im really conflicted with lorelai because on one hand, she raised her daughter by herself after becoming a teen mom and basically got her life together on her own. on the other hand, she’s not a great parent- i hate to say it but if lorelai fed her daughter junk food and was flaky as a mom, but great as a best friend, most people around her in the real world would question her parenting style. i get that her relationship with her parents is unstable due to lasting traumas but the way she treats her parents even after they paid for rory’s school irks me. she didn’t treat max right, she wasn’t always great to sookie, and it’s just a multitude of things that make me appreciate her, but not like her.

hmm… i can see this, but i feel like lorelai gets demonized for a lot of normal, little mistakes that most parents and people in general make. coming from someone who wishes that they had a lorelai for a mom, i’m more willing to look past the tiny infractions. the junk food thing is purely for comedic effect so i really don’t take it into consideration when i judge lorelai’s parenting skills (plus we see fruits and vegetables in their fridge on multiple occasions, and while lor and rory often go out to eat, rory could easily order like, a salad from luke’s if she wanted. he’d be happy to make that for her, meaning she does have access to healthy foods, not to mention her chilton lunch meals are definitely nutritionally balanced). anyway, i wouldn’t call lorelai a flaky mom at all. in fact i’d say she’s almost overly invested in rory’s life: she always wants to know what’s going on, she goes out of her way to make sure rory has what she needs, and she’s constantly trying to maintain an open line of communication with her daughter. while she doesn’t always go about this the right way, it’s her intentions that really matter—she wants rory to know she can come to her, that she can trust her. she makes rory dresses from scratch and fills their house with books and music and goes to business school so she can make a better life for them. she puts aside her pride to ensure that rory’ll have the best education possible. yeah, she can be selfish and immature at times, and she screws up, but so does everyone and that’s literally the point of the show: all the characters on gg are meant to be realistic, they’re meant to frustrate the audience at times and piss people off, because that’s just human nature. no one can be perfect, but lorelai is definitely a really great mom. she just has deep-seated issues when it comes to things like boys and intimacy and secret keeping, which given her upbringing is kind of hard to put her down for (though it does drive me crazy at times). anyway yeah, idk, my point is that of course she can’t be perfect but compared to a lot of moms (both in fiction and irl) she does pretty damn well.

top 10 worst divorced couples ever

KAEYA BIRTHDAY ??? ?? i love you mr alberich sir i love you oh so so so much.

uh dialogue for this one but more legible under the cut (and a messy ragbros page)

Klee: Kaeya! Come down here! Kaeya: Oh? heh. What is it, Spark Knight?

Klee: Happy Birthday! It is today? Right? I even double-checked with Albedo and everything but I don't know... Klee: It's a Calla Lily! You like those, right? Kaeya: I certainly do! Thank y- Klee: Oh. Klee: OK OK OK- Kaeya: Hm? Klee: Kaeya you have to promise to not tell Master Jean about this one! Kaeya: You can count on me to keep my lips sealed.

Klee: OK! Close your eyes- eye- and hold out your hands! Kaeya: Mhm! Klee: OK! You can open them! TA-DA~!

Klee: I made a bomb for you! It even has an eyepatch! He can look after you when I'm somewhere else. Take good care of him! Oh yeah- He explodes if you- Kaeya?

Kaeya: Thank you Klee! Thank you very much! Klee: You're VERY welcome Kaeya!

a lil ragbros too.... kaeya and his red siblings amirite (bursts into tears).. also i am so obsessed with chibi diluc saying "bring em in..."

listen if the existence of the book means there are an infinite number of realities then there’s at least one where fukuzawa took in the both of them and the ada was born on two pillars instead of just one

(pls do not tag as beast)

We better get a much needed morales family hug at the end of the next movie OR ELSE (btw read this fic. bless)

Bonus messy doodle below but it’s got major spider verse spoilers!‼️‼️‼️

Earth 42 miles better get a hug and a kiss from his mom too

I love your take on Crowley!

I know that the early, non-Diasomnia stories aren't really your thing, but are you reading the novels at all?

I have been following some of the fan translations and the second book seems intense! Would love to hear what you think about them.

thank you! 💚💚💚 I'm not really sure why you think I don't like the earlier arcs though, I love pretty much all the characters and their storis! (I think 5 and 1 are my favorite of the past episodes, though 6 infected me with the Shroud brainrot something fierce.) I just...ESPECIALLY love diasomnia. :') but there is room in my heart for all of these dweebs! like, who among us is not just as ride-or-die for Adeuce as they are for us.

that said, I don't really follow the other adaptations like the manga (aside from a dip-in just to see the new Yuus) or the novels, though I keep meaning to check them out! I do like seeing the differences between the different forms of media, and how certain things get adapted one way or another! but alas, time/a lack of accessibility stands in our way more often than not. :( someday...someday I will have time to consume all of the media...

Alternative universe where Luke and Reggie share the best werewolf vampire solidarity 🤝

i feel passionately about the need to enfold people experiencing (or diagnosed) with "just" depression or anxiety into the mad pride project. the more people who view themselves as mad, the better. much as the rhetorical move from "neurotypical" to "neuroconforming" emphasizes the artifice & social construction of "neurotypicality," so too will expanding identification as "mad" expose the sane/mad dichotomy as a false one.

it's true that (some) people with "just" depression and/or anxiety have an easier time navigating the psych system than people who have more stigmatized diagnoses. but this is not to say that they necessarily have an easy time — the carceral psych system is hostile to everyone subsumed by it, even the most "privileged" patients. we should of course critique & examine how our experiences are shaped by various intersections of privilege, but we cannot forget or ignore how someone with "just" a depression/anxiety diagnosis can still experience the full force of the carceral psych system brought down upon them (including but not limited to involuntary institutionalization, police intervention, & forced medication or other forced treatment).

we must encourage, if not insist, that those with the least-stigmatized diagnoses view their difficult experiences navigating the psych system as bound up with the liberation of people who have more stigmatized diagnoses &, often, a more violent experience of the psych system. we need more people to drop the "i have anxiety/depression but i'm not crazy" line and say loudly, "i have anxiety/depression & i am crazy. my access to just treatment is linked to the conditions of all other crazy people, who are my allies, peers, & friends. we are united in our cause & we all deserve a more liberating system of care."

watching xianxia is so fun because usually when i'm halfway through a drama and i want to reblog things, i have to be really careful when going through the tag and not look too closely at anything to try not to accidentally spoil stuff that happens later

but when i watch a xianxia drama and go through the tag i'm totally fine even if i look at everything because absolutely none of it makes any goddamn sense out of context. like i find gifsets of the main characters getting married. in one they're getting married to other people and in another they're getting married to each other. twice. then i find gifsets of those same characters dying in five different ways. in one scene one is dying in the other’s arms. in the next scene they’re dying together. someone straight up disintegrates into glitter. and i still have no idea if any of them end up alive or dead or married or alone or what on earth happens at the end

Hello may 31th anon! Look at that, another year behind us and a new one to come. Have a nice day! ₍՞◌′ᵕ‵ू◌₎♡

There’s something really fascinating about the different ways in which the Hungry One is understood and conceptualized in Calorum.  In the Bulbosi Church, it’s characterized as an apocalyptic Satan-figure, the cause of suffering in the world and the thing that will one day come to devour everything just because that’s what it does.  Where things really get interesting is in the different sects within and around the Church.  Adherants of the Ramsian Doctrine, for example, believe that it is necessary for the Hungry One to devour the world so that the Bulb can triumph over it - and they believe that the Hungry One will not devour the world so long as it contains “junk food.”  In a similar manner, the Prophidian Heresy and the FDA believe that the Hungry One will not devour the world if it is full of waste -only the FDA consider waste to be general rot and decay rather than the Candians specifically, misanthropy vs xenophobia GO- and that this is therefore the key to preventing the destruction of the world. 

Within the FDA and the Prophidian Heresy, there’s also an intriguing link between body and soul that contradicts mainstream Bulb theology.  Whereas most of the Church believes in a rigid delineation between body and soul, that after death, the body returns to the ground and the soul (if it is not damned) goes to the Bulb, the FDA’s plan of filling the world with rot and decay so that the Hungry One will not devour it suggests, quite radically, that the body just as much if not more so than the soul is what the Hungry One devours.  Mainstream Bulbians believe the stomach of the Hungry One is Hell for damned souls who do not go to the Bulb - the FDA seems to believe that the state of the material is just as important to the Hungry One as the metaphysical and that large enough volumes of rotting decay (which could also be the moral decay that comes with actions in war, but in this case the FDA themselves have the most rotten souls of all) can keep this Devil-figure from consuming anything, regardless of the state of the soul.

On a different level, with Karna, we find the idea that the Hungry One is not just a powerful over-arching entity but rather something which people can relate to and personally interact with.  When Karna kills Sir Drunon and the woman, she takes part of their bodies and burns them “in offering” to the Hungry One.  As the audience, we know that Karna is mechanically a warlock of the Hungry One, with the specific subclass of The Great Old One.  Combined with the offering, the characterization of the Hungry One is as an active, powerful being who, to some degree, can engage with people personally.  Not necessarily in a reciprocal way -you can burn an offering as a sign of respect or acknowledgement without any expectation of receiving something in return- but people like Karna can and do engage with it on an individual and personal level.  Given the fact that when she kills, a new rotten spot appears on her body, it suggests that her relationship to the Hungry One does, in some part, go both ways, that there is something on the other side receiving her votives and responding to them.

Also fascinating to observe, when she kills Sir Drunon, she says “We are all eventual food in the maw of the Hungry One,” and immediately thereafter as she kills the woman he’s with, “I’m sorry, but we are all eventual waste.”  This presents another perspective on the relationship between the Hungry One and the concept of waste. In contrast to the FDA or the Ramsian Doctrine, which believe that the Hungry One won’t devour the world if it is full of waste or junk, Karna’s statements suggest that the process of dying inherently involves becoming waste - and that the Hungry One will still eat that waste nonetheless. 

Then there’s Cumulous and his specific monastic tradition (which is not actually one and the same as the Order of the Spinning Star because it’s stated that there are monks in the Order who draw power from the Bulb; overall, the Order seems to be more an organization of people dedicated to the same goal rather than a religious enclave of people with the same spiritual beliefs).  In ACOC, the first thing Cumulous ever says is, “The Hungry One must feed.”  It’s an interesting phrasing because there’s a very passive connotation - not “The Hungry One must consume” or “The Hungry One must eat,” but rather the use of the term “feed” suggests a little less agency and purpose.  It isn’t going out looking for something to eat, but rather it is feeding on whatever it is given.

Later, Cumulous explains to the party that he does not worship the Hungry One and that it is just a source of power to him.  He can tap into it, just like the Bulbosi miracle workers can tap into the Bulb, but it’s not something that has a real consciousness or its own will and he does not interact with it as if it does.  Combined with his monk subclass (Long Death), the characterization of the Hungry One is less a supernatural powerful figure but more a manifestation of inevitable death and entropy.  Very similarly to Karna’s perspective, it’s going to feed on everything eventually because everyone’s going to die one day.  It might be today, if you happen to be a cheese sailor trying to murder your lawful child duchess, but that’s neither here nor there.

And as Lapin realized in his last moments and as he later showed to Liam, this seems to be the closest understanding to the actual nature of the Hungry One which we have encountered so far in either campaign.  The Hungry One is just a cosmological ball (add that to the list of significant TTRPG orbs!) and while it certainly contains a lot of power, it doesn’t do anything with it other than eat what is delivered into its mouth.  The power and the destruction and the death associated with the Hungry One?  All of that has only been wielded or used by living people, for their own aims and agendas.

Anyways, all this to say that while I don’t think it likely to happen, my dream scenario is for a couple FDA members to flee the scene of whatever plan they had that some or all of the Scrumptious Scoundrels have managed to foil, and as they escape, they run straight into a group of Candian monks (aka what they were actually doing during the Ravening War).  The last thing they hear, after all their scheming to “save” the world, is “The Hungry One must feed.”  And it does.

what is childe doing in bungou gay dogs😟

https://twitter.com/spiderdrm/status/1737302308437057734?t=nMc320MMY2zVgDwbwvTAtQ&s=19 i just think the drxcq friendship is the best thing thats ever happened to me. mr juicer man is so funny and such a good sport about all this

this is fucking awesom

ONE OF YOUR GIRLS

Warnings/ Notes Suguru Geto x afab reader. 18+ CONTENT MINORS DNI. Lots of choking, fingering, undertones of degradation, unestablished relationship, porn without plot, mentions of guilt tripping, power imbalance. Let me know if I missed anything!! Please don't report my work. If you would rather not read, then just don't!! Reblogs appreciated! Synopsis You have a massive thing for Suguru's arms, so he chokes you with them...upon your request.

NSFW under the cut

Suguru is mean, sure, but don't you get the wrong idea, because he swears up and down it's your fault every single time. How glassy tears cascade down your face so damn cutely, pretty neck bruises up in his grip so gorgeously, and if the only way he can get to see you that fucked out and vulnerable before his eyes is to treat you like a bitch, he'd do it over and over again with not an ounce of remorse.

He sits you on his lap, back pressed against his taut chest while you pointlessly babble and squirm from dizzying overstimulation, your thighs involuntarily caging his wrist between them as they close in on themselves. But d'you forget already? Suguru's not much of a gracious man, there's no other way to put it really, and you'd be dumb to ever think otherwise, because just as your bottom lip juts out in desperation, a broken "S'too much, Sugu" leaving your parted mouth, your tears threatening to spill past your lashes, he grins sleazily, and you've seen that grin a handful; The embodiment of the power trip he basks in whenever you're around. Got you wrapped around his finger and he knows. Got you under control. "Stay still, pretty." He whispers against your crimson-blooming neck and it almost sounds tender, but the validity of such wishful thought is quickly thrown aside when he forcefully spreads your legs open once more, a thumb playing with your clit, deftly curled fingers scissoring and pistoning into your soaking cunt.

Suguru's eyes never leave your pretty reflection adorning the full length mirror across the two of you, raking you up and down with not a slither of shame, because surely you were used to it by now, weren't you? All his to devour whenever he pleased, the one girl he'd always find his way back to when his patience threatened to wane, whose apartment he'd drag his feet into, head hanging low in tribulation waiting for you to save him in the one way you knew best, to melt away all that weighed heavily on his heart like the good girl you always were. And just as you trail your gaze upward, you find yourself shrinking back in embarrassment from his brazen stare, burying your face in your shoulder when his piercing eyes meet your own through the looking glass, but nothing's ever easy when Suguru is around, is it? Ever so perceptive, he doesn't hesitate to grab your cheeks between his thumb and index, harshly yanking your face back up to meet his gaze with a chastising "tsk". "I like seeing you like this y'know." He breathes out, gruff voice sending jolts up your spine as he languidly strokes your jaw with the pad of his thumb. "D'you like it too, hm? Look at your face, baby. Up there." He animatedly points toward the mirror as though speaking to a child, infantilizing you as he so often does. "That's it, dont be shy." The soft, honeyed timbre of his voice confuses you, the entirety of his persona rendering him a walking oxymoron; So charming yet so crude; So tender yet so rough; So playful yet so stern. Despite all of it, you never question it when he babies you right after degrading the living shit out of you, a welcome surprise of sorts that leaves you giddy for the rest of the night.

Though the babying does not last long, the man under you swiftly moving his hand away from your face and roughly hooking an arm around your neck with a click of his tongue, your chin snuggly tucked under the bend of his arm, bicep pressing against your cheek. A favorable position you supposed, maybe more so for him than you, because when he feels the hot pulse of your neck against him, something momentarily flashes in his eyes and he grins wide. "Mm, can't handle it all, Sugu pleaseee." You turn and whine into the crook of his neck, straining to speak as much as you were to move your head. His thick arm had an impossibly tight hold around your throat rendering you as good as paralyzed. Though you'd lately devised a clever plot of sorts; Guilt tripping him with that ever so sweet lilt of your voice, those tears spilling past your fluttery eyes, because at the end of the day, you realized, you had him as wrapped around your finger as he did, even if you knew hell might as well freeze over before he admitted such—in his own words—nonsense. But sometimes your clever plot works, sometimes it doesn't.

Depending on his mood.

The heavens must not be on your side lately, because tonight it did not, and he clicks his tongue at your dramatics, eyebrows furrowed and clearly unamused by your apparent change of heart. "But you asked for it, didn't you?" He lets out a chiding huff and asks, not really expecting an answer, just your sweet surrender. In a sense, he was right; As comical as it may sound, you had watched him unload his groceries earlier that morning and couldn't help but lock your gaze upon his arms. The way his biceps flexed every time he effortlessly tugged a heavy bag out of the trunk, or the visible recoil of those same biceps when he put the bags down, or the pretty dents and veins blooming along his well-built forearms when the sunlight hit just right. Not even the most strong-willed woman on earth would have been able to get her mind out of the gutter under such extreme circumstances, or so you liked to think. In short, you had shamelessly asked him to choke you with his arms.

And who was he to deny his pretty girl's request? He was never stingy with the pleasure he gave you, especially when it's one you proactively asked for, with those wet lashes fluttering up at him as you request a million ways of him to ruin you. As if on cue, just as you attempt to let out a half-muttered response to his earlier question, his arm presses harder against your throat and shuts you up for good—before you could even speak, as if to taunt you, goad you into a state of frustration simply because he liked to push your buttons like that. He continues to work your cunt as his free arm rhythmically squeezes and releases around your throat, your vision going blurry, eyes slipping closed as you helplessly claw at his bicep to let you breathe. Though your ministrations felt like nothing but a feather light touch to the strong man handling your form.

"Ahh! Cute" Suguru positively coos, giggling at your struggle, seemingly finding it amusing, or perhaps relishing in your messed up state like the sadistic bastard he was. "Sugu, hhmmgh" you let out a shrill whimper, if you could call it that, torn between the pain engulfing your neck and the pleasure prodding at your cunt. Suguru examines you closely through the mirror and his giggles die in his throat as fast as they came when he zeros in on your weary expression, much to your confusion. His face falls into a frown. Wasn't he all giddy and jovial just now? He nudges your cheek before trailing his eyes up toward your reflection once more.

"Why're you so quiet all of a sudden, baby? Am I not doing a good job?" He asks with feigned hurt etched into his sharp features, voice laced with faux offense. You catch his pout in the mirror and scramble to tell him that wasn't it at all. Was he serious? You're practically choking in his grasp and he has the nerve to spew such absurdities. You were in fact enjoying this more than you'd like to admit but you couldn't speak. and he knew this. Of course he did, because actions sure spoke louder than words; He could see your eyes flutter shut in pleasure, your warm arousal trickle down his wrist every time he squeezed harder, harder around your neck.

You opt for aggressively shaking your head to the best of your ability within the tight confines of his hold. "Yes or no?" He banters, clearly teasing, and you can hear the smirk in his voice, struggling to hold back his amusement at your newfound muteness. "Y-you're doing well." You choke out finally. "Ah! See? That was easy." He doesn't give you time to retort, picking up the pace of his fingers, scissoring them rhythmically as his thumb abuses rough circles onto your wet clit. "Now give me what I want." He groans against your face, breath fanning against your ear, tongue running sloppy trails down your jaw, and all the simultaneous sensations he was giving you were mind-numbingly overwhelming. With just another jerk of his fingers within you, clit rubbing against his palm, you find yourself falling boneless in his arms, unraveling right before his sharp eyes as they so intently watch your face contort in pleasure through the mirror.

"Mmph fuck!" You gasp in your stupor, gripping the wrist of his hand that was still diligently fucking you through your high, spasming and thrashing in his embrace, your free hand winding around his bicep that engulfed your neck, squeezing and clawing like a bitch in heat.

"That's it, I got you babe." Suguru soothes you softly, tone so different, so tender, bringing his long fingers up to your mouth and tapping them on your lips once you regain your composure, a sheen of sweat coating your forehead and chest still heaving sporadically. You know what he wants you to do, and you obediently wrap your lips around them, tasting yourself on him. "Mhm, just like that" He hums with a lazy smile, and you bury your face in the crook of his neck, half-grin gracing your lips in a sudden fit of post-sex giddiness, but just as you begin to shuffle out of his lap, you halt in your steps, him grabbing you back down by the hips, lips brushing against your earlobe. "Oh 'm not done with you just yet."

Right. When is he ever?

So you guys have just been coping with this since 2019. Okay.

bitter tea 🍵