#in there too

[floor-a]

I feel like Will Wood is the dark mirror version of Danny Sexbang from Ninja Sex Party.

I’d love to elaborate more, but I don’t think I can. It’s something that I just…

Know

Y’know?

[lily-frog-trash]

found old uncoloured sketches of mostly kido in outfits. idk if i posted them here yet

[sk8rambler]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY ALAN WHITE!! you are so underrated and talented and AMAZING <33

[augustjustice]

Sunday Six

Harrington flips his Ray-Bans up into his hair, the portrait of popular high school douchebag that Eddie remembers all too well from last year. But the soft-looking baby blue sweater he’s sporting, combined with the way he impatiently ushers Henderson, Wheeler, and Sinclair into the Beemer with a hand on his hip, sinks some fairly sizable cracks into the overall effect. 

When he catches Eddie’s gaze, there’s a weariness in his eyes that has Eddie fighting down an instinctual shit-eating grin, anticipating whatever nasty jibe the former king is about to throw his way. He almost feels bad. It’s gonna be a pretty bad shock for Dustin. But, better the kid sees his hero’s true colors now rather than later. 

Instead, Steve’s head dips in a tired nod, a stiff but not impolite acknowledgement. 

“Munson.”

Eddie’s mama had run off before his folks got the chance to get a divorce, but, he imagines this might have been what that would have looked like, the pair of them passing him off between them with an icy sort of cordialness every other weekend.

(That’s not fair. If it had been his parents, there would have been a helluva lot more yelling, an a helluva lot less civility than Harrington’s showing him now.)

It throws off whatever snide remark Eddie had been gearing up to toss back. He feels wrong-footed, tugging a strand of hair into his face partially to hide his wide-eyed expression.

“Uh, yeah. Hey, Harrington.”

[beardedmrbean]

It's a little late, but it's still Fat Bear Friday and more importantly,

It's King Otis

explore.org

[t1oui]

reading a few rarepair femslash fics (here's the series if yall are interested) has led to me writing my own rarepair oneshot with background every rarepair i can think of and it's very fun bc i don't really ship it but why not yk??

[squeakyclamart]

i cannot properly convey how brainrotted i am anymore because my drawing motivation has exploded . but here's These Normal Individuals in the meantime

[felixs-voice-makes-me-wanna]

dear lord baby jesus, get ready to meet me bc if this happens in atlanta march twenty-third i will die. 🫠🥴

[thesobsister]

"I Want to Be a Minstrel Man," Kid Millions (1934)

This sequence, which TW: features a glimpse of star Eddie Cantor applying the burnt cork for his blackface appearance, features a very young Harold Nicholas (his older brother Fayard joins him in a different part of the sequence) singing and dancing like a pro, as well he might've done, given that he had been performing professionally since he was 5 years old.

It's actually unusual, I think, to see him as the centerpiece of this bit, with white Goldwyn Girls dancing around him as they would for a white singing star. Maybe the fact that he was a kid made him unthreatening in a way that a Black man could never be in the audience's eyes.

Blink, and you'll miss Lucille Ball as a Goldwyn Girl in this number. But the film features a pretty good cast besides her and the Nicholas Brothers, including a great turn by Ethel Merman as a grifter posing as Cantor's mother, and Ann Sothern and George Murphy as the romantic leads.

Click above for a 45-page pressbook issued for this film. Quite remarkable in its comprehensiveness of press and promotional material available to media and exhibitors.

[lorspolairepeluche]

Word spreads in Gangos of a strange Ishgardian knight, here as a representative of both Eorzean and Eastern alliances. A certain Hrothgar gunbreaker, returned to Bozja to fight for his home, hears about this oddity and hurries to find this knight.

The knight is grey-skinned and white-haired, accompanying the hero of Eorzea and the khagan of the Azim Steppe. He has a bearing to him, proud and sharp, that the gunbreaker recognizes from a viscountess he knew long ago. “Pardon me. Are you Ser Thybaltier?”

All three of them turn to see this Hrothgar cutting a brief bow. Thybé is wary and can’t pin down exactly why, but he has a growing suspicion. “I am.”

The Hrothgar pauses before he introduces himself, eyes solely on Thybé. “My name is Amvros Ruzikasch. Do…do you know who I am?”

Thybé’s chest fills with so many emotions that it takes him a few seconds to say, “…Yes. You’re…my father.”

They get to know each other over the course of Bozja’s fight for freedom. Part of that bonding comes, of course, in the form of Amvros training Thybé (and, because they pick up quick that Thybé is unsure around his father, Oday) in the art of the gunblade. For once, Thybé becomes skillful quicker than Oday, though that’s partially because Oday isn’t there all the time. Amvros says approvingly that it’s Thybé’s Bozjan blood showing. Thybé isn’t so sure, but it’s still…nice, to have something in common with his father after so long not knowing each other.

Oday does what they can to help Thybé — they know he’s uncertain about his place in the rebellion, unsure of himself as a son of Bozja. (Said help includes wolf-whistling every time they see Thybé in new Bozjan armor. "HOTTTTT." "Oday please my father's right here." "AMVROS YOUR SON'S HOT." "ODAY PLEASE.") It helps that Amvros warms quickly to Oday — he thinks at first he’ll need to give the shovel talk, but he very quickly becomes the dad who leans over to his son and says in a not-so-quiet whisper, “I like this one. Keep ‘em.”

Thybé feels about ready to burst with pride when Amvros is named one of the Blades of Gunnhildr -- a reward for the skill and diligence his son inherited.

Their first real discord between father and son comes when Thybé finds other soldiers taking verbal potshots at Misija and comes up behind them to ask, "the hell's going on here.” When Marsak is explaining to Oday (and Ressaunt probably) about the class stratification in pre-empire Bozja, Thybé calls him on even obliquely using it as an excuse for the soldiers’ behavior. Thybé knows what it's like to be the soldier the others look down on for an accident of birth. When Misija reveals herself as a double agent, Thybé’s reaction is much along the lines of, “what did you expect when you let her fellow soldiers treat her like that without immediate reprimand and stockade time?” It’s the first big fight between Thybé and Amvros when Amvros tells him off for siding with a traitor, and the acid tongue that gets Thybé into arguments with Oday makes an appearance. Thybé throws in Amvros’s face the treatment he received in Ishgard because he was a bastard half-breed. "Because my father was, and I quote, a feral tomcat from a shithole that Garlemald conquered and then forgot about."

Oday tries to bridge the rift -- though they know Thybé better, they've been learning about Amvros and his home as they learn the gunblade from him. They can relate to both sides -- both as someone systematically mistreated for no fault of their own and as someone born into the closest thing the Steppe has to aristocracy.

Father and son haven't fully made up by the time the Resistance storms Castrum Lacus Litore -- by the time Misija reveals the true nature of Save the Queen and enslaves the minds of the Blades, including Amvros. The defeat leaves Thybé in anguish -- he understands Misija, yes, but the darkest part of his soul is screaming for hate and vengeance for stealing the father with whom he had so little time. Oday grounds him -- they rarely leave Bozja for a while after that, participating in both frontline fighting and planning for future battles. For a time, Thybé takes the place he's used to at Oday's side. It's easier for him, and both of them know it, and both of them know that he cannot remain in that place forever -- not here in his father's homeland.

The time comes when the Resistance corners Misija and the tempered Blades in the ruins -- when Misija escapes into Delubrum Reginae. When the Resistance follows them in and faces machines that speak in dead voices and wield familiar weapons. The voices are mostly indistinguishable, and Thybé tries to convince himself he hasn't known his father long enough to recognize Amvros’s voice anyway. He doesn’t quite believe it by the time they face off against a warped something that carries Amvros’s gunblade and speaks with a flat version of a voice that he does indeed recognize.

After the battle, Oday brings him back to Gangos. I say they bring him back, because after the battle is over, Thybé is in no fit state to be alone. They spend the night in Oday's tent, pitched further away from the camp than usual. As soon as the tent's closed and Oday gathers him into their arms, Thybé buries his face in their shoulder and weeps. He shakes for hours, even after his tears are gone, and Oday strokes his hair and sings softly to him, sharing in his grief as tears slip down their own face. Ressaunt joins them to sit silently and simply be there. After all, Oday and Ress have both lost fathers.

Thybé renews his resolve, and it's a long while more, but he is his father's son and his mother's, and he will see this through. And when finally Bozja is freed, when the IVth is pushed from the land, Thybé sees it with new eyes. His father's homeland. His home too now. Amvros's last bequest to his son: a free Bozja.

(A pair of small epilogues come during Endwalker and afterward: At the memorial service at the Swallow's Compass, Hien speaks of a few people who are not Doman, including: "Amvros Ruzikasch -- who strove for freedom -- never gave up on the wish to see his homeland, and every land, free of tyranny, and he never gave up on the love he bore for his son." And when Oduyanga Khagan invites representatives from allied nations to the festival in Reunion the week before the Naadam in which their successor will be acclaimed, Marsak arrives from Bozja to see his friends, and he brings the last effects of Blade Ruzikasch for his son.)

[chrissycunninghamkin]

bereal has taught me so much in the last eight months that ive used it bc i realized how loved i am and how valuable life is. i have memories from every day of my life for the past eight months and that is amazing. i don’t think ill ever delete this app

[dinklebat]

an interaction im very tired of in online autism spaces. aka when you don’t have a special interest / when your special interest isn’t [character] or [fandom]

EDIT: if you’re confused on this post look at this version: https://www.tumblr.com/dinklebat/767829405172219904/some-of-you-did-not-understand-this-post-hope?source=share

also if you want to see column posts just check #column posting on my blog

[apollos-boyfriend]

i’m gonna cry it’s raining right now and i just passed by a family where both parents were without an umbrella but their kid who couldn’t have been older than like 3-4 was proudly holding this GIANT umbrella whose diameter was as tall (if not taller) as the kid. both the parents were getting absolutely drenched but u could tell the kid was just so happy to have an “adult” task and carry the umbrella themselves and i think that sacrifice is what love is all about

[ceaselessbasher]

I swear to god one of these days were going to see a video of Amaury Guichon and he's going to be making some wings and they are going to look dope as hell, the detail of each feather will be breathtaking, he'll spray paint them to perfection, but as the video goes on, he's not building any sort of winged creature, just the wings. And then there's a human-sized harness (also made of chocolate, somehow, he can do it). And he's attaching the wings to the harness. And he's putting the harness on and he demonstrates how he can flap the wings. And then he'll be off. Out the window and up and up and up. And we'll be looking at the livestream (it's a livestream now) and we'll scream "No, Amaury, the sun! It's going to melt the wings!". But he knows this already. And he is free.

[thepromiscuousfinger]