#im not convinced tho

[talk-danmei-to-me]

Looks familiar...

[inkskinned]

this is just my opinion but i think any good media needs obsession behind it. it needs passion, the kind of passion that's no longer "gentle scented candle" and is now "oh shit the house caught on fire". it needs a creator that's biting the floorboards and gnawing the story off their skin. creators are supposed to be wild animals. they are supposed to want to tell a story with the ferocity of eating a good stone fruit while standing over the sink. the same protective, strange instinct as being 7 and making mud potions in pink teacups: you gotta get weird with it.

good media needs unhinged, googling-at-midnight kind of energy. it needs "what kind of seams are invented on this planet" energy and "im just gonna trust the audience to roll with me about this" energy. it needs one person (at least) screaming into the void with so much drive and energy that it forces the story to be real.

sometimes people are baffled when fanfic has some stunning jaw-dropping tattoo-it-on-you lines. and i'm like - well, i don't go here, but that makes sense to me. of fucking course people who have this amount of passion are going to create something good. they moved from a place of genuine love and enjoyment.

so yeah, duh! saturday cartoons have banger lines. random street art is sometimes the most precious heart-wrenching shit you've ever seen. someone singing on tiktok ends up creating your next favorite song. youtubers are giving us 5 hours of carefully researched content. all of this is the impossible equation to latestage capitalism. like, you can't force something to be good. AI cannot make it good. no amount of focus-group testing or market research. what makes a story worth listening to is that someone cares so much about telling it - through dance, art, music, whatever it takes - that they are just a little unhinged about it.

one time my friend told me he stayed up all night researching how many ways there are to peel an orange. he wrote me a poem that made me cry on public transportation. the love came through it like pith, you know? the words all came apart in my hands. it tasted like breakfast.

[soranker]

98 lovemail doodles >_<

[choccy-milky]

seb and clora working on baby #1 👶 🔞🔞!! NSFW !!🔞🔞

[poipiku]

[twitter]

[ikeepforgettimypassword]

Community is a show about a Christian Mother and a Bigoted Billionaire surrounded by the worst bisexuals they've ever met

[necronyancy]

wacky horse yuri

[kenmaiii]

suffering so i gave sampo period cramps to make me feel better (•́⍜•̀)

[archivebottles]

finally free from not being able to draw the past two months omg..to celebrate here are some elsters from last week...i like her

[myrquez]

rewatched today’s press conference at least 3 times to analyze and scrutinize the every tiniest bit of movement in their eyeballs and the funniest shit to me was the immediate, silent stare marc and pecco shared as soon as the journalist asked the question ( “who would you chose between marc and jorge as a teammmate” ) while also totally forgetting about jorge’s existence

pretty boy was like the fuck should I say now?

and marc’s chaotic ass was just.. ENJOYING. thriving, even. psychological warfares and such, lemme see if you know how to play this silly game bag-naia

and then there was jorge. standing in the middle of the asylum just having the most silent, discreet hysterical breakdown ever, side-eyeing pecco at every given opportunity with some of the cuntiest headtilts ever known to mankind which in my eyes screamed im fucked bc nobody was actually paying attention to him

[bruciemilf]

love seeing you go crazy over batlantern i’ve got a working theory it’s impossible to act normal about them

YOUR THEORY IS CORRECT. In my mind, they’re the “introvert getting adopted by an extrovert but against their will” trope. Hal can and will force Bruce to have a torturous 10 minute small talk with the barista at his Batbucks.

He agreed to come to Gotham so it’ll be on His terms how they hang out. It doesn’t help that Hal lies and tells everyone HE’s Batman in an Iron Man fashion.

[everytimewetouch-dot-mp3]

<< previous

omega disciple shen yuan au pt 2 electric boogaloo

cw for the sex pest again but…mans will not be returning lmao (nor will that theme, probably)

shen yuan is nine years old when the brothel madam—nainai, she insists—starts having him run errands. picking up tea from the mings’ shop down the road, dropping off letters and packages for people around town. he’s gotten stronger, healthier. the farmers who sold him must not have fed him much. he’s gone from stick thin to youthfully soft; the dark smudges beneath his eyes have lightened. the village sits in a mountain, on a plateau that jiejie says was formed when a huge demon blew the peak off the mountain a thousand years ago. shen yuan doesn’t believe her, but he stays wary all the same. he knows what mountain range they're in, after all. he knows just as well as everyone else about the immortal masters up on the peaks. he isn't thinking about it. he's not a cultivator.

he is still young, his heats still dry and soft. they don’t make him work when it comes; all the brothel aunties bring him silks and blankets and help him nest, and nainai makes sure there’s always at least one auntie there to look after him. distantly, shen yuan knows that heats are supposed to be a hassle for grown omegas. he's staunchly not thinking about it—instead he sits cuddled up with jiejie or gege or one of the aunties and reads them stories. heats really aren't so bad.

nainai and all of the aunties always said if he starts to feel heat sick while he’s out running errands, he has to come back immediately. it's a little overbearing, honestly. he isn't stupid; he knows how to take care of himself. he hasn't frozen up since that time with that alpha, and he knows to run away if something happens again.

he's been a little warm the past few days, and his nose has been really sensitive—irritating, really! he curses the shitty author in his heart every time a guest with a rancid scent strolls into the brothel. but two little symptoms don't mean it's pre-heat. gege got him a journal to track his heats with, and it's not supposed to come for two more weeks. he's fine.

so he hides his fever and stifles his gags when nainai asks him to to go drop off a package at the tea shop and pick up more of some special tea. uncle ming, the tea shop owner, always gives him candy and snacks and stuff when he comes by. there’s no way a little fever is gonna make him miss out on free candy. whether he’s nine or twenty-nine (his age is another thing he isn’t thinking about. sometimes he almost forgets he was grown just two years ago. sometimes he forgets that none of this is really real. don’t think about it, don’t think about it, don’t think about it), free sweets are free sweets.

the sun is setting, so nainai tells him to be quick. the tea can’t wait until the morning—the prickly man is coming again tonight, and it’s some special blend he needs as soon as he arrives or something. shen yuan doesn’t really care; he’s just excited to go see uncle ming. so excited he runs the whole way there. it’s still light when he goes inside. uncle ming gives him snacks and sweets, pats his head and praises him for being so helpful. he catches shen yuan up on the neighborhood gossip—there are rumors about this person, that person is pregnant again.

they keep talking until after the sun goes down, and when uncle ming realizes it, he tries to convince shen yuan to stay for the night. his wife and daughter, both betas, are away, and he doesn’t want to send shen yuan to walk back in the dark alone. he’s an omega too, and he says he’d walk shen yuan there himself but his nose isn’t good and it’s dark out. with no way to tell if someone was sneaking up on him, he’d be in danger. it’s fine though. shen yuan’s nose is good, and he’s not stupid. the thought of spending a night away from his nest makes him itchy. plus, he’s already late getting the tea back for that man, and nainai said it was important.

uncle ming scents him with one of his wife’s cloaks, then wraps it around his shoulders. hopefully, he says, the scent will scare off anybody looking for an omega to bother. auntie ming’s scent is nice—not like the aunties at the brothel, but it still makes shen yuan feel secure. the cloak is a little long, but that’s fine. the walk is only ten or so minutes. he’s sure it’ll be fine.

he’s wrong.

it’s been two years, and nothing really even happened, but shen yuan still remembers that alpha’s scent. there’s no reason to remember it. nothing really even happened, just a kiss on the forehead. a hand on his thigh. eyes dark and possessive, like he wanted— but nothing happened. that alpha’s probably on his way home from running some errand, same as shen yuan. he picks up the pace.

the scent follows him, and his middle starts cramping, and when shen yuan accepts that maybe he was closer to his heat than he thought, he starts running. gets maybe three steps before his legs get tangled in auntie ming’s cloak, and before he can hit the ground, there’s a hand pulling the fabric tight against his throat.

that alpha coos at him, calls him sweet. he’s scarred now, ragged claw marks tearing from his eye down to his neck, and shen yuan remembers nainai’s bloody hands after she took the man outside. nainai isn’t here now. shen yuan should’ve stayed with uncle ming.

later, he says he only remembers flashes of what happened that night. hands on his face, his thighs, inching between his— sharp teeth dragging along his neck. he remembers that alpha’s voice, but not what he said. he remembers crying, remembers saying he’d scream if the alpha didn’t stop. he doesn’t remember screaming. he remembers a tingling under his skin, a tightness in his belly, a rush and a wave of something he’s never felt before. he remembers opening his eyes and seeing the alpha lying dead on the ground, his chest caved in and blood dripping from his eyes and his nose and his mouth.

shen yuan remembers picking up the box of tea, half spilled on the ground, and turning to run. he remembers bumping into a man with the coldest eyes he’d ever seen, but a scent that felt familiar. remembers looking up at him from the ground, saying please, please, please—but not what he was asking for. he doesn’t remember anything else.

[lieutriver]

Incorrect Lightning Thief Quotes

Bonus

[mohntilyet]

Personal headcanon about the "you picked the wrong dellamorte" line, I don't think illario actually likes rook outside the context of them being someone close to lucanis. Like rook on their own isn't much to him, but when they meet it's yet another person talking about his cousin (why isn't he good enough for whatever job they're hiring for?) and on top of that they somehow bring him back from the dead (another whole can of worms for illario). Now he starts turning on the charm, but whether he's actually interested or this is just one more thing his cousin has that he doesn't and it gets under his skin, who knows. Either way, rook ignores illario, the guy who lives off his charm, and is instead interested in the guy who's never even dated before and thinks giving someone a knife is how to flirt. Infuriating

NO THANK YOU !! i am genuinely sorry if i have ever implied illario is into rook like i see some takes about it and unless it like ties into your rook's personal backstory i don't seriously think he's romantically jealous. at all. my enjoyment of that line stems from illario's pathological need to make it about himself and not see his strengths but what lucanis has, and therefore what he doesn't. he's annoyed enough to try and goad you in the middle of a fight about the 'wrong' dellamorte and completely blind to the fact that the venatori are at best, a stupid fucking alliance, and at worst, a cult that will devour the crows from the inside out and illario would have been the one to give them the keys. he sees lucanis make allies, needs his own, and instead of charming the other talons/houses as he should, he (probably spitefully) picks the venatori. or maybe he just thought it would be easier. ugh he makes me want to telekenetically throw him around

[milkweedman]

guy who is about 6 weeks deep into a forum post on which way beaver fur should lay when making gloves with no clear good answer: wow i am glad i bought a beaver pelt this can only go perfectly with no problems

[3-aem]

i dont wanna draw gojo back again bc it feels like such a cop out for me even tho i know yall like it

that being said i really fumbled the art ball this weekend by getting distracted by every possible side quest….and i still wanna draw smth

[the-kipsabian]