#my brain can’t much more

[coffeethoughtsandanxiety]

This information is gonna mess me up for weeks

[ri-afan]

Danny, calmly, not facing the person he is speaking to. “As I’ve told you before, ghosts are beings made of emotion: when we feel things, we feel them 100%. While we can work on regulation and control, it influences even our speech on a metaphysical level, sometimes to the point of projection. Hence the need for control.”

Person: …

Danny, turning. “So when I say: ‘fuck you, get lost you bastard’,” Danny says, pushing his anger, hurt, and frustration into the words deliberately to where the other person is hit with it like a physical blow, “you know how much I mean it, with everything I am.”

[wineanddineloseyourmind]

the transgender urge to curl up like a small fluffy animal against someone you love’s warm body and make little mewling and sighing and whining sounds as they pet you and praise you for having tried so hard to be human until you fall asleep

[timethehobo]

I can’t help it, he’s just lovely. 😔

[keferon]

Did you think I was done? Ahahahaha no, I have more.

Because chapter 70 of MOMU gave me the very dynamic between them that I missed so much, I just blacked out and started drawing uncontrollably lmao

Also. ALSO. I noticed a while ago that Prowl has the habit of..like…constantly frowning. So. I did a bit of research and made this graph.

In 70 chapters, Prowl frowns rougly 104 times. And the intensity of this gesture is very clearly correlated with the development of his relationship with Jazz, as you can see ahahahahah It might be wrong tho don’t take me seriously I’m not good with graphs

[zooterscooter]

what are you like under that mask, i wonder

(id + in art text in alt- it looks a bit hard to read on mobile my bad)

[madbard]

Thinking about how the narrative of The Magnus Archives can be traced in the pattern of Jon’s scars, the way the apocalypse was triggered by the marks that had been carved into his skin, a legacy of violence and trauma.

Thinking about how Gerry was torn from death and kept as a tool long after his heart stopped beating.

Thinking about how Daisy tried to cut ties with the Hunt, only to experience withdrawal and starve half to death.

Thinking about how Melanie was forced to mutilate herself to escape the Eye’s ownership.

Thinking about TMA as a story about ancient and omnipresent concepts; embodiments of fears and uncertainties that both directly and indirectly enact violence against and exert ownership over (primarily queer) bodies.

Thinking about how, despite all of this, there are moments of joy. The characters laugh and talk and smile and fall in love. And if some die alone, even more die together.

Thinking about how, against all odds, against incomprehensible forces of violence and terror, against the end of the world, some of these characters do the unthinkable.

They survive.

[theswedishpajas]

Based on my favorite gif lately

[kitamars]

listen. hijikata has TWO HANDS

[unfortunatelyilikebnha]

Thinking about the KaeyaJeanDiluc friendship where they grew up together and they were CLOSE & sure maybe Jean felt like Diluc & Kaeya were closer since they were brothers & sure maybe Kaeya felt like he had to keep secrets from the two of them bc they would never understand but they were like. A trio! A team!

& then Diluc’s 18th birthday comes around and everything goes to shit and Diluc LEAVES so they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc but just Kaeya & Jean & in some ways Kaeya and Jean get closer because of it but there’s also a pronounced DISTANCE where Jean doesn’t know how to reach Kaeya anymore & Kaeya is even more determined not to tell Jean anything & they both lose themselves in their duties to Mondstadt while also missing Diluc and ALSO, despite everything, offering each other unconditional support

& then Diluc comes BACK & in addition to Kaeya & Jean there’s the shaky reestablishment of Jean & Diluc and Diluc & Kaeya but it’s not THE SAME. they’re no longer KaeyaJeanDiluc; Jean & Kaeya are knights and Diluc will never be a knight again & they all changed while Diluc was away & none of them know how to talk to each other anymore AND YET there’s still an undercurrent of trust!! Not fully, especially between Kaeya & Diluc, but Diluc still calls on Jean during the archon quest, trusting that she will keep their secrets even though as the acting grandmaster she should probably not. Jean says in her about Diluc voiceline that she understands why Diluc hates the knights & is working hard to make them an organization he can trust again. Kaeya covers for Diluc’s darknight hero escapades & fondly reminisces about their childhood in front of him. Diluc invited Kaeya to dinner at the winery & (afaik) never told anyone about Kaeya’s origins. Kaeya tells the traveler that they need to give Jean their full support and planned a birthday party for her. Jean left Kaeya in charge of Mondstadt when she went to the golden apple archipelago! On some level they recognize that their goals still align!! There’s still trust and love there but there’s also this gap between them that none of them know how to cross and I just!!!

[celpii]

Alas, poor Clip!

GitM by @venomous-qwille

[verdantglow]

& now, here’s a reenactment of the Boat Boys fandom every time Joel & Etho interact & continue to be completely unhinged about each other.

[itzscribz]

Happy birthday Mitch !!!

A wonderful day for the bestest raccoon boy !

I wanted to try and redraw one of the first ever pieces of fanart I made for Mage, and I’m so happy with how it came out !

[sunshinechay]

The more I lurk around Only Friends…the more convinced I get that TopMew are a gay version of that het couple everyone knows that complain about each other constantly but never break up.

Their friends: why are you even together?

TopMew: I love him

Friends: but bro do you even like him? Like as a person?

[i-really-like-phrogs]

When someone else’s art is so good you physically can’t look at it because of artistic jealousy

[mengyan]

i had been made into an archer, the shadows suiting me best; you were a sun-bright girl forced into immortality, eternal servitude to chosen sacrifice for the people.

i think the first thing you taught me was absurdity. no one that knew me ever dared— through these years i’d become as much of a man as the rest, and it was rare for someone to think of wanting me. not that you did— did you? did you want me, wen xiao, or did you not think so much and just trusted that i would catch you?

sleep was always restless when it came. the heartbreak in a-heng’s new-blue eyes always marked the end of my dreams, because i was too afraid back then to turn around and see the rest of him. one month was enough to grow sick of my chambers, and i retired only when i could no longer keep my eyes open.

but then: a forest, a sea. fog cleared and the ink of you kissed my palm, calling me awake.

xiao, for daybreak, but if i allowed my tongue to loosen just the slightest— xiao, for you.

was it then that i became unable to see much else? was it then when i started seeking you first in every room, your voice in every pitch, your hands, arms, fingers touching mine— and me racing to reach you before you changed your mind? was it then that my heart wavered, and i thought, perhaps, that the dark wasn’t so lonely after all?

i never intended to keep you. i knew your eyes strayed elsewhere— i always noticed you first, but so did he, and him, and everyone that has ever met you. the fate of a goddess, maybe, to be beloved by all, to spill her love as floods to the people— but i knew you had long found your home in the soul of one. bloodbound by contract, kindred through heart and mind— how often i’d find myself rushing to stand before you only for him to already be there. 

the place by your side was never meant to be filled by me. but wen xiao, i’m no less absurd than you taught me to be. i would pray to a false god if it would make you safer; i would shoot even at the heavens if they tried to take you. flesh and blood is all i can offer you— is it too much to let me shield you with it?

later the worst of winter stole away your beloved, your closest friend, but kept me. still alive, rosy-cheeked and frostbitten on my knees in front of you, but the snow might as well have buried me too. live with me, die with them— and you picked up the dagger.

what does that mean, wen xiao? what am i supposed to do about what that means? you pulled me from the abyss, but am i not worthy enough to do the same for you?

the cold began to cling to me. one by one we lost the best and bravest of us, and i could do nothing to stop it. i thought myself useless, a drag, but you took my hand and said, so earnest, so warm, so thawing— i need you. you wouldn’t lie to me, but how badly i wish it were the truth.

it had been at least four fortnights since i’d ceased being afraid, since the fears in my heart stopped festering. they never disappeared, but i could stare at them head-on now, knowing that what a mortal lacks is only the difference of a body. you said that you thought of me as irreplaceable, and so i believed that’s what i was.

a fool’s tenacity is, perhaps, the strongest of all.

i woke to everyone but three gone, your tears pouring from the skies. he left to him white streaks in his hair, horseback roaming, world seeking; he left to you an age-old vow on paper, in jade, an impermanent parting, a once-more isolation.

and you left to me not even a farewell.

how is it that the demon hunting bureau is fuller than ever yet so grave with silence? how is that what i guard is no longer home to anyone that used to live in it?

i must be going mad, sometimes, to hear bells that no longer ring, bickering that never ends, idioms i’ll never be able to correct; to smell food i’ll never taste again, wine i’ll never get to drink, sulfur from cases unsolved; to see golden eyes, the rustle of notebook pages, the swoop of a brush— and feel the lilt of you, so willing for me to stay.

and so, absurdly, ridiculously, stupidly— i’m still here, wen xiao, and this is how i’ll remain. come and see me just once, and ask me what i asked you. three hundred years in a sundial: was it hard? the rest of my life with only your memory to keep me company— i’ll answer you the same.

don’t you want to know what my big-as-him secret is? i’ll give you a hint: if you see him in the rain, i see you in stone. just as pillars hold up these roofs, this city— the cliff i hung from was too-steep, yet you held me by the soles of my feet, dug yourself into my palms, and said look up, pei-jiejie. dawn has come.

the morning will always return after night. but wen xiao, when will you?