#i............. simply feel like this cannot be true

[snzunii]

( read part one here )

it wasn't unusual for your friends that you and satoru don't get along that well. it’s obvious, you make snarky comments about his triumph of the week every now and then but it was unusual for them when satoru wasn't bragging about some girl anymore.

and you weren't even making side comments about how he doesn't have any new “girl” for the week now. at first, it was suguru who noticed it. 

but then come shoko, then of course, utahime. how can they not notice when your petty bickering is part of the group gatherings? how can they not notice when you weren't rolling your eyes anymore everytime that satoru’s opening his mouth?

“what the hell is wrong with the two of you? did you fight?” it was suguru who broke the ice.

can you blame them? they can't take this weird shit that’s happening, whatever it is. 

“huh?” you looked up from your phone, “fight? who?”

“don't play dumb.” shoko says, “you and satoru. did you two fight?”

huh, fight. more like, did you two have sex a week ago and it has been awkward ever since? yeah, more like that. you glance at satoru and he looks at you knowingly, just waiting for whatever you're going to say.

you chuckled awkwardly, “we didn't. i just don't like talking to him, you know.”

and before they could probe even further, you stood up. “i’m heading to the store, do you guys want anything?”

they just raised their brows at you and when they all looked at satoru, he just shrugged his shoulders. 

“nothing? okay.” 

“i’m coming with you.”

and that made them more confused because why the hell would satoru go with you, just the two of you, alone? but they just shrugged it off, and you two walked out of suguru’s condo unit. 

you don't even know why he would go with you. it’s true that you haven't talked since, but you figure that there’s nothing to talk about because it’s never going to happen again. it’s just a one time thing.

“huh.” you heard him say. you stopped walking and glanced back at him.

“what?”

“you don't like talking to me, but you just like sticking your tongue down my throat?”

you cannot believe this. 

you wanna smack that grin right off his face.

“you’re so fucking annoying!” you marched towards the elevator as fast as you could but somehow he just caught up on you.

“hey. i’m sorry, okay. i’ll stop.” he said and reached for your arm, “YN.”

“what? what the fuck do you want?”

“i just want to talk.” you scoff, the elevator opens and you walk in. “can we please just talk?”

“then talk.” you crossed your arm, still avoiding his gaze. you don't know what you're feeling and you don't know how to react, maybe that’s why you’re acting out right now.

it wasn't supposed to be this way, you were supposed to be just friends.

he was supposed to be just your friend who annoys you every now and then with his antics. “how can we talk if you’re not looking at me?”

“just talk—”

he pressed the emergency stop button and now, great, you’re stuck with him. “what’d you do that for?”

“i just want to make sure you’re okay with what happened. and i’m sorry if that made you feel uncomfortable in any way—”

“stop.” you looked at him, “i’m okay. and i think we both wanted that to happen, you don't need to say sorry. i just want to go back to the way it was, okay? it’s not going to happen again, so…”

“okay.” he simply answered, he pressed the button again and just backed up. the silence envelopes the two of you as you wait for the elevator to reach the ground floor. 

you sighed a relief when you heard the ding! but before it opens, satoru says something before walking past you.

“except, i don't want things to go back the way it was.”

now, why the hell would he say that?

[itsmygarbagepail]

Fun(?) anecdote from real life: I know multiple people who were raised in a woman-only feminist lesbian circle in the 80s where they all raised their kids together. Like, they were really trying to make a man-free micro society thing happen, lived together in women-only houses, started their own women-run businesses, and obtained semen through various means that didn't include a relationship with a man. They were really serious about this.

About half of them went on to have children. And some of them had boys. Or at least children that were assigned male at birth. They also had girls, obviously.

I don't think this setting was good for either the girls or the boys, and I know some samples of both.

The ones that were assigned male at birth, really struggled for multiple reasons:

They were initially part of this really supportive and kind community, showered with love and affection from a lot of mother figures. But around 5 years old, some of the women stopped being comfortable with having those boys in their spaces. Which means boys were kicked out of the only community they knew, and the only community their moms were a part of. At 5 years of age. Holy abandonment issues, batman.

They were surrounded by women who thought that all of humanity's problems were caused by men. They were surrounded by women who thought all sexism was the fault of men (surprise! a lot of misogyny is perpetuated by women! it sucks but it's true!) They were surrounded by messages that said that women were victims and men were violent, harmful beings.

They were told a lot that they had to be very careful to not talk over others, to respect other peoples' boundaries, to be gentle and kind, etc, which is great as far as it goes- but they weren't told about respecting their own boundaries, or stepping up for themselves, or protecting themselves from harm.

About half the women in that group were what was called at the time a 'political lesbian' which means they were choosing to ignore their attraction to men because they thought men were, to put it simply, bad and not trustworthy. Do think of the message that that sends to their children.

If you were thinking that this would lead to some really depressed individuals who hated themselves/their gender/their sex (and not like, in a trans way, but in a "men are abusive assholes, and I'm a man, therefore I must be bad despite a lack of any evidence to support that position" way, along with a feeling that you're doomed to be an asshole), who ended up getting taken advantage of and hurt by others, you'd be right. Really, really depressed. And hating every part of them that is considered masculine . That is not, needless to say, healthy.

But that's just the amab side. I've known a few women who were raised in that setting and:

They were taught that they had to be tough, and assertive, and make them selves heard.

They were taught that men are bad, and men were looking to hurt them

They were taught that men are not and cannot be allies, and will never be able to learn enough to be a good ally

So, as adults:

They automatically think they are smarter and more ethical than men.

They think men will never understand feminism (even though it's really not that difficult of a concept??? Like, seriously. It's not hard.)

They end up being straight up mean to their sexual partners (because being lesbian isn't infectious, so most of them are straight) and other male loved ones; being disrespectful, not listening to them when they bring up issues, belittling and shaming them.

Thinking that men are always wrong, so making fun of them for say, wearing sun screen. Yes, really. Sun screen.

Straight up tell men who were raised by the same feminist lesbians they were, who were taught feminism explicitly by their (shared) mothers and again in college, that lived and breathed feminism from birth, that they just couldn't understand sexism or feminism, and that they could never be a feminist.

Pigeon-hole their amab quasi-siblings as sexist and pathetic man babies, despite their siblings' partners explicitly saying, "no, he does more of the house work than I do. No, he's more emotionally skilled and does as much or more of the emotional labor than I do. No, we're equal partners. No, actually, we're both agender, so stop putting your (stupid) gender essentialism on us."

Have a huge double standard- if a childfree woman doesn't know how to change a diaper, that's a non-issue. If a childfree man (with vasectomy even) doesn't know how to change a diaper, well clearly he's sexist and just expects women to take care of the babies.

When one of their amab siblings comes out as trans, completely flip their behavior from the above, and immediately take on the protective, let-me-show-you-the-ropes big sister role. Has the person changed? Nope. But they're no longer a man so now their feelings matter.

To their credit, the women that were raised this way that I still talk to have gotten better, once enough women and assorted non-men pointed out their behavior. So, yay, growth.

The folks who were assigned male at birth? They're doing better now; I've managed to convince the one that I'm married to that they're not evil because of their genitalia, and I've even managed to convince them that they don't have to let other people belittle them and trample all over them.

In sum, I think we should teach everyone to both stand up for themselves and be assertive and also to be able to listen to and respect others. To maintain their own boundaries, and respect other peoples' boundaries. To be kind, to themselves and others.

i used to be a kind of 'i think we need spaces with no men but in a trans-inclusive woman-positive way' person but the more i grow i think that whole idea is pretty flawed from the core? because like, 'no men' is reactionary thing by nature, but it also, like people much more learnt than me have said, suggests that the only way to create meaningful feminist spaces is by excluding men entirely? and 1. thats not true and 2. that bodes badly for a feminist future! as badly as some people might want it we are not becoming lesbian geckos any time soon.

the ways in which its flawed definitely interface w transmisogyny - and i think some antifeminists describe ideology like this as 'segregating the genders!!' in a way thats Wrong, but like, it's important that if we want a feminist future, people who might be percieved as men are accepted and allowed to learn and treated as people with equal potential to create a more just world and some of them become women and thats awesome and some of them dont, yaknow? fundamentally it comes back to the radfem idea that 'the people i think are Men have a sort of Evil Particle in them' being so unconducive to a meaningful feminist movement cos it prevents people from sharing their own experiences under the patriarchy and forming solidarity. it also positions the ultimate conflict of society as Men vs Women which very handily erases a lot of other lines of oppression in a way that benefits the white women who perpetrate it.

thats my feminist thinkpiece for the day

[solxamber]

HEHEHGIGUGI ITS ME AGAIN THE SERAPHIM AND THE CAT ONE

Can i request a witch reader with Vil, Rook, Trey, and Malleus!! (I forgot if its 4 limits or 5, whoops but only that) You can write however you like if its headcannon or how you write it!! Also can you do it on Romantic shshsh‼️‼️🫶🫶

Rook, Trey, Malleus, Vil with a Witch! Reader

hi! thank you for waiting and i hope you like it <3 (also there aren't limits for number of characters)

Rook Hunt

Rook, a true romantic and ever-curious soul, is constantly mesmerized by your craft. He adores watching you work, fascinated by every detail, and often appears just as you’re about to cast a spell, like he knows exactly when something extraordinary is about to happen.

One evening, he surprises you mid-ritual, leaning in to whisper, “Ah, the witch at work, casting beauty into the world.”

“Rook!” you laugh, a little flustered. “Aren’t you supposed to give me space to concentrate?”

“On the contrary,” he says, eyes sparkling. “Watching you brings me closer to the divine. It’s as if each spell you cast is an invitation to witness your heart.”

As he speaks, he presses a kiss to your hand, his words a spell of their own. You find yourself captivated by the unique magic only Rook can create—a blend of curiosity, charm, and unshakable devotion.

Trey Clover

Trey is both grounded and warm, and he respects your magical abilities without a hint of fear. Whenever you experiment with potion-making, he’s your quiet supporter, ready with any ingredient you need.

One evening, you’re preparing a special love potion—just for fun—and Trey chuckles as you explain the recipe.

“What, you don’t believe in love potions?” you ask, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, I believe,” he replies, pulling a stray leaf from your hair, “but I don’t think you need one. You’ve already cast your spell on me.”

You feel your face heat up, but Trey simply smiles, his gaze gentle and warm. He reaches for your hand, his fingers intertwining with yours. "Let’s skip the potions,” he says softly. “You and I don’t need magic for this.”

Malleus Draconia

Malleus is captivated by your magic, drawn to you as if he’s known you for centuries. He’s endlessly curious about your spells, often standing nearby as you perform them, his eyes watching with reverence.

One misty evening, he finds you crafting a charm under the moonlight. As you finish, Malleus steps forward, his expression unusually soft. “Your magic… it has a warmth that even my fae spells lack.”

“You flatter me, Malleus,” you reply, smiling up at him. “I’m honored to have caught the attention of someone so powerful.”

He takes your hand, pressing a kiss to your knuckles with an old-world elegance. “Power means little to me if it cannot protect what is precious.” His gaze is intense, holding yours. “And you, my dear witch, are precious indeed.”

Under the stars, Malleus’s words hang in the air, leaving a warmth that feels like it could last an eternity.

Vil Schoenheit

Vil has always been enchanted by beauty in its many forms, but there's something about your magic that captivates him in a way he never expected. He watches you as you work, studying your movements as if each one were part of an intricate dance. One evening, he finds you under the warm glow of candlelight, carefully crafting an enchantment, your hands moving gracefully over the ingredients.

He steps closer, his voice smooth and gentle. “Do you realize the spell you’ve woven on me without even trying?” he murmurs, his eyes fixed on you.

You smile, slightly flustered but intrigued. “I could say the same about you, Vil.”

Vil reaches for your hand, brushing his thumb over your knuckles. “Then perhaps I’ve found the magic that surpasses any potion, any spell.” His gaze is intense, unwavering, as if he’s seeing right through to your soul. “Stay close to me, won’t you?” he asks softly, the hint of vulnerability in his words surprising but endearing.

With a smile, you nod, finding comfort in his presence. Vil leans in, pressing a lingering kiss to your forehead, his touch gentle and reverent. “You’re more captivating than any beauty I’ve ever known,” he whispers, his voice filled with a sincerity that leaves your heart racing.

In that quiet moment, it’s clear that he isn’t just drawn to your magic—he’s drawn to you.

Masterlist

[zaynelusmusings]

Winter's surprisingly warm in September

Synopsis: M/C loves Zayne, and Zayne loves M/C. They spend a week away in a quiet cottage to celebrate Zayne's birthday. Zayne is thankful, yet he cannot truly express it in the way he wants to but he finds a way.

Word Count:c2.5k 

Warning/s: None, just good ol' fluff hehe.

Note: I had initially posted this on A03 for Zayne's birthday but had only gotten around to proofreading it and making some changes. If there are any other grammatical mistakes welp sorry call it a rebellion against the coloniser's language lmfaooo.

______________________________________________________________

Zayne is not a cold and indifferent man, he really is not. It is simply that his bashful grins and crinkles beside his eyes are solely reserved for one. Locked and kept away for years on end - he had known for just as long that she had held the key. It was merely a test of his patience and trust in fate that she had taken her time to realise her ownership.

His passive face is one that she and everyone else have grown accustomed to, so it warms her to no end when he spoils her with his boisterous laughter and endless affection. She likes it though (almost feels selfish too sometimes) yet the fact that this side of him is reserved solely for her? She treasures it like an intimate secret, the honourable one he’d chosen to bear witness to his most vulnerable moments and parts. As beautiful as the raw Zayne is, a protective lover she is - she’d close the blinds at anyones else’s attempt to steal a peek at her treasure trove.

It is snowing, and Zayne looks right at home. Sure, it is a little on the nose, with his Evol being ice after all. But he is beautiful, the green in his eyes the perfect apology for the lack of leaves, all fallen as nature dances into the cold season. She wonders sometimes, if he realises that every part of his body and character sung symphonies and wrote poetry illustrating nature’s best work. A crimson shade has found home across his cheeks, a little due to the cold, many due to her unbashful flirtation. She loves complimenting him and is very well aware that she does it a lot, but she likes to think of it as making amends for all of the time lost from forcing the distance between themselves from each other. 

It was a funny yet regretful story that she would hope to tell their future children. About how she went so long bearing the weight of forcing her true feelings to the side out of fear of rejection from him? A seasoned hunter in combat she was, but even the bravest soldiers lack the courage to bear vulnerability.

As frustrating fate can be sometimes, it can also be sweet. She had determined that her and Zayne are fated to be together - a little cliche - the Doctor who heals, and the reckless hunter who gets hurt. But as puzzle pieces go, opposing shapes are the best pair. Hence, despite their feeble attempts to stay away from each other, it was always fated that they would end up together anyway. Despite, despite, despite.

Despite how a chief cardiac surgeon and a hunter’s schedules would never compliment one another. Despite the fact he still hasn’t found a cure for her heart condition (and it pains him to no end after each working day of research that leads to nowhere, so much so that he feels unworthy to be sleeping in the same bed as her at night). Despite the fact that he isn’t able to tell her that he loves her. (He does, very much so.)

Despite betraying Astra to love her, only to be punished for doing so.

But reasons of despite were set aside this weekend, the swirls of adoration and awe crystal clear in her eyes as she watches Zayne pet the black stray cat and welcome it into their lodging - a quaint cottage by the mountains. Nestled near the fireplace, she watches quietly as the raven haired doctor brushes snow off the feline’s fur, his voice an octave higher as he coos at the cat. The black cat, one that Zayne muses has the same mannerisms as his lover, nuzzles its head thankfully against his warm and large palm. The faint buzz of its purr is telling of the cat’s fondness of Zayne. Well, it seems like this gentle and loving side of him is reserved for two now.

“Found him underneath the bench outside,” Zayne chuckles as it begins to knead its wet paws on his trousers, but he paid no mind to the now soiled material. “Three’s not a crowd, right?” He briefly glances at her, still a little distracted by the cat.

She watches it all, and feels it in her chest. The way her heart races, the tingle in her fingers as she clutches the material of her knit sweater - Zayne is too good to be true. She swears she physically feels the atoms of love form within her chest, and her discipline wears thin soon enough as she makes her way over to the raven haired pair by the front door.

“Not at all, as long as he’s okay with sharing Doctor Zayne with me.” Folding her legs, she also begins petting the cat, and the purring grows impossibly louder. They both laugh, and he feels his heart squeeze too. He could not ask for more, no. His lover, a warm purring companion and a fireplace. Santa had packaged and wrapped up his gift in this quaint cottage. Zayne immediately says a prayer of gratitude, a pang of panic and fear attempting to whisper distractions into his brain. But Zayne wills them away, he refuses to give into the possibility (or as the narrator of his life would call ‘inevitability’) of losing her and the heartbreak that will follow suit - not tonight anyway.

In an ideal world, this is the life he would be able to live everyday. They’d both be married, and he’d come home to a cat and her. It’d be cold outside, but it’d be warm inside. Zayne doesn’t think he’s asking for much, too. Home could just be four walls, and a symphony made of their combined laughter and their cat’s purrs would be the only song he’d have playing on the vinyl. 

In this world of reality, they’d be back to the status quo. Zayne would be ending a day of surgeries with at least three hours of research (that would still lead to more disappointing revelations) and she would be deep in quarantine zones fighting wanderers. (Her occupation does nothing, maybe only worse things for his anxiety for her safety and health) It is then another four days of yearning and rounds of nervous regulations before he has her safe and sound in his arms again. He’ll have the kettle of green tea freshly brewed for her in the kitchen, her (his) favourite worn our Akso Hospital staff t-shirt and cotton shorts laid out on the bed, and the new crime documentary about the case she hasn’t stopped babbling about ready to go on the television screen.

Reality isn’t bad at all though, he thinks. Any reality with her in it is one worth sacrificing for. 

“Hm, are you saying you’d be okay with sharing? I remember the sigh you gave me when I asked for a bite of your dessert.” He teases her, pressing a kiss against her cold cheek. The chilliness of her skin makes him frown immediately, and he stands up carefully, pulling him with her. The softness in his eyes fade a little, worry glazing them instead. “You’re cold. You should get under the covers in the bedroom. I’ll get the heater going.” Nothing gets him back into the stern and moody character than his worry for her. He plays around with different reasons as to why, but it is exceptionally hard for him to see her cold, especially. (It’s because in some other world, he freezes her as an act of retribution for her attempts to steal the Creatio Protocore.)

Everyone loves their Evol, humans were always encouraged to celebrate their unique types of Evols - but not Zayne. Perhaps it was because he still hasn’t figured out how to control it the same way everyone else is capable of doing so. The ice, though woven in his DNA, is never truly his companion - only a fair-weathered friend who has more loyalty to Astra than to him. He’s well familiar with the freezing pain caused by his own Evol. The same freezing pain he has to endure, enough to make him nauseous to think if even a hint of it was felt by his beloved. So, in this world, he usually settles for this reason as to why he simply cannot stand seeing her cold.

Sighing, she slides her arms around his waist, her red nose nuzzling against the thick material of his sweater. “It’s snowing outside, of course I’m a little cold. But I’m okay, I was just waiting for you.” Her voice is muffled against his clothes, her nose scrunching as the fibres of his sweater tickles her skin. Slowly, his shoulders relax, though the frown on his face stubbornly stays. He sighs, but wraps his arms around her shoulders. “Thank you for waiting for me. We should get in bed now.”

And so they do. Nestled underneath the thick blanket, Zayne exudes the opposite of his Evol. He is a man of warmth, her own personal furnace as she continues to nuzzle herself closer against her lover. A familiar thought intrudes her brain, he is too good to be true.

Little does she know, Zayne feels the same way. Despite the complex lore of their story and compounded complication of their fates, Zayne knows one thing - he loves truly and deeply. True to his Evol, the icy terrors are already covering his skin as soon as he begins to form the intention of rolling a syllable of the three words off his tongue. 

Astra was a being that Zayne has grown to hate, yet knows that he would still get on his knees in gratitude for their mercy upon him for he is still able to show his affection for her with little to no consequences. He’ll take anything, anything at all. A prized possession like her, the exact molecules that both the sun and moon are made of – oh to be graced by her presence, it is more than enough reason for him to pilgrim Astra’s both heaven and hell.

“Thank you for bringing me here,” his voice barely a whisper as his arms naturally pull her closer against his chest, their blushing noses meeting for a brief moment. “This is truly a birthday I will remember for the rest of my life.” He speaks so earnestly that it causes a flip in his own stomach, his own body physically reacting to the profound feeling of love in his chest.

“Thank you for letting me celebrate your birthday with you.” She knew that Zayne had never truly celebrated his birthday, and the fact broke her heart. While she also knew that it was not necessarily something Zayne got upset over, the fact being of his own scheduling faults too, it was a habit she wanted to break. She’d spent everyday celebrating this man if she could, and the day Earth was graced of this kind and selfless man was not a day she planned to take lightly. Hence, after pulling some strings and endless communication with his colleagues at work, here they are. 

She feels the emotions bubble up in her once again, unknowingly causing a jerk reaction of her fingers to clench around the material of his sweater and she whimpers. With furrowed brows and an immediate worry, Zayne gushes out, “What’s wrong? Is your heart in pain?”

Shaking her head immediately to soothe his worries, she releases her grip on his sweater promptly as her cold fingers gently caress the smooth skin of his face. 

“Zayne,” she begins, her voice laced with shyness.

“My love.. If it hurts, you must let me know.” She feels his grip on her waist tighten ever so slightly. “It’s not my heart. I’m okay, I promise.” Biting on the flesh of her lower lip, her eyes darted down to his own plump ones. Her impulse wins, and she presses a chaste kiss onto his lips. Sighing, she rests her forehead against his and feels his body relax soon after. “I love you, Zayne.”

It isn’t not a profound confession, it was something she knew that he knew. But she also is aware of his condition, and the curse of it all that prevents him from saying it back.

It truly doesn’t matter to her though, because a lover like Zayne would never make her doubt his true feelings for her. Through his gentle caresses, the separate kettle of green tea that he brews her (despite the fact that he likes coffee, and she doesn’t), the safe late night rides back to her apartment after her long hunting days (and his very own long night of surgical procedures) – she knew that he loves her.

She feels his eyes flutter open, a pained look in her green orbs. Swirls of guilt are evident in his green orbs and though this look would have fooled people into thinking he was guilty for not feeling the same way, she knew that it was because he couldn’t repeat the sentiments.

“Shh, It’s okay.” She shakes her head, pressing yet another kiss to his now trembling lips. “I love you, Zayne. I’m not saying it because I need to hear it back. I’m saying it because that’s how I feel. I’m telling you, Zayne.” Her voice shakes against her will. “I love you, Zayne. I want you to know that I love you. I want to tell you that I love you.”

“And I don’t need to hear it back. I know you do.” Her fingers move to the back of his head, as they comb gently through his raven locks. “I don’t want to not say it, just because you can’t say it. I love you, Zayne.”

It isn’t the first time she has said it either, but definitely is one of very few times, considering their situation. She wishes to change this fact, because a man like him deserves to be showered with love. The grip on her waist tightens, and she swears she hears him let out a whimper before his lips crashes against hers.

“Thank you.” He whispers, voice wavering ever so slightly (but she doesn’t miss it), and he moves impossibly closer to her. “I love you too.”

It is now her turn to be in panic, yet before she could even protest, he continues despite the wince on his face, the thin layer of ice already beginning to form on the side of his neck. “But more importantly, I live for you.” He confesses through a pained voice. “This curse, or whatever pain life may bring me, I promise to live for you. So that I can take care of you.” He blows air out of his mouth as he awaits for the ice to melt away - and it seems like Astra beared mercy this time - it does so quickly enough under her touch.

He smiles tiredly as the pain fades, nudging her nose with his own. “I live for you.” He repeats, and immediately, she understands what it exactly means.

Because it will hurt - he knows that. The curse is a curse that he knows would not ever be retracted. Despite the exhaustion that plights him, despite the fate of pain written in his destiny, he lives for her.

“I love you.” She whispers.

“I live for you.” He echoes.

Author's note: Anyway it's been like 927492 years since I had tumblr so I started this blog anew!!I've been creeping on here to satiate my LNDS cravings so I thought I'd join the fun lol. Pls enjoy and feel free to send in requests/prompts (I am in my 20s but I refuse to write smut lol)

[kalashtars]

what if tumblr. did not, in fact, do this.

[mitchfynde]

There's only one evil. The Democratic party is simply not evil. Government itself has an evil element that you cannot disconnect from it. That's true. But that's not the fault of the Democrats. A country must have laws, it must be governed, it must have rules, and a lot of this stuff has to be done democratically. Do you know how hard it is to make good changes democratically? People are not smart. Our brains are not built for high intellect. Our intellect seems to be mostly a side effect of our strange evolution.

Now, all that aside, I'd like there to be a better system. Some kind of different system of voting that empowers third parties would be very cool. That being said, a lot of what you are saying is just conspiracy shit you've bought into. You think some random third party is going to care more than the Democrats? Why? Based on what? And based on what do you believe they don't care or are evil?

There's barely any substance to what you're saying. You're actually a big part of why American is declining as a nation. People no longer give a fuck about facts. Figures like Ben Shapiro used to say "facts don't care about your feelings" and he was RIGHT, but in that truth he hid a massive lie. He didn't have as many facts as he was letting on and alternative media as a whole is the same.

Whatever you're watching or listening to... I hate to say it, but it's most likely in some way influenced by Russian propaganda to destabilize the west. You're right that someone wants to divide you, and they already have. You spreading this foolish idea that we can all unite, when nobody fucking agrees ON ANYTHING or even understands any facts of the matter... it's all foolishness. This is idiocracy and you're just another idiot.

let me say this.

there is not a single person at the top that cares about you. none of them will fight for you the way you fight for them. you could die tomorrow and they wouldn’t even notice. the illusion politicians put up of hatred towards each other is just to keep the american people fighting amongst themselves instead of turning on those who have truly failed them.

we’re dogs in a ring, and they’re laughing spectators. it’s about time we maul them instead of each other.

there have always been more of us than them. we need to care of each other now more than ever. fuck politicians. fuck the government. change starts within our communities, within us. fuck voting and fuck the two party system. it’s all designed to keep us begging for scraps and i’m sick and goddamn tired of scraps. all of us are.

care for your neighbors. donate to food banks. grow a vegetable garden. don’t bother with these rich fucks, because none of them give two tits of a rats asshole about any of us, so we shouldn’t give one about them. want someone to get angry at? blame the people in power. blame the greedy bastards that will happily screw you over for even a second of benefit for themselves. this is no one fault but theirs. not black men. not latinos. not people who didn’t vote. not anyone else who twitter is blaming right now.

as long as we are divided, the very assholes we don’t want in power will stay in power. don’t let them control you anymore. tear it all down. we can dismantle their whole plan for control by simply taking care of each other. do it not just for yourselves, but for every single child that will inherit this world in the future.

[angelnumber27]

I dont think some people understand how truly awful and hellish withdrawals from some psych medications are.

[hadesknockedupintheunderworld]

Madk's mangaka is one of the few people who truly understands the old adage

Love and hate are two sides of the same coin

[poisoned-pearls]

Finished the line art for them!! I have both toned it irl and plan to digitally color it, but I like how this looks too so

Fankid run through under cut

From right to left: Vivienne Schoenheit (Rookvil) Faraja Kingscholar (Leona) Ellie Felmier (Epeldeuce) Samir Al-Asim (Silkali) Nami Ashengrotto (Jamiazu) Neo shroud (Idikei) Emil Schoenheit (rookvil) Tamaki Leech (Treyjade) Mallerie and Malick Draconia (Malleyuu)

[lesbiansanemi]

Google how to make peace with the fact that you will always be vaguely to extremely uncomfortable (depending on the day) with your body and how others perceive it until the day you die and nothing you do will ever change that

[alliluyevas]

that's literally nicki my best friend nicki

[triglycercule]

give me more horrorkiller content i say as i proceed to post solely about full mtt/mttpoly. i cant I CANT i cant just SOLELY post about one of the duos...... i cant JUST post about 2/3 of them it upsets me. everything MUST be in a trio of else i merge into my bed and rip my skin off when i try to get up

[justthatspiffy]

.

[bitegore]

Genuinely fucking batshit how some people will act as though the bare minimum level of care + respect for the people around them with different problems is like, an insurmountable fucking bar

[mumblesplash]

forgive me pls for importing even the barest shadow of twitter art discourse but i genuinely kinda love the ‘fanart is the lazy way to build a following! you’re taking the easy way out!!’ takes.

like first of all: hell yeah i sure hope it does. and second of all we both know if it was actually easy you would have created fanart instead of this tweet

[runninguplenorahills]

I read someone say: “Mike projected his misery over his fight with Will onto the roller skate incident” and it was honestly one of the smartest things anyone has ever said. This might’ve been obvious but seeing it written down really opened my third eye. Unfortunately I can’t remember who said it ://

read the tags for a little but more elaboration and another smart thing I said lmao