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#its weird with other people now
jadeblazeit · 3 months
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Life has been kicking me in the fucking teeth this year. My best friend is awesome. This bitch said I'm sorry the trenches rise up and snatched you but I feel so seen rn listening to your ranting. 🤣🤣🤣
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lucabyte · 1 month
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A belief in Nominative Determinsim
#mira & isa sitting at the other side of the room: oh that cannot be a healthy rationalisation. someone should deconstruct that QUICKLY...#change's strongest soldiers VERSUS one guy echo chambering themselves about a susperstition-based retributive model of the world. GO!!!#isat spoilers#isat#isat fanart#isat siffrin#isat loop#sifloop#sloops#in stars and time#in stars and time fanart#lucabyteart#hey look now. this is softer than usual isnt it? ignore the. ignore the subtle damnation of blame unto the self. its fine. theyre fine#this is in fact a slight adaptation of that headcanon of mine i linked! yep! turns out the way to comic-ise it was to. make it like#90% speech bubble and get kinda weird with the formatting. it's clunky and experimental but hey. im experimenting.#the next ones gonna have even more fucking speech bubbles if it goes how im planning. christ#then its gonna get followed up with something wordless so. all things in perfect balance.#DISCLAIMER: i like to write loop and siffrin displaying the maybe not so great logic-holes their seeming fear of 'retribution for not#sticking to (the script) what the universe intends for them' entails. i do not agree with their weird philosophising.#i in fact think this is . bad for them. and am exploring how fucking unhealthy their mindset seems to be even when 'mundane'#OCD siffrin real as hell whats with the doing arbitrary actions in specific ways lest Something Nebulously Bad Happen little dude?#anyway if you caught the extremely blunt symbolism of kissing a hand with a knife in it you win a prize! it's called self-satisfaction 🎉🎉#hmm. do people realise i kept calling this type of back and forth between siffrin and loop a socratic dialogue bc socrates was also just#arguing with himself? like he was just making up the other guys. complete thought experiment. i also call them that because theyre WORDY!!!
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xx-sketchy-xx · 6 months
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Chain reaction
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intotheelliwoods · 6 months
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What was that about One falling asleep whenever he can and feels comfortable enough because the boy needs it? Hm? Something about him feeling safe around Poptart and not needing to keep his guard up was it? @dianagj-art *uses your own tags against you*
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yuwuta · 3 months
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itfs + reader is so real to me and it works like this: you’re megumi’s childhood best friend, somewhere along the way he meets yuuji, yuuji asks him out, and somewhere along the way—probably mid blowjob or something becuase that’s definitely when yuuji would be thinking about it—yuuji’s like “hey, so do you know you’re in love with your best friend or what?” and megumi literally chokes, and avoids him for like a week but eventually he does admit that he does know, but he also does really like yuuji and if they were normal, they’d break up, but they’re so very far from normal that it becomes a whole thing for them to get off while talking about you, for yuuji to taunt megumi about how he wishes you were here between them and tease him about naughty it is that he fantasizes about his best friend while getting sucked off by his boyfriend, and for megumi to tell him to shutup but then he babbles about all of he pent up fantasies about you anyway. yuuji likes messing with megumi’s guilt about this, and megumi hates how much he likes that yuuji is also into you, and somehow you being oblivious to this is a whole other kink they’ve got going on and have no idea how to sort out
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daisy-daze17 · 2 months
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Recently saw a post that said "People only like to ship Sunflower before the incident or after the good ending when they've had extensive therapy and that means it's toxic!!" Listen personally I don't ship Sunflower but like? Shut up?
Obviously they BOTH need a lot of therapy and healing before they can do something like start a relationship or even heal from the incident in general. You think Sunny's just gonna drop the bombshell that he killed Mari and helped hang her and immediately go back to dating Kel or Aubrey? In fact, I think all 5 of them need therapy because Kel, Aubrey and Hero now have to heal and accept the truth if they ever want to forgive Sunny and Basil.
So yeah if you say that people who acknowledge when others need therapy before getting into a relationship are toxic then you're stupid af.
And as for the pre incident shipping-- yeah, based on how Sunny views him in headspace its fair to say there might have been a crush when they were younger, but of course everyone dismisses that because Aubrey is a girl and so main character must be shipped with said girl.
If you're saying Suntan or Sunburn is perfectly healthy right after The Truth but that Sunflower is toxic and unrealistic, I think you just hate Basil. Because in that case there's no way any of Sunny or Basil's ships are good relationships considering Kel and Aubrey have been lied to for 4 years about the death of a girl they loved and cared about.
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brainrotdotorg · 3 months
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using linkedin is so weird. i just sent sam reich a connection request just because the option was there lmfao
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gayfour · 6 months
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im normal about this guy (lying)
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uncanny-tranny · 11 months
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It's just... odd to me, I suppose, going from "what is in my pants is completely irrelevant to most anybody else's life" to the expectation that you must be completely open, essentially, about what is in your pants.
I think a lot of people understand the general idea of why it's bad decorum to demand people offer explanations for private information like this, but they don't analyze exactly why it's bad besides, "asking directly is just rude" and not "asking in any way still enforces the often violent nature of gender and sex, and putting people in the 'right box' is a part of that violence."
It's especially odd when seeing other trans people enforcing the idea that "what's in your pants?" is a genuine, good-faith basis for interacting with others.
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toffeebrew · 22 days
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I'm saying this before I forget it but hearing I got people to appreciate characters more or even consider them more because of my art/posts is the highest compliment. I just didn't ever think my art would have that type of influence over anyone. Thanks <3
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ganondoodle · 1 year
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i often really do feel like an .. unwanted part of the fandom, i dont draw beautiful landscapes, i have unpopular but strong opinions im constantly annoying about and rarely change, dont like/dont draw the pretty young popular twinks and hot gurls to fanboi over nor do i turn characters into one, the opposite moreso, draw only one ship no ones heard of really, got little energy to interact with the few people that are nice to me and send me asks so it probably looks like im ignoring everyone and unfortunately but still rarely get so stressed i get overwhelmed and emotional about pehaps seemingly minor things and spiral almost into a breakdown feeling super embarrassed about it afterwards but the damage is already done and i look like a freak or agressive weirdo
#ganondoodles talks#also probably sounds like self pity#but this feeling hits everytime i see a super popular artist be the popular cool artist#i am a little weird i know that and thats not somethign bad i think#but the internet never gets to see that much of me#i tend to write posts when i am at my worst bc it has to go somewhere#so the image it tells people is that im a weirdly strong opiniod freak that gets breakdowns over nothing#i also dont feel like im otherwise -cool tm- enough to balance that out#i dont think my art is as stylized or as inventive as others nor am i cool to interact with bc idk how to be cool to interact with#i feel double bad when i misstepped with someone i used to talk to bc of something stupid ... or just dont know what i did wrong#im guessing its especially when i am in that spiraling state of mind where i really am not myself tbh#it still feels very bad bc i feel like i can never make it up to anyone again#sorry i acted like a jerk my brain was exploding in emotions in a desperate attempt to deal with something idk how to deal with-#-and made me not act like myself but now i feel really dumb about it#doesnt sound like a good excuse#... i want to thank those that do stick with me#even if i acted strange sometimes- even if i disappointed sometimes- even when i couldnt keep a promise#there are little things that still make me angry at myself#like that one time i asked in the tags whod read as long as the end of them and if someone did shoudl send me an ask so id draw a lil thing#and i got two#and i kept trying to remeber oh shit i need to do that and forgetting again/not having energy for it in a loop#i still feel like a jerk about it but now its probably too late#i wish i could answer all asks i get but man my energy for that is always rock bottom#no matter how much i enjoy the ask#and i love getting asks!!!#im sorry :((
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oifaaa · 8 months
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No clue on ur policy on cursing but if you do not like it pls delete this ask and I’m sorry I cursed but the concept was so funny.
Batfam au where Damian accidentally ends in the past (by himself or if any of his siblings join is optional) and needs to quickly stop himself before calling Bruce, Father.
So on a slip up, he accidentally calls him Fuckboy instead, and has to continually use it.
I see this going one of two ways depending on how old Bruce is - if it's teenage angsty Bruce then there will be a fight which will result in Bruce getting his ass kicked bc teenage Bruce was just constantly looking for a fight but couldn't hope to win against Damian - if its Bruce post training/ early batman Bruce then he will recognise that Damian looks a mini talia and realise this kid is his son or maybe a younger sibling of talias either way calling him a fuckboy is definitely deserved
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sonknuxadow · 8 months
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genuinely the sonic and shadow generations thing sounds so fake but everyone keeps talking about it as if its real so i have no idea how to feel about it . i mean its not that i think its impossible but this whole thing sounds like something people would say when theyre just making shit up and calling it a leak
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artthoufruity · 1 month
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“Not everyone in (insert any show/move/game with a fandom) is gay it’s unrealistic!!!” SHUT UP OH MY GODDDDDD JUST SAY YOUVE NEVER BEEN IN A FANDOM BEFORE AND MOVE ON.
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puppyeared · 12 days
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guy who only asks questions if they feel insightful enough to be worth asking and only hangs out if there is smth to do together <- deeply uncomfortable of the idea of wasting someones time
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honeylikewords · 2 years
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cubs. (jack russell)
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halloween brings all the little monsters out. aka, jack gets baby fever.
(warnings: mentions of pregnancy, planning for children, allusions to sex, descriptions of physical intimacy and making out, and jack smelling his wife, if that counts. nothing technically fully n/s/f//w//, but a bit saucy. word count 2.4k )
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Jack’s head tilts sideways before the doorbell even rings, one ear higher than the other to catch something she can’t hear. He turns in his seat on the couch, arm strewn over her shoulder, to look behind them in the direction of the front door, tilts over, kisses her temple, and pops up in the seconds before the slightly-jarring “ding” echoes through the house. He’s already at the door, bowl in hand, beaming down at the gaggle of children and chaperones by the time she’s even stirring on the couch to come to join him.
“Oh, who do we have here?,” Jack coos excitedly, scanning the miniature crowd. “Are you the little one from--”
“Stranger Things!,” yells a small child in a pink dress, blonde wig askew, tendrils of the plastic hair stuck to their face. “I’m Eleven!”
“Yes, sí, can you do the--” --Jack sticks his hand out and makes a face, and the child eagerly matches him, giving him their best furious expression and most powerful psychokinetic pose-- “Yes! That’s so good!”
He quickly glances up at the three adults standing behind and asks if there are any allergies in the group (and there are none, thank goodness) as his wife comes to stand next to him, smiling at the Eleven who is now turning their powers onto their group of friends. Gesturing for the kids to bring their bags closer, Jack begins dropping generous fistfuls of candy into eagerly opened pillowcases and treat sacks, small hands darting out to show off the newest snacks to one another.
“Hey there, Mirabel,” says Mrs. Russell, waving at a young girl in a blue skirt and white t-shirt, sporting a giant pair of glasses and a pink flower in her dense curls. The little one is wrapped up in a purple puffer jacket on this cold October evening, and while it is a truth universally acknowledged that a big coat is the bane of Halloween costumes, the effect of her adorable smile and ‘Encanto’ printed trick-or-treat bag is more than enough to convey the essence of the character. “Is Uncle Bruno with you tonight?” 
The girl shyly shakes her head and wrings the handles of her bag in her fingers but is smiling widely when Jack speaks a few quick words of admiration for her costume in Spanish and passes her a scoop of candy for her bag.
“I’m Ariel!”, adds a small child in a green tube skirt with flared tulle flippers sewn on, a purple strip of cloth tied around their tummy over a slightly off-skin-tone longsleeve tee.
“And I’m Harry Potter!” A wand is brandished at Jack, who puts a hand over his chest in shock.
“I’m Batman!” The petite hero jumps into a pose to show off the padding of his armor, his light-up shoes kicking to life and casting green flashes over the porch.
Jack turns to his wife and grins, gesturing enthusiastically at the crowd of kids. “I think these are the best costumes we’ve seen all night, no?” She nods, and the kids all let out little shrieks and giggles as Jack procures a few extra pieces from the bowl and adds them to their bags. 
The chaperones guide the straggling children into a chorus of “thank you”s before shuffling them down from the porch, past the jack o’lanterns, and on to the next house, as Jack and his wife remain in the doorway. She leans her head on his shoulder and listens to him sigh sweetly, his eyes tracing over the sunset-lit streets swarming with seas of children and their families, all screaming and laughing over one another, racing past on the sidewalks, weaving in and out of lawns decorated with tombstones and inflatable specters, plastic skeletons and felted spiders. 
“You know, at the rate you hand it out, we’ll be out of candy before the street lights come on,” she teases, nudging his shoulder. Jack chuckles and puts a hand on the small of her back, shrugging as he steers her back towards the couch. 
“It’s Halloween, bebé; do you want us to be known as the stingy old couple, or the cool couple that gives out extra candy to the little monsters? Besides, that Mirabel, oh my God--”
“Total heart-melter,” she agrees, sitting and cuddling into Jack’s side as he hooks his arm back over her shoulders and pulls her body close. “I think between her and that four-month-old dressed as Grogu, we may have seen the two cutest costumes in all of North America today.”
Jack lets out a groan at the memory of the adorable baby, who he had greeted at the door with a delighted peal of laughter, and squeezes his wife tightly in his arms, as if hugging her in the baby’s stead. The abrupt squish pushes a small squeak out of her, and Jack giggles, bumping the blunt tip of his long nose into her cheek.
“Sorry,” he murmurs. “You okay?”
His slight frame conceals a rather intense strength, something that comforts her, even if it still sneaks up on her every now and again that he is, in fact, as strong as he is; Jack’s touch is grounding and warm when so few things in the world are, and she’s glad, especially in the cold months, for the over-active heat of his body and the power of his embrace. 
He traces the tips of his broad, tan fingers along the curve of her upper arm, pale nails leaving wake trails of gooseflesh and pleasant shivers. She realizes he’s waiting for a response before going any further with his affections, and she nods, cupping the square of his chin and running her thumb along his bottom lip. When his olive green eyes fix on hers, and his lips part to reveal the brightness of his smile, crooked to the left by the jut of his snaggletooth, she feels heat wash over her face and down her body, familiar and fluttering as he dips his face close and keeps her gaze.
“You know what I’m thinking?,” Jack purrs, voice dropping low and soft as he begins inching nearer. When he’s this close, his breath falls on her skin like a warm fog, sticking sweetly to her neck and cheeks, and the scent of him gets stronger. 
He smells like their bed, she thinks. Cozy, fuzzy, and tinged with a modicum of not-at-all-unappealing sweat, there is also that distinct canine note that can only be detected in this kind of proximity. His arms are still wrapped around her, and one of his hands is coasting, flat-palmed, up and down the length of her side, following the curves of her ribs and belly, while the other finds itself resting on her shoulder, idly fingering an errant lock of hair. His face is so close to hers that she swears she could count each of his eyelashes, individually, and the hairs that form his growing stubble.
This Halloween, Jack has chosen to go as a vampire, which he thinks is exceedingly funny. Dark makeup rings his eyes and the grey in his hair glows almost blue in the low light of the fading day, lending him an unearthly quality that fits his costume well. The powers of the vampire, too, seem to be his: he has her under his thrall, certainly. His smile is mesmeric, and she can imagine that if a vampire were to look like him, there would be no end to the line of people willing to be bitten by that self-same smile.
“What are you thinking, Puppy?,” she asks, trying to redirect her own wandering thoughts. She scratches lightly at the underside of his chin and, on reflex, his head tilts up, eyes fluttering shut as a contented noise rumbles in the back of his throat. He’s so easy to please.
“I’m, uh--” He seems distracted by the sensation of her scratching at that Just Right spot between the back of his ear and the crook of his jaw, a distraction that only worsens when she begins scratching the hair at the nape of his neck. “I was going to say that I… I was thinking we…”
His hands lie still on her, twitching every now and then when she finds a particularly pleasing spot to scratch, and she relishes the sensation of being the one who now has her beloved under her own thrall; Jack leans his head into her touch and follows the motion of her hands, chasing her attentions. A sigh leaves his lips and he unclenches his shoulders, melting into her as she leans back against the armrest of the couch and Jack follows, laying his head on her chest. 
His weight is surprisingly heavy atop her as he lays himself on her belly, slotting between her knees and positioning himself for ease of scritching. He’s not a big man, by any means, but there’s a density to him, and she’s feeling it now as he presses her into the couch with his body.
She pauses her petting briefly as she adjusts to the new position, and her hands still in his hair, which causes a growl of displeasure to part his lips. At that, she looks down at him and sees one green eye peering up at her (the other still shut and squished into her chest), and sticks her tongue out at him before continuing the strokes to his salt-and-pepper pelt.
It’s rather soothing, playing with his hair like this. There’s a therapeutic element to the combination of his body weight, intense warmth, rhythmic breathing, and the texture of his hair under her fingers, and she lets instinct carry her, as salient thought drifts away into the blissful mist of repetitive motion and familiar feelings. She traces the lines of his scalp, watching his black and grey and still, sometimes, brown hair forest up around her fingers, content to just match the tide of his breaths with her own, their ribs pressed together and expanding in synchronicity. 
After a moment, Jack stirs. Turning, he cranes his face so that he can look at her squarely, and she feels the irresistible magnetism of that green gaze tugging her deeper into his spell.
“I want to try for one of our own,” he says, shattering the stillness like a foul ball through plate glass. “Tonight, if you’re ready.”
It takes her a second to blink away the haze that had settled around her head, and when she does at last manage to, she finds herself staring down into Jack’s face, taking him in with utmost fascination. If she heard him clearly, and she believes she did, he asked her--
“A baby, by the way. In case I wasn’t clear.” He flashes her a smile and a breathy laugh, and he pats her side playfully. “I’m sure you could figure that out, amorcita, but I like to be direct.”
“Oh.” 
It’s all she can think to say: not because she is unhappy, or undesiring of the same things, but simply because the effect of Jack Russell, staring up at her with his big, moss-colored puppy eyes, brazenly stating that he wants to try and conceive with her, is flooring. He pushes up on his forearms, and suddenly he is above her, his face lit starkly by the shadows of the setting sun and the television, marking him out in black and white. His eyes glow, even in the darkness.
The wolf’s smile slips into his features as he stares down at her, watching her reactions with delight. He can hear her heartbeat, she knows, smells the minute shifts that not even she is aware of. He knows her, inside and out, and surely knows which way she is swayed, but he waits patiently for her to give him a sign, a command, an enthusiastic yes or a firm no. He won’t move without her urging.
She cups his face and lets out a shaky, excited breath, one that shivers in her sternum and makes Jack grin. There’s that crooked canine of his, sharply glinting in his smile, and she trembles joyfully at the sight, wondering if their child would have their father’s snaggletooth. She hopes they do.
“Tonight,” she repeats. Jack’s eyes widen.
Gently, she tugs him down and presses his pouty lips to hers, and the dam breaks. Jack lets out an inhuman groan of delight, dropping his center of gravity low to lean into the kiss, and uses his blunt incisors to pull at her bottom lip, nipping and sending the wet, lapping sounds of kissing echoing through the room. He uses one hand to hold her jaw in place, then begins trailing kisses down and around her chin, working his way to her throat.
“Look so pretty in your costume,” he rasps, voice low and clouded. “‘S hard for a man to keep his hands to himself.”
Before she can snidely remark that he, in fact, has not been keeping his hands to himself for almost the entirety of the evening, Jack sinks his teeth into her neck: not hard enough to wound her, but certainly hard enough to make her forget every other thought, her mind now focused completely on the reality that her husband is leaving marks all across her throat.
“You smell,” Jack groans, “So good. And, oh, God, when you have our cubs…”
He pushes his face into the crook of her neck and inhales, a series of Spanish and English curses flowing from his lips as they wander across her skin, and his hands begin rucking up the bottom of her blouse when--
“DING.”
Jack’s head whips up, and the two of them stare with wide eyes at one another. His face is flushed a deep umber and his lips are shiny, hair a fluffed mess, and she can only imagine she looks even more sordid and knocked askew. They exchange a communicative glance before the doorbell rings a second time and Jack, ever the gentleman, kisses her forehead, rapidly apologizing.
“We’ll get back to this, querida, I promise, I swear, I want to--”
She waves him off with a smile, and sees him bolt for the door, candy bowl in hand. He throws it open with gusto, and as she watches, she sees the transformation come over him; the brightness in his eyes, the giddiness of his smile, the sincerity of his sweetness. He’s going to make a magnificent father. And she’s going to have a very, very happy Halloween.
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