#thank you for expanding on this

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

(Accidentally mis-clicked enter on my last ask. Here's the full "ask")

What he says...

VS What I read...

("us" as in him and WWX, not the spider just to be clear)

They should make an adaptation called 'The Unfiltered', where Lan Wangji says exactly what's on his mind.

[liverpepper]

a (little) liverpepper sora comic, for rainy-sunshine days ☔️💛

[milk-lover]

Sobbing uncontrollably reading through a dissertation about the college experience of students with ADHD. It is like reading a report about my life that just says over and over "My experiences are real. My hardships are real. I am not lazy, I am not dumb. My struggles were not my fault, and they were not a moral failing. The failure was with the system, not with me."

Here's a line that got me in particular:

"Hotez et al.(2022) compared the health, academic, and non-academic capacities of a nationally representative sample of U.S. first-year college students with ADHD and without ADHD. Students with ADHD self-reported lower academic aspirations and more feelings of depression and overwhelm, ranking themselves lower in their general emotional health. The fact that students with ADHD scored in the highest 10th percentile for many non-academic traits, such as artistic ability, computer skills, creativity, public speaking, social confidence, self-understanding and understanding of others, compassion, and risk-tasking, suggests that this population has strengths that are frequently underappreciated in academia."

(the paper is a thesis called "Understanding the Collegiate Experience for Students With ADHD" by Gia Long, 2022)

[that-satireguy]

I hear a lot of shit about how radicalising the transandrophobia community is but honestly I think its the total opposite.

Talking about transandrophobia has helped me understand a lot more about trans and intersex issues, unlearning and relearning things which I always thought were granted. It was a shock going from a place where I'm one of the most educated/progressive people on trans issues in my area, to an internet space where I literally know jackshit.

-I unlearnt the idea that male/female dichotomy is real. (Its not, and plenty of intersex activists have explained why.)

-I also learnt that trans people often are the biological sex they chose, because sex is not inherent to someone from birth rather a combination of traits.

-I learnt about the difference in how trans people are treated across countries, the consequences of hypervisibility and invisibility

-I reframed my entire understanding of the patriarchy to account for trans people

And like not to be dismissive or rude, but if a kid from a rural village in Tajikistan can reshape their entire world outlook from tumblr discussions, I don't think it should be that hard for some of yall.

[ash-and-starlight]

celebrating Her month by updating my mai&sokka bestieism manifesto & introducing their matching undercuts era

[c-rowlesdraws]

I haven’t posted a selfie here in a while! Here’s a picture of me from anywhere in the last several months

[puppetmaster13u]

Still Thinkin of Yokai Amity

Y'know, where all of Amity have pretty much become yokai creatures. I might be weak for Japanese mythology and cryptids. Or really all mythology and cryptids, but Japan has a lot and it's near never-ending meaning it's fun to continue discovering and learning stuff. But anyway!

Amity Park, practically empty of humans now. Not even following the usual rule that things do thanks to how malleable ecto is. Along with how a form usually depends on ones own thoughts, feelings, and Core.

But anyway, Amity? Kind of having some trouble now that, again, no one there counts as human. Visibly so. Which, yeah the GIW is sort of incompetent, but it's also kind of... not?

Let them reiterate, individually or even in pairs, they can easily deal with the Guys in White. Heck, even a small battalion is easy enough- but they have... a lot of people. And the backing of the government. So.

Plan B? Escape. Where to?

Well, see, they've all had to interact more with the Realms, not to mention that well, the entire town was pulled into it at one point. Which was how everyone got that last bit of ecto to push the transformations from contaminated to Liminal.

Which means? Time to escape through the Realms to somewhere, maybe even somewhen else. But they also can't stay in the Realms indefinitely. Because even with their own Cores, most of them are still Living.

But they also can't agree on a World to settle down in, not with how they're still wary of reactions. So what's a city to do?

Why, pop into multiple worlds of course. A wandering city, the entrance shifting through gates and alleys and doorways that appears through time and space.

Sometimes another haunted being finds their way through, sometimes they visit one dimension more than another- sometimes they leave one behind forever. But tales still spread of the wandering city that flickers through existence.

[tubbytarchia]

Oh, I'll bow my head, I'll clip my wings I was never gonna make it anyway (x)

[dayurno]

robin cross and kevin day parallels actually go so crazy. they both spent their formative years in a basement underground with exy-obsessed captors. they both saw exy as freedom. they both were isolated even within the foxes’ group of outcasts. they were both under andrew’s protection. it cost kevin jean to leave the nest and it cost robin another girl’s life to escape her kidnapper. robin carried her racquet with her to self-soothe and kevin restrings the net of his when he’s anxious. they’re even bird coded

[stil-lindigo]

in a little over 2 weeks, I've made enough book sales to donate almost ~$10,000 to Palestinian causes! This means donations to:

MAP (Medical Aid for Palestinians)

PCRF (Palestinian Children's Relief Fund)

CareforGaza

ANERA

Safebow (which is currently working to evacuate over 50 Palestinians before Ramadan)

and a bunch of miscellaneous Palestinian escape funds on Gofundme.

I'm incredibly grateful and humbled by the response to my books on this website, and would just like to emphasise that my policy of donating 100% of my profits from my store(s) to Palestine is INDEFINITE. Pick up a book or print any time and know that your money is going to a good cause!

Thank you again, and free Palestine!

STORE (BUY MY BOOKS)

PRINTS

[runraerun]

Heard a random 90s rock song & it legit got me thinking about Steve & Billy meeting again in their twenties... Like what if s3 never happened? After the fight at the Byers, Billy kept his head down & avoided Steve? I see him as being consumed by a sense of guilt/shame & yet still not being able to apologise until, that is, the day of their graduation when he's suddenly overcome with a need to just get it off his chest. He's been crushing on this guy since he got to Hawkins & he blew whatever chance he had of even just a friendship with him, but it doesn't matter now cos he's getting out of this shithole as quickly as possible, but he can't have this guilt gnawing at him any longer...So maybe he deliberately makes sure he bumps into steve at some point and mutters out a: "Harrington. We need to talk." And sucking on a cigarette like his life depends on it, hands shaking, barely making eye contact, Billy gives the world's shittiest apology. And it feels like his heart's gonna beat out of his chest & Steve's just standing there, staring at him, an unreadable expression on his face, before saying something like: "yeah, man. I'm sorry for that night too." (In my mind either Max let drop something about Billy's homelife or Steve has deduced something's not right). Anyway. Billy finally feels like he's able to breathe again for the first time in months UNTIL steve unknowingly utters the world's most devastating sentence: "I think we could've been friends if, y'know, shit hadn't gone down the way it did...oh well." And steve gives a sort of little grin and a laugh as if what he said wasn't a major deal. "Heard you're headed back to California?" Steve asks, and Billy's barely able to nod, still struck dumb by Steve's previous offhand comment. And maybe someone calls Steve's name and suddenly that's it. The moment is broken & Steve's leaving with a "Guess I'll see you around, Hargrove... or not" and a goofy little salute. And Billy thought he'd feel better. But in fact he feels worse. Because holy shit. Steve just said they could have been friends. And that's gonna haunt him for years....

Cue a few years later and they run into each other in Chicago (listen, the idea of Billy returning to California only to realise it no longer feels like home and maybe it never did consumes me), but yeah. They bump into each other accidentally and holy shit. Steve Harrington. He looks almost exactly the same. Other than the fact he's grown out the mullet and holy shit, are those highlights in his hair??? And billy's stunned by what looks like a genuine grin of delight that crosses Steve's face once he recognises who he's walked into. And maybe they chat for a little while; Billy doesn't even know what he's saying he's so in shock at meeting his highschool crush again. But just like the last time someone calls steve's name and of course steve has a girlfriend, of course he does (joke's on billy, cos it's just robin) and suddenly the moment's broken again and steve's walking away with a casual "it was good to see you again, billy" and billy is gripped with the thought that he can't let steve slip through his fingers again. how many people get a second chance like this? he can feel his old highschool crush flickering back to life where it's buried deep in his chest and maybe steve will never like billy like that but holy shit. billy still remembers the day steve said that maybe they could have been friends if things had been different and things are different now so why not take a chance??? and billy has never felt so brave or so fucking scared in his life as he does when he steps forward and calls after steve: "Hey Harrington! Wanna meet up and catch up properly some time?" and Steve's attention is back on him and goddamn. Billy didn't even realise how much he missed those eyes until now. ANyway!! This got away from me!! But 90s Harringrove pls and thank. Also the song i heard was lightning crashes by live. like the lyrics aren't even that appropriate but there's such a nostalgic feel to it.

oh my god. OH MY GOD.

Anon, this whole message has got me in a chokehold. Like, it’s such a direct hit. 🎯🎯🎯Billy choking on an apology because he’s so painfully unfamiliar with the very concept, the absolute devastation of hearing the potential of being friends with Steve was there, but he blew it, the PINING… urgh. How Steve can unknowingly fatally wound Billy just like that.

AND THEN THE HIGHLIGHTS ARE YOU JOKING?!

I hope that things get away from you many many more times, because this was incredible.

Okay okay. Now, if I may, I will now attempt to match your freak.

ahem

—

By some serendipitous fuckin’ miracle, Steve agrees to exchange digits with him. They couldn’t find a napkin or any other god forsaken scrap of paper to write on, so they just scribbled their numbers down onto each other's arm. Billy was so fucking on edge that when he was peering down at the pale expanse of Steve’s mole-speckled forearm he damn near forgot his own phone number. Jesus, he’s a wreck…

At least whenever it comes to Harrington, anyway. Dude has like, Billy’s own personal strain of kryptonite woven in through his DNA or some shit. It would explain why his hands always get clammy and his knees feel like they’re made of fucking jello every time Steve flashed those pearly whites his way.

Christ, Hargrove, get it together…

Billy had spent the rest of the week running a finger along the wobbly looking numbers, fading more and more every day. Before they fade completely through, he finally finds his balls and dials Steve’s number.

A girl picks up, which… well, Billy knows Steve has a girlfriend. He didn’t know they’re living together though… but whatever, it don’t change shit.

“Steve around?” He asks, clenching the receiver in his fist so tightly that he can hear the plastic creak.

“Who’s asking?” The girl says, sounding pleasant despite her words. Sandy-haired, freckles. Cute, Billy remembers. Harrington always did go for the cute ones.

“Billy,” he answers, “Billy Hargrove. He’ll know who I am.”

“Oh, Billy,” The girl’s voice draws out his name like it’s an answer to a question that she’d been stuck on. “It’s about time you called.”

Which. That…

What the hell does that mean?

While Billy’s puzzling it out, she hears the girl holler for Steve, telling him Billy is on the line. His name is said with a weird amount of familiarity.

Billy switches ears and shakes out the stiffness in his hand. Focuses on breathing evenly instead of the steady flow of questions suddenly piling up in his head.

“Billy?” Steve’s voice, clear as a bell, asks from the other line.

Billy clears his throat, “hey, man.”

“Hey. I was just about to call you.” Steve says, doing that thing where he so casually drops bombs onto Billy’s world, leveling his cities with a passing word.

“Beat you to it.” Billy grins, and hears the little huff of a laugh on the other line.

“Always so competitive,” Steve teases, and Billy can just hear the smile. It makes his chest ache. It’s the sweet kind of ache, though. “Haven’t you ever heard it’s not winning that matters, it’s taking part?”

Billy shakes his head even though Steve can’t see him and sneers, “sounds like some shit losers say to each other.”

That gets a genuine laugh from Steve, all breathy and sharp, and Billy feels himself laughing along from the sheer thrill of getting Steve going.

“Jesus, I forgot how much of an asshole you are.” Steve sighs, but there’s no heat behind it. Just shit talk. It’s fine. What guys do.

“Yeah yeah. Can’t change my spots, or whatever.” Billy mumbles as he scuffs his boot along the floor. Fucking antsy. Jonesing for a cigarette. Just get on with it you piece of shit. He takes a breath and then takes the plunge. “So listen, we should hang out this weekend. I know a few good bars where we could catch up. Maybe get into some trouble.”

Steve makes a scoffing sound, “what kind of trouble are we talking here, Hargrove?”

His heart jackrabbits in his chest. He loves this part. Billy brings the receiver just a little closer to his lips. “The fun kind, Harrington.” He murmurs, voice pitched low.

There’s a brief, unbearably tense couple of seconds where Steve doesn’t speak. He just lets Billy dangle like a hooked fish. Static from the line. He doesn’t breathe. Then.

“Friday at 8?” Steve tosses the offer out, real casual-like. And with it, Billy feels the muscles around his neck and shoulders relax, like he got shot with a tranquilizer dart. Steve continues, “You wanna meet at the same coffee shop from before? I live in the apartment building just across the street from it.”

Fancy, Billy thinks. Of fuckin’ course. All the buildings on that block are the high end kind; with door men and balconies and working elevators. Billy only ever finds himself in that leg of the city when a pipe bursts or a sink gets clogged and Billy gets called in to fix it. Of course Steve’s living in the lap of luxury here in Chicago. Mommy and Daddy’s only child. Not that it’s his fault, Billy supposed. Some people are just born luckier than others.

“Sure, rich boy,” Billy grins, “bring your appetite though, I’m buying nachos.”

Steve heartily agrees. Because obviously. Who the hell could say no to that? Rich or poor, nachos are nachos.

It ain’t a date. It ain’t. It’s just two guys hanging out, y’know, catching up. For old times sake. Getting into some trouble, like Billy said. It ain’t date.

So what if he calls and asks Heather to pre-approve his outfit when everything he owns suddenly looks stupid on him? And who cares that he dabs double the amount of cologne onto his chest and triple down his pants—Billy likes to smell good, it ain’t a big deal. He wears a silver chain around his neck, the one that matches his earring, and undoes a few more buttons than usual to show it off. It’s cold this time of year but he figures they’ll be inside for most of the night anyway. Drinking, shooting pool, tossing darts. Shit like that.

Billy chain smokes as he waits outside of the coffee shop, sucking back one cigarette after the other, trying not to think about how he’s about to see Steve fucking Harrington again; the one who got away. Or, one one Billy never even fucking had a chance with in the first place, more like. He keeps wondering if he’s making a mistake. If he should just go home, forget he ever ran into that long legged, poofy haired, Bambi-eyed—

But then Steve’s there, handing Billy some froo-froo drink from inside (somehow they’d missed each other???) before he starts giving Billy a hard time for still not having a proper winter coat. Steve’s got highlights in his hair and eyeliner on his lower lashline and a spot of foam from his drink on the tip of his nose and Jesus fuck.

Billy’s in trouble.

[bloobydabloob]

i love your dirk drawings sooo much. the way you mix realism vs stylized in your dirk art goes crazy hard especially. both of your styles are so good so seeing them both used as symbolism to paint the broader picture is awesome as hell

Thank you very much, I do enjoy realistic Dirk & flat Dirk contrast too because to me both styles represent different facets of his character depending on the artwork.

His stylised form is more representative of who he is generalised as + a good representation of his separation from himself whereas a more realistic Dirk (to me) makes me feel more in touch with his character and it feels more emotional and less controlled. Even though it kind of sounds pretentious to put it this way, I view my less cartoonish Dirks as showcasing something more private and I tend to veer towards it the more emotional (positive or negative) the piece is for this reason.

[ssweetleaf]

hi i’m sophie! would i be able to request anything about riding gator for the first time? maybe he’s real big and you need some encouragement 🫣

SMUT 18+ below

˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗

Your thighs were flush against his, knees digging into the mattress, aching already from your constant hovering— not yet breaching the distance between you two because of how nervous you were. 

Gator’s cock was heavy against his stomach, twitching every so often, impossibly hard and ready, already leaking pearlescent little droplets of pre-cum that had you mindlessly salivating when you caught sight of it.

And it wasn’t that you weren’t turned on, you absolutely were— your slick arousal slipped down your thighs as proof, soaking his skin and your poor clit was throbbing, just begging for attention, like the mere touch of the rough pad of his thumb.

He was just so big.

“What is it, hon?” he hummed, a big hand reached out for you, smoothing against the supple skin of your ass as a sort of comfort. “Can see ya thinkin’ too hard.”

You bit the skin of your lip, casting your gaze downward, trying hard to keep the sight of Gator’s too big cock out of your vision.

“You’re just—” you hiccuped, hands slipping from his shoulders and making their way to your sides before he grabbed your wrists, keeping you there, wanting you to stay flush with him, to feel your skin on his and to quench his thirst for your touch. “Just so big.”

He hummed in acknowledgement, cocking a brow at you, trying hard and miserably failing to keep his smirk at bay.

“S’not funny, Gator— you might split me in half!” You pouted, smacking at his pec, huffing at the now constant pull at the corner of his lips.

“Baby, I’ve fucked you before, remember?” He mocked, hand still smoothing over your skin, your back this time.

“That’s different,” you whined, pout still prominent and you nuzzled your face into his neck, breathing in the intoxicating scent of his cheap cologne before sighing out. “M’scared I won’t be able to take you this way, daddy.”

Gator tried to ignore the jump of his cock from your little nickname for him, carding his fingers through your hair and shushing your silly thoughts of getting split in two.

“Of course you’ll be able to take me, honey,” he cooed, “you’re my best girl, remember? Ya always take me so well, even when I rough ya up a little.”

Your hips shifted at his words, cheeks searing in a flush, and the tip of his cock bumped at your clit from your movements, a soft whine escaping the confines of your throat at the act.

His voice was low, heavy on the shell of your ear.

“Daddy’ll guide ya, hon— no need to worry.”

send me asks/my inbox is open

[dawnbreakerluna]

so we all collectively agree that sylus is not 28 and is in fact more in his 30s yeah? yeah

[tooturtly]

I’m being so kind when I say: if you’re anti Caitlyn just bc she’s evil (which like, put a pin in it for now) you can’t handle the locked tomb.

Everyone in tlt is morally grey. Nobody is “good” except maybe like, a handful of children. (And even then there’s complexity bc the children are individuals of complicated backgrounds and personalities but I digress)

A core aspect of both stories is how fucked up the political systems are. Nobody born into an empire which sees the “other” as undeserving of existence/self governance can be totally morally “good”. Nobody who has to fight daily for their survival always has the privilege of taking the moral high ground. But that’s exactly what makes each character so interesting: the way they each respond to and interpret the standards they have been raised to believe, the values they have been taught to hold, the perspectives of certain individuals and their value as people.

Liking media or characters with this complexity does not mean anything about you as an individual, from a moral perspective.

We can talk about how Caitlyn never saw true repercussions for her actions and what that says about the themes Arcane ultimately ends up expressing. Or how the very overt political themes got dropped in season 2 (which I have many many thoughts on). But the locked tomb so far is a series that is deeply political and messy.

Do not enter the locked tomb thinking it’s only about snarky lesbians and wholesome relationships. Tlt makes whatever Jayce and Viktor had going on look so normal (look to campal and also the Tridentarii). It is stuffed with characters who have unhealthy codependencies, toxic family dynamics, and shitty empirial ideals, and that’s why I love it.

[suzukiblu]

can I just say- and feel free to delete if I'm getting too tmi in your inbox- what the hell. how do you keep doing this. like. ding! new kink unlocked. ding! new kink unlocked. ding! new kink unlocked. what the hell kind of black magic deal with the devil fuckery do you have going on to do that not only once but multiple times

Serious answer: It's probably largely because I tend to write from a very character-driven perspective that is VERY deep in the POV character's head/thoughts/stream of consciousness, so effectively the reader is being led through all the hyperspecific nuances of every single reason that said character is currently getting their rocks off for [ INSERT KINK HERE], and therefore if said reader is even SLIGHTLY unknowingly amenable to said kink or any related aspects of it, they are way likelier to get a "this better not awaken anything in me--gdi" moment out of reading it. But also, even if they're NOT any kind of amenable to the kink, they're still likelier to enjoy reading it because again, we're super-deep in the POV character's head and therefore, like, sympathetic to them and their perspective. And also, like, I don't generally write characters from a dehumanizing or belittling place unless it's the antagonist or a past abuser or their own issues doing it. Like, I'm generally respectful of them AS characters with personalities and desires and thoughts, not just shallow cardboard cutouts who don't have believable reactions or motivations.

Funny but probably equally accurate answer: I am screamingly, SCREAMINGLY asexual. 🖤🤍💜