#hopefully this was ok to post

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[kitamars]

doodles as i relive my spideyman phase from eighth grade

[teamunee]

happy new year everywan!!!

[asteraws]

my clown college grad project from december last year 🎪

[umblrspectrum]

my text disappeared here when i posted. what happened

[ptr-sqloint]

lab grown angel wip

[xxplastic-cubexx]

what kind of underwear do you think Erik and Charles wear (i'm not asking this to see them half naked) ((please believe me)) (((PLEASE)))

My Personal Belief is charles is a briefs guy while erik's a trunks guy. trunks/briefs kinda couple because i can

and idk just a lil bonus or somethin. as i do.

[pinkhairswagtourney]

help a disabled nonbinary lesbian get their life back together

hi everyone. i'm shroom and you've probably seen my posts before. my life is still a shitshow and nothing is coming together like it should. can't find a job, can't save up for a car, can't save up to escape this abusive household. bare necessities like food and medication and doctor's appointments take every last cent that i have. i'm also dealing with c0vid right now and it's kicking my ass completely; i've spent the better part of the last two weeks laying in my bed. i can't even complete commissions my energy is so low.

please help me. i'm hungry, and i'm tired, and i can't do this on my own. i don't have IRLs to help me like most people do. please send a few dollars my way or spread this post or commission me, anything so that i can move forward instead of sitting still and rotting away

commissions post p-yp-l c-sh-pp k-fi

[yrael]

finished isat and had to make some memes about it

[i-dreamed-i-had-a-son]

Another Les Mis musical connection that's making me feral: Jean Valjean uses the same melody with which he sings to Cosette, "Believe me, / Were it within my power, / I'd fill each passing hour-- / How quiet it must be, I can see, / With only me for company"...

When he sings "You are free, / And there are no conditions. / No bargains or petitions! / There's nothing that I blame you for. / You've done your duty--nothing more" to Javert.

In my journey to map out the various leitmotifs in the show, this one really flung me for a loop because what does it meannnn?? This is the only time we hear the melody in the show, and it's applied in two very different circumstances, where the relationship Valjean has to the characters involved could not be more opposite. What connects them?? But I think I have it.

It's a reluctant release. Not of the people, but of his own desires regarding them. Let me explain.

Valjean very distinctly wants things from both Cosette and Javert, which he sings about on the rising part of the melody. With Cosette, he wants to be the center of her life: "Were it within my power, I'd fill each passing hour;" on the other hand, he desperately wants Javert to leave him alone. When he has Javert at his mercy, he absolutely does want to trade lives, which is why he sings it on the rising part: "And there are no conditions, no bargains or petitions." He does want these things--but he's letting them go.

And that's where the falling part of the melody comes in. In both situations, Valjean knows he can't have what he wants. So he gives up that desire. He accepts that Cosette wants someone else, and doesn't blame her for it ("How quiet it must be, I can see, with only me for company,"), the same way he accepts the situation between him and Javert ("There's nothing that I blame you for. You've done your duty, nothing more."). That's why immediately afterwards, he tells Javert his address, and why shortly after that, he prays that Marius be brought home to Cosette.

Cosette is his biggest security, and Javert is the biggest threat to his security. But in this little melody, he sets them free (Cosette metaphorically, and Javert literally). He acknowledges what he wants, and accepts that he can't have it, even though it hurts.

And if that ain't the most Jean Valjean thing, I don't know what is.

[buck2eddie]

i just want you to know.

[queenlucythevaliant]

gone right into my heart

i. Fundamentally, mean children everywhere are all the same.

ii. Eustace Scrubb didn't think of himself as mean, of course, but he was. Cruel, petty, entitled, spoiled - all fine descriptors.

iii. All mean children have tough, scaly hides under which they conceal vulnerable flesh. They breathe fire and hope no one notices that it reeks of rot. Their claws are sharp, and because of this they cannot write in soft sand or hold hands with their loved ones.

iv. Eustace's cousins came to stay for the summer, and the worst part of it all was that it'd been years since he'd gotten a proper rise out of them. It was infuriating! Having them around would be no fun at all.

iv. Later, in Narnia, Eustace began to understand why they were so impervious to him. He'd been mean, sure, but they were knights.

v. Take me home, take me home, take me home, he said. Over and over. Take me home where it's safe. Take me home where I am in control. Not afraid. Not vulnerable.

vi. Eustace was never in control. It took becoming a dragon - the natural culmination of all the entitlement and cruelty that lived within him - to finally make that clear.

vii. He was wrapped in tough, scaly hide when the Lion came by moonlight. Eustace was a dragon, but if he still couldn't reckon with knights, what chance did he have against a lion?

viii. The lion's claws were sharper than his. They were sharper than anything else in the world.

ix. When those claws tore into his dragon hide, Eustace thought he would die. Perhaps, in a way, he did.

x. Claws that sharp should not have been capable of such dexterity or care. Yet they found their mark like scalpel blades in a surgeon's hands; not like the crude things that hung off of Eustace'a wretched dragon-limbs.

xi. He could feel them tearing through the scales. The tough dragon hide parted like butter. The lion's claws dug deeper, through tissue and muscle and the contorted cage of his ribs. They found his heart, and struck.

xii. After that, there was a pulling sensation. Eustace should have been dead, but his heart was beating, even impaled as it was with the lion's claws. Slowly, with an agonizing gentleness, the lion drew the boy's heart out of the gnarled dragon skin.

xiii. The body that came with it was soft and vulnerable and naked. How could he pretend at meanness now, with his armor so thoroughly destroyed? It would rend him to pieces.

xiv. Oh, thought Eustace. Was I ever anything else? Or have I always been this soft and naked?

xv. Yet the lion did not leave Eustace to his nakedness. He dressed him in soft clothes before returning him to camp.

[campbyler]

hopefully this aids you all in your endeavors to shift realities to camp whiteman

[myokk]

Sebastian Sallow's List of Priorities (in no particular order):

Figure out what the hell I'm going to do when I graduate;

Figure out how the hell I'm going to finish this bloody Charms essay before tomorrow; and

Figure out what the hell is going on between us

Sebastian sits in an undisturbed corner of the library - nobody ever comes to this table because it's tucked away between shelves of incredibly dense magical theory books - and is twirling his quill in his fingers, watching the ink splatter on the list he spent his precious time writing instead of the Charms essay he should be working on. He's far away from the first-years who like to congregate by the windows and watch the leaves fall softly to the ground rather than study for their classes. He's made especially sure that he is far, far away from her.

It's not his choice, mind you, but he needs to be a gentleman about these things. If she needs some time and space to figure out that she's as crazy for him as he is her, fine. But even Sebastian Sallow's patience runs thin, and he's not sure how much longer he can give her to come to her senses before he snaps and takes matters into his own hands. If things were up to him, the two of them would be sitting far too close together now in this secluded corner, and maybe he would need to put a hand over her mouth to ensure her complete silence as he runs a hand up her thigh.

Now that he knows what delicious sounds can come out of her mouth - sounds that he caused - he's been having a hard time concentrating on, well, anything. Sebastian surreptitiously glances across the library to where she's sitting and studying with his sister and Imelda. Ever since the events after their Divination class, Sir Cadogan has taken it upon himself to follow Sebastian around the halls of the castle, tripping through frames and disrupting their inhabitants as he lectures Sebastian on love. The tea party women had managed to convince the knight that he had disrupted an amorous exchange, and Sebastian fervently wishes they hadn't.

The whole school is abuzz with rumors about who it could be. Nobody has even come close so far with their guesses, but Anne and Imelda are having too much fun teasing him about it. Somehow, she has managed to avoid suspicion - he wonders how this is even possible, since she's never been able to hide what she's thinking. He makes eye contact with her - has she been staring at him this whole time? - and she flushes before looking over to Imelda, who's laughing too loudly at something Anne's just said. Sebastian can't tear his eyes away from her profile, his eyes following the curve of her eyebrow, the slight upturn of her lips as she smiles at her friends, her eyes as they dart back to him, her cheeks as she turns an even darker shade of red as she realizes he's still watching her. She tucks a lock of hair behind her ear, and rests her chin on her hand as she tries to look absorbed in what Anne is saying to her.

Sebastian wonders if she's thought about him as much as he's thought about her. Judging by how she had snogged him back, he's positive that she feels the same way, but then he remembers how she had looked at him before she fled, and he's not so sure. He sighs as he looks back to his list, bringing his quill back to the third item and ripping the paper as he crosses it out again. His mind has been going in circles since that moment and he doesn't know what to think. He slowly puts everything into his schoolbag before heading out of the library for yet another freezing cold shower that hopefully tempers his now-permanent state of arousal whenever she's around.

He doesn't notice her eyes following him as he walks out of the library.

He doesn't hear her hurried excuse to Anne and Imelda as she shoves her things into her bag and rushes to follow him.

He doesn't hear her light footsteps as she gets closer to him.

When she puts a hand out to touch his arm as he waits for the moving staircase to stop, with a soft, "Sebastian" accompanying it, he nearly jumps out of his skin. He was so absorbed with thoughts of her, that to see her standing at his side, closer than she had been since they kissed was almost his snapping point.

"Can we talk?" she asks, looking almost embarrassed as she avoids his eyes. She instead looks determinedly at his collar. He thinks she probably notices that he swallows nervously before acquiescing, but she says nothing as she turns and starts hurrying away from him without waiting to see if he follows her.

She must know that he would follow her anywhere at this point.

from my oneshot🫶🫶🫶

I just really wanted to draw these two idiots😭💘

[squuote]

maybe he draws sometimes. maybe. mostly just buckets tho.

[iampikachuhearmeroar]

"nobody wants to work anymore" but a low paying casual retail job wants you to travel to a capital city you don't live in, which is a considerable distance and time travelled from you (when you actively have a branch of this shop in your LOCAL shopping centre, 15mins down the road); for a group interview assessment centre. they then make you CONGA LINE into the said group interview with party poppers and streamers. like ma'am. I don't care how "ironic hipster millennial and 90s nostalgia" and "life of the party" this brand is supposed to be. but I ain't conga lining into this interview like a fucking clown. fuck some hiring managers and HR depts, honestly.