#so this is what I do

[redwayfarers]

still playing through my first... playthrough of the golden rose and am in new mc kitchen area, but i gotta say. the way i’ve been playing reyna reminds me an awful lot of cass if he’d had a happy childhood

and my heart’s a little broken now but so far loving the golden rose and you bet i’ll plop him in there too because there can never be enough blorbos

[blissfullyabsurd]

this is what happens when i get bored during class…

they have officially taken over 😔

[demaparbat-hp]

He's never happy

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[lgbtlunaverse]

The world exists in such a baffling state of simultaneous sex-aversion and sex-hegemony. Every social platform on the internet is trying to banish sex workers to the shadow realm but I can't post a tweet without at least two bots replying P U S S Y I N B I O. People are self-censoring sex to seggs and $3× but every other ad you see is still filled with half-naked women. Rightwingers want queer people arrested for so much as existing in the same postal code as a child and are also drumming up a moral panic about how teenage boys aren't getting laid enough. I feel like I'm losing my mind.

[just-spacetrash]

the 'what if you played it a little risky' post literally Changed my life but i cant fujkign find it in my blog because its. a tiktok screenshot

[zytes]

this manatee looks like it’s in a skyrim loading screen

[pangur-and-grim]

one thing that took me embarrassingly long to learn is "sometimes when people say things, they will not be true."

I used to tell people about this revelation and they'd be like yeah.....duh.....but like, why wouldn't my base assumption be that you're communicating to me in a straightforward manner. anyway, I get scammed a lot.

[frankierotwinkdeath]

Y’all want Taylor Swift to be gay so bad but you won’t even write femslash about her

[obsob]

i am a being capable of immeasurable love and whimsy

[redwayfarers]

one of those days

Fandom: Wayfarer IF Ship: Cassmel (Cassander x Melchior) Characters: Cassander Inteus (OC), Melchior Larkspur Words: 1084 Rating: Gen Summary: Cassander has a bad mental health day. Fortunately, he doesn't have to face it alone. Read on AO3

The day drags like nobody’s fucking business. It’s real fun having nothing to do with your time, you know - the half open book stares at me in accusation from the table, half done weave shakes its threads in disappointment. I told myself I’d finish it today, but when I woke up I found that my hands just refused to do it and would’ve rather broken the whole thing apart than finish it. The book could’ve easily met the same fate if I didn’t have enough wherewithal to just step back and declare myself useless for the day. 

But cooking needs to be done. It’s not a question of want as much as it is a question of need, after all. We all need to eat. If you don’t eat you starve. And since I don’t particularly like starving, I managed to drag myself to the kitchen and listen to the chop chop of the knife. There are downsides, though, as there usually are. Chop chop is so routine that I could do it blind, so the part of my head that’s not focused on making sure I don’t cut my own fingers off is free to wonder.

And gods do I wonder. I’ve since stopped keeping track of what about, but that’s where I am now.

Theokleia came to mind at some point, unbidden. Maybe after the brief sighting of my face in the window. Maybe after the errant curl of hair fell in my eyes and I had to move it away. She wouldn’t cook, obviously. She has people to cook for her. She has fancy makeup and hairpins and decorative battle knives on her walls. And maybe she’s laughing now, having a grand old time, drinking at a party and whispering in another rich asshole’s ear. 

Maybe Aiantes listens too. Does she keep the hairpin he gifted her decades ago, before my very eyes, when all I got was a stern look to shut the fuck up? Maybe she wears it across the hall, and maybe he smiles when he sees it shining in the magic lights. Maybe he even removes it later in the privacy of their bedroom. 

Maybe I don’t really wanna think about my parents fucking, exactly. Brain, stop being weird.

“You’re murdering that poor eggplant,” Melchior says out of nowhere. “What has it done to you?” 

I turn around and set the knife down. “My parents have sex. In general. In Vestra, too. I know the exact bedroom. Big bed, fancy ass curtains. Roses on the sheets. The mwah mwah sounds. All the good stuff.” 

“Your… parents?” Melchior blinks. “Cassander, you have three siblings. It’s highly likely that they do have sex. Assuming nothing’s taking the place of that poor vegetable.”

“Yeah, I know. It’s a really simple thing, too. And my parents are doing it.” 

“And here it’s where you lose me,” he says slowly. He has two big books of accounts in his hands and he looks so disheveled it makes me want to mess his hair up even more. “What do…” He sighs. “It’s been that kind of day, no?” 

I laugh weakly. “Yeah. My brain's all weird. One thing led to another and here I am, mentally in my parents’ bedroom. Where I wasn’t normally allowed when I was a kid, too, even in non-fucking circumstances.” I look at my feet and wiggle my toes. “I am… I just..” 

“Do you want to talk about it?” His voice is kind and gentle and it hits like cold water in a parched throat. He puts the books down and walks over, takes my hand in his and the world feels less loathsome all of a sudden. 

“I don’t want to be angry anymore.” There it is. I’m getting better at figuring these things out. What a strange idea, actually understanding what’s behind all the weirdness in my head on a given day. “Don’t think there’s much to talk about. I just– I don’t want to think about my mother. But she comes unbidden sometimes, she’s a fucking weed of a person like that, and I get all– like this. Gods, I’m so shit at saying things.” 

“I understand you perfectly well, if that has any merit,” he offers. “You’re not half as bad at saying things as you think you are.”

“You don’t count,” I say. It feels as though a weight’s been lifted off my shoulders, though. “You’re just trying to make me feel better by saying that. It doesn’t count.” 

“Is it working, though?” He smiles softly. I bury my head in his shoulder. 

“I hate you so much,” I whisper against the fabric of his shirt. He’s still holding my hand. “But seriously now. Were you.. Did you have any plans for.. This exact moment?” 

“I was just about to get myself a cup of tea,” he says and kisses the side of my head. His hair tickles my ear. “Do you want me to prevent any more vegetable murder?” 

“That’d be great. We gotta eat something and I’m the big bad vegetable murderer, as we both know.” 

“Really scary, yes,” he laughs softly. I don’t reply, but I make no movement whatsoever, soaking up the warmth and the ease of his presence. He seems content to stay like this for the time being, oblivious to the life of a whole company of actors around us, and his free hand rests loosely on my waist. “I’m proud of you, though,” he adds after a while. “You were able to identify what was distressing you and asked for help.” 

Any joke I might’ve had to those words dies on my tongue, heavy and sordid and venomous. He’s just saying things because I’m obviously not doing good for the most part, but a part of me wants to believe him. I want to be worthy of his pride but I’m not sure if I really am. “Didn’t solve shit, Mel,” I say instead, because that’s easier. Because it comes faster and more naturally. Because it shelters from this oppressive feeling that I might not be such a fuck-up after all. “I’m still as angry as I was before. Being able to say my mother’s a bitch doesn’t change shit.”

“It’s better than it was before,” he hums. “But let us cut those vegetables.” His voice turns small and private and easy. “Honestly, between the two of us, being responsible is very boring sometimes.”

And the world really does feel less loathsome for a while. 

[vaperarmand]

hey guys if you’re planning on making a vaguepost on the dashboard can you message me with the details and some of the lore behind the vague post you’re making. a vaguepost for the dash and a detailedpost for me. because i like to know what’s going on. if you do this i will automatically take your side because you’ve done the right thing by letting me know what’s up. thanks in advance ❤️

[secondbeatsongs]

somehow instead of saying "as a treat", I've started using the phrase "for morale", as if my body is a ship and its crew, and I (the captain) have to keep us in high spirits, lest we suffer a mutiny in the coming days.

and so I will eat this small block of fancy cheese, for morale. I will take a break and drink some tea, for morale. I will pick up that weird bug, for morale.

I'm not sure if it helps, but it does entertain me

[dirtytransmasc]

the men and boys are innocent too.

we cry "the innocent women and children" to appeal to the masses, to try and force their sympathy, but the men and boys are innocent too.

I have seen sons crying out for their mothers, their fathers, their siblings. I have seen them break down at the loss of their families. I have seen them cling to their dead and grieve.

I have seen fathers cradle their dead children, seen them kiss their faces and hold their little hands. I have seen them faint with grief when asked to identify the dead. I have seen them carry their sons and daughters. I have seen them fasting to provide what little they can for their families.

I have seen men and boys digging through the rubble with just their bare hands, I have seen them comforting strangers, playing with children, rocking them, hushing them, even if the face of such imminent danger. I have seen them cry, seen them grieve, seen them break down into each other's arms, seen them be selfless, beyond selfless, becoming something I don't have a word for.

I have seen the men who are doctors refuse to leave their patients, even when they have no medicine or supplies to give them, even when they're threatened with bombings. I have seen fathers who have lost all their children pick orphans up into their arms and proclaim them their child so they are not alone. I have seen men and boys digging pets out of the rubble.

the men are innocent too. the men and boys are being hurt and killed too. the men and boys are grieving too. the men and boys are scared too. the men and boys are fighting to save their people too. the men and boys deserve to be fought for too.

[mochasucculent]

The gang all together 👍

Sketch v final + refs below!

First pic was reffed from My Own Private Idaho, which ended up being a really bad idea because this focal length was ridiculous to try and flatten out and match with the others lol

Second pic was obvi The Pieta by Michelangelo, but shoutout to my partner for suggesting the role reversal cause I was initially gonna draw Viktor in Jayce's arms again, but having it the other way around gave me the idea for the last piece where they're mutually in each other's arms and on equal ground in the composition

Third pic was reffed from The Blossoming Of Love by Miquel Blay! Had to move Jayce's hand to Viktor's shoulder because he was too yolked for his arm to fit between them lmao

[batbabydamian]

happy booping! 🐾