I admittedly had larger plans for a big trt cake for its birthday but with my recent heart issues, that wasn't possible. BUT I STILL GOT ME SOME CAKE AND A CANDLE.

Happy 6th birthday, TRT! 🥳

me? watching dhmis for the 'nth time? its more likely than you think

Tasmania, 2023

opus.colors is a “thinly veiled” bl in the way a couch with a napkin on it is a thinly veiled couch

I just played a two hour long game of cards against humanity with my family and I won but at what cost

never let anyone tell you that trawling through mediocre victorian poetry isn't worth it. we just happened upon an absolute BANGER of a worm poem. go read it or else 🪱🪱🪱

DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON OLD FICS DONT BE AFRAID TO COMMENT ON FICS IN A FANDOM THE AUTHOR MAY NO LONGER BE ACTIVE IN. IF THE STORY IS STILL UP LET THEM KNOW YOUR THOUGHTS IT MIGHT JUST BE THE REMINDER THAT MAKES THEIR DAY.

SINCERELY SOMEONE WHO JUST GOT A REPLY THAT MADE ME WANNA MAKE THIS POST

I love dragon btw

AITA for lying to my dog about food being 'spicy?'

A while back I taught my dog what spicy foods are (by letting her sniff them and saying "Uh oh! Spicy!") and she figured out that it means it'll smell/taste bad and she immediately loses interest. It was initially an accident but it became really handy in getting her to leave food alone if it might hurt her.

Recently though I've started saying "Uh oh! Spicy!" about any food I don't want her to eat. If she's sitting and staring at me eating a regular non-spicy snack and I don't want to share, I'll tell her it's spicy so she'll stop begging for it. She believes me 100% of the time. She does have a 'leave it' command that she obeys as well, but she always acts so sad whenever I tell her to 'leave it' and it's something she wants.

I feel a little bad because she's an older dog (10y/o) and maybe I SHOULD be sharing my snacks with her, but sometimes a man's gotta enjoy his food in peace without a little creature gazing longingly at him the entire time and crying like the world's soggiest beast.

Included is a picture of her making her very best begging face so that everyone can accurately judge how evil I am for lying to her.

What are these acronyms?

just had SO much fun with the fallout tv show... i love you missus okey dokey

"i've just been working on a... celebrity impression. it's for a sting operation of sorts i've been putting together. yes as a matter of fact it WILL keep me busy tonight—"

That cursed cat Alastor thing going around is too good, it has me posting messy meme pseudoWIPs like I’m not a chronic perfectionist

Anyway, I’m desperate to know if cursed cat Alastor still owns Husk’s soul and if so, how he holds his cane? A close second was gonna be the microphone dangling from around his neck like a cowbell, but readable silhouettes won out

Why does basil smell so fucking amazing

The highlights of the movie (for me lol)

virgin sacrifice reader offered to war god ghost?? prepare to be his lovely wife instead of a sacrifice with at least 10 demigods running around, he wants to raise strong warriors!

Ghost would definitely be a god similiar to Ares; a god of war, brutality, bloodshed, masculinity and virility. Men go and pray by his shrine or in his dedicated temple to give them strength in both battle and bed, to be a strong and unbeatable warrior and be able to father strong, healthy children.

One such temple, the main one, is in a surprisingly remote location, surrounded not by a major city or capital but a few villages. According to myths it was this place where a brutal battle took place millenia ago where the fearsome god Ghost defeated an army all by himself, the blood of his slain enemies served to make the land fertile and for many villages to grow and prosper...until now.

Usually sacrifaces to appease the god would be made by the men of the villages; black stallions, the strongest bulls, wine, silver and pure steel, everything that has connections to masculinity and power, however some kind of horrible fatum seems to hang over your little village. The animals either die young or are sickly and weak, the wine turns out sour like vinegar, there in so money to buy anything either and it's taken as a curse by the elders. If nothing will be done and Ghost won't have his sacrifice who knows what will happen?

So they decide on the next best thing, a desperate last choice reach in hopes to appease the brutal god-a virgin sacrifice. The prettiest, unmarried and untouched young woman is to be chosen, dressed in the finest, gauzy silks and locked inside the stone temple in hopes that the god will come down and the blood of a slain virgin will calm his fury. Luck wasn't on your side it seems, you were chosen.

All you could remember were the desperate cries of your mother, the dissapointed remorseful look on your father's face and the ritual cleansing of the old crones in the village. You were cleaned in rose water, intricate patterns were drawn with a mixture of honey, mushed up berries and flowers on your breasts, around your nipples and bellybutton, and the most intricate was drawn on the place where your womb was. You were clothed in a white gauzy dress that was a symbol of your purity and then you were bound and dragged to the temple no matter how much you struggled and kicked and pleaded until you were finally locked in the dimly lit temple, only the many candles present to lighten the main chamber and to show the powerful, majestic sculpture of the god, Ghost.

Imagine crying yourself to sleep, everything hurt, you were scared and confused, all alone to die in this forsaken temple because some old men decided on it. Falling asleep out of exhaustion, the images of your crying, terrified mother haunting you even when sleeping.

Imagine waking up and instead of feeling cold and sore from sleeping on the unforgiving stone floor, and instead finding yourself laying on and under the most luxurious furs you've ever seen, the warmth of them felt like a blanket and the smell of them, pleasant warm masculine musk made a shiver run down your spine, just where were you?

Before you had the chance of looking around the room, you felt huge, strong arms clamping togehter around you and bringing you into a powerful, broad chest which rumbled with a growl like purr and a stern voice saying:

"Stay. Don't move around girl."

And the very same arms turned you gently around to face the man behind you and you couldn't help but gasp and breath out a tiny, frightened yelp-behind you was laying a man who looked like the stone sculpture of Ghost cane to life and became human. It...it was Ghost. You laid next to a god.

[images ID: three images of a comic titled "one must imagine sisyphus happy" by druid-for-hire. it is a visual narrative beginning with someone with wrist pain (depicted by bright orange nerves) working at a drafting table. the reader is shown the same wrist as the person uses it for many everyday tasks such as carrying a grocery basket, pushing elevator buttons, typing, and doing dishes, until the pain dissolves all the panels into chaos. the person then performs several physical therapy exercises until the pain subsides. they sit back down at a desk with their laptop, sigh, and begin typing. a small spark of pain reappears. end id]

a fun little piece i made during the semester and submitted into our school comic anthology! (which you can buy at the Static Fish table at MoCCAFest in NYC ;] ). it's about artists and injury