#okay now we can ball

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

jin guangshan and lan qiren yaoi perhaps? since their shapes create a perfect balance?

Two old men perform worlds first successful 96.

[uncanny-tranny]

Whenever people who are entrenched in diet culture talk about how terrible chemicals are, I just want to whip out this:

[moth-flowers]

moth-flowers #17

[crackwhorism]

post exam clarity is hitting me like a truck I feel sick

[greenerteacups]

favorite relationship (non romantic or otherwise) in the hp canon? one thing I love about lionheart is Harry and hermione’s friendship - criminally overlooked in the books imo pidgeonholing hermione into only the “nagging mum” role for so much of it ! these two are siblings!

interesting parameters! my favorite non-romantic relationship in canon is ron and harry, actually. i think that hermione has great friendships with both of them, but the sheer intensity of the bond between ron and harry is unmatched anywhere outside romantic pairings in the books. harry latches onto him basically at first sight and imprints like a baby goose, and goes, "excellent, at last, a Friend; i will now spend all of my time and attention on you Forever." what's that? hungry you say? sad you say? i will buy you All The Food. then draco "definitely homeschooled" malfoy rocks up with his hilariously incompetent friend overtures and harry says right that's cool, but you threw shade at ron, so you can fuck right off forever. i've had this weird little ginger in my life for less than a day and if anything happens to him i'd kill myself. bye.

and ron drinks! it! up! because he's never had it! he's never been First for someone before, and he LOVES it! and he responds by becoming an instant ride-or-die for harry. that's not a reading, either, that's straight up text: in book 3, ron says, verbatim, "if you want to kill harry, you'll have to kill me." and he's thirteen!! takes him about five minutes to get there, too — in the ten weeks they've known each other before christmas break, eleven-year-old ron weasley tells his MOM about his new cool friend, and whatever he writes is so glowingly effusive that molly knits harry a goddamn family sweater (if you knit, you Know) without having stone cold met the kid! not to mention — ron (at eleven! eleven years old, ron weasley!) decides to pass up his only chance to see his parents until june, not to mention missing his family christmas, so he can stay at hogwarts and keep harry company! because harry potter will never be lonely if ron weasley can help it!!

basically. ron and harry are the original platonic soulmates. they ARE the catherine-heathcliff "he's more myself than i am" dig-up-his-grave-so-you-can-lie-in-it type of love. they are each other's destiny and each other's choice.

[s0lar-ch3ri]

(eye brow raise) this was a surprise, and im months late but i need to distract myself from everything else i wanna do (plus the jrwi adhd polls. im in pain currently)

okay so lil note btw is its kinda late, and i am ever so dead brain. oh and also im a couple minutes only into ep 106 (so no spoilers for me but enza being here is a spoiler so if you want no others gooooooo)

ALSO I BARELY HAVE A GRASP ON HOW THE BLACK SEA IS SO IM SORTA PROJECTING ON JAY WHAT ID PROBS BE FEELING

Jay was tired. This place felt too dark, too moist, too dry (how could the ocean be fucking dry?? how could it feel anything but moist??), too loud, too much, too little. Gillion was a little too happy. Gryphon was a little too annoyed. Chip was a little too...Chip. Queen was a little too worried.

"Are you sure your feeling fine Captain?" Queen inquired. "I could-"

"I'm fucking peachy," Jay snarled back. It didn't even occur to Jay how callous she had sounded until Queen had nodded and walked off. Fuck, Jay thought. One more problem to add in.

Yeah, life sucked and Jay wanted out of the dark sea hole, next Riptide adventure ple-

"Jay, your conch's been going off, quick!" Gillion called out, making Jay slightly flinch (why'd she flinch? she's heard him yell before, what the fuck is this place doing to her) as she scrambled to answer. The thing with conch phones is they only get one use. Considering how Gillion never really got calls himself (he'd mostly use it to call Caspian or Edyn before...maybe she wouldn't bring that up), it was the first time someone had contacted them first. Normally it's the other way around.

As she brought the shell to her ear, hoping she wasn't too late, she recognized the instantly. It was Ensa, Jay's inventing buddy and-

"Oh shit, Jay has her girlfriend on the phone!" Chip called out, unknowing that his jokes were truth. God Jay wanted nothing more then to punt that little fucking shit into the black sea where Arlin probably is rotting away and he's just too ignorant to accept it-what. Jay doesn't think like this. God this place was getting to her.

"What's that your murmuring Jay, speak up! Which girlfriend is it?" Chip continued to tease.

"Whoever it is, it's someone I'd have more a chance with then you have with anyone, now fuck off!" Jay stormed off for a second to breath. Unknown to her, Chip and Gill went off to talk. It was important to mention that they had found land in this area, apparently it wasn't all water (woahhhhhhhhhhhh) and there were people down here too. It was a good rest stop, at least to Jay. Then again, anything down here didn't feel good.

"Sorry for the surprise Jay-bird, everything alright? You sound rather..."

"Pissed? Yeah, no, the Black Sea definitely is unexplored for a reason. It just..." Jay sighs. "I'm changing against my will. I'm getting angry at yelling at people without realizing it, my thoughts are more violent and the slightest bit of doubt is twisted and malformed into some shit hole string of hatred."

Ensa listened intently, being silent for a second to process. "...So it sucks."

Jay couldn't help but laugh at the silly joke. Suddenly the black sea felt a bit better. Gillion didn't seem too positive. The looming dread turned to a smaller anxiety. The ick of this place faded slightly with her here, on the phone, calling her.

"Do you want me to come down there?" Another pause. This could have lasted weeks and Jay would have sat there still, contemplating.

"No."

"You were pretty hesitant...sounds like you want me there."

"I do, and that's exactly why you shouldn't come."

"But your mentioning twisting and-"

"I'm not wanting to be contortioned in a way that harms you, and I don't want this place to get you. I can manage, it feels better that your right here with me."

Jay could hear her smile. Goddesses, what Jay wouldn't give for that smile. Like when Aster's warm rays hit her skin, Jay felt her cheeks heat up.

"If you even for a moment change your mind, contact me. We'll get the teleporter running quicker then you'd want to be leaving, which is now I'd guess."

"Okay, yeah, that's great." Jay paused. "I love you so much Ensa. Thank you, for everything." Jay was slightly stunned at her own sentiment, but she didn't question where it came from. This place was the scariest shit Jay had ever seen. And she wasn't even sure how they'd leave, or even leave alive. Yet, on call with Ensa, imagining her standing next to her, holding hands and talking cool gadgets they'd want to try making, it made everything not seem like shit. The world was more then tolerable with Ensa, and maybe after all the nightmares Jay had early on in their adventures, to the real nightmare moments that have happened since, Jay deserved this girl. No, Jay knew, she needed Ensa.

"No problem Jay-bird, I love you too. When your back, I'll probably have something cool to show you. Or something you could help me make. Whatever, just, don't fucking die okay? Promise me. I know those other 2 can get carried in a current, and you can sometimes go along with it too much, so just...if they're being stupid, remember this fucking promise. If you die, I will grab your body and put your soul into a robot just so I can tell you how stupid it was that you died...not really. I miss you too much. I guess cramping myself in a work room is twisting me too, haha." Jay let her talk around. "Okay, but promise me, I'm not kidding about that. Jay-bird, promise me you'll return to the great seas of Mana alive and intact."

"I can't promise I'll ever not be stupid, I can promise that when we're out, we'll go on a special date, one with inventing and doing all sorts of shit. I'll find a way to tell my family, my sea family, about us, one that won't feel super awkward. I won't die on you, that's my oath to you as Jay Ferin and as your love."

Jay wanted the call to last forever, to never return to the Black Sea and it's horrors. She couldn't find the words now, but Jay had so much to say to Ensa. So, she did as her sister did years ago, this time with confidence she'll come back to who she's left behind. She forced herself away from the conch and as though she had to cast command on herself, her thumb rigidly moved over to the end call button.

"See you soon." Beep.

im gonna be really honest rn

navyseal is off-limits pistolwhip is off-limits all the others are off limits because ENSA

ourhghhhghghh jay needs to kiss her right now wouruhougroh

sure the others are nice and all but ensa shes so perfect for jay smh my head i dont see enough art of them

[golf-ball-bfdi-2763]

Gaaahh I saw TPOT 12 was released yesterday at 1 AM *right as I was going to sleep* 😭

I drew this silly art on my phone in like an hour lol. Golf Ball literally wasn't in TPOT 11 but she's my favorite character so I'm legally obligated to add her in every anticipation art I do. 8-Ball was, in fact, in TPOT 11 though (he and Dora had a weirdly cute friendship 🥹) and he and Golf Ball had such beef in BFB it's actually hilarious.

TPOT 12 is titled "What's Up Bell's String?" so the background circle is Bell-colored (I'm fairly sure) and wowow look it has a string at the top!!

Ok sorry, it's time for me to stop yapping and actually watch the episode haha.

[m1ckeyb3rry]

GUESS WHO FINALLY CAUGHT UP W THE BLLK MANGA 🤩

[4belphie]

i am way too serious abt belphie i see one of yall make a bad take abt him and i feel homicidal rage

[anneboonchuys]

well. at least i finally made a planning

[skitskatdacat63]

Fanart for @mwebber's NAYQ!Seb

The outfit descriptions have been stuck in my brain, so I drew them!

[monty-glasses-roxy]

For some reason, this round of meds (same dose and everything as last time) is making me have very violent Realisations and Remembering Things moments. And by that I mean the Thing I Forgot and/or the Realisations show up with a bat and see how hard they can make my brain hit the wall. So anyway.

YOU GUYS REMEMBER SPIKE THE WETFLOOR BOT??? YOU GUYS REMEMBER HER??? THE FIRST FAZBEAR ANIMATRONIC TO BE BORN FROM LOVE INSTEAD OF PAIN??? YOU REMEMBER HER???

CAUSE I JUST DID

[lordsardine]

./long ramble

[carinelian]

02272024 | notes on writing

These days, it's getting harder to separate hobbies from means of living. On most days, I can tell whether I'm doing something as a means of living, something for survival, or something as simple as a human being.

On most days, I also delude myself that it's all a matter of compartmentalization. Like choosing which clothes to wear for the day. Except the world is burning, all my clothes are worn down and made for a time long past, and even if I went out butt-naked, there's no way I'm coming out of it unscathed. That's what writing feels like for me, as of late. Or living, in general.

Maybe someday I can flesh out a timely piece on late-stage capitalism, how creative work is reduced to content, the essence of separating fiction and reality, and all the ways they influence each other without being mistaken as one and the same. We're living through an ongoing health and climate crisis, multiple genocides, and rotting from the inside out thanks to decades of exploitation and systemic ills. Global fuckening to the highest, most damning scale. I wish this is fiction. The context behind that thought terrifies me.

I wish I can save the serious writing for when it really, really counts, but as it stands, tomorrow isn't promised. Never was.

That's what spurred me on, to write this little note. I think I'll be writing more. I have my WIPs, I have my vague little scenarios in my head that will probably haunt me until they get their well-deserved 100K novel, and these occasional trains of thought that derail and create their own train tracks in my mind. There's also the shitstorm that's going on in real life, real time. There's no neat shelf for me to separate the things I care about and things I don't, because it affects us all.

To write online, without capturing all the possible nuances of whatever the fuck it is you're writing about, is an invitation to be flayed alive. For this reason, I shied away from writing about things that matter to me -- much like this one -- because shutting up means no trouble. No room for mistake. After all, what's there to criticize?

But then I realized, well, it's a sad way for a writer to live (at least for me), knowing that writing has been long ingrained in my life. It's a hobby. It's a means of living (hopefully *side-eyes publishers*), and it's a means of survival, with the way it calms me down and is an outlet for my anxieties. It's a way of life, it's not all of me, but it's a HUGE part of me.

Where was I going with this? Oh yeah. Fiction and real-world issues overlap. They bleed into what I write, regardless of whether or not I permit it, and I look for fiction -- hope for fiction -- in the face of staggering, depressing, and bleak reality. Perhaps the intersection here is where fiction is supposed to inspire you to take meaningful action in real life. And real life finds its way to fiction, one way or another, in the little bits and pieces of us writers that we leave in our stories. I'm so chronically online that I could think of a thousand ways critics can gut this paragraph like a fish and come up with the worst meanings.

But then again, maybe the people who need some comfort will find it, too. Maybe people will add into it, I learn something new, and we ALL learn something new. If you're having complicated feelings about writing, questioning what the fuck is it to you, trying to deal with that maddening shelf -- well, here I am. Write whatever the fuck you want to write. Write loudly, unapologetically, meaningfully, purposefully. May your words add a little bit of hope. And if doesn't, may it free you, may it release you, may it provide some relief. Or if you're out there to disturb, then do it. Put your horrors and your fears into paper. Trap them with ink. Slap them with periods and put a name on whatever haunts you.

Write, for fuck's sake. And this is a reminder to myself, in the most literal sense.

[dirt-str1der]

hello i just wanna say i genuinely like ur observation about nishiki's fighting style and then ya manage to bring it back to ur 'drug addict nishiki' headcanon like it caught me off guard but im also not surprised that is so fair and real of u okay thank u

In a world where drugs dont exist, nishikiyama’s strength comes solely from his anger and i guess he goes to the gym too