i know i've posted some of these before

PSA

💙Trans men aren’t Men Lite™
💙Trans men aren’t inherently smol little flower babies
💙Trans men aren’t a sexless, pocket version of Cis Men
💙Infantilizing grown trans men is creepy and gross
💙Trans men can like sex
💙Trans men can be very masculine
💙Trans men can be dominant
💙"All men" includes trans men

2

Lotor and the Generals, finally!


They would have full armor and everything and I’ll figure that out one day, but we’re appreciating the patterns and bodies here, so

4

Parsley, Sage, Rosemary, and Thyme…

The way The Adventure Zone juggles humor and drama reminds me of Scarborough Fair/Canticle. On the one level it’s an old nonsense song, and then on the other you’ve got a pretty serious poem describing the horrors of war. I also drew it because my response to all the intense, amazing plot twists has apparently been to post even more jokey scribbles, haha. So here are the boys, tromping through the woods, probably just before The Suffering Game. Magnus is getting an inkling of what’s coming in the arcs ahead…

(Do we know how well Taako and Magnus sing? Hmm.)

I pulled colors from some Breath of the Wild screencaps! I’m unlikely to play it but golly is it a gorgeous game!

This sucks to write, but I feel like it needs to be said.

The Korean public is not ready for Jinki to return yet. It’s as simple as that.

From all Korean Shawols I have talked with since I got here including those who aren’t Shawols and are just aware of shinee agree that this situation was shitty and have forgiven him for it. They want to see him happy. They want to see him going to the concert. But, the Korean public as a whole isn’t ready for Jinki to come back. He hasn’t even gone through the entire court process yet which, I’ve heard, is long and arduous. In sexual harassment cases, even if the case is dropped, they still have to go through the court system, it’s Korean law.

Think about it this way.. Siwon and the issue with his dog, a little more crazy, right? The woman who passed could have had tons of issues before it got to this point, she could have had other diseases other than what his dog gave her, but that’s not what people see. They see a bad owner who happens to be famous. This was such a national topic, my co-teacher who knows very little about pop bands asked me if I read about it the next day. And, consequentially, Siwon wasn’t apart of the activities with Super Junior this time around despite being in the music video. This was such a national topic when it initially happened, my co-teacher who knows very little about pop bands asked me if I read about it the next day.

If it’s taking time to get over a dog biting a human, it’s going to take a lot longer considering Jinki’s allegations.

And it sucks.

I know it sucks.

I hate it. All the Shawols hate it here too..

I’m mad at his friends for letting him get that drunk and then not protecting him, I’m mad at him getting that drunk in the first place, I’m mad at that woman’s boyfriend for insisting she press charges, but most of all, I’m just downright sad. Recently we had seen a change in Jinki, a more open mind, and heart, and now I’m afraid we won’t see that side of Jinki for a long long time.

On the lighter side of things, I love looking for Shawols are doing to support Jinki and show our love. If you currently go to Jinki’s Instagram, his last post has 93.9k comments and climbing while most of his other posts have around 7 to 10k. Every day I see people requesting pictures of Jinki in my Shawol group kakao chat. It’s these little things that let me know Jinki will have love and support through this whole process, and that’s the most important thing we can take away from this.

my not-quite-new years resolution is to stop saying/implying that I’m not a functional grown up, that I’m afraid of “adult” things or that I’m bad at “adulting” or anything like that where I diminish my maturity and ability.

there are already lots of people out there who would infantalize me for various reasons and I don’t need to be one of them. I need to do the opposite.

also the truth is…..I’m actually really good at this stuff when I need to be. I can make phone calls and appointments and handle paperwork and interviews and errands and responsibilities. I’m almost 27, I’ve done it all before and I’ll do it again. So what if some things makes me nervous or tired or confused? That still doesn’t mean I’m bad at them. I know how to handle everyday adult things as well as anyone else, how to figure out solutions to my problems and handle them and I do it all the time and I’m actually pretty good at it, so yeah, no more of that!

4

Nice To Meet You Too.

12:17 a.m.

Seychelle left Tobias alone as she went around asking for a ride home (thanks to Augie). After an hour of no sign of Seychelle, Tobias began to sober up by the pool. 
__________________________

- “Tobias, right?”
- “…”
- “I saw Augie’s twitter. You and Seychelle can crash at my place if you guys can’t find a ride.”
- “Eurhh, nah, It’s cool. Neither Seychelle or I are down to drive any where else but home, tonight.”
- “Where’s there to drive to when you’re already there?”
- “Mm..? I’m sorry but, who are you again?”
- “Pffbbt, I’m Maxine but, people call me ‘Max’. Funny how you’d walk into someone’s house without knowing who it belongs to.”

__________________________

(previously) (Augie’s Twitter)

punstoppablechatnoir  asked:

Could you draw some Adrienette? From your sketch post, I believe it's still open Thanks

“I’ll still be right here..”

Sketch Requests Info Post :) 

Many years have passed since. Time has smudged the memory like ink on damp paper. Still, I managed to remember the important parts. Or at least I think so. How do we know what is important if all the other details are forgotten?

It was the middle of summer. A muggy day in a town I’d never been before. We stayed in a small house by a green lake. My father handed me my bag from the trunk of our Volvo. A screen door creaked shut behind me. It was not long before sand had seeped into every slit in the hardwood and every crack in the sofa. My mother never could seem to sweep it all up. I remember flip flops and sunburns and tangled hair. I remember the sound of my parents’ bickering turning into shouting.

Much of that day I spent underwater. I think I liked the way the silence was loud enough to block everything else out. Maybe that green lake was my friend in that way.

I don’t remember the reason why they fought or if it had truly been as bad as I thought. And yet the reasons seemed so important then. No matter how hard I tried to ignore their voices, I found myself replaying their words in my mind. Trying to figure out how to mend their wounds. I always thought there was something to be fixed and someone who needed to do the fixing. I thought I was that person. I know now that I never was.

My father took me outside. We sat side by side in plastic chairs. The sunlight had disappeared behind the trees. I could feel his eyes on me, mine stared ahead; too weak to look back without giving into the tears. He told me it wasn’t my fault. Then he told something I haven’t been able to get out of my head since that night.

“Ilee, how are you supposed to know when you’re truly happy if you don’t know what it feels like to be sad?”

I stayed quiet and the next night put my bags back in the trunk of our car. Sand had found its way into my socks, in the spaces between my toes. I guess that was a part of that place that I carried home with me.

No one said much on the car ride home. And when we finally got home, things went back to the way they were. I still thought about what my father had told me. I found myself thinking of my life in terms of opposites. Could I only know love if I first understood hate? Could I only really know wealth if I once knew misfortune? These are questions I still ask myself. But maybe it is not about knowing but appreciating. Perhaps you cannot truly appreciate happiness without first experiencing sadness.

For the rest of that summer, I appreciated every moment of happiness with more vibrancy. Or perhaps it just felt more vibrant in comparison to what I had felt that day by the lake. Or maybe there is no a difference.

—  I.W.

daisyachain  asked:

The gold of the Nauglamir still glittered dully beneath the rapidly drying blood of its previous bearer. Beren lifted the necklace carefully by the chain and held it at arm’s length, examining it closely. His scalp prickled as he thought of the last time he had seen the thing, gleaming at the throat of King Finrod Felagund. Now it seemed merely a twisted echo of its former self, and when he looked at it he saw nothing but the image of Finrod lying on the cold stone floor with blood covering his face and his eyes staring up at the darkness.

At last his eyes were drawn reluctantly down to the jewel, which burned clean and bloodless in its setting. It looked grotesquely out-of-place, he thought, wondering what had possessed Thingol to combine what must be the two most ostentatious pieces of jewelry in the world into one horrifying creation. The Silmaril caught the light so effectively even as it generated its own that Beren could hardly bear to look at it, yet he did not glance away. It seemed to be daring him to do so, but he thought he would let himself go blind before he allowed the damned thing to best him.  

“The gem is yours, if it is anyone’s,” a voice said close to his ear, and Beren jumped. He had become quite good at detecting the silent approaches of the Lindi, but Almwë could still sneak up on him when he was distracted. The elf appeared unhurt, and his narrow face was devoid of emotion, but his movements had lost some of their grace to weariness. Beren had caught glimpses of him during the battle; Almwë had been everywhere, a deadly whirlwind that swept through Nogrod’s forces and prevented as many as possible from reaching his people, most of whom bore no weapons other than bows and arrows.

Seeing Beren grimace at his suggestion, Almwë said, “Give it to Lúthien, if you wish. It may be of some comfort to her, though I am sure nothing will please her more than your safe return, and the boy’s.”

“What should we do with the rest of it?” Beren asked, indicating the spoils taken from Doriath that now lay in the dirt and blood among the bodies.

Almwë shrugged, disinterested. “It is cursed. Drown it in the river.”

Beren nodded, suddenly feeling very tired. Though he could not match Almwë’s ferocious pace, he had fought as hard as the elf in the heat of battle, never faltering until all of their enemies had fled or fallen. But now that the anger and desperation had faded, it was catching up to him. I’m not as young as I used to be, he thought, then laughed softly to himself when he remembered how many times he’d heard his grandfather or Aunt Andreth or Uncle Bregolas say those exact words.  

Almwë gave him a strange look, but said nothing.

one of my favorite things to think about is the relationship between Lupa and Jason. Mostly the idea of Jason being one of Lupa’s favorite pups since Romulus. 

  • He was probably the youngest camper she had to take care of in quite some time so I like to think she got rather attached, though she would never admit it or show it openly (or at least in a way that humans would consider open affection, all the other wolves know whats up) 
  • and she’s most likely the only mother figure Jason has any memory of and I love that. I love the idea that as much as Jason has strayed from being a child of Rome, that’s who he is at his core 
  • Lupa as this ancient being who due to her nature rarely gets attached but then here comes this little boy and he’s strong stronger than she’s seen in centuries and she can feel it as soon as he is in her presence
  • His blue eyes shine up at her with fear but also wonder because sure he’s seen dogs but this is…. a very big dog 
  • the first few weeks are rough– He scampers off every chance he gets, cries out frequently for people who couldn’t find him if they tried
  • Lupa is patient, and she chases him down when he strays too far, lets him cry into her fur, wraps around him extra tight on nights when the tears won’t stop. 
  • she loves her pup, the first she’s personally cared for in longer than she can remember. But a son of Jupiter demands the best, and the best is what she is. 
  • The day he is ready to go off to Camp is a sad one for Lupa, but she knows more than anyone the price of keeping a pack strong. She hopes Jason will understand some day too. 
2

You can’t rush art

5

I drew these before the final season started airing… Don’t know if I will find the time/energy to finish them before it wraps up and destroys me, so here are a bunch of rough Black Sails doodles! Man, I will miss this show…!

I compulsively started a new fic in which Jeremy Heere is scared of girls and I haven’t had this much fun in months, so here’s a snippet for everybody while I’m happy.

Jenna pats his hand. “It’s because you’re cute. You have a distinct vibe. Like a hamster.”

“Like a what, now.”

“Like a prey animal,” she clarifies. “Totally easy kill for a girl who knows what she wants.” She pauses. “Or a boy.”

“Oh my god,” Jeremy wheezes.

“Michael was worried during physics class. He probably thought she’d eaten you up during sex like some grotesque praying mantis deal.” Jenna takes a bite of her corndog. “You should reassure him that your chastity and head are still intact.”

  • Gavin: Thanks, Dad.
  • The Crew: ...
  • Gavin: Why is everyone staring at me?
  • Jack: You just called Geoff Dad. You just said 'thanks, Dad.'
  • Gavin: What? No I didn't. I said 'thanks, man.'
  • Geoff: Do you see me as a father figure, Gavin?
  • Gavin: No, if anything I see you as a bother figure, 'cause you're always bothering me.
  • Ryan: Hey, show your father some respect!