#well f*%!

[foxsoulcourt]

another elected official punished in the US

The article from Daily Montanan, 26 April 2023 shares that the Montana GOP's undemocratic decision to ban her from participating in debate on the House floor was 68-32 along party lines.

It's cold comfort that Rep Zephyr will be able to vote remotely.

[prettyflyshyguy]

FELT IS THE WARMEST PLACE TO HIDE

[ctrlzxoo]

ROUND 7: amongst a sea of green, is a glimpse of snow

Bonus: happy end(?)

[toonsforkicks22]

If threatening Vicky says how much Timmy meant to them, imagine the absolute beef they have with his parents 💔

[beif0ngs]

alright look, i just wanna know who is the writer that came up with the dumbass idea of replacing the line “Ever since I lost my son, I think of you as my own” with “Lu Ten would have been proud to have you as his father” in this scene for the Netflix live action series???

[thewindowofthesummerhouse]

Richard Wells

[retributory]

if a bingqiu hater puts the blame on any weirdness in their relationship solely on binghe you KNOW they can't read. this is a freak4freak relationship okay. sqq is the guy that got offended and sulky because binghe DIDN'T hen-peck him into cuddling. he openly admits to loving the tearful lamb act. he likes having a clingy needy girlfriend he has to reassure constantly. he got so horny watching his husband pour qi into his dead body that he woke up and immediately pounced on him and fucked him straight into a qi deviation. when he heard the rumor that binghe raped him his internal argument was that this could never happen because if binghe wanted to have sex with you, you would just let him, so it's not rape. he's literally insane. they're perfect for each other in the sense that they're both bugfuck crazy.

[somerandomcockroach]

I have a headache because of MOMU (from 72th chapter) (Also will link this art by Kef because for god's sake my brain took angles from here)

[cochineal-leviat]

"Our dear party celebrate after acquiring the third orb to unlock the House of Dormont. Their location? A tavern. It is a night to drink your worries and sorrows away. Hopefully, they will be able to relax before continuing their formidable journey.

Unfortunately, the booze has more unintended consequences than the group had considered. Especially on their new roguish member."

This is my first ISAT fic (that I have finished), and I am so stoked to share it with everyone! I also drew a comic with it because I was so excited about the story. This is definitely one of my best comics yet. I have been experimenting with panelling, and I am getting the formula down now after much trial and error.

I had a lot of fun designing Siffrin's clothes under the cloak (I even drew a reference for it in my sketchbook). I love designing clothes <3. Especially tunics. It seems a little too fancy for Sif's tastes, but I am chalking it up it being a gift from someone from a long time ago rather than something Siffrin would buy or get on his own)

Please enjoy~!

*Edit*

I decided to continue the comic because of the overwhelming support I received (o゜▽゜)o☆. The link is under this paragraph.

Part 2

(Also, there are no spoilers for the game itself! Except for the ending notes of the fic, but I will place a warning there)

Different coloured pages without text under keep reading

Initially, I worked with different shades of grey for anyone: Siffrin has violet grayscale, Isabeua red, Mirabelle yellow, and Odile Green. But I ended up putting a black-and-white filter on it for unification. Please let me know if you guys prefer the 'coloured' versions more or not, and I will change the comic pages into the OG colouring. The purple for Siff is giving, but I am unsure if it is too noisy.

[astriiformes]

I know for some people trans headcanons are more about the vibes than anything else, but I personally love to really think them through to absolutely ridiculous conclusions.

Last night we were talking about trans Marty McFly and the fact that Marty Jr. and Marlene are very obviously his biological kids. But to be the right age they would have to have been born in the mid-to-late 1990s, and reciprocal IVF (one of the most popular ways for trans men to father kids) wasn't really pioneered until 2007. Which some people might be tempted to just handwave and say it doesn't matter but I think the much funnier explanation is. Time machine.

[tivxtl]

Enki and the girl from my first playthrough because i love them and i like to think they’ve grown to care for each other too.

(Had my account deleted so im posting these again just to have them on my blog, apologies for the confusion)

[linnytheseagull]

More classic literature YouTubers because it's so funny to me

Bonus content:

[bravo666]

mdni • price x f!reader

captain price has a ritual and his men know better than to disturb. every time 141 gets back from an op and rumbles back to hereford, they unload, debrief, file the necessary reports and then some, all that dreary bureaucracy that needs to be done within the first couple hours of touching back onto english soil. and then, at the first opportunity, he fucks off. captain’s privilege, he says.

the others do too—on the town or to the bunks or to their own flats or wherever—but price never joins them. he has his own destination in mind and it’s a solo journey, so quit nosing about trying to find out, sergeant. he’s only ever gone for a few hours, six at the most, before he rolls on back to base, squares his shoulders, and throws himself back into work. at least he always seems a bit lighter when he comes back.

said destination is a pub not one, not two, but three villages over. the further from base, the less likely it is for him to run into one of his men, and he’d just hate it if that happened, would feel like a dog dragging mud in through the garden door, crossing his wires. he might not like it about himself, but john price is a greedy and selfish man, and the pretty little thing that’s been tending bar for the past few years is a morsel that he wants to keep all to himself, cradled in his jaw and savored.

the dingy pub is nondescript and uncreative, a local establishment that’s been around since anyone can remember and hadn’t changed a whit. price found the place back when he was first made captain and started looking for further out watering holes, looking for some peace and quiet away from the places where the recruits drank. he almost wrote the place off his lists of spots before he saw the flustered young bartender duck in for her shift.

since then, he’s been a regular—for a given value of ‘regular’, as much as a military man can be—ever since. started swapping conversation after the third or fourth visit. polite conversation turned friendly, then raucous with laughter, then warm and teasing.

that’s as far as he let’s it go, naturally. with a job like his, he’s married to his work; there’s no room, no time in his life for a sweet little wife, no matter what he dreams at night with his cock fisted in his grip or whose face he happens to see play the role. he tried the whole wife thing once, chased after it, even, and all price has to show for it is an alimony payment set to automatically go out every month.

(his ex-wife couldn’t handle him in the end. she was the type of woman who needed him at every hour to keep her love alive and couldn’t stomach the weeks alone while he was deployed, and even when price was home, she didn’t have an appetite to match his when he slipped himself off his leash. they both jumped into it without looking ahead. such is life.)

so he ignored the hungry need for a woman beside him, and even if he ever did go down that route again, it couldn’t be her. she’s young and bright and untouched by blood. playful flirting and occasional brushes of fingers hovered somewhere plausibly deniable as a service worker buttering up a favorite patron, or—and price only lets this thought loose for a moment before snatching it and shoving it down with a growl—a friend. he’s gone half the year anyway, or something like it. every time he comes, he carries the irrational, ugly fear that in she’s moved on, moved out, got a new job, left the country, got married—

when he shoulders through the door now, sawdust sticking to his boots, his girl’s—because that’s what she is, even if it’s only the sight of her that he lets himself claim and hoard—wiping down glasses behind the sill, the pub just about empty as all the old timers went home. his first thought is that she’s still there, thank god. his second’s that she’s changed up her hair. it looks good. price pointedly ignores the way the sight of her with her new hair and those pretty lips makes him chub up a little.

his girl’s eyes crinkle a little when she looks up toward the door. “john,” she says warmly, and before he’s even seated at his usual spot on the bar, she’s filling him up his favorite pint. “how are you doing, handsome? just got back from saving the world?”

a snarling, hungry, traitorous part of his brain tells him that his wife is being so good, keeping him fed and watered, and the only thing next on her wifely duties is to keep his balls drained. he tells it to go stuff itself.

“still working on it, sweetheart,” price says with a sip. maybe it was worth it, when she asked a while ago why he showed up so irregularly, to tell her that he was SAS, if only for the way she called it after. saving the world. that’d be nice.

this time, though, he notices something else that’s new besides the hairstyle, and it makes his beer taste like dust in his mouth. a glint in the light, on his girl’s left hand.

not really his girl anymore, is she?

price swallows down his mouthful and tries to quell the sudden heat that rises in his veins, a raging anger that feels, inexplicably, like he’s been stolen from. his molars clench together for dear life as he rearranges, tames, quiets himself. it was fine. it was fine! she’s just his bartender, is all. his friend. modern country and whatever, she could go meet whoever, get engaged to whoever, fuck whoever, and if she was happy, then—then price would have to be happy for her.

(she better be happy, he thinks. if whatever little boy she’s found isn’t making her feel like a bloody princess every god damn day then he doesn’t deserve the fingers he touches her with or the cock between his legs—)

this was good, even. with a ring on her finger, price’d always have a reminder that pretty girls didn’t owe him anything, don’t belong to him like a dog with a bone. kill the fantasy, keep his head on the missions. a better soldier. it’s that tightening thought that lets him calm himself enough to say “congratulations are in order, i assume?”

his gi—the—she furrows her brow in confusion, but she follows price’s gaze—how could she not, with him practically burning a hole in her finger with his stare—and laughs. “oh, that,” she says, easy as ever. “no, nothing’s happened.” she wiggles the ring off her finger and sliding it across the counter to price for his inspection.

under his touch, the tell is obvious: it’s plastic, cheap, almost gummy plastic. the faux diamond is cheap acrylic, only close to sparkling because she’s gone through and polished it up. it takes him a moment before he puts it together, but before he does, he briefly becomes so angry that he thinks he might actually kill a civilian for treating her this way.

“bought that online for five quid,” she keeps going. “just to stop some of the patrons from asking questions, or flirting, or, you know, trying to introduce me to their nephews and that kind of thing.”

a decoy ring. a dummy, a shield, something with no actual suitor attached to the other end. price is so relieved that he can feel every muscle in his aching body untense, and it pisses him off because he knows he shouldn’t care this much about his friend’s love life. “smart,” he says, his voice a bit thick before he clears it. “smart. though, you know, sweetheart, you could always try telling them you’re not interested.”

“please, john, you think i haven’t tried?” she shrugs. “no, most of them don’t listen without seeing a little proof that that seat is taken. always thought they could convince me otherwise. the ring shuts up most of them, and the few that still don’t get the hint, i end up having to tell them stories about ‘my husband’ before they piss off.”

the word husband coming from her mouth makes something rumble in price’s chest that’s becoming dangerously difficult to ignore. he tries a chuckle, tries to focus on the feeling of his beard bristling his own cheeks and not the way they would feel against hers, and tries to lighten the mood. “so, what, you just make up stories about this husband of yours? grand tales of romance?”

but she looks away, and—is his girl flustered? she picks up a rag in her hands and starts wiping idly at the counter, like she’s trying to avoid his eyes. “oh, you know,” she says. “i keep it simple. just enough to, er, get them to stop, and consistent, so they can’t pick holes. he’s—he’s in the military. leads a team.”

then, quietly, “he’s out there saving the world.”

the dog slips his leash.

when price finally leaves to make the long drive back to base, his shirt rumpled and his chin wet with slick, he keeps the plastic ring in his back pocket, not bothering to give it back. why would he? she doesn’t need it anymore, because he’s going to buy his girl the real diamonds that she deserves.

[kinnbig]

Jeff Satur | The Paradise of Thorns (วิมานหนาม)

[comfort-character-central]

Imagine your f/o wrapping their arms around you, placing a few stray kisses along your face and head before burying their head in the crook of your neck (or shoulder). "Really needed this," They murmur affectionately. "Missed you a lot, you know..."

[the-femslash-wishlist]

Yes, yes, The L Word intentionally excluded.

Place your answer in the tags if it’s none of the above, especially if it’s The Facts of Life, or South of Nowhere, or Sailor Moon, or Skins, or Rizzoli & Isles, or Grey’s Anatomy, or Person of Interest, or Orange is the New Black, or Orphan Black, or Steven Universe, or Agent Carter, or The Bold Type, or Killing Eve, or Captain Marvel, or The Haunting of Bly Manor, or Critical Role, or Warrior Nun, etc. etc. etc. eta: or Legend of Korra, or Wicked, etc. etc.

It was hard to whittle the choices down to 12, okay?