#it's felt like a century for me

[scoliosisgoblin]

Do you also have a tumblr addiction like me? 🥹

YES DUDE IT'S ACTUALLY SO BAD BAHAHHAA

I mean, I've been on tumblr every day for the past year, it's just now that I've been posting almost every day

I can already feel the burn out starting but the grind never stops

[namedvesta]

— Edvard Munch, The Kiss (𝟣𝟪𝟫𝟩).

[die-rosastrasse]

Carl Schlüter, Fraulein Bierling (1883)

Displayed at Albertinum, Dresden

Picture credits belong to this blog

[genericpuff]

Now that I think about it, since Persephone was the Barley Mother mascot, shouldn't she have some money? Wouldn't she have gotten royalties from her likeness being used?

so at best this is sort of explained away in S1 when Persephone has her interview with Hades and he asks this exact question, why does she need a job if she's an heiress? And her response is basically that she doesn't want to be reliant on her mother's money, that she and her mother both want her to pursue her own path in life... and also she's an immortal from the Mortal Realm so being an heiress makes no sense because Demeter will logically never have to pass down the role in death which is usually how it works.

And honestly, that on its own would have been fine and makes perfect sense for the context of the comic at the time, but then that context changed, and now we have:

1.) Rachel later making Demeter out to be a villain for being a "helicopter parent" and "controlling her daughter", when in reality she was literally supportive of Persephone wanting to go to school from the get-go, she just wasn't certain her daughter should outright move to Olympus, she wanted her to commute, that was it (and was she really wrong to worry about her daughter's safety in Olympus when within her literal first day of living there she was intoxicated by Eros and dumped in Hades' car with the intention of embarrassing her, and then literally the next night was assaulted by Apollo?? Like I don't think Demeter would be all "I told you so" but maybe... maybe there was a reason she was worried and wanted her daughter to commute 💀😭) and;

2.) Persephone going from trying to be independent so she's not reliant on her mother's money... to being completely co-dependent on Hades and his money. How feminist lmao

That said, yes, technically Persephone does have money, and I'd like to think that if she did get royalties, it would be in an account for her and wouldn't just be taken by her mom (though apparently neither of them use banks so ??? where is Demeter keeping all this money LOL) and at the VERY least she's due to inherit what's presumably a massive fortune and company for herself if her mother ever steps down. So the comic does play a very frustrating tug-of-war between Persephone being the "comes from nothing" valley girl who marries into wealth... and a trust fund baby who was always wealthy and became wealthier after marrying into more wealth.

[anonymouscheeses]

I'm gonna be shitting and screaming and starting fights if Sera becomes a villain. I can't take sibling angst, Sera loves Emily I swear guys believe meeee.

[wonder-worker]

Wild how we know that Elizabeth Woodville was officially appointed to royal councils in her own right during her husband’s reign and fortified the Tower of London in preparation of a siege while 8-months pregnant and had forces gathering at Westminster “in the queen’s name” in 1483 – only for NONE of these things to be even included, let alone explored, in the vast majority of scholarship and historical novels involving her.

[imerian]

Aaaaand i decided to post more of my f1 crafts here so here landoscar edition (⁠｡⁠•̀⁠ᴗ⁠-⁠)⁠✧

Onse again photo without doodles under cut and some rambling in tags

[tokiwarcube]

Sleep has never come easy for Skwisgaar — always kept awake for one reason or another, it’s become almost second nature to put on a pot of coffee and power through the fatigue. But that’s not to say that it doesn’t creep up on him — and in the early hours of the morning, sat together with just inches of space between you, you see it.

His weighted limbs, his lowered guard… the low light bounces off his features, golden locks dyed with tempered fluorescence, giving him an almost radiant glow. Ethereal, even. But the bags beneath his eyes tell a different story — the tour might be over, but there’s still something keeping him up. He gazes out the plane window absently, eyes glazed over, expression hard to read.

You cast a sluggish look over towards the rest of your friends, all in various states of disarray, but asleep all the same. Toki sits half curled in his seat, deadybear clutched to his chest; Pickles with his head rested against his hand, leg occasionally kicking out in reflex; Murderface sits similarly, curled into himself just a fraction more, loose curls falling free after the weight of the day; and finally, Nathan leans back in his seat, arms crossed with hair framing his face like a curtain — although with how quietly he slumbers, you imagine the dreamworld’s grip on him is light. You suspect Skwisgaar has clocked that same fact, and so, you hold your tongue. You’ve long since learned that he’s not a fan of talking about his worries at the best of times, nevermind when he could potentially be overheard.

You blink wearily, filing the thought away for later and glance back over at the blond. His warmth seeps into you from the microcosm of distance that separates you, and maybe its your own sleepless delirium taking over, but you can’t help but close that gap to lean into him just a tad.

Thigh meets thigh, and shoulder meets shoulder. The last bit of tension fizzles out of your body as you begin to fade in and out of consciousness — fuzzy. Soft. Lulled to rest by the soothing motions of flight, and the warmth that you share with the man next to you. Murmured sounds float in and out of your heard — the words disappearing from your mind just as quick as they came, and yet, still undeniably tender in the ghost they leave in your psyche. Dreams come as brief wisps of memory — shining lights and harmonious chords. Cheering fans and windswept hair. Sunlight through curtained windows, shared breaths, and curious hands.

You blink into consciousness just long enough to acknowledge the arm wrapped around your shoulder, long digits rubbing soothing, ever-slowing circles into the exposed skin. In your fog, you struggle to recall who it is — foreign in one sense, and yet strikingly familiar — and so despite the beckoning call of sleep, you fight to stay awake for just a moment more. The soothing hum of the plane dulls in comparison to the steady breaths and slow heartbeat that echoes beneath your head, and its only when the comforting hand drops to your side, blond strands cascading down your own form, that you connect action to owner. He rests his head against the top of your own, finally, finally, asleep. You close your eyes once more, committing the feeling to memory, before falling back into dreams.

It's a long flight, after all.

[rain-on-wax-feathers]

some nonhuman au designs of the gay trio,,,,,

[acisjournal]

emotionally im still here

how to say i love you without saying i love you, a guide by shin

how to say i love you without saying i love you, a guide by mina

[skitskatdacat63]

As aforementioned, please take my Leyendecker type Nando bcs that recent Boss pic has brainrotted me

+ ref:

[rowlfthedog]

Asked which Muppets I should redraw photos of ! First suggestion was Rowlf, from @sevenheven7011 :o)

[buttonhouseparty]

Captain comedy connections

I’ve always said that the way I feel about the Captain, and the reason he was my instant favourite, is this: it’s like walking into a party and seeing someone you know. The ‘blustering but ineffectual authority figure’ is a really recognisable comedy staple. Just him being there positions Ghosts in a long line of classic British sitcoms. And then they flipped that archetype by giving him a relatable inner conflict and all his funny little idiosyncrasies, all those hints at the real person buried beneath the persona ♡ Anyway, none of these characters are identical to Captain, but I think he certainly shares some of their DNA and I just felt like gathering them together

[gen-is-gone]

I mean I don't wanna just be like 'finally, episode I actually liked' about the moffat episode but. like.

finally, an episode I actually liked!

No seriously, holy shit my man pulled exactly zero punches that was fucking excellent

[lettersiarrange]

Has time always moved this fast? I'm genuinely asking. In 200 years we went from Bridgerton to AI. The everyday lives of people in each of these eras feel like universes apart. I'm no historian, but it seems like the everyday lives of people between 1500 and 1700 weren't that different.

Have humans throughout time immemorial reflected on life 30 years ago, 100 years ago and commented on how vastly different it was? It feels like we're running at a breakneck pace in the modern era. The It Gets Better project was founded in 2010 because gay people were so universally ostracized that lgbt teen suicide rates were off the charts. And while we're still pretty far from full LGBT equality, openly having a problem with gay people existing is a pretty fringe opinion now that's fairly universally frowned upon, even in the southern US.

I'm pretty sure the first time a woman wore pants in congress was in the 90s.

Culturally, technologically, resource-wise, it feels like every 5 years we leap 5 decades forward. Is it just our own preoccupation with the era we live in that makes this moment feel so significant? Or are we actually moving as quickly as it feels?

I know people have always laughed at the grandpa's who complain "when I was your age...", but has the gap ever been this wide? Or is there truly something special about now.

[amethystamaranth]

say what you will about riptide being an overplayed song best known for wannabe ukulele girls--the lyrics in the chorus, I love you when you're singing that song / And I got a lump in my throat /'Cause you're gonna sing the words wrong are the most lovely encapsulation of the way you feel when you utterly adore a person and they're doing a little affectionately annoying endearing habit of theirs that you argue about all the time so much that it's not an argument it's another way to say I love you and the way that emotion just rises and you can't join in you can't sing the right words you just have to listen and let the wave of love wash over you and hope it leaves you alive after because you're drowning and drowning and it's so sudden...almost like a....