundant amount of names, and pieces. Yet she was still happy for what she could grab. Taiga knew that she could revisit this section another time, or look up even more later on.

She knew that these were most likely accessible online, but for her, that couldn't beat coming to the state itself and actually physically owning the book.

She had nothing against digital literature. Taiga had some herself. But she lived for going to these book stores, libraries...

Any form of housing for these beauties.

It could not be replicated, or replaced.

You know when you come across something and immediately know deep down you'll enjoy it without a doubt?

That's how Taiga felt about her spoils.

Except Taiga wasn't a greedy pirate who stole something to claim as her own. These treasures were meant to be shared, in her opinion. And she gladly would if anyone wanted to borrow these from her.

So for the time being, she calmed herself down as much as possible and went to make her purchase.

The price of it all wasn't steep enough for her to have to shelve anything again, which she was relieved about. Her little collection was growing even more over time. It was nice to see.

And the compliment that she got from the cashier about the "costume" she had on being "rad as hell" made her lightly blush, but feel even better about herself.

As Taiga bashfully thanked them, along with trying hard to keep her ears and tail from moving too much, she grabbed ahold of her books again before she stumbled off, politely declining help from any of the staff that saw her and offered. She appreciated it though.

Taiga was clumsy, but she actually had it handled, so she kept on.

She wasn't bothered by the slight jestful bits of laughter her ears picked up. It quickly moved to the back of her mind as she thought on the largest libraries in the world; not just in America. Then Taiga laughed a bit to herself as well.

But it was for different reasons however, because as she took a seat in one of the reading corners nearby and flipped through each of the books she acquired, she semi-playfully had the thought:

'Maybe after everything, a visit to The Library of Congress could be next.'

She shook her head with a smirk as she neatly stacked and organized the rest of her books on a table beside her, before settling on one to keep in front of her and start reading.

Taiga crossed her leg and started to get comfortable. She had quite a chunk of free time and would make the most of it. But just in case she lost track of it, she set a timer on her phone and put it on vibrate before leaving it in her lap.

As she lightly turned the first page and swung her leg back and forth, it didn't take long before was sucked in and transported to another new world.

And Taiga welcomed it with open arms.

[twewytransswag]

Josh has around 3 votes more than Beat but I also voted Joshua twice in an attempt to tie them, sorry. I was cheating for a good cause

i have been reported that josh received 153 votes, placing him 5 votes above beat i believe. if you are the same lovely anon then discounting your three(???) votes would still leave joshua two votes ahead

[sesamenom]

PSA: REBLOG STUFF!!

So I don’t know if it’s just me, but I’m seeing some new people in my notifications and just wanted to put this out there.

REBLOGS ARE HOW THIS SITE WORKS

To illustrate, let’s use “Bob” and “Bob’s cat” as an example. Imagine you’re walking down the sidewalk and you see Bob holding his cat.

Reblogging is like taking a picture (with consent, of course!) and sending it to the groupchat (your followers). Liking is like waving hi, and replies are like standing around to talk to a few other people who also saw Bob’s cat.

Reblogs are how other people get to see content! There is no (functional) algorithm on Tumblr, so posters are reliant on reblogs to circulate posts. This is how Tumblr in-jokes and famous posts survive so long, because reblogging means the post doesn’t die after 24 hours.

Likes are fun, but all they really tell you is that someone found your post notable: it doesn’t help anyone else see it. If you saw a really cute cat/dog/critter of choice in real life, thinking to yourself “I like this cat” doesn’t show it to anybody else.

Replies are a brief conversation. It doesn’t share the post with anyone else, and doesn’t help circulate the post in the long run. (Of course, there are uses for this, but for the purpose of getting more people to see the post, it’s much more helpful to comment on a reblog!)

If you want to reblog but you don’t want it on your main blog- maybe you have a themed/fandom blog, or a gimmick blog, or an art or writing blog. Guess what? Tumblr gives you unlimited sideblogs! You can create a sideblog and reblog random stuff there. Personally, my main blog is an art-focused one, so I have sideblogs for other people’s art and miscellaneous reblogs.

Hope this helps & have fun!

transcript for handwriting:

3 panels, labeled “Reblog”, “Like”, and “Reply”

(you) @/everyone look at Bob’s cat!

Cat!

(person 1) yeah (person 2) aww! (you) cute cat

[hyenaswine]

while i'm not yet familiar with this artist, i feel like adding some context to the section where he states "The bomb had even deprived me of my mother's bones."

in shinto, the primary native religion of japan, the cremation of a body follows a series of important rituals. after witnessing the body being placed into the cremation chamber, the family leaves & returns several hours later when the cremation is complete. the relatives then pick the bones out of the ashes with chopsticks & place them into the urn in a ritual called kotsuage. the bones are picked up in a specific order, starting with the bones of the feet & proceeding up the body, ending with the bones of the skull; this is so the loved one is not placed in the urn upside down.

this is why the bones of a deceased loved one are especially important - nakazawa is telling us he was deprived of performing this meaningful mourning ritual.

(in most western cremations, whatever intact bones that are left after burning the body are placed into a machine called a cremulator to grind them down into a fine, uniform powder.)

i feel like knowing this adds some extra weight to nakazawa's words that may otherwise be lost to non-japanese who aren't aware of the ritual significance of the bones.

Barefoot Gen introduction by author Keiji Nakazawa, from the 2004 English edition.