#let him in your house

[buzzfella]

save me etho slab..........

[inkskinned]

one of the things that's the most fucking frustrating for me about arguing with climate change deniers is the sheer fucking scope of how much it matters. sweating in my father's car, thinking about how it's the "hottest summer so far," every summer. and there's this deep, roiling rage that comes over me, every time.

the stakes are wrong, is the thing. that's part of what makes it not an actual debate: the other side isn't coming to the table with anything to fucking lose.

like okay. i am obviously pro gun control. but there is a basic human part of me that can understand and empathize with someone who says, "i'm worried that would lead to the law-abiding citizens being punished while criminals now essentially have a superpower." i don't agree, but i can tell the stakes for them are also very high.

but let's say the science is wrong and i'm wrong and the visible reality is wrong and every climate disaster refugee is wrong. let's say you're right, humans aren't causing it or it's not happening or whatever else. let's just say that, for fun.

so we spend hundreds of millions of dollars making the earth cleaner, and then it turns out we didn't need to do that. oops! we cleaned the earth. our children grow up with skies full of more butterflies and bees. lawns are taken over with rich local biodiversity. we don't cry over our electric bills anymore. and, if you're staunchly capitalist and i need to speak ROI with you - we've created so many jobs in developing sectors and we have exciting new investment opportunities.

i am reminded of kodak, and how they did not make "the switch" to digital photography; how within 20 years kodak was no longer a household brand. do we, as a nation, feel comfortable watching as the world makes "the switch" while we ride the laurels of oil? this boggles me. i have heard so much propaganda about how america cannot "fall behind" other countries, but in this crucial sector - the one that could actually influence our own monopolies - suddenly we turn the other cheek. but maybe you're right! maybe it will collapse like just another silicone valley dream. but isn't that the crux of capitalism? that some economies will peter out eventually?

but let's say you're right, and i'm wrong, and we stopped fracking for no good reason. that they re-seed quarries. that we tear down unused corporate-owned buildings or at least repurpose them for communities. that we make an effort, and that effort doesn't really help. what happens then? what are the stakes. what have we lost, and what have we gained?

sometimes we take our cars through a car wash and then later, it rains. "oh," we laugh to ourselves. we gripe about it over coffee with our coworkers. what a shame! but we are also aware: the car is cleaner. is that what you are worried about? that you'll make the effort but things will resolve naturally? that it will just be "a waste"?

and what i'm right. what if we're already seeing people lose their houses and their lives. what if it is happening everywhere, not just in coastal towns or equatorial countries you don't care about. what if i'm right and you're wrong but you're yelling and rich and powerful. so we ignore all of the bellwethers and all of the indicators and all of the sirens. what if we say - well, if it happens, it's fate.

nevermind. you wouldn't even wear a mask, anyway. i know what happens when you see disaster. you think the disaster will flinch if you just shout louder. that you can toss enough lives into the storm for the storm to recognize your sacrifice and balk. you argue because it feels good to stand up against "the liberals" even when the situation should not be political. you are busy crying for jesus with a bullhorn while i am trying to usher people into a shelter. you've already locked the doors, even on the church.

the stakes are skewed. you think this is some intellectual "debate" to win, some funny banter. you fuel up your huge unmuddied truck and say suck it to every citizen of that shitbird state california. serves them right for voting blue!

and the rest of us are terrified of the entire fucking environment collapsing.

[boarloved-art]

at all times i am thinking about wei wuxians outfit changing between being picked up by the lans on dafan mountain, and being dragged back to cloud recesses. did they go clothes shopping. let us see the shopping montage mxtx. please.

edit: continuation heree

[psychicbby]

kinda obsessed with when dan jokes around and acts like he’s this huge slag bc like babygirl…you’ve been sucking and fucking the same man for the past 15 yrs bc you’re in love with him. you have intertwining careers and a forever home together. if ur man even HINTS at another dude being attractive u get visibly jealous. it’s okay, darling. no one’s judging u for being the literal champion of monogamy. you’re still edgy and cool baby it’s okay <3

[senseearly]

For a moment, imagine yourself in Mithrun's brother shoes.

Your brother - stronger, prettier, more charismatic, but also distrustful and disdainful of everyone especially you - is to be sent to the Canaries. It is the rule, it is the duty of all noble houses. But you know what goes on there, Mithrun knows what happens there. Yet you see him off, bidding a temporary farewell as you do, because someone from the House has to go and it won't be definitely you. Mithrun knows this, you know this. And you wonder, very briefly, if Mithrun hates you now more than he does already.

Your brother - powerful, agile, a good soldier just as he is as an heir, if he could only be an heir - suddenly disappears. The unit he belonged to suddenly disappeared. And you're speechless because - how? why? No one wants to answer you; they will instead try to bring back a body, they promise to you. But that is not what you want. You grieve for your brother. but your own family doesn't grieve with you. Wasn't Mithrun family too?

Then you found out: MIthrun is alive.

Your brother - now weak, despondent, his eyes always looking for something that is not here nor there - is to be sent home where people can take care of him. It is not your first choice, you want him home. But he is - sick. Not quite there. He needs someone who can look after him and you look at yourself - your gait, your constitution - and you know it can't be you. So, you follow the advice of your family and pour out all your resources to find him the best of healers and caretakers. You ask yourself, almost daily, if Mithrun would ever return to who he once was.

Your brother - strong, pretty, uninterested of anything and anyone else aside from what he calls 'the demon' - is now better. He can walk on his own now, eats without throwing up on himself. The color on his skin is back and the scars of his injuries have faded into thick bumps and discolored skin. But he still isn't quite there; still needs help and probably will for the rest of his life. And you can live with that. You can provide that. Just as long as he comes home.

But doesn't. Your brother - now a husk of his former self, and you hate thinking of him that way, but you can't help yourself, the Mithrun you knew is gone - runs straight back to the Canaries. His mission is not over, he says. He doesn't care how long it takes, he says. And you see him off, again, because someone from the House has to go and it still can't be you. Mithrun knows this, you know this, and you can't help but wish, very briefly, if things would've been different if you went instead of him.

[naamahdarling]

I didn't get pics I didn't get pics my phone was in the bedroom charging but FANCY IS PLAYING WITH THEM. Not next TO them but INITIATING PLAY WITH THEM.

Not bitchily, not reluctantly, not with a short temper, not tolerating THEIR advances, but making her OWN advances! Inviting them in!!!!!! Even the detested Junie!

CRYINGGGGGG.

[lunarharp]

..polly pocket au.. (<- a type of doll.)

[fkitwebhaal]

The first time Gortash meets the Chosen one of Bhaal, he asks for their name.

No one calls them by their name in their temple, instead sticking to “Chosen” or “Herald.” The Chosen of Bhaal looks at him like he said something funny and responds.

“Pick one.”

So Gortash does. And thus begins a pattern.

Are they going on a stealth mission and need an alter ego? Gortash pick a name.

What should Gortash’s guards call them when they visit through the front entrance? “Pick a name , Enver, it’s not like I go through the front door anyway.”

What name should he give to a comrade who could use an assassin on hire? “Think of something clever, you always do.”

It’s not that the Chosen of Bhaal doesn’t have a name, he learns. They did once. But then their father called them to his service and “a surgeon doesn’t name their knife” and well, a steady name seemed kind of pointless. Titles worked just fine and well, an assassin benefits from having quite a few alter egos. Until Gortash, they really didn’t talk to anyone enough outside the Temple for a name to even be needed.

It’s a fucked up dynamic, really. Gortash can have the illusion of control over this Bhalspawn with the names , but its control that’s given freely. They are something he wants to control but never truly can. He is something they should destroy but don’t desire to.

Much later, the Former Chosen of Bhaal walks into Gortash’s coronation. He grins, and asks them “what name should I call you this time friend?”

When they respond with an actual name, he almost can’t hide his surprise.

[impossiblekittydelusion]

Ever notice the puppy eyes that House only ever gives Wilson?

Look at him! look at those fucking pleading looks! What is wrong with him!! How can u look at your boy bestie like that MULTIPLE TIMES AN EPISODE!!

[chronologically-challenged]

I think that the party's communication issues can be summed up as "man, is it awkward to tell someone that you want to spend the rest of your life with them if you've only know them for a few months? Probably."

[cardo-de-comer]

Hey! The way you drew Mr. Qi makes me feral, thank you. I love that man in a way one would love their neighborhood cat. Mysterious, I wish to know more of where he comes from, who he is, yet it's better to be kept secret. Again, thank you for drawing him in such a nice way, loved it, will continue to love it, and once I've sent this ask, I shall continue to stare at it like the feral animal I am over that man. Thank you.

thank you anon! <3 i miss him lots lately so here's some sketches

[divineandmajesticinone]

KISS X KISS X KISS: Love ii Shower (2023) I Atelier Kiss "Aside from me, do you ask someone else to model for you?"

[propertyofjameswilson]

i know im a weirdo but this this sneaker enthusiast hardly ever wears anything other than sneakers so i made these gifs for him and his sexy tasty boots

[pinkd3mon]

Kirby deals with existential crisis and Bandana is a good friend

[fbfh]

did you know that Dean wakes up one morning and realizes he has a fucking bombshell of a wife/husband/spouse, a cozy (slightly rural) suburban house, and not one but three fucking daughters???? Did you know that he woke up one morning to toddler giggles and little kid bickering and baby babbling????? and your girls come charging in hushing their little giggles so they don't wake up mommy and daddy and so OBVIOUSLY he has to pretend to be asleep so he doesn't foil their plan. he focuses all his energy on keeping his face and body relaxed, keeping his breathing even. they're whispering and babbling and Dean peeks an eye open and looks at the love of his life and these three angels with their daddy's attitude and their mama's heart. they have your eyes and his smile. they're... the best parts of both of you, and there's something entirely new and beautiful in each of them too.

Bobby Dean is your oldest, and her 4th birthday is just around the corner. She's 3 and 3/4 right now, and won't let anyone forget it.

Your second is Jodi John, or JJ informally. She's fought her way half way through the terrible twos and is already getting a head start on the whole 3 going on 13 thing.

Mary Cass, or Cassie, is your youngest. She's just over a year old, and wants to do everything her big sisters do.

And Dean is looking at your little girls, and at you. He sees the way the morning sunlight dapples in through the window and illuminates their tangled hair and disney princess nightgowns. Your face is all puffy from sleep, and you still smell like the apple pie you made yesterday.

it's real, he realizes. that pipe dream that apple pie life.

you gave that to him. you did that. you turned his deepest, most unspoken desires into a reality like it was nothing. and every ounce of joy and love and peace he feels every moment of every day, he owes it all to you. You try to tell him on occasion when he gets all sentimental on you, he deserves it. he deserves every good thing he feels, and he's so great with the girls, he's a natural dad and you couldn't possibly dream of a better husband to do it with.

Because at his heart, Dean is a family man. He's your family man.

[sacrifical-lamb-core]

Jason who is constantly overcompensating for being a feral wolf child unless it's in battle then all bets are off.