#will burn my college

[palepinkferriswheel]

if I have to burn the midnight oil once more, i will burn myself

[wattemeer]

🥰

[thealogie]

conservatives have simply got to stop making these standard issue democrats seem so based and cool

[cherry-pop-elf]

Drink With Me

George Weasley x Reader

AN: For poor @im-trying-my-best-yall who needs some needed fluff

Sum: George has been acting pretty weird around you recently. He keeps trying to say something to you, but whenever he does he seems to switch topics right before he says it. You figured he’s just stressed about planning for WWW after school ends, but it’s getting annoying now. So you confront him

Warning: Short and Sweet

“Georgie! Hey, I gotta ask you something!”

There you hurried after him, to cut him off from heading to his next class. The rare times he and Fred weren’t glued to the hip. George took up new class that just wasn’t Fred’s speed. Was something about Baking if you recall correctly. Fred prepared to cook. Had to take the chance, while he’s alone, so no one could intercept you both.

“Hey shortie, what’s up?” He would ruffle at your hair, as you quickly fixed it. Those Weasleys and their string bean genes. Made him tower over you. Always left with a hurt neck if you talked to him too long. Hopefully this will be short.

“You’ve been trying to ask me something for the past few days, and I figured now that I caught you that you can tell me. So what’s up?” You asked him. Asking seemed to be what he feared the most out of you.

His wand was soon rubbing his neck, his freckles cheeks flushing, and his doe eyes darting. He just seemed to instantly clammer up. Just not seeming to be the confident ladies man he normally is. He is just a wet hand mess. What was going on?

“Oh yeah….That. Yeah uh….Um.”

Oh how his eyes were darting around. He was trying so hard to find an excuse to not Ben in this situation right now. To find something to make him shut up. To escape this pin. But no one was around. No one anywhere, not even Peeves to give mercy to the bastard in the Gryffindor Robes. He needed to face this head on.

“Was um. Just wondering if you wanted to hit up the Three Broomsticks together. That’s all.” He tried his best to act casual, and shrug. Made you all the more confused.

Why is this making him so flustered?

“Ok…..Werido. That sounds nice. We could hit it up sometime after class. Fred and Angelina should be-“

“Without them…..”

Oh…..Oh.

Just the two of you. No brother, no other friends. Just the two of you. Like a date. Like a normal date that normal couples do. Normal normal normal little dating. Just a date between two people. A date date.

“……I uh. Yeah, I think I can do that.” You swallowed, as this was starting to really register now. He wanted to ask you out on a date. Still, why was he so flustered over it? He’s asked out plenty of guys and gals before. Never sweat this much. Even Fred straight up called Angelina across the table to the Yule Ball, and that was the end of that. What made you different?

“You weren’t dared to do this, were you?”

He stared down at you with the most offended expression possible. As if you called him a blood traitor. Some kind of slur that would make Molly faint. He looked ready to smack you, but of course he wouldn’t. He never would lay a hand on you. Unless you asked.

“What?! The hell you mean ‘was this a dare-‘ bullshit? No! This isn’t some dare. What gave you an idea like that? Fred and I have standards. Pranks like that are not only overly simplistic, but there is no joke at the end of it. Who’s laughing? No one. Give me some respect-!”

He gave you a hip bump, and it made you laugh. Helped you feel a little better over the whole situation. Maybe you were different for other reasons. Maybe he was bashful because you two had been friends for so long. It is pretty awkward to ask a friend out. If they say no, well….You can’t really take back what you said.

“Ok ok, I’m sorry Mr. Weasley. I shall never question your pranking methods again. Now hurry to class, before you get detention. If you get detention we can’t grab butter beers. Go on and get-!” You hip bumped him right back, and he gave that cute crooked smile. One that showed there was no worries to ever hold. That he’s all laughter.

“Alright I’m gone! All gone! Poof!” And down the hallway he went. Vanishing around the corner, as you now were dancing a squealing. Flapping away at your robes in total utter glee.

George Weasley asked you out.

Had you stimming like crazy, unaware that a certain red head had his own stimming session all the same. Flapping his hands to try and calm down. So damn happy you said yes.

[martinsorbit]

Would Sun Fnaf doing ur homework count as submitting AI generated art

oh, the technicalities of it all.

[trans-axolotl]

content note: discussion of suicide.

this next monday will be the six year anniversary of losing one of my friends to suicide.

when he died, my high school barely mentioned his death, even though for other students who died by things like car crashes or illness, there were so many public expressions of grief. they believed that having any memorials for a student who died by suicide would encourage other people to die the same way. in their rush to erase the circumstances of his death, they erased the memory of his life.

there are so many things i am angry at that high school about in terms of how they treated mental health (mandatory reporting and collaborating with cops, their refusal to recognize the ways in which that system led to peer-to-peer crisis support, their refusal to recognize the ways that trying to keep each other alive through trial and error was scary and exhausting, carceral disciplinary policies, etc etc etc). but i think one of the things i am still angriest about is the way they enforced shame around his death. it felt like they were retroactively blaming him for the constellation of circumstances that made suicide an option in his life. it felt like they were blaming those of us who missed him and cared about him and wanted to grieve him. it made those of us still there who were actively suicidal feel even more scared about the reaction if we did reach out for help from one of those mythical safe adults.

as an adult now involved in psych abolition/mad liberation work, it makes me so fucking mad to see the ways in which he was discarded by people in authority positions. and the older i get, the more options i have found in my life for making sense of the world and finding healing and community and support which were never available to him because he died when he was 16 and the only things offered to him were a carceral psychiatric system that blamed him for his own fucking death. it feels so incredibly unfair.

i miss him and i think i always will; i can't remember his laugh or the sound of his voice or his favorite color any more and that aches. this grief is so heavy and it feels harder in a new way each year, when i become older than he will ever be. sometimes meeting new comrades or seeing new anticarceral suicide support models hurts because i wish so fucking bad that we had that back then. i remember how close we came to losing even more people that year and i know it is simple fucking luck that i'm still here when he's not.

i remember another letter (never sent) that i wrote to a friend while they were in an ICU bed after a suicide attempt when i didn't know if they would live or not. i have spent so much time in the past 10 years begging for anything to keep me and my friends alive, but even in that letter i knew that there is so much fucking violence that is hidden beneath psychiatric logics of cure and safety that promise a "solution" to suicide. I knew that institutionalization, coercion, and shame would not have helped build a life more liveable for him or **** or any of the people i've loved and lost since.

there needs to be more fucking options for care and support that aren't so incredibly cruel to suicidal people. i know so many people doing incredible work in alternatives, peer respite, a million different frameworks for healing and liberation. but it makes me so mad every day i have to live in a world where there are still people restrained, locked up in psych wards, having all autonomy and personhood taken away from them. knowing there are dozens of people every day getting blamed for their deaths the same way he was blamed for his.

i miss him. i cared so fucking much for him. and he died by suicide, and all of those things are true. he has been dead for 6 years and he lived before that and the people who loved him want to remember all of him; our celebrations of his life should not require hiding the way that he died.

Image description: [1000 origami cranes in all different colors and patterns that are tied together in strings of 25]

(these were the 1000 cranes we made to give to his parents, in memorial and recognition of how much he meant to us.)

[kitamars]

hello. um. sorry for disappearing for like two months. imagine me getting hit with a truck called “The Worst Creative Block In Your Life” and getting thrown headfirst into the gintama rabbit hole. it’s quite cozy down here. i think i need help.

anyways, have a bunch of accumulated doodles plus this terrifying kagura as apology tehe :3

[corviiids]

i think yagami light could never have had a happy life regardless of whether he'd picked up the death note. i think the tragedy of yagami light is not his circumstances it is his character. that is my opinion. thank you. can i get the check please

[cyberdragoninfinity]

gleefully taking arc-v characters, picking them up putting them in kansas putting them in college shaking the jar observing them like an ant farm etc etc etc

[cjgladback]

I went to my first fiber festival this past weekend! Hoosier Hills Fiber Festival; if I'm still in this state come June next year, I'll probably be back and would love to meet anybody else there. Socializing/hanging out/talking to people without feeling like I was obstructing Real Customers was the one thing I missed, though I didn't really get to any of the free lectures so maybe that's where I could've met some people. Since it was an unknown situation with a lot of people and nearly an hour drive each way, I strategized to make sure I'd go:

First day, I signed up for a couple volunteer shifts. Absolutely a recommended strategy.

Got to be helpful!

They happened to have goodie bags, to help me justify the gas and time (I now have a nice tape measure to replace the one that's been vacationing with a missing sewing kit for a couple years and a lasercut wood two-inch gauge window that might help me with consistency versus my suboptimal practice of just trying to knit perfect squares when swatching in pattern)

I got to learn things about the layout and schedule I wouldn't know to ask when answering questions and acting as a gofer -- especially true working two different locations

And of course, some people were pretty much guaranteed to be happy to see me!

Second day, I signed up for a workshop in the morning so I'd be there and able to shop for anything I needed at the end. Ombre yarn dyeing was the class! It's acid dyes, something I'm several years off from wanting to get into enough to commit to dedicated cookware, full pots of dye powder, etc. The room with the workshop was a barn that had plenty of outlets--but they did not represent plenty of breakers. So there weren't quite enough functional heating elements for the class to have sufficiently cooked our yarn before leaving, and I did need to risk a giant stock pot at home for three batches of four jars, almost-simmering in a water bath for thirty minutes each, of the yarn that hadn't proven it was done (all but the two palest greens). I was a little worried the delay/drawn out heat situation would affect the results but if it did it wasn't much; I got pretty much exactly what I was hoping for with my two color gradient and the single is great too!

The single dye gradient is the color Moss, which did some interesting things with the red portion separating out once they were heated. Every skein has redder blotches, so I'm not bothered about any inconsistency -- if anything it'll help my finished product camouflage stains. Though it was definitely a surprise for me and the other Moss user in the class when our first yarn to have exhausted the dye was the complementary color to what it went in as.

The two color gradient used Rhodamine Red on one end, which was one end of one of our instructor's samples where she chose a cool-green for the other end to show how multi-component dyes mix less predictably than most paint. (It was kinda like shading with markers where you can still see washes of the pink and green in what you squint at and call a grey-brown.) The other end was Cantaloupe, which was one of the maybe three colors she didn't have a sample cut of yarn for. But she described it as the flesh of a perfect ripe cantaloupe and obviously I had to see that, and it sounded like it would be fairly guaranteed to combine nicely with the magenta while being just enough around a bend in the color wheel to be interesting--warm orange versus cool pink. As I said, it turned out pretty much exactly as I was picturing. Not anticipated was how much the jars looked like they were full of some delicious dragonfruit-mango beverage. Were I still a barista I'd be trying to recreate this for my shift drink.

Image descriptions under the cut.

[ID: Five images following fourteen small skeins of sock yarn dyed in individual glass jars, in two gradients. One gradient is six skeins from a medium forest green through a pale creamy pink, the other is eight skeins from a vibrant yellow orange through an even more vibrant magenta. The first photo is inside under fluorescent lights, showing the 32oz glass canning jars with metal lids and rings, full of dye and yarn on a table at the end of the class in which they were filled and heated for a short time.

The next two images are animated gifs. The first gif is two frames showing the finished dye jars sitting in grass, with their yarn and with it removed. The green gradient left only transparent blue color in its jars, and most of the pink to orange gradient's water looks more orange without its yarn, aside from the third and fourth jars from the orange end, which shade toward a neon lilac with the peachy pink yarn removed. The second gif is a view of the inside of the bright green wash bucket, with just the pink-orange yarn in it, then all of them mixed up, all as they were after a soak with the rust-brown water, in the first rinse, and that rinse water alone showing its transparent but still brown tint.

The last two photos show the gradients lined up along a weathered wooden bench on the side of a deck. The first photo has the wet piles of yarn bundled in front of each of their respective jars with remaining dye. The final photo has the clean, dry yarn wound into center-pull balls and still vibrant in the direct sunlight. End ID]

[uncanny-tranny]

Something that bothers me a bit about Americans talking about The Golden Age of the economy is... It wasn't a golden age, not for everyone.

People seem to universalize the fact that you could afford college and rent when... That was true for specific people. It wasn't the universal - especially those who were Black, or Indigenous, or for PoC in general, or women, or queer and trans people. Universalizing any stage of America's history only tells one story. You don't acknowledge the stories of anyone else when you do this.

This just reminds me of Paris Is Burning, and of what was said about the ballroom participates, many of whom were BIPoC and/or queer:

[Video Description: A clip from the documentary Paris Is Burning (1990). Pepper LaBeija is sitting on a chair and she is saying:

Those balls are, more or less, like our fantasy of being a superstar, you know like the Oscars or whatever. Or being on a runway as a model. You know, a lot of those kids that are in the balls, they don't have two of nothing. Some of them don't even eat. They come to balls starving, and they sleep in the under twenty-one, or they sleep on the pier or whatever. They don't have a home to go to, but they'll go out and they'll steal something and get dressed up and come to a ball for that one night and live the fantasy.

/End of Video Description]

[marihem]

Hiiiiiiii!!! I need your frans AUs injected into my veins POST HASTE. I'm lowkey missing your Roommate AU rn! Your probs super busy with art and comms, but I'd love to hear about any of your head canons for how their specific story goes and if they'll ever realize their affections for each other (if ever)

AAAAAWWWWW I'm really glad to hear that dear anon 🥹🥹 Thank you for thinking about them even while I'm on a break from them ^^ (unbelievable, what kind of a parent am I smh). I am indeed a tad bit busy with the comms but it's mostly because I'm juggling with college works on the side...or rather it's the comm works that should be the side work, you know, priorities. And also because I'm a hella slow drawer that it's actually painful to see how damm slow I am haha

Aaahh Roommate Banter AU...to set the scene, it takes place in a universe where there wasn't any war between monsters and humans and they've always lived in cohesive (like Deltarune). Frisk is an adopted child of Asgore and Toriel Dreemurr who are now seperated (lol) but are on good terms. Frisk is closer to Asgore who's the mayor of their small town which motivated them to pursue in Political Science. Sans and Papyrus are just orphans who, after some hard work, live stably in their home and jobs. Frisk and Sans were in the same neighborhood for a long time and in later events, they both decided to rent an apartment together that is near Frisk's university (going back for Master's in political science) and Sans' job (intern at the Ebbott City Lab). And they were roommates...(please say the Line for me)

And honestly, I don't have any plans of a story for this AU. This is more of a slice of life style thing with no plot. I could go into stuff about the Sans' job at the Lab and what Frisk does with their knowledge to contribute to upgrading their town and community together with Asgore. But I'm too dumb for that and all I wanna focus on is these two lil guys. Maybe they will recognise their affection for each other some day and do something about it but until then, this is what you'll have. Because I'm a lover of slow burn who lives for the build ups and times before the getting-together, who thinks a slow burn should take 150k words MINIMUM (still haven't gotten it), all you'll get from me is the prankings, the pinings, the bickerings, annoying roommate moments, etc etc. with no plan for them get together :3 I'm sorry! ✋️✋️

Anyways thank you for being interested in my blorbos ^^ I had to make a doodle for you! I wish you a wonderful day/night pal <3

[jittersbitters]

So, I recently started rewatching Arcane S1 to fill the hole in my soul(lovejayvik tho, that completed me for like 10 minutes) after what ever was S2 and got a little carried away after reading some really good fics on this website.

I also finished watching Superstore and Bridgerton so its been a spiraling thanksgiving week,

Anyway, I know I said Matt Murdock was coming but I got really distracted... So here is a part of a draft scene in a viktorxreader smut fic set during his earlier academy years (and eventually into the series events? if I can manage that long) I wanna post soon.

I tried to shift my thigh away, looking up at him, surprised by his boldness - his hand following after. A flush of warmth settled in my stomach, mixed emotions bubbling up my throat as I struggled to swallow them back down. I could feel the intensity of his gaze as I quickly looked back to my paper. Viktor turned his hand over, tapping a gentle rhythm on the top of my thigh like he was playing piano. “If you just needed a little motivation,” he started, leaning close as if studying my notes. His taps slowly moved to drag up and down, callouses start to scrap the goose flesh building up as he made sure to linger along the hem of my skirt's slit. His intentions were unmistakable. “Then all you need to do is pay attention and write your notes.” I could only swallow hard, aware of the game we'd been playing over the past few months. The exchanged glances, light touches, the foot games, the playful teasing. It all began the day he took my pen, and since then, the tension had only grown, with neither of us trying to pull back, but rather escalate it. He kept tapping my thigh, expectantly waiting for my response or a sign. I glanced at Viktor again; his golden eyes sparkled with wanton glee, sending my heart racing as I thought of the possibilities and the ramifications of being caught. We rarely interacted outside this room, so I wondered what the harm could be... right?

I felt a little freaky and missed the old Vik.

Tell me what you think. Either way its being finished and written with hopefully at least 3 parts in total. I think it will be called 'The Long Game' or 'With Sugar & Spice"

Edit: it's up yall. Here

[coern-art-very-cool-and-nice]

sekai au 👊😔

[la-galaxie-langblr]

today on random languages my brain is going 👀 at is biblical hebrew and biblical greek

[myboxofcookies]

"He's not even released yet, you should wait a little more before you ever think of making an oc based on-"

Also me: