#as a warm up

[tryingtimi]

The Cold Dead Reality

Aight, first off, thank you lovely @aalinaaaaaa for the numbers! 🩶 I'll do this one separately, because the two others are Sasin songs, however Redeemer is a full on Lonel one. I spent much less time with this story recently, but boy I missed it. The song made me think of exploring the time when Lonel loses his mother because of the vampires who want to erease their kind comletely.

CHARACTER EXPLORATION | TW: HINT OF DEATH | WC: 529

Lonel’s burning lungs brought tears to his eyes.

He scrambled through the ground, running on feet that barely held his weight, let alone his mother’s. Dust swirled around him, bone aching under his changing skin. There was no time to keep it hidden — there was no care in him to try it. Lonel fell on all fours in his rush, coughing and screaming, fur bursting through pores, hands retreating into paws. His face tugged forward into a snout, teeth piercing flesh to draw blood in his mouth. His small child back extended into a wolf cub’s, big enough to carry his mother’s body.

Thick, silver blood drops whirled with the kicked-up dirt.

Lonel growled, tears dripping from his now-rounded eyes. He didn’t care if he was seen, he didn’t care if he lost control. Perhaps since the first time he transformed, he wished to lose it.

He ran as if chased, wind prickling his too-sensitive skin like needles poking him all over. He couldn’t focus, the forest blurring from the edge to the centre, steady in its pace. Lonel barked from the lump in his throat, biting on thin air.

The animals around him squirred away. The world turned from a paralysing quiet to a crashing vortex of sounds.

Crunching leaves, little tapping legs, scurries and hoots. Lonel heard the tapping of fine shoes, smelled luxurious perfumes, and saw sinister smiles.

He ran and ran, and ran.

The soft swish of skin on skin in applause. His mother, snarling without a whine.

Lonel cut his paws, closed his yellow eyes and ran.

He huffed and trashed his head. The sounds followed as if to leave a trail just to make him never forget where it happened. Where he saw silver blood spilt the first time. Where they — those wretched pale monsters in men's skin fulfilled a promise from long ago. Where he hid and couldn’t do a thing. Where his mother tortured herself to defy them from doing so. Where she told him to go, not to look back.

Lonel’s paws felt concrete as he reached the city’s edge, and he stumbled, howling as he crashed to the ground, his mother’s body coming along. He coughed hard enough to make his throat flame with pain as if he could have spit the hurt out. His legs trembled, and the rain started to drizzle. The urge nudged him to get up, to go, to either kill or getaway. But his limbs didn’t move. Only his chest heaves in a crazed rhythm, his eyes frozen on his mother’s body — on her corpse. Silver blood oozed out the wounds, the stench of decay thick in the air.

Lonel whined as the lump ballooned in his throat, the crowd, the hunt, the girl plaguing his mind. A flash of fangs, of teeth, and spilt blood, both blackened red and silver. He howled, desperate, not being able to keep any sound inside. He ran to get away from the slaughter, and the cold dead reality that lay before him now bare and inescapable.

That he, after all, became the very last of his kind.

[oldartbroughtbackfromthedead]

Pinkie Pie is best pony, jsyk

[fly-chicken]

A Pragmatic and surprisingly comforting perspective about the Trump 2nd Presidency from the ACLU

***Apologies if this is how you found out the 2024 election results***

Blacked out part is my name.

I’m not going to let this make me give up. It’s disheartening, and today I will wallow, probably tomorrow too

AND

I will continue to do my part in my community to spread the activism and promote change for the world I want to live in. I want to change the world AND help with the dishes.

And I won’t let an orange pit stain be what stops me from trying to be better.

A link to donate to the ACLU if able and inclined. I know I am

[inkskinned]

it is november, and yesterday it felt like it was supposed to be snowing. in boston, november used a winter month, not a fall month. it is supposed to be chilly; rarely capping over 45F. it is a sweater-and-jacket month. it is a "maybe a scarf too" month. in my childhood, november meant blizzards and sleet.

it did not snow. tomorrow the weather predicts a high of 76.

i have spent so many years of my life studying the longterm possibilities of climate change - the culmination of capitalism wreaking havoc on the bodies of people, animals, plants - but every so often i am still shocked by something small and personal.

in a hundred years, when someone goes outside in boston - will they know the feeling of "snow in the air"?

i know it's a learned feeling, a sensation that maybe only longterm experience can teach. a few years ago, i was walking with my friend who had just moved up from the south. i said it smells like snow and she gave me this look like - what the fuck. i said it feels like snow too, which didn't help. she looked up to the bright blue sky and then back at me and then back at the sky. 12 hours later, we had 3 inches. you can just tell if it's going to snow.

except i can't tell, anymore. i stand outside in a tee shirt and watch my dog dance around a lake. we're in a drought and the skin of the water has peeled back twenty meters. the lake is tamed, quiet, puddlelike and sour. my pokemon go app warns there's a weather condition in my area.

my dog gets too hot from running and sits in the water and i want to laugh about his long frame and how awkwardly he sits - and i can't. some simian part of my brain is scratching the walls. it was supposed to snow. it was supposed to snow, but now it's warm instead.

during the last full solar eclipse, the dogs and the birds and the crickets went crazy under utter darkness. we laughed at them then, promising it will all be okay in a moment. but some part of me is still locked in that long night: some animal sensation.

something is wrong, my body says. i can't afford eggs or rent. i go outside to watch a sunset and listen to birdsong. i don't bring a jacket. allergies are killing me this season, allergies i didn't have as a kid. everyone comments that halloween has started to feel strange, offkilter. that it's hard having "holiday cheer." my body thinks it's april, and then it thinks we're in september, and then june.

something is terribly wrong, she whispers. go outside. it is supposed to be snowing.

[crabussy]

hey. don’t cry. crush four cloves of garlic into a pot with a dollop of olive oil and stir until golden then add one can of crushed tomatoes a bit of balsamic vinegar half a tablespoon of brown sugar and stir for a few minutes adding a handful of fresh spinach until wilted and mix in half a cup of grated parmesan cheese and pasta of your choice ok?

[to-fu]

my easily jumpscared gf has her back to the door in our new place and every time i need to announce myself like im an angel of god

[chloesimaginationthings]

Monty’s FNAF history is all too familiar with Michael,,

[kate-komics]

The current random brain worm is if Logan found an abandoned fawn in the woods and just raised it and named him Sue like the Johnny Cash song… i’ve been making it my warm ups.

And like what if I made a whole story about that instead of his man pain? Fucking what then??

[six-tooth]

(based on this Twitter post)

[thelostmoongazer]

more figuring out how i wanna draw the Lamb :3

[yuutaguro]

out of office 🏝️

[hinamie]

I don't want to regret the way I lived

[l0verseyes]

stans

[dinoserious]

a few shadow gira sketches

[inkskinned]

the tradwife movement is the same as it has always been - back in the kitchen, back to breeding - it just has better branding.

when i was younger, i hated pink. i was not like other girls. this is now something i'm embarrassed of - this was not me being a "girl's girl."

but it was expressing something many of us felt at the time: i literally wasn't what girlhood was supposed to be. this is a hard thing to explain, but you know when you're not performing girlhood correctly. it isn't as easy as "i liked x when girls liked y" - because there were other girls that liked x, too - but i never figured out exactly the correct way to like x, or to be interested in y.

now there is the divine feminine. this is the same rhetoric it has always been: women are biologically driven to like pink and ribbons and submitting to our husbands.

the problem is that the patriarchy found a better PR team. because yes, actually, i want every woman to have the choice to be a homemaker. i also want her taken seriously for her legitimate home-making labor. i want her to be recognized as also having a job, just unpaid. i want men to have this opportunity, too.

but it is no longer "i made this choice and I love it." instead it is a sixteen-paragraph rant about how selfish it is that my generation isn't having kids. instead it's long videos about how if you feed your children processed foods, you're going to kill them. instead it is "this is what womanhood is supposed to be. i feel bad for any other choices you're making."

the shame spiral is just prettier. it is large houses devoid of personality. it is the implication: if you don't have this, you aren't happy. the solid, everlasting assurance: women are actually supposed to be submitting. this is the default. this is the natural state of things. all other attempts inflict suffering.

but you can no longer say i'm not like other girls. you can no longer reject this image completely. you cannot find it revolting, even if you know that the underbelly is toxic and festering. sure, it is the same repackaged patriarchy. but the internet does not have shades of grey. you should support and reward other women! your disgust is actually internalized misogyny. not because you are seeing a vision of yourself the way they're trying to train you to be. not because you feel her ghost pass within an inch of your earlobe. not because your father will eventually ask you - why can't you be like her?

because they figured out how to make it beautiful: women will sell other women on this idea, and we will find the singular loophole in feminism. sure, she's shaming you in most of her videos. sure, she implies that a different life is obscene. but she just wants you to be happy! you'd be happier if you were listening!

and the whole time you're sitting there thinking: i'd actually just be happier if i had that kind of money.

[abd-appleboxdog]

I love these fools so much. I hope in the end they stay together or keep in touch. I heart them its like the dad who didn’t want a cat but loves the cat