#i pictured it the whole time i wrote it

[markscherz]

do you like tuataras ..

Yeah they're okay I guess

[cosmogyros]

Literally can't pay my rent until I get paid for September, which hasn't happened yet. Today is Friday, and Monday is the last day of the month. I'm so tired of being poor.

[andromaqves]

which fictional character was Emma Mountebank's gay awakening?

I was sitting here looking at this for like ten seconds and then my answer entered stage left at light speed and hit me like a brick to the face: she def didn't REALIZE it at the time but like, in hindsight... Emma's Gay Awakening was Lara Croft circa 2001. The Angelina Jolie!Lara era.

Honorable mention to Evie's sai fight in The Mummy Returns (also 2001)

[ripcarrotchan]

taro buys jiro a weird-looking kitty plushie

(this is a scene from my fic about taro and jiro going to the park and jiro getting a plushie! ;;w;;)

[crossbackpoke-check]

Substance, Shadow, and Spirit [remixed, abridged] by Tao Yuanming

[pardonmydelays]

lin-manuel miranda

show me one (1) picture or video of him

anon, i'm sorry (i'm not), but this is my religion.

[uygfiug]

back to thinking i should never speak to another human being again

[uglygirlstatus]

I WANT to watch hate crimes md so bad but hospital dramas make my medical anxiety go so extra crazy

[etapereine]

in the midst of trying to write something else i just got slammed into by the idea of a bending au

[keicordelle]

I know the chief advice for artists is to create for yourself, but I don't usually write just for me. I mean, I rarely write things I'm not at least a little invested it -- I choose the pairings, and the plot, and of course even when I'm writing for someone else it's going to have a piece of me in it. But when I'm writing, I'm pretty well always doing it with an audience in mind. As a general rule, I don't feel particularly compelled to write things out just for me. I'm usually content to just leave them as daydreams and fantasies, rather than put in the work of putting it onto paper. Writing is meant to be read, and I'm not really in the habit of rereading my own writing (I should. I know I should. But I don't, really)

But I think I'm going to take the time to write something really, terribly self indulgent. It's been... A year? Two? Since I wrote something just for me. I think a return to my roots would do me some good. Time to kill the reader in my head and write the most egregiously self-fulfilling fic I can come up with.

[yououghtaknow]

feeling myself Actually move on is insane..... what do you Mean i don't want to cry every time i see her????

[mythvoiced]

-. bro... i'm... bro this draft thing is actually working BRO- hehe~

[svtskneecaps]

i keep hearing noise about a linked universe discord where is this. where can i find this. i wanna lurk.

[sagittariangirl27]

[mooseyspooky]

just

[dyed-petals]

i had a dream my parents gave me up when i was young. i came home from school one day and they told me they didnt want me anymore.

but that isnt what the dream was about. i knew that already.

it was a dream about being wanted.

my older cousin had a room for me, a whole country away, with exposed auburn wood and a big bed. big canvasses, with tubs of paint. a soft carpet. billboards for photos of memories i would make. set up for me like the aquarium for a long waited fish of an excited child.

que parecidas from the lips of relatives and strangers alike. it means ‘how seeming’. or ‘how belonging.’ they were commenting on how we look alike. we do. i could almost let myself forget i wasnt always here.

my cousins children became my little sisters. i did ballet with mis hermanitas down the hallways of our home. they dont know theres someone who called me hermanita too - i could almost let myself forget that, too.

my old friends called me sometimes, but less and less, as i started forgetting english. maybe as i forgot the words for friend and mom and sister i’d forget them too. maybe i could let myself remember only amigo y mamá y hermana. only the ones that wanted me.

but not when you called me. i could feel the dream realize - i didnt know you yet when i left - you can’t be here. large oilspilled hands replaced your face with someone else. someone who made sense in a timeline where i am wanted. you don’t make sense here. but you wiped off all the other faces. it was always you. breaking through. reaching out to me.

i couldn’t forget. not you. i wished i could. i clung to this dream where i was wanted. i didnt want to remember. you hugged me as it begun to rain. the murals i painted on my walls washed away drop my drop. until downpours claimed my dance trophies and tutus. my pictures of made-up friends. the walls dripped bare until through the haze of rain it was my real life again.

but you still hugged me.

it was a dream about being wanted. it still was.