folkloreforrest

[occudo]

How about the previous archive assistants team as Alice in Wonderland characters?

Micheal as the mad hatter, Eric or Gerry as the chessire cat, I can totally see Gertrude getting stuck as the caterpillar (someone just stuck a pair of antenna on her head and called it good)

Okay so I got to the previous archive assistants part and my mind went to there:

Michael-Cheshire Cat Eric- Mad Hatter Fiona- Caterpillar Emma- Queen of Hearts Gertrude- Alice Agnes- White Rabbit

[glitchedcosmos]

Every outfit this little man wears drives me fucking crazy

[lloronabella]

💔❤️‍🩹

[wreckrinho]

I...I was looking for pictures of Human Cosmo angry/upset to use as reference in my Puppet!cosmo au and...uhm...

....i have something to say....

[ivan-fyodorovich-k]

I hate Nazis so much, please understand this, and remember it when I go on to say with great reluctance that the K98k is, despite my best attempts to pull myself to a contrary position, a really cool rifle

[angelpuns]

Would be superb if every day off I didn't become paralyzed with anxiety because there's nothing substantial to distract me from it. Would be really great if that didn't happen cause I still have stuff to actually do but its not as immediately pressing as my actual job.

[silentgrim]

some simmers can be so insufferable can’t believe y’all made a guru deactivate their twitter over the lack of seasons in the new world 😭

[livelaughlovechai]

Happiest diwali/deepavali to all my moots but someone tell me why the fuck are we still turning on AC’s during diwali and why is it 29 degrees celsius. Why.

[beautiful-basque-country]

And online zionists are all celebrating the floods that have killed +150 people in the País Valencià saying they had it coming for supporting Palestine.

[hazardsk8r]

fucking freak…. i wanted to draw him

[whats-her-quirk]

have I found you, flightless bird

vampire!sanji x fem!reader

18+

warnings: yandere themes, stalking, possessive behavior, romanticized pining, scent kink, descriptions of violence and gore, blood, biting, NPC murder

divider by @/rosypotions

The second Sanji catches your scent, he knows he needs you. He hasn’t even seen you yet, but he’s intoxicated from the first breath.

His neck snaps up, like waking from a dream, to find you. He’d been lost in thought, eyes cast down from the crowd, planning his next meal. It’s almost time to feed again. Sweet and heady, your scent overwhelms him like no other has in his long life. He fights to keep his fangs retracted, an urge he hasn’t felt in decades.

There are a few others on the sidewalk, rushing to get out of the mid-autumn drizzle and gloom, but with his heightened senses, he’s able to single you out easily, even with your back turned. Stopped dead in his tracks, Sanji commits every detail he can to memory—not just your scent, but the color of your hair, your silhouette, the way you walk.

The car you drive away in.

Hands in his pockets, he keeps walking. He decides not to follow you. Not now. He hasn’t spent a lot of time in this town, partially because it’s a bit small for his liking. The lack of sunshine serves his purposes, but it’s hard to disappear here, when one needs to.

But now, that’s ok. Because there are enough dark corners where he can linger, waiting until you’re bound to appear. He’ll find you again.

He’d know your scent anywhere. He picks it up again in a dive bar on Friday night, the kind of place he only started frequenting in hopes of running into you. The town only has two or three of these places. Sanji figured he’d find you here eventually. 

You’re accompanied by a group of other women, so he can’t get too close, but at least this time, he can see your face. You’re even more beautiful than he’s been dreaming.

From his vantage point in the corner, nursing a glass of cheap red wine because it’s the only thing on the menu he can stomach, Sanji watches you order a round of shots for all six of your friends. It appears one of them is getting married. When she tries to offer her credit card, you swat her money away. You’re generous, kind, perfect — everything he could have hoped.

You all take the shots together and cheer. This might not be your first stop of the night. Even though there’s no dance floor, you form a circle around the bride-to-be and dance to the overly-loud music playing.

Seeing you, smelling you again, makes Sanji’s fangs ache. His senses are full, almost uncomfortably, of you, yet it’s not enough. He wants to breathe you in like air. He wants to dump his wine down the sink. He’d never drink the stuff again if it meant he could have a taste of you right here, right now. He’s shaking with need, which is why he knows he can’t approach you—you’re in public, and he’s not sure he can control himself.

So he waits, allowing himself to acclimate to your scent. He tries to get used to looking at you for ten, thirty, sixty seconds at a time without glancing away, needing a break from the urge to feed. Slowly, agonizingly, it gets easier to bear.

A man turns from the bar, a beer in hand. He eyes your group—you’re loud, laughing, tipsy. His attention clearly caught, he leaves his barstool and inches up next to where you’re dancing, intentionally, so you bump into him. Sanji watches you apologize and try to move away, thinking it was your fault, but with a hand to your back, the stranger only gets closer. Sanji’s jaw clenches.

You reach for one of your friends. The man keeps talking. Clearly, you don’t know him. You twist away, still smiling, so polite. He follows. It makes Sanji sick.

With a shrug, you put your back to him, facing a friend instead. The man grabs your arm. You shake him off. Sanji smashes his wine glass on the table.

Someone with a broom and dustpan arrives to clean up the glass. Sanji, consumed by the commotion around him and the white-hot anger behind his eyes, is seconds away from flying across the room and strangling someone before he realizes your friends have ushered you to the door.

Blood trickles down from a cut on his palm and drops off the tip of his finger. Distantly, he hears someone asking if he needs to go to the hospital. Sanji doesn’t respond. All he cares about is the fact that you lock eyes with him, just for a moment, before stepping back out into the dreary night with your giggling, drunk friends. And then you’re gone.

Sanji mumbles something about the bathroom before pushing his way to the back door of the bar. Outside, in the dark alley, he leans against the damp wall. It’s quiet except for the rain, the bustle from inside choked off behind the heavy door. He looks down at his bleeding hand, a minor cut from the crushed stem glass he’s not worried about. Head tipped back, Sanji brings his hand to his mouth and licks the blood from his wound, pressing his tongue to his palm until it slows.

His own blood does nothing for him, quenches neither his thirst nor his desire. He wishes it was yours instead. You’ll have to wait for another day. But he does something dangerous and lets himself imagine it.

When he closes his eyes, he can pretend his lips are pressed against the soft skin of your cheek, your wrist, your neck. He can imagine you, moaning and gasping, your blood trickling from the corners of his mouth. You’ll taste like roses and good wine. He’ll hold you close, and you’ll never want to leave him. He needs it. If he doesn’t have you, he’ll die. He’ll do anything.

Once the bleeding stops, Sanji reaches into his pocket and pulls out a pack of cigarettes. He lights one and places it between his lips, moves closer to the bar’s main entrance, and waits. Having something to occupy his mouth helps pass the time. He thinks of you, and how he can’t have you yet, but soon, he will. Until then, he has to protect you.

The next morning, the man who touched you is found dead in the alleyway next to the bar. The news reports that his neck had been snapped and his hands torn off, seemingly by the teeth of a vicious animal, thirsty for blood.

[bitesonmyneck]

ratcliffe power station by michael kenna

[contagious-watermelon]

Why do I keep seeing transmascs and trans men insisting or implying that all trans men are "female socialized," or "understand the female experience," or "navigated the world as a woman." Because yeah, sure, that can be true for some people. especially if you weren't gnc at all as a kid and didn't crack your egg until well into adulthood, it makes sense.

But they don't stop at saying they had that experience. It always comes with an addendum that trans men, as a group, all can relate to this experience. I don't know about the entirety of my demographic, but I never got even a little bit of what some of them talk about. I didn't even believe that women were scared of going out at night until I kept consistently seeing them say it, online or wherever, for years. I never realized catcalling was a thing until I saw some women complaining about it on reddit.

But they posit it as some sort of, you're safer than cis men, right? You know what it's like? Which, on top of being patently, demonstrably false in the case of myself and many other trans men, holds some unpleasant and often outright hostile implications about trans women. And they always deny it, but if you can't even conceptualize someone like me who grew up gnc, and never got the bulk (or any?) of whatever we consider to be 'female socialization,' what does that say about what you think trans girls went through, growing up? I don't want to speak for them, as I've never experienced that firsthand, but I can guarantee that (if you're even a little bit obviously trans) people don't treat you like a cis kid of the opposite gender. By and large, they don't get treated like cis boys.

It just makes me mad that we're taking this inaccurate framework that (ever so conveniently) puts trans people into the box of our assumed birth gender, and trying to fancy it up and use it with a faux-progressive veneer; never mind the way that transphobes use it to bar trans women from being athletes, or using the bathroom, or having access to any gendered resources they need. It would be bad enough to try and dust it off and use it even if it were largely accurate, due to the aforementioned connections to outright transphobia, but it literally is patently false. Not in all cases, obviously, but why are we trying to revamp this untrue, inaccurate generalization and pretend that we can make it 'trans-inclusive?'

[slutforpringles]

https://x.com/junaidsamodien_/status/1852357089072492628?s=46&t=iwK_UZLkVaXQGS10L3YqJg

Very interesting

Of fucking course 😤🙄The bias could not be more obvious.

8 time grand prix winner??? Nah he always has to wait for the upgrades. Rude newbie??? He gets them straight out of the gate.

[fish-ash-and-fish-bones]

I need to rant about Zukka and fanfics for a minute

I’ve seen multiple fics changing Sokkas canon blue eye colour to brown and at least one author said the reason was because brown people can’t have blue eyes and?!?!? not only is that racist but it’s also untrue! Not to mention this is a character in a world with actual spirits and people who can control the elements and THAT is what you’re focusing on?? Sokka has BLUE eyes people!

Zuko is almost always portrayed as a bit dumb and while I agree he has his moments he is actually really smart?? the guy successfully tracked the gaang around the world, was a master swordsman and martial artist, could infiltrate inescapable prisons and military bases easily and without getting caught, was well versed in Avatar history and lore, military tactics ect. He was a royal and was tutored all his life and people make him dumb in fics because he is dramatic and impulsive. He may not think things through but he IS smart

I’ve read a lot of fics that make sokka a swordsman on par of even better than zuko even though he had like two days of training. Sokka is very talented but two days could NEVER bring sokka onto Zuko’s level. Cmon guys

The fact that Sokka and Katara throwing around the word ashmaker like is isn’t canonically a slur and Aang being okay about it/not stopping them. Also Zuko not calling them out on it. I think Aang lets them say the slur in the series too but still.

ZUKO WAS BURNED AND BANISHED AT 13!! Not 14! Not 12!! HE SPENT 3 YEARS AT SEA!! Not 2!! My guys!! I don’t get how y’all mess that up!

I think this one is the worst and if frustrates be so much:

ZUKO DID NOT BETRAY KATARA!!! Zuko and Katara shared a moment in the catacomb when they talked about their mothers but in no way did Zuko say or indicate that he had switched to the Gaangs side. Katara assumed he switched sides despite her knowing that Zuko’s loyalty and personality at the time would not allow him to and then when Zuko did exactly what was in line with his past actions she decided he betrayed her. Plus at the western air temple she was deliberately cruel to him under the guise of protecting the gaang even though her “protection” was just her insulting him constantly. Like, I know she’s 14 but there were 3 other people who could’ve told her to knock it off and there’s no way Sokka actually thought Zuko betrayed Katara because he’s smart enough to understand that Katara as assumptions never equaled to betrayal