#baby steps etc

[throwing-roses-into-the-abyss]

unlocked a new diy skill: learned how to drill a hole in wood

[sivavakkiyar]

I lose my mind about once every two months on the dot for about 4 hours and then I’m fine. Hopefully by next year I can get this to ‘once every 6 months’

[lacnunga]

Gonna try to be one of those girlies (neutral) again who washes and moisturises their face every morning and evening. Wish me luck

[applestorms]

it’s so ironic to me that, outside of the kiss, ivan is one of the only people in the main cast to really Play The Game properly. like: mizi and sua sing a duet together instead of trying to beat one another, till takes over the song so thoroughly that he doesn’t let acorn sing even once, luka is clearly biased through his already-established rabid fanbase on top of all the psychological mind game bullshit he pulls on stage. even hyuna breaks out of the show entirely, singing her own show for her own purposes, to an audience of her choosing.

ivan sings his first round the way it’s supposed to go, allows his opponent a sufficient chance to try and prove himself, and kicks his ass the proper way. 90 to 68. he performs as he was trained to, dresses and models as he’s expected to, smiles when he’s told to. he sings from his heart, but in the form of something palatable for the audience, not as severe or personal as nowhere though deep enough to still be compelling. he’s top of his class. he’s the beloved fan favorite. he stands up to each and every expectation.

and then the second he breaks out of that, he’s killed. the minute he fails to perform as he has been dictated to, he is shot to death. a violation of convention is punishable by execution. shattering the character costs him his life. he is not allowed to exist outside of the standards that are set for him. the public facing persona is the only face he is permitted to wear.

till can fight back. he’ll get his ass beat, but they won’t kill him. not while he’s still profitable. ironically, for him, it is through playing the round the way that he’s supposed to that he loses his edge. he can live up to expectations by existing outside of what’s acceptable, rabid and feral, chained and collared but artistically free.

mizi can bend the rules. she can sing the duet she’s always dreamed of, protected by the sweet innocence of a feminine naïveté, and come out of it with a winning score next to her dead lover. she can escape from the stage and fight her way back in only when she’s ready. she can tackle her opponent to the ground. she can forge her own path.

ivan is intimately aware of exactly when and where he is able to rebel. he can take off till’s collar, walk away from their false eden, and sneak into the darkness when the floral eyes aren’t watching. yet he cannot move as soon as the spotlight hits him. ultimately, he has no real agency. knowledge of how to escape, how to calmly stick your head in the drooling mouth of the beast, is not enough on its own. he can’t act out once he’s on camera. he must keep doing what he’s told. he knows too much, and he can’t do anything about it. he needs the shock of a melodramatic sacrifice to roll the globe of expectations off his back. he needs the force of a kiss to get the eyes that he wants.

[idontmindifuforgetme]

bro I hate when guys say anything about women's 'biological clock' like honey your sperm count is not gonna be the same either

NO SERIOUSLY…. I was so freaked out when he said that I was like no way this man is talking like this to me when I just graduated college like 2 seconds ago and have not seen much life at all and like want to be a doctor and actually foster my hobbies?????????? Before I think about raising someone’s spawn???????????????????

[hallowclave]

She para on my humans till I [GRUESOME SOUNDS OF BUG FUELED VIOLENCE]

Redraw of a skitter design I did a little over a year ago, comparison under the read more

And the sketch. As a little treat. Just for you.

[tubbytarchia]

I just saw a few "beginner artist" animations and posts that had gained some traction and their comment sections actually made me pretty seethingly upset.

"Experienced" artists really just jump on "beginner" artists to tell them all the 2 to 5 to 50 things that they can do better. All under the guise of "I'm just tryna help" and coated with "you have potential!". Well I am also a fellow artist and that is so haughty and discouraging to me. Some artists need to get off their hyper realistic objectively superior anatomically correct high horses and give the goofy newbie ones some fucking room to breathe. Leave beginner artists alone, a tip or two is fine but they do not need 20 people correcting all their "mistakes" and giving tips and criticism where it was never asked for. I genuinely feel so bad for these beginning artists who put in effort to create something, and that's the foremost beauty of art, only to get jumped like prey by all these other artists who fail to appreciate the very core of what they claim to teach. If you do that, THEY DON'T NEED YOU to grow as artists, and that's assuming you even wanted to help and not just having a superiority complex

[luxurystark-jackson]

the tfw dynamics with jack are so interesting to me because like. the most destiel “proof” (so to say) we get is from the concept that jack has of dean being his dad. and this stems from cas being his dad, and whatever their relationship is just being so horribly obvious that jack assumes they’re together and treats dean like a father figure.

and yet!! the kicker!! is that sam and cas are jack’s parents!! dean wants nothing to do with raising that kid but still ends up roped into it somehow.

[huntedsmark]

DRABBLE CHALLENGE 2024: DAY 5 / RING Roma gets new clothes.

Rahadin’s armor fit Roma perfectly--an honest surprise considering so few things did. The fine leather breast piece lay flat and uncomplicated over his clothes. The boots neither squeezed his toes nor chafed his ankles. Even when the collar was clasped fully shut, he felt like he could breathe comfortably. 

For someone who had a lot of complaints about clothes, Roma could admit that these were nice. They would serve as a good replacement for his tattered traveling leathers... though, cynically, Roma was fairly sure whatever benefit they provided would be negated by Strahd’s rage upon seeing that he, of all people, was wearing the chamberlain’s armor.   

Roma fished out the signet ring Rabbit had plucked from Rahadin’s body; like everything else, it was a satisfying weight at the center of his palm. Roma remembered the monster hunter they’d parted ways with just a few days earlier. 

“Knives would like this.” He thought as the raven insignia glinted in the early morning light. “I’ll give it to her the next time we meet up.” 

Roma pocketed the ring again. 

Well. Whatever. Strahd was dead set on killing everyone anyway. Not something a ring and some armor was going to change.

---

[pinkfey]

WIP WEDNESDAY.

i was tagged by the lovely @corvosattano and lo and behold i actually have something this time !!

tagging: @malefiicarum @rosebarsoap @lvllns @ladyshar @shadowshearts @liurnia @astarien @kirnet @druidgroves @anoras @shadowglens @calenhads @mrs-theirin @nuclearstorms @flymmcargo @maxthetruman @necroticpetals @devilbrakers @morvaris @hylfystt @shellibisshe and you!!!!!!!!!!!!

i like to call this one "astarion is playing himself and he doesn't even know it. also he's bitchy."

“How did you learn such a skill, anyhow? Picking locks on doors you can’t enter?” she teased.

Astarion grumbled. What was that saying? Stones from glass houses?

“So many jokes from one asking so many favors.”

“One joke,” she corrected. “And one favor.”

Astarion listened close for the ticks of the lock, rolling his eyes. “Eugh. That’s how it always starts. ‘Pick a lock for me, Astarion! Hold my bag for me, Astarion! Rub my back for me, Astarion! Do all the hard work for me, Astarion, while I gorge myself on excess and watch’—Shhhhhhit!” The pick snapped between his fingers pathetically, as if retribution for his outburst.

If Ursula noticed his defeat, she did not reveal it. Gorge myself on excess, she mouthed with a slow nod. She shrugged, took another bite of her apple, and said nothing. Typical of her to let him complain. Some days he couldn’t decide whether she was patient or simply a stonewall. Perhaps both.

Astarion wormed the broken pick out of the lock, grateful it hadn’t been busted, and set to work with a fresh set.

He contemplated an apology—the use of it, that is. In truth, the situation between the two of them was quite the opposite and he knew it. She rarely asked anything of him. Of anyone, really. She defended him relentlessly and she allowed him to drink from her on the regular, and he didn’t need to ask. Picking a lock once in exchange for the kind of security and sustenance she provided seemed more than a fair bargain.

But Astarion was nothing if not frivolous, and Ursula did not mind, so he deigned to feel no shame in complaining, hyperbolic as he may have been. Perhaps embarrassingly so.

“You know you can get up whenever you wish, love,” Ursula said.

He tutted, tossed a sideways glance at her. Torchlight glinted off the recent puncture wounds in her neck as she leaned against the wall. Her good hand held the apple while she tucked the injured one close to her waist. He looked away quickly, lest he be reminded how she found herself injured in the first place. Lest he feel a shred of guilt, or worse: indebtment.

He can get up whenever he wishes.

Hmph.

Well.

The lock wasn’t exactly difficult, was it? He wasn’t doing this for her. On his knees in the dirt? Certainly not. This was a strategic move. He needed her trust. He wanted to see what was on the other side as well. Obviously.

The final tumbler clicked into place and he teased the lock to the side. He shoved the door open with a triumphant grin, only to be met with… Nothing. About ten square feet of dusty floorboards and barren wall sconces. Not even a hint of any secret passageways or loose planks. Astarion’s shoulders slumped.

Ursula poked her head inside and casually scanned the vacant room. “Huh,” she said. “Just an empty storage room. Oh well.”

“Wh—” Astarion started, but she was already marching away. “Are you kidding me?! After all that?”

[taplaos]

[OC- Marlin and Rosemary ] Marlin enjoys the human pleasure in dancing. Also pppshh making a playlist for them

[mishkakagehishka]

Like we'll never make proper progress bc too many women have internalised misogyny and are quite happy with it bc they see their successful conforming to gender roles as something they should be proud of and other women's "unsuccessful" conforming as something to shame. Why? My assumption is bc they also don't want to have to conform 24/7 and are bitter when confronted with women who have decided they won't bother anymore. I like to think that bc then there's at least some hope for them.

[orcelito]

My brain may currently be infected with ideas of Dad Vash but before I can truly indulge them. I must go to the woods for 1-2 hours, indulge in catharsis, then come crawling back home to tearfully post my chapter,

And Then. Maybe I can truly indulge in the visions of Dad Vash.

[officialpenisenvy]

found some pictures of this absolute FIT i wore for a winter school party when i was 16 and i need yall to see it

[asclexe]

oh god it just occurred to me that i am the dead, complete end of my (related) bloodline.