#but I think I need to respect myself

[ducktracy]

there are a lot of evil people in the world and a lot of darkness in the world and so it’s very important for me to stress that now more than ever is the time to spread kindness and compassion. combat the evil by not only not partaking in it, but actively refuting it. destroy the notion that being compassionate or generous or kind to someone is uncool or embarrassing or even scary. be the change you want to see. start a chain reaction. positivity only breeds more positivity. do an act of kindness for someone so that that person who is too afraid to do it themselves can see you, realize that they’re not alone, and perhaps sheepishly follow your example. and then the next person who is too afraid but sees that person can do the same. when bad news comes out about bad people or horrible atrocities in the world it’s such an easy impulse to despair, and obviously it’s important to feel what you need to feel. grieve. be angry. be sorrowful. be empathetic. but dust off your pants and get up and be a part of a chain reaction that, no matter how small the scale, and spread compassion and love and care. all the reasons why you might not—“it’s hard! it’s scary! people will make fun of me! it’s useless because there’s too much evil!” are all grade A arguments as to why you should. you have no idea how many people you could inspire to do the same. even if it doesn’t get you anyway far, you can at least say you have the nobility of trying. please choose love and please choose life. you are worth loving and you are worth inspiring others to love

[dreamydelite]

empty glory

[mamawasatesttube]

thinking abt kon getting hurt/upset about something big and clark bundling him up in his cape... ouuhhhhh souperfam save me...

[beanghostprincess]

Luffy not knowing about Zoro promising Sanji to kill him if he ever ends up losing himself makes me go feral because that's something they can only know about. Because Zoro's respect for life and death goes beyond anything, and Sanji knows he understands. Sanji knows that if somebody has to kill him, it's him.

And I don't even think it's because Sanji assumes Zoro's opinion of him is hatred and it would hurt less for him to do this, but because Sanji knows only Zoro would be able to treat the promise as it is. Because he would put Sanji's wishes before any feelings he has for him. It's not that Zoro doesn't care, but I think he respects people's ideals and decisions to the extent of being able to kill Sanji if he so desires.

That being said, he'd do it if there's no other way to fix it. If it's either dying or living as an emotionless machine, which is the same as dying for Sanji, Zoro would fulfill his promise. And there is just... Something about Luffy not knowing. Their captain. The man they're devoted to the most as if he were their God. Luffy doesn't know. It's something only the captain's wings are aware of and the thought of these two keeping this from Luffy until the end is just insane. Not even trying to make it romantic here, but the bond and respect these two have for each other is crazy.

Maybe it's the poetry of it all, too. Somebody like Zoro, who has looked at Death in her face multiple times and said "no", ending Sanji's life, who wants to give in to death to not experience a fate worse than death for him.

[ale-arro]

thinking about a post i saw that was like "it's hard to use the word 'crush' as an alloaro bc people will automatically assume it's romantic" and i feel like i've recently been made to acknowledge another aspect of this which is that in distancing myself from the idea that my crushes are romantic i end up like, minimizing them? treating them like they're insignificant to me or weak in quantity because if i act too serious about it then it will be Assigned Romantic. but isn't that just more amatonormativity? the idea that if the feelings i have for someone are substantial then they must be romantic

[holopossums]

Breakfast with the Baron

Breakfast is always more enjoyable when you share it with someone. Today you shared one with a certain large, pink sheep man who stole your heart and has the ring to prove it.

Mood music for peak domestic romance

Figured I'd try my hand at writing a Gender Neutral X Reader/self-insert story to accompany the art! (First time ever, ended up being much longer than I thought because of course it is, this is me you're talking about. ~1500 words under the cut.)

WARNING: Story has mild, silly suggestiveness at some points. (It's very PG-13, but just in case loving and goofy descriptions of sheep men's bodies are not your cup of Dad Fuel.)

Enjoy!

Edit: Fic is now up on AO3, you can read it there too!

⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯⎯

Sunlight streamed through the window in your bedroom, its rays falling on your form, and you stirred from your dreamland. Too early. You shifted so that you were facing away from the blinding light. But it was too late, you were doomed to be awake now. Bleary-eyed, you scanned your room and noted that you were alone. Not a large pink sheep man in sight. But the delicious scents coming from beyond the room indicated he was home, and that was enough to make you rise from bed.

After going through your typical morning routine, you found him exactly where you thought he'd be. Baron Draxum considered himself king of the kitchen, both at work and home, and he was wholeheartedly committed to feeding you well. Early on in your relationship with him, you wondered if he was spoiling you with so much home cooking. In time, you understood that it was his way of caring for your well-being—a love language. Now he made roughly half of your meals and you did not complain.

It was the weekend, so Draxum had gone all out even though it was early. Both of your favorite breakfast foods were on the menu. It was no wonder that you cartoonishly floated into the kitchen by following the waft of tasty smells. In addition to the meal, coffee was already brewed. A steaming hot novelty coffee mug that read "DAD FUEL" sat on the counter while Draxum cooked. Judging by the droopy eyes and a croaky, mumbled “good morning” when you entered his domain, you were sure that he would be drinking most of the coffee pot whether or not you had any for yourself.

Before you sat down at the dining table, you peered out one of the nearby windows. It was a gorgeous sunny day in June, just before the sweltering heat hit hard. These cooler summer days were precious, so you had the urge to have breakfast outside in the garden.

While the old Yōkai had finally adjusted to life on the surface, he still wasn't particularly fond of bright sunlight, as he had lived underground for much of his life. You could already hear his complaints about your idea before you even started. Still, you two had been together long enough that you knew how to effectively persuade him.

Draxum was nearly finished cooking everything. He was working the stove and had his back turned. Even from behind, his unkempt appearance was attractive—nest hair stuck out in all directions, his robe rumpled, the way he tiredly hunched over his workspace. He was like this on weekends when he didn’t have to groom himself and rush off to work. While he cleaned up well, his natural state was just as stunning. You gingerly wrapped your arms around his waist from behind, nuzzled his back, and suggested your idea. Your face was buried in his back so you weren’t using puppy eyes, but you sure were using a puppy voice, a wholly unnecessary “pretty please with a cherry on top” kind of beg. His head tilted as he thought it over. A small smile graced his aging face when he looked over his shoulder. He agreed with a nod. Your loving expression worked like a charm.

Minutes later, the sleepy sheep shuffled behind you, breakfast in hand, to a big wooden picnic table that was partly in the shade of nearby trees. Your bountiful feast was spread out, more than enough for two. Books and other entertainment were also brought along, as you planned to camp out there for the rest of the morning.

With an old man grunt, Draxum plopped down in a white chair on the far side of the table, and you sat opposite him in a matching chair. You couldn’t help but smile at the ways he was handsomely growing older. You wanted to lightly tease him about sounding as old as he looks, but you bit your tongue. With his back toward the sun, it illuminated his form and made him look ethereal. Disrupting the tranquility seemed like a crime.

Draxum was one of those people who didn’t care about much of anything too early in the day. He wasn't much of a conversationalist either, at least until the coffee kicked in, so he did not chat with you at first. Seemingly stuck in a lingering daze, he wasn’t even swatting away the gnats circling him, but every so often one of his ears flicked on reflex when one got a little too close. Again, downright adorable, but you bit the inside of your cheek to keep yourself from making any comment that would change his awareness. It was a miracle that the man managed to make breakfast as good as he did considering his state. Maybe he put in more effort to be attentive earlier, and now that you were sitting down he was letting his mind wander.

Not wanting to disturb him, you eagerly dug into your food, trying to keep your sounds of pleasure at a minimum. No words were exchanged, but none were needed. The peaceful sounds of nature accompanied you as birds sang their hearts out, squirrels scurried up and down the trees beside the table, and bugs lazily buzzed above your heads.

Perhaps it was the warm gentle breeze or a subtle movement that did it. However it happened, when you looked up from your plate, something changed about him that your eyes fixated on while you mindlessly chewed. You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you snapped out of it when you finally heard his gentle baritone rumble, still a tad raspy from overnight disuse.

"What are you staring at, love?"

Carnelians glistened with curiosity when his eyes met yours. He sipped on his coffee and did not break eye contact, more alert than before. But the tone of his question was adorably dopey and sincere, so it seemed he was still not as aware of the change as you were.

The sheep was so groggy that he failed to notice that his robe had slipped from his left shoulder, revealing half of his ample, plush chest. A nipple and scars underneath his pecs invitingly poked through. Even though you were well-acquainted with his body, the accidental half-reveal somehow made it sexier. Fortunately, there was a table between you and him. If there wasn’t, you might have been tempted to sidle up to him and bury your face in his cotton candy pillows.

It was difficult to avert your gaze from such a magnificent sight, but thankfully something else caught your eye. The wedding ring on his finger sparkled when it caught a ray of sun. It was a pleasant reminder of the promise he made to you: I am yours and only yours.

Married life with Baron Draxum was interesting, to say the least. Though he was an aggravating man at times—his vices could be counted on more than one hand and his flaws on more than two—his love was strong and steadfast. Underneath all that pride and sass, Draxum was a soft man. He liked to challenge you—your mind, body, and soul—yet never made you feel like you weren’t enough for him. Whether in word or action, in his eyes there was no one on Earth as lovely and unique as you. He had quirky ways of showing it, but he always made it known in one way or another.

Despite this, he more than made up for any of your smaller grievances with endearing moments like these.

You took your time to swallow the food you were eating, set down your fork, and think of what to say. A coy smile inched its way across your face. You leaned back and waved your hand. "Oh, nothing. Keep eating."

The old sheep squinted at you. Whether or not he could sense your playful lie, he was still too out of it to probe further. He simply responded with a soft grunt into his coffee mug, set it down, and dug back into his food.

The cotton candy pillow continued to hang out all breakfast long. Either he did not notice at all, or he did and didn't bother to fix it. If the latter, who knew whether it was out of pure laziness or because he knew giving you an eyeful was a treat. Regardless, you were not eager to point it out and ruin the fun. It was hard to call it a wardrobe malfunction when the warrior's robe seemed to be functioning exactly as the universe intended in that little moment.

A sweet domestic life with Baron Draxum was never bland. Ordinary days and regular routines were marinated with the spice and zest of the love you shared. It was your secret hope that flame would never extinguish.

You had woken from your deep slumber from the night before. At least, you thought you had. But that morning felt so heavenly and blissful that you could never be completely sure it wasn't a dream.

[a-stars-art-blog]

I hate the mom hunter jokes so much y’all Kakyoin is the most respectful boy ever he would never and I think him and Holly would have an adorable mother-son relationship if y’all would stop being WIERD >:{

[yardsards]

people love an "i'll take care of you" "it's rotten work" "not to me, not if it's you" character dynamic until the character who needs to be taken care of is disabled. then it's supposedly fucked up and toxic for a person to have to take care of someone else.

[eggoatt]

i want to share two of my most favorite seasonally appropriate youtube videos

a normal creepypasta retrospective by hazel and Noone Can Find This "Creepy Dinosaur" Game... by Sagan Hawkes

these two videos share a theme, but i won't spoil what it is. i think these are some really fun pieces of art and i want to spread the word about them because i found them really gripping.

*as a note: while putting videos on in the background is perfectly valid, i would highly recommend at least occasionally glancing at these in particular. they have more effort put into their visuals than usual

[goldensunset]

life is hard when you don't care about the Male Side Character Extended Fanon

[dayurno]

basically

[fogwitchoftheevermore]

(context for watcher/listener!sausage can be found in the “videos” tag on my blog if you want it, but this ficlet can be read without said context)

- - -

“Y’know, of all the Hermits I was expecting to be pulling me into a dark corner tonight, I did not expect you to be first, Grian! I love the initiative!”

“I’m going to pretend I didn’t hear that,” Grian says in a voice near a hiss. He’s got Sausage by the wrist, leading him into a small area of the upper floor of the tavern in Sanctaury that does look like it was built for the exact purpose Sausage is implying. Grian decides to ignore that as well.

“What are you doing here?” Grian’s straight to the point. He always has to be, with these Things, if he doesn’t want to get trapped in a loop of slant rhyming pleasantries.

“What do you mean?” Sausage asks, shaking his wrist out of Grian’s tight grip and leaning comfortably against the wall. “This is where I live. It’s my home. If anything, I should be asking you mysterious strangers what you’re doing here, but I’m sure you’ve heard that question enough for one day.”

“You know exactly what I mean.” Grian crosses his arms and tries his best not to look petulant, but he sure feels like it. “I thought They’d given up on trying to snatch me back, so why would They send you of all people? What’s your game?”

Sausage laughs, honest to god laughs, like he can’t believe Grian’s even asking him such a question. Grian thinks it’s a reasonable question, in this scenario, but what he thinks and what’s reasonable rarely seems to matter with these things.

“They didn’t send me,” Sausage looks him up and down in that way that makes Grian have to physically stop himself from curling inwards. This is why he never talks to Them. “Nobody sends me anywhere, they don’t tell me what to do and I like it that way! I just do my own thing. Isn’t that what you’re doing?”

“No you’re not! You’re not- you can’t be! That’s not how this works!” Grian begins to notice that he’s no longer whisper-shouting and starting to just-normal-shout and takes a deep breath, trying not to draw the attention of his friends enjoying themselves on the floor below. And, realistically, in the other dark corners Sausage seems to have built into this place.

“That’s exactly how this works. You didn’t think you were the only person who’d left, did you?”

Grian opens his mouth, closes it, and thinks. In hindsight… yeah, he had kind of assumed he’d been the only person who’d left. Not for lack of trying, probably- but They’d tried for so long to get him back, kept him closely surveilled even when They’d accepted he was gone- surely some people had caved to that pressure eventually. When there was no sign They’d ever let up, ever let you go… he could understand eventually letting it overtake you.

“Did- did you leave, too?” Grian doesn’t remember the last time he saw Sausage’s face. He didn’t know him back then, of course. He probably would’ve connected the man with the person Pearl so often spoke about sooner. But he knows it’s been a long time, maybe even longer than the last time Grian had gone There. He doesn’t think Sausage had been There, that day. This might explain why.

“Eh, not quite?”

“What-“ Grian flails, both mentally and with his arms a bit. “What do you mean not quite?”

“Exactly what I said! I was never- it’s complicated, y’know?”

“Explain. Now.”

“Well, uh,” Sausage seems to flounder for the first time since this conversation started, which Grian is choosing to take as a victory. “Look, I wasn’t- they didn’t pick me. For this, or for anything, ever. Sometimes things just happen and you get yourself into a place you shouldn’t have and then… they can’t get rid of me, I can’t get rid of them, it is what it is.”

Grian stares at him for a long moment. Really stares at him, in the same way Sausage had looked him over earlier, in the same way that makes you feel like you’re under a microscope. Judging by the sudden nerves in his eyes, Grian can assume he feels it too. Grian remembers his face. That had been the first thing he’d noticed, when the Hermits had arrived. It had been a long time since they’d seen each other, but Grian knew his face. And now that Grian was studying him, really trying to remember… he’s not sure he quite likes what memories he’s dredging up.

“What are you?”

“Grian!” Sausage’s voice drips with mock offense as he puts his hand up to partially cover his mouth. “We only just met, do you think that’s polite?”

“Answer the question,” Grian sighs. How Pearl deals with this man on the regular, he doesn’t know.

“Well, if you insist.” Sausage sighs, somehow even more exaggerated than his previous movements. “It’s just… if you’ll believe it, it’s somehow even harder to answer the first question.”

“It shouldn’t be,” Grian says. “They’re two very different People, you know.”

“But they’re the same species, when it all comes down to it. Like, you might be very different than a chicken, but you’re both birds in the long run.”

Grian pauses, fanning his wings out a bit behind him as he considers. “I don’t think that metaphor’s quite landing the way you want it to.”

“No, me neither. Anyways, let me continue.

When they don’t pick you, things go a little differently! You don’t get sorted onto one side or the other since, well, you’re not really supposed to be there? So I’m… whatever I want to be, really. I think I’m feeling like more of a Listener, today, but we’ll see how the mood shifts.”

Grian flinches at the Name, on instinct. He doesn’t know how to feel about that, so he files it away to be dealt with at a later date. As for the rest of what Sausage said-

“What?”

“You heard me.” Sausage shrugs. He’s so nonchalant, Grian thinks he might strangle him, if not for the worry that that’s exactly what he wants out of this, somehow.

“Did I? Did I hear you?” Grian wants to pace, but that requires leaving the security of the corner, so he forces his feet to root themselves to the floor. “I thought- I thought you had to- if you wanted to change sides, I thought you had to-“

Grian closes one eye and takes his thumb to it, twisting the finger into his eyelid. The gesture seems to get the point across.

“Well, that’s the funny thing about this, actually.” From the way he’s been talking, Grian assumed Sausage thought this whole thing was funny. He restrains himself from saying that out loud if only so Sausage will finish his explanation.

Sausage reaches up to his left eye, pulls his eye lid back a bit, and unceremoniously pops out his prosthetic eye.

“All these processes and rituals actually have a lot of loopholes.”

Grian doesn’t know what face he’s making, but it’s enough to make Sausage giggle while he pops the eye back in. Because of course he does. Because this how his day is going, apparently. Walk through a weird portal in his basement and wake up in a world filled with his friends who don’t recognize him and also a guy he only ever saw There, who he was never supposed to see again. Sure. Of course he’s laughing about it. Grian thinks if he was a slightly different person, he’d be laughing too. It is, undeniably, absurd.

“Well, I think we’re done here then!” Grian would probably object if he weren’t so shocked about the loopholes. As it is, he just stands there a bit stupidly.

Sausage turns away to return to the party before turn around again for just a moment, reaching over, and ruffling Grian’s hair. That shocks him enough to shake him out of his stupor and swat Sausage’s hand away, though not before his hair is suitably messed up.

“What was that for?!”

Sausage smiles as he reaches up to rough up his own hair as well. “I assumed you didn’t want your friends asking questions about why you were dragging me into a dark corner, you know?” Sausage even goes far enough to pull his shirt a bit out of where it’s tucked into his pants, because of course he does. Grian tries not to cringe, but Sausage is right about this one thing. It is the easiest way to dodge any questions about where he’d gone off to- at the expense of the many knowing looks and teasing remarks he’ll be getting from the other Hermits instead.

“Have a good night, Grian!” Sausage calls over his shoulder as he turns to leave for real this time. “And remember, drinks are on me for all you guests tonight! You look like you need it.”

[primrose-path-of-dalliance]

thinking about them (jester and caleb)........ once more unto the breach

[uncanny-tranny]

One of the hardest things to actually accept, in my experience, is that you eventually have to forgive yourself for the harm you did to yourself. A good way to move on from that is just being able to let your past self rest in peace. Don't stomp on their resting spot, they need to be at peace. They deserve to be at peace, and so do you.

[redrobin-detective]

Back to watching Elementary again, another aspect of the show I enjoy is Sherlock’s open adoration and appreciation of Watson both as a person and a fellow detective. I think that’s something that has been lost in a lot of Holmes adaptions - started mainly by the Basil Rathbone/Nigel Bruce movies - of Watson being a comedic foil to Holmes, an inept bungler that Sherlock puts up with.

I feel like even in adaptions that have Holmes/Watson having a good relationship, there is this sense of exasperation coming from Holmes about some of Watson’s behaviors (BBC and RDJ come to mind). In Elementary, once Sherlock accepts and embraces his love for Watson, he never really backs down from it. We rarely see him frustrated with her, and if so it’s because of her actions not personality clashes. He knows he’s weird and obnoxious and adapts to Watson’s habits without making a big eye rolling deal out of it.

[crunchycrystals]

still can't get over the stupid goddamn anthpo video. genuinely fucking disgusted thinking ab it