#i love love love the mixture of like

[theskeletoninthegarden]

Watching Nimona a second time and between feeling Emotions I couldn't help but admire, again, the general aesthetic of the city

[biggest-gaudiest-patronuses]

historical drama/sitcom where two gay best friends (woman and man) get lavender married--and proceed to spend the Fancy European Honeymoon their parents paid for acting as each other's wingman

[stardatez3ro]

i love that star trek has so many autistic characters that theyve got the whole fucking spectrum in there .on a scale from worf, odo, spock, data, julian, deanna and wesley to picard what type of 'tism do YOU have ?

[turtleblogatlast]

Every day I’m haunted by the fact the boys happily swim in sewer water

Even if it’s filtered somehow there’s no way it’s not still nasty 😭 Bet they can defeat any of their villains just by accidentally giving them diseases I swear

[ryllen]

Sebek & Yuu's teenage child . [insp] .

[pizza-feverdream]

Bitter medicine by the crane wives is about undiagnosed adhd. By the way

[cosmic-walkers]

enough time has passed but something about the way nonblack and even some black people would cling on to louis and be very empathetic and understanding of his struggle as a black queer man, but in the same breath would be very cruel to black women in his narratives like claudia and his sister, and the black girls he pimped out, makes me realize how louis was a character that certain people clung on to to say that they cared about queer black people and our struggles, but because of that they felt they had an excuse to be misogynistic to black women. it's that whole 'louis is my favorite character, he is a black and queer man so even if i say unfair things about the black women in the show, I'm not racist because i like louis'. Keep in mind, Louis himself has a history of repeated violence against black women.

I saw this post on twitter, mostly being consumed by nonblack people and it shocked me the way that people completely reworte grace's character and her relationship with louis to make her seem worse than lestat. nevermind the fact that grace accepted louis and his sexuality and was kind to him, and the only reason she started turning on him was because he became distant and violent after being with lestat.

The need to call an actual black woman racist, when lestat is right there-- who is canonically racist and compared to a slave master is beyond me. but it makes me realize the hostility for black women in shipping spaces, and how a lot of nonblack, and yes, some black people liking louis gives them a certain shield to release that misogynoir because they know at large they won't be held accountable. Loustat is a big ship, the most popular, louis is the most liked character, of course when black women - the most hated people in fandom spaces - go after him it's a free for all.

Keep in mind, this is their mother's service, and both Louis, Claduia and Lestat were incredibly disrespectful. Keep in mind the time, when racism was also a huge issue. So bringing a man who IS racist to a somber BLACK family function like this...yeah... Grace has every right to be mad. Especially after all the chances given.

Op also brings up this scene. Again it's crazy to me how Grace, a Black woman who has also faced this type of racism if not WORSE is suddenly painted as a racist when Lestat himself is standing right there. Yes, back then it was (and still is) racist for white people to call men boys, but assuming that Grace is doing it because of racism, and not the fact that at this point after abandoning his family, Louis lives completely off of Lestat. This again, shows a divide, because why are you as a non-black person calling a Black woman racist and comparing her to a racist lawyer and not his actual racist white bf.

I also saw this response to that very tweet, and we see a person actually happy that louis is violent toward her.

like i mentioned before, louis has a history of violence toward black women. his sister, the girls he pimped and claduia. instead of seeing that as something to be called out about his character, people are extremely happy when he enacts violence toward black women. so yeah, food for thought.

and i also show this pic below. Louis kisses/touches her without her consent. she is afraid of him, he has been violent toward her. he threatens violence against, and he touches/kisses her without her consent to show her that he has the ability to hurt and harm her and no one can stop him if he wants to.

This doesn't stop with Grace.

Like it's clockwork. Louis is violent to Cluadia, and then throughout season 2 in France he is emotionally distant and abusive toward her. her whole existence is to cater to his needs and desires because he wanted her. their relationship started off as a form of exploitation, desire and abuse to please HIM and at the end of the day she suffered for it and he still gets to live, he finds lestat at the end, etc. but black women in his life literally suffer.

Lastly, I wanna say that it's clear louis is in an abusive relationship of some sorts, and I'd be open to talking about that if OP and a lot of other loustat shippers didn't make it seem like Grace is worse to Louis than lestat ever was.

update:

then we have gems like this <3.

[distorted-smile]

They left treats out for Christmas…

I realised as I was doing the background it looks like he got locked in the basement…and I had to keep going with it at that point. I love how snootlike Nim’s face is - very cute. Have a good Christmas @weevmo!

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

Sometimes, Critical Role has these really dark and depressing moments, and makes you consider morality and what it means to be truly alive

And other times, the party tries to convince the enemy that they’re actually in a porno, with varying levels of confusion and embarrassment from the enemy, the DM, and probably the audience as well

[rav3nmuse]

Are you going to finish your webcomic I can't find any black webcomics and yours looks promising. If you finish it I will read it. I tried looking and all I see are Asian and white people as per usual.

Hi, I think you’re referring to this post - that story is by @onyichii i. I don’t make comics currently. I just read a lot and illustrate on the side. You’re in luck I’ve been wanting to make a post about black & brown FL in webcomics. I’m always on the hunt for more webcomics with black leads! These stories can be found on Webtoon ( I know there are stories on tapas - I just don’t like their coin/ink system at all so I very rarely visit). Here are some of the tropes — romance, supernatural, mystery, magic, adventure. I’ve linked the webtoons and the creators behind them - please follow them and support them if you can! ( I might add descriptions for these titles later on but I’m tired so here are links and photos for now )

Here you go:

LMLY by edbe

The Blind Prince by cozycroww

Mad Mortem by Beholden8

Dom & Mor ( GL ) by DyeMeLikeASunset @dyemelikeasunset (I love these two so much )

High School Neoma by orror0

Rose & Sol by nemui_Jelly

21st Century Knights by Plastic Bottru

Holy Hell by Marilyn Hightower

Helja and the Lich King by Ya Big Palooka @heljacomic

He’s Harmless, I Swear by Basil the Bear

Dagger to the Heart by oori

Shinning Star ( GL ) by marshiyan

Heart of Gold by notashleynine

P.E.T.S ( GL ) by Gyxks

Cupid 101 by tanaeart

Pippa & Levi by Onyichii ( sadly this story is discontinued but please support the author in their later projects to come )

Wooow such a large list! Can you believe there’s more im missing ( I’m tireeeed and keep remembering other stories) but hope you all enjoy. I will make a part 2 later on.

[sukugo]

Do you think gojo makes those freaky ass feral expressions while getting dicked down?

YES YES YESSSSSSSSSSS RAAAAAAAAAHHHH THIS IS SOMETHIGN IM PASSIONATE ABOUT OKAY!!!!!!! YES HE DOES

like, pleasure looks such a specific way on satoru. we can see it in the tojigo fight, the hanami/jogo fight and the sukugo fight. they're the only moments where we truly get to see raw pleasure on him and it's that. eyes popping out and manic grin and laughter bubbling in his torso and body charged, and mannerisms especially crude.

there's something so animalistic about it, his "human" mask slipping from him and showing him in all his monstrous glory, unfiltered and raw and like the freak of nature he truly is

and it's exactly the same thing when it comes to sex. it's all pleasure after all.

[ohno-the-sun]

I could not get @oobbbear mad scientist au out of my head I love it so much

[lizstiel]

endless

[londondungeon2]

concept with dullahan! dire crowley OR dullahan! floyd leech, you can imagine either ⁽(◍˃̵͈̑ᴗ˂̵͈̑)⁽

now playing harley poe’s vengeance the demon / close the door / outcrowd

part i. vengeance the demon.

it always starts with you running. it has never once changed; you, desperate and panting, throw yourself across the earth on two lunging legs.

sometimes, you trip. sometimes, you crash into things. but you always keep running and running away from the sound of clomping hooves in pursuit. they echo in the mine ruins that you always find yourself in, sounding like an army of horses instead of the single one giving chase.

one time, you finally manage to reach the end of the mine shaft as you can see these polka dot patterns of light just ahead. you break out into a sprint.

the air is less humid when you burst out of the mines like a bullet passing through a body. you make a wild run for the houses lit by lanterns. pumpkins are on each porch. you end up stumbling into one, acquiring a new shoe, as you throw yourself against the door.

“please! he’ll kill me! he’ll kill me he’ll kill me!”

the only response you get is the window by the door opening just slightly. you almost miss the motion, so focused on pounding your fist against the wood. but through your eyes and the blood and the mud, you manage to spy it. two fingers opening up a crack in the blinds and one single eye peeking at you.

“please … please …” you sniffle, blood and snot a thick mélange running down your lips.

the eye stares at you. it looks like an immovable stone, something that has already made its decision. the light of the glowing pumpkin and lanterns pale in comparison to how bright the eye is.

“i can’t help you, yous folk is marked.”

ii. close the door

the girls and boys at your university hate you. your parents don’t hate you but they don’t like you either. you’re not even sure you like yourself.

the only person (and he’s not even a person) who loves you is your black cat, grim.

grim purrs at you which you take as validation as sweet as boyfriend saying he loves you or as validation as heartwarming as a best friend saying she’s grateful that two of you have become friends because no one gets her like you do. in him, you find validation that you have been missing since you were seven and that boy died at your birthday party.

it wasn’t your fault. your hands were only on the reins because the handler asked you, the birthday girl, if you wanted to hold and guide the horse. you must’ve fucked it up somehow because the horse reeled up, a black stallion of huge proportions looking like something carved into a monolith, before the stallion kicked back his legs and struck a boy in the head.

blood paints over the grass as the first adult came outside with the cake, the beginning of happy birthday on his tongue.

which is why some girls corner you in the bathroom, one wearing a party city horse mask and getting in your face. another kicks the stall, mimicking clop-clop noises with her mouth.

because the town hates you. everyone has always hated you.

it causes you little stress besides tears. what causes you the biggest stress is returning to your dorm, finding your window open yet not finding grim.

you search the streets like mad, shaking tuna treats in your hands.

eventually, you come across paw prints that have found their way into a water storm drain tunnel, those ones cities and towns install to minimize flooding risk. the paw prints are wet and small but you know deep down grim’s in there somewhere.

after some hesitation, you walk in.

it’s dark and humid. and you mean dark as in the only way to tell where walls are is to move your hands outward to check where they lie, you can barely make out shapes in this nebulous black. and you mean humid as your hair is starting to stick to the back of your neck and the place where your inner thighs touch are sweating with a passion.

but you have to find the only person who loves you.

you keep going till your foot catches on something. you don’t trip but you feel around with the sole of your foot, coming to conclusion you are stepping on none other than mine-tracks.

you have to go back. you have to go back! you think with a blinding panic.

but then you hear a meow, soft and faint. gradually, you calm down and call out for grim. please, grim come, you have been traveling too far down this rabbit-hole, both of you need to go home safe and sound.

but he doesn’t come, continuously meowing. a little farther, you can risk going that much for grim.

so you keep going, one of each shoe placed on the sides of the tracks, shaking your bag of tuna treats.

eventually, you come across light. not sparse light like polka dots but bright light that almost blinds you.

they’re celebrating something in a town just a two minute walk away. they are celebrating halloween.

the door on your old life is permanently shut.

iii. outcrowd

grim, you see him. just a bit down the way, he’s weaving through the crowd of people lined up on each side of a giant parade.

you pass by a man breathing fire, another on an elephant, one who is clipping roses from his skin and handing them out to children, another who is — your sight suddenly blurs when two forces hit you with surprising force.

“mama!!” they cry in unison. and two twins with your face but golden eyes gaze up at with love you have never been shown to before by human features.

“i told you two, not to run off during the parade; must i keep you on a leash,” a man with hair split black and white breaks through the crowd.

“oh well now i see why they ran so swiftly,” this mysterious man says as he addresses you. “welcome back, (name); i was worried you weren’t going to make it this year.”

“mama was gonna come this year! dad promised!” the twin on your right says, taking the easy opportunity to slip his hand into yours.

“dad never breaks his promise, uncle crewel! never!” the one on the left clings to your entire arm like a snake.

“i see,” the man tuts, giving you a mischievous wink. “come on then; he also promised to attain this parade,” mumbled under his breath, “if only he stays in the mood to attend this one and not chase his beloved wife around.”

the twins, with a surprising amount of strength, drag you along.

so, against your will, you watch this halloween parade pass by. finally apart of the crowd, loved and cared about by people. not part of that outcrowd that has kept you isolated.

it comes and goes until finally the star of the show arrives, a man cloaked in black, a pumpkin as a head, riding the black stallion from your childhood.

you try to pull away. the twins hold on tight. you watch in betrayal as grim walks up to the horse, only to be scooped lovingly in the arms of the rider, purring away.

that man is going to kill me, you think as he draws closer on that ebony stead of nightmares.

then, finally, he stops his horse in front of you and offers his hand up to you like a man offering up his entire heart, body, and soul. the twin on the right slots your numb hand into the rider’s easily. you are lifted onto the horse, sandwiched between the neck and a warm body, resisting the urge to cry like a baby.

“my wife,” the man behind you breathes amorous on your neck, removing the pumpkin from his face.

a single gold/two gold eyes greet you with such love you almost cry. “how lovely of you to finally join us.”

when he kisses you, you do cry.

[tyresdeg]

kyle kirkwood for jupiter magazine | december 2023

[squeiky]

The audacity of existence.

How dare you be concieved. To be blessed with the touch of angels, you golden haired goddess. How dare you force your reflection upon mine. The audacity to mirror me.

YOU.

I hate you. You are my purgatory, and hell resides within your dastardly light. You are the anthesis to my existance, my purpose, my life. Tormet me by image alone.

Do you know how much you have pained me? How much the mere sight of you, has distorted me? Ruined me? Hurt me? Questions your existance has plauged in my mind?

Look at you, my loathsome copy. You are nothing like me.

So then why?

Why does the universe kiss you gently upon a flushed cheek then heckle and spit on mine? Why are you the beloved golden duckling whilst i remain the unwanted black swan?

Why is it me who must rid myself of my body, blood, and mind. Discarding me of myself to end you? I have done nothing short of effort. I have given myself all to destroying you, to riding the world of you. Yet they love you. They do not love me.

We resemble eachother more than anyone else ever will. It is cruel a fate, to be devoted entirely to destroying a twisted reflection of myself. Burdened by both our images, drowning me in hatred made for both us. Yet you remain free, whilsy i remain prisioner.

It feels, as i seek to destroy you, i destroy myself. So i do. Over and over again. Yet you remain unscathed, bright and beautiful. Whilst i remain broken, left to rot in the mud. Helpless. Afraid. Alone.

Thinking.

What must i do? Who must i be to be kissed by the same light that dared to birth you?

Must i purge myself of all things to simply taste a fraction of it? How will i outshine you? Must I transform my body till there is nothing of me left, just to feel your light crushed beneath mine? Must i erase myself completly? Must i become you? Must i be you?  Must i place my hands against your neck? My lifeless material crushing your ugly flesh to finally hear the last of your breath. Must i feel everyones glare peirce through my unending spine, wishing nothing but breaking every metal bone instead of me?

Must i take their love and desire and rip it from their broken hearts, forcing them to kneel before me and drag your dead light upon me? Must i become king of all things, living, dead and unalive, before i get a fraction, a mere TASTE of your life?

Is that what the world desires of me?

Is THAT what it takes?

my loathsome copy. Your existance is what destroys me. You are everything without me but i am nothing without you.  Yet i am made to end you. To destroy the only thing, the only purpose i have in life.

You all look down upon me. Even my creator, cant seem to look at me without seeing you. Forever i am compared to you. Forever i think of only you. Forever i am destroyed by you. Forever i am devoted to destroying you. Forever i am afriad. Forever i am chained, cursed to this wretched body, reflecting you.

YOU.

I hate you. I loathe you.

....

What a cruel existance to be born, you and I.

I hope when i choke you death, you'll burn me alive.