Tumgik
#if there's typos in this oh well
entomjinx · 1 year
Text
Hello!
Before you continue: Eat something, drink something, take your meds, and get some rest if you haven't. This blog will still exist tomorrow. <3
I don't think I ever had a proper pinned post for this blog, so I'm doing that now! (Last updated: 9/23/2023)
My name is Jinx, and I use all pronouns. You may perceive me however you see fit to, and it is impossible for you to be incorrect.
This blog is for my orginal content. I do not reblog things here unless I am adding to it, or doing an ask game of some sort. The blog where I reblog literally everything and anything I see is @jinx13gxa2 . Follow that one at your own risk, because there is so much spam.
My ask box is always open, and anons stay on. I'm to anxious to leave asks on people's pages 99% of the time so I want to keep that curtesy extended for others like me. I'm a loser with too much going on in my head and I'd love to talk with you! Honestly, I'm probably as anxious about answering you as you are about sending something!
This links you too all of my socials.
I mostly write fics on Ao3, but I occasionally post doodles and such here too. I love to do headcanon lists, but I haven't made any in a long time.
Fandoms I currently create content for:
Fairy Tail (Link to the post about the LGBTQIA+ friendly server that I help run (still semi-active: 2/28/23)) (I don't currently plan on coming back.)
One Piece (Main Fandom as of 2023)
Fandoms I previously created content for, but likely will never return to:
Edens Zero (No new posts.)
I would like to keep this blog as discourse free as possible, as every time I've been thrown into it, I've been harassed, told to kill myself, and in two cases, doxxed. Some of that harassment still continues to this day, and I regularly have to delete anon asks with disturbing content. I will block drama causers without response, as I no longer feel the need to try and back sass you to "one up" you like I did as a teenager. I'm 22, I've grown passed that, and I'm tired. We can coexist quietly and amicably or we can block one another and move on.
Below this is the context of the previous discourse I was involved in, because I'd rather be transparent for anyone just showing up. Warning: It's not as short as I'd like. (TWs: mentions of stalking, harassment, death threats, and suicide baiting)
I will not be deleting any old discourse. It is something I was involved in regardless of how much I wish I wasn't, so I refuse to just erase it despite my personal growth. Everyone may do stupid shit as a teen, however, that will not stop me from holding myself to a higher standard explicitly because it's me. 2019-2020 ish is where the last of the public responses end, I believe.
When I first joined the Fairy Tail fandom, I had a real life stalker, who used the ship Gray/Juvia (and many others) as an example of why I would have to fall in love with him eventually. I was fourteen. This fucked me up beyond belief.
Because of that whole fiasko, I politely asked shippers of the ship and people who really loved Juvia's character to DNI. I wanted nothing to do with it because it brought up all of that trauma and fear. I immediatly began recieving harassment and I was being told that the only reason I didn't like them was because I shipped queer ships in the fandom and thought Juvia was "in the way." The latter didn't bother me much, but the mass amounts of messages telling me to kill myself was incredibly straining.
I fully acknowledge that none of the following was the correct way to go about things, even if it was much better than the alternatives(ex: harassing back).
So I started putting out little anlyses showing the toxicity of the relationship and Juvia's various mental health issues that are never dealt with in the series, and I've even written fics about it. The harassment only grew worse.
I couldn't---and still really don't---understand why people would seek out people who don't like what they do just to harass them, and vice versa. That's why I and a few others who didn't enjoy the ship created a vent blog to keep all of the dislike for the ship contained, and even encouraged shippers to block us, which unfortunately, did not work. We wanted it to stay away from anyone who didn't want to see it, but to be there for those who needed that space to vent about it without it being traced back to their blogs where they could be harassed and sent death threats for disliking something. (This blog is no longer used by anyone. it's been fully shut down, as it should have never existed at all.)
It backfired greatly, and even now I get 15-20 anon asks a week telling me how I should end my life. Sometimes they spike up randomly into 100 a week for shits and giggles.
Because of the way that the harassers treated my friends and I, I believed fiction affected reality on a 1:1 ratio for a long time, which it doesn't. I thought the whole "Anti vs proshipping" discourse was a firm stance on your morals because no one corrected me, yet I was being harrassed by both, which is what forced me to come to terms with the fact that I was being played like a fiddle for a fool.
The entire thing was incredibly immature and ridiculous. Fiction does not affect reality on a 1:1 scale, and it's better for dark topics to be explored in fiction than in real life. That doesn't mean I should have been harassed for not wanting to interact with a certain aspect of it, but that also means I should have just blocked people who were harassing me instead of giving them the angry responses they wanted.
I will fully admit to many of my responses being made out of anger, fear and with more generalizations than they should have been because of the above. Those people were also harassing my friends and I, so I do not feel remorse for being unkind, only for being unfair with my comparisons of fiction to reality.
I have never told anyone to kill themselves, that they should be caught in an accident, or harassesed anyone. I hate the way it feels to be told those things, and I wouldn't wish it on my worst enemies nor the people who harassed me.
Should you scroll down into my blog, you may encounter some of this very angry discourse, and you will, due tumblr showing you the most recent posts first, encounter some of the final, angriest pieces of that discourse without the context for any of it. So here's your context, make of it what you will, and I can only hope that you don't judge me solely on 14-18 year old me's poor descisions and reactions.
6 notes · View notes
arcanegifs · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
ARCANE: BRIDGING THE RIFT Part 2 - "Persistence (Or When Your Best Still Sucks)" ↳ "You're, like, always trying to get into the heads of the characters in any way you can. "
1K notes · View notes
octor4t · 8 months
Text
silly little sketch
Tumblr media
silly little sketch
2K notes · View notes
handsomegentlebutch · 2 years
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
I saw some dumb shit on reddit and after being down voted to all hell made some memes to express myself
9K notes · View notes
gertritude-art · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
many such cases
562 notes · View notes
evilwizard · 9 months
Text
me (just got punched in the lip): they them! they them all!
my minions: yes, your evilness. excellent pronouns
captured heroes: can we go
1K notes · View notes
vampireharpy · 4 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
The ocean chose me. I don't know why.
324 notes · View notes
u3pxx · 4 months
Text
Tumblr media
INLAND EMPIRE [Easy: Success] - Abort! You clearly have not thought this through. You won't like what you will see there -- and you will never *un-become* it.
watching an lp where they didn't continue to look in the mirror, so just brain-empty playing around with that idea
357 notes · View notes
willowser · 7 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
you had only to look at me—
part two.
Tumblr media
bakugou x f!reader
wc: 3.3k+
tags: nsfw (18+), childhood best friend bakugou, dry humping, implied virgin bakugou, a tad angsty at the end.
Tumblr media
even before i was touched, i belonged to you; you had only to look at me. — the burning heart, louise glück.
this is a repost.
Tumblr media
childhood best friend bakugou is probably a wrestler. a lil' rough-houser.
games of tag end with you tackled to the ground, squashed underneath him until you finally agree that he's the king of the world. whenever your hair is long enough to pull back into a pony-tail or little bun, he's yanking on it to get your attention, harsh, especially if you're ignoring him to talk to anyone else. scraped knees and bruised elbows, coming home missing a single shoe, shirt stretched out and wrinkled at the bottom corner: all katsuki's fault.
it makes you a little volatile, too, in turn.
not so much as him, but you grow up defending yourself; the first black eye he gets is from you (if you don't count the time he hit himself in the face by accident, when you'd started a slap-fight because he was trying to hold you down) and you very quickly learn how "unfair" it (apparently) is to kick him in the groin. your parents spend a lot of time separating you, putting you in opposite corners of the room until one of you stops crying and the other is ready to mumble out an apology. you're not allowed to sit next to each other at holiday events. whatsoever. under any circumstances.
he's your best friend. you wouldn't have it any other way.
in middle school, he's just as insufferable, hardly allows you to talk to any of your girl friends without butting in some how, too loud for anyone's own good. he tries to embarrass you in front of other boys, puts you in a headlock even when he's sweaty — which he is a lot at that point, during puberty — and calls you names that make you want to hide in the bathroom.
("why is he such a jerk?" your friends will ask, trying to fix the mess of your hair during lunch. all your butterfly clips are either missing or broken, crunched under bakugou's scrawny arm. "you should tell on him for being such a bully.")
nobody else treats you the way he does, and you don't treat anyone else that way, either; you never make ugly faces at your girl group, never punch them as hard as you can in the arm, aiming to leave a bruise. with all other classmates, you're — normal, trying to discover what that even means in the grand scope of things, who you want to be as the years pass. you avoid bakugou and his little posse of brats like the plague, because detention is what awaits both of you, should your paths ever cross.
things start to change, seriously, in high-school.
Tumblr media
bakugou goes to u.a and you — don't; instead you continue on to the shizuoka high-school without him, along with your group of girls. his time at home and in the neighborhood lessens, even moreso when he moves into the dorms on campus, and the only time you see him becomes those few and far in-between family visits he has time to make; some holidays, he doesn't come home at all.
at first you think it's a good thing, because you've never gotten to flourish while trapped in his armpit. yanking at his hair until he finally lets go in the middle of the hallway has always garnered you some weird looks, odd stares, and you finally stop being labeled aggressive, too, with him gone. boys can talk to you without being stalked by your angry, wiry, chihuahua of a best friend, and you go on dates, ride in cars, have your first kiss.
you miss him from time to time, though you'll die before admitting it, and the yearning doesn't last long whenever he does come home. even when you're seventeen, eighteen, he still lays on the couch and puts his stinky feet in your lap and in your face, purposely puts things too high up on your shelves, leans against the front door so you can't get out when it's time to leave.
(he becomes an immovable object, much to your annoyance; in the past, you've always stood somewhat of a chance against him, knowing all his weak spots, like the clump of hair at the crown of his skull and how ticklish he is on his thighs, but now, after all the training he's been doing — he's huge, unfortunately.
if he grabs your wrists in one hand — like he's never been able to do — and holds them above your head, you're useless to defend yourself; there is an absolutely zero-percent chance you'll ever manage to overthrow him if he sits on you; tickling him is impossible, because his thighs have gotten so muscular that it's hard to grab him, and even if you do manage it, he can nearly crush your hand if he closes his legs together.
bakugou doesn't even look like your scrawny best friend anymore; he looks like the guy that ate your scrawny best friend.)
you graduate and go to college. bakugou graduates and goes to work for best jeanist, in the heart of tokyo. seeing each other means planning on it, making an effort neither of you have ever had to, and there's a lot of radio silence for months at a time. somehow it always comes full circle, though, and it always ends in violence, because you two don't know any other way to be.
you're twenty the first time his touch becomes tight, bruising, purposeful — for new reasons.
it's one of the few times he's off, and you haven't seen each other since his mom's dinner party four months ago. you only agree to come over because his patrol route had taken him through your campus and you'd spotted him across the street in the early hours of the morning, after you got out of class.
now you're both tired, lazing around despite planning to get lunch once the heat died down. together doing nothing; sometimes it's a little alarming how easily the two of you fall into each other, but you've been doing it for so long that it doesn't take a second thought.
bakugou strolls out of his bathroom with damp hair, in nothing but a loose pair of sweats, and you're laying on his couch half-asleep and he puts his wet towel over your face and you ball it up and throw it at him and then he tries to whip you with it.
"stop," you groan, serious, "you're so annoying." when he only twists it tighter, you stick your arm and leg out, deflecting against the wet smack he tries to leave against your skin.
his sharp teeth flash with his ugly little grin, and you try to grab the towel twice, ending up with an angry, stinging lick up the inside of your arm, before he gets too close and you can finally yank it from his hands. you sit up to get a better angle, but you're not as quick as he is, as adept at being a brat, and when he yanks on the towel, your whole body nearly comes off the couch, arms almost coming out of their sockets.
"bakugou!" you squeal, and he cackles, evil, and grabs your hands when you try to smack him. your massive, stinking, freight train of a best friend deposits his entire body on yours, crushing your lungs with his back as you cough, "get off!"
he doesn't say anything, choosing to pretend he's watching whatever is on tv and that he can't hear you — which you could believe, because bakugou likes trash television more than he lets on — and your hands are trapped at your sides and you can't breathe and so you bite him, right in the neck.
"ow, fuck!"
when he moves, he moves fast, and you're only hope of retaliating before he flips around and grabs your wrists and holds you down is to roll the both of you off the couch. his body thuds, deep and heavy, against the carpet, and you trap his hands beneath your knees as you straddle his hips, adjusting your full weight so you can at least try and keep him down.
beneath you, bakugou sneers. "you've got five seconds t'get off me before—"
"one!" you shout obnoxiously, rolling your eyes just to hear his annoyed snort. "two! three! f—"
his body snaps up into a sitting position, nose bumping yours as he rips his hands from beneath your legs. a scream tears out of your throat as you wiggle, surprised, trying your best to stretch your arms over your head and around your back so he can't grab them; if he does, it's game over for you.
"stop!" you shout, choking out a shock of laughter when he brings his legs up, trapping you in his lap against his chest. a little grunt leaves him as you jostle, but the tension at your back never lets up, not even when his mouth sets in a firm line and a sharp exhale leaves his nose. "let me go," you tell him, squirming again as he reaches for your hands. "i'm not playin' around."
"too bad, y'shitty nerd." he says, gruff, and when you stick your tongue out at him, he buries his face in your neck and bites, too, taking advantage of your shock as his fingers close around your wrists.
"no!" you scream again, trying in earnest just to get away from him completely, but he holds your hands behind your back and keeps you squished so tightly into him that you can only breathe shallowly, and his free hand goes to ball into your shirt at your side and —
— and his face is red, you realize, delayed. you can almost feel the heat from his cheeks with him so close, and you take in the flush of his neck, how it spreads down to his bare chest, crimson and fevered. his tongue darts out to wet his lips, nervous, almost.
"what?" you breathe, quiet, as if speaking too loud will break your playful bubble, and his eyes jump around his living room before landing back on you, narrowed and black.
"what?" he echoes, voice pitched and mocking. "you lose, dumbass." and even though he closes his eyes and grits his teeth, there isn't any hiding from how hard he's breathing. how subtle he's trying to be about spreading his legs.
all at once, everything kind of — falls apart.
bakugou is a man now, much to your horror; it feels like you've closed your eyes and opened them in the lap of someone else wearing your best friend's face. there's serious muscle definition in his shoulders and biceps, and you can feel yourself getting lost in the curves and valleys of him like never before. he's — you're — so close. more than it feels like you've ever been, even though you know that's far from true.
this boy used to pin you down in the yard and threaten to lick your face, the both of you grass-stained and covered in sweat. you've tackled him face first into the ocean on various vacations, running behind him quietly and plunging his scrawny, shirtless body into the waves as they rushed forward, uncaring of what you were wearing or how it twisted when you both came up for air.
saliva is still drying on your neck from where he bit you and, unthinking, your eyes dart down to his lips; plumper than you ever realized and parted, just a bit, enough that you can feel his breath on your cheeks. and you wonder —
bakugou grunts quietly, shuffling himself so that his back is leaned against the couch, and you half-expect him to just let you go because things have — changed. but he doesn't.
instead the new position has his legs a little wider and you've sunk a little further and you're now very aware of exactly what's changed, and how much. you can feel him twitch, just barely, and the hand he has at your side balls tighter into your shirt, jostling you minutely in the process.
and finally he opens his eyes and stares at you — cheeks burning, eyebrows furrowed — and you stare back — heat lighting up your body to an uncomfortable degree as your stomach flips.
you wonder what he would do, if you kissed him. what it would feel like. what he would taste like.
you move your hips with purpose, stuck on the new and foreign change it does to him; bakugou's always been a tough little brat, and you made him cry a handful of times when you were younger, but this weakness is — different. there's so much you know about him and yet even more for you to learn, and you find yourself consumed with the desire to explore this new, enticing territory.
his lashes flutter gently when you grind against him, tentatively, and then his head thumps back against the couch as the muscle in his jaw sets. half-lidded, his red-hot gaze jumps from your face down to where you're seated against him and back, and it's only after you move again that you realize — he's watching you, too. discovering.
the fist he has in your shirt loosens and his fingers burn your bare skin when they slip under the material to grip your hip. at any moment, you're half-expecting him to tell you to cut the shit, to shove you off and ask what the hell is wrong with you. why you're being so weird, doing things friends don't do to each other. but he doesn't.
you're almost certain that if you put your hands on his chest, you would be able to feel the mirrored, nervous pace of his heartbeat; it only takes the faintest tug of your hands for him to let you go, his grip falling to the other side of your hips. you can't tell if he means to hold you in place, or keep you going.
you spread your fingers out and, gently, as if you've never touched him before, run your hands up his chest, watching the bob of his adam's apple when you rest them on the sides of his neck. stabilizing yourself a bit, before testing the waters again.
bakugou's eyes are nearly black and when you don't stop, he looks down to resume watching the movement of your hips, the way his sweatpants bunch up and tug, and you feel a little zing up your spine with his every sharp inhale and sharper exhale. even his jaw falls a little slack and, fuck, you've never seen him like this.
you never thought you'd want to, but now — you don't think you'll ever see him any other way again.
his eyes go a little wide when you lean into him, brushing the tip of your nose against his. neither of you have said anything and maybe you should keep it that way, lest the bubble burst, but you feel like you're going a little insane.
quietly, around your own heavy breath, you ask, "does this — feel good?"
you can feel the temperature of his cheeks spike, but he nods shallowly regardless, and you press your mouth into his throat to bite him again, just lightly. it should be so that he's a little biter; the feel of your teeth makes him jump, has him angling his head so that more of his neck is exposed to you. when you soothe the barely-there indentation with the flat of your tongue, his breath hitches and his shoulders shake on a shudder and he groans, like he's angry.
"hah, fuck."
the friction in his lap isn't doing much for you, realistically, but his reaction is what has you aching, has you drawn tighter than a bow string. you feel yourself growing antsy for something that you won't name, because friends don't do that, though you can't help but to wonder if he's ever done it before.
you've had a few boyfriends. had a few experiences that ended quickly and left you feeling exposed and uncomfortable and a little in pain, and even though your girl friends insist that's normal — it's nothing like this. bakugou might not last much longer, if the grip he has on your hips is any indication, but not a single piece of your clothing has been removed and you're hot and getting sort of desperate and you know your underwear are a little more than damp.
you want to dismantle his long-standing composure. you want to be — maybe — the only one that gets to see him fall apart like this.
he's been your best friend your whole life, afterall; this experience should be yours. he should be.
the thought has you shivering a little bit and bakugou bucks up against you, pulling you down hard in his lap. dragging across the thick and solid length of him becomes even more clear and another, stronger zing has you letting out a breathy little sound into his ear. it makes him groan again, this one almost whiny, but he closes his mouth to muffle it and you don't want him to do that so you tighten your fingers in the hair on the crown of his head and — just to see, in a way you've never done before — you quietly whisper,
"katsuki,"
and he loses it.
one of his hands slips up your shirt to splay against your back, forcing you closer to him so he can bury his face in your neck, and his hips become insistent, urgent, rutting up against yours eagerly.
"fuck, oh fuck, fuck," he groans into your skin, fingers gripping you so tightly that you think he might actually leave burns behind, and his shoulders tremble before he goes totally still.
for a little while, you both sit there and let your breathing even out as reality sobers you from whatever lust-drunk haze you'd both been in. distantly, you think you wouldn't mind if he pinned you to the ground the way he always does, only this time to peel all your clothes off, right here on his living room floor. but he doesn't.
doesn't say anything, just shudders every now and again, and you think you're starting to feel the wet spot soaking into the front of his sweatpants.
you pull back just a little to look at him and he lets you, face just as red as he stares back at you, like he's the one waiting for you to freak. a little bit of red has returned to his eyes, though they're still swollen and dark with want.
when you lean in again, to bump your nose against his, bakugou snaps back away from you.
"wh-the fuck are y'doin'?" he shifts his eyes to the ground and they go wide. horrified, maybe. all the blood rushes in your ears and you don't know what to say, so he continues. "i-i don't have time t-to sit around all day, so—" bakugou shakes his head and you think he's going to kick you out, and he must know it, from how stiff you go. "so, you better know what the hell you wanna eat."
your bubble has burst; you nod silently and he glances up at you twice before swallowing.
"well, i can't get dressed with you sitting on me, so get off." when you remain quiet, he finally raises his head to look at you head-on, fisting the edge of your shirt again so that you'll look back. "d'you..." bakugou wets his lips before biting them, "need anything?"
"uh," maybe to shove your head down the drain and drown yourself, so that you can get rid of all the not-so-nice feelings that are creeping up beneath your skin. instead of that, you tell him, "just the bathroom, maybe."
"hurry up then," he mutters and even tries to roll his eyes, though it feels anything but casual. "don't...take for-fuckin'-ever."
and then he's up, quick to stand so that his back is to you as he disappears around the corner to his room, leaving you to yourself, trying to smooth out the wrinkle he's left in the corner of your shirt.
575 notes · View notes
croszukis · 6 days
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media
slaf at iihf worlds 2024
174 notes · View notes
raedas · 3 months
Text
where in the locked tomb universe are we?
or: a tentative guide to the solar system in the locked tomb and which houses go where :)
Tumblr media
[id: a diagram of the solar system, including pluto, with additional white text overlaid over each body. the sun is labeled dominicus, mercury is labeled the sixth, venus is the seventh, earth is the first, mars is the second, jupiter is the third, saturn is the fifth, uranus is the fourth, neptune is the eight, and pluto is the ninth. /end id]
note: i'm pretty sure people have put together similar analyses before, but i wanted to try my own hand at it! and please feel free to share if you disagree with me on anything & your own evidence and thoughts <3
evidence & analysis under the cut!
THE NINTH HOUSE:
okay, this one is pretty much just a freebie. if you didn't know that the ninth house was on pluto, then, uh... sorry! i'm not going to exhaustively go through all the evidence for this one, but some things that stick out are the cold, gideon's awe at how close the first house is to the sun, and the fact that it's the "ninth" to begin with—the house that wasn't really meant to exist, perfectly in line with the planet that isn't really a planet THE FIRST HOUSE:
this one is given to us just as much, if not moreso, than the ninth. with that in mind, i'm just going to do a quick run through of the evidence that the first house is earth: it's very blue and covered in water, there are ruins of civilization, it's "the first", so on and so forth. home, sweet home :)
THE SIXTH HOUSE:
Then he said, "The sun has stabilized. Hope the Sixth House didn't get cooked in the flare." (Harrow the Ninth, 490)
this line is pretty much the entire selling point for the sixth being on mercury, the closest planet to the sun! (until they run away to the other side of the universe, that is)
THE SEVENTH HOUSE:
There were other planets that made their homelands closer to the burning star of Dominicus--the Seventh and Sixth, for instance--but to Gideon they could not imaginably be anything else than 100 percent on fire. (Gideon the Ninth, 67)
the implication here is fairly obvious: the seventh and sixth are on venus and mercury, or vice versa. thankfully, since we have the sixth squared away as mercury, it's pretty obvious that the seventh is located on venus
BONUS MYTHOLOGY FACT: venus is the roman goddess of beauty! (also known by her greek name, aphrodite). "seven for beauty that blossoms and dies", huh?
THE EIGHTH HOUSE:
"I squeal so long and so loud that they hear me from the Eighth." (Gideon the Ninth, 26)
while this line is obvious hyperbole, to me it implies one of two things: either the eighth is the farthest planet from the ninth, or it's right next to them. and since we know that mercury already has its hands full with sixth house, i think it's safe to assume that the eighth is on neptune, the ninth's next door neighbor :)
THE SECOND HOUSE:
"We went through the same shitty questions of what to do. What about the Mars installation, what about the fusion batteries?" (Nona the Ninth, 74)
john helpfully offers this tidbit to us when he's recounting everything that happened leading up to the apocalypse to harrow. i think it says a lot that there was a mars installation even before the apocalypse properly hit, and it makes sense that said installation would eventually become a proper House, with a capital H
BONUS MYTHOLOGY FACT: mars is the roman god of warfare (known in greek as ares)! looks at the second house and how closely they're associated the cohort... yeah, i think that speaks for itself
THE THIRD & FIFTH HOUSES:
"I thought we'd end up on the Third or the Fifth, or a sweet space station, or something." (Gideon the Ninth, 56)
"We are not becoming an appendix of the Third or Fifth Houses," continued the necromancer opposite." (Gideon the Ninth, 58)
okay, here's this bit where things begin to get a bit hairy. repeatedly throughout the books, we're told about how the third and fifth are the two "big" houses. harrow's scared of them and worried they'll make the ninth one of their appendixes, gideon originally thinks the entire lyctoral meeting will be on one of their planets, so on and so forth. with that in mind, it really isn't that much of a stretch to think they'd be situated on the two giants in our solar system: jupiter and saturn. we'll come back in a moment to sort out which is which!
THE FOURTH HOUSE:
aaaand uranus is the only planet left! congrats, fourth!
THE THIRD & FIFTH HOUSES (again):
"Naturally [Isaac] is Pent's protégé. I hear the Fifth takes special pains with the Fourth... hegemonic pains, some may say." (Gideon the Ninth, 170)
from this quote, as well as the whole of jeannemary & isaac's relationship with magnus & abigail, we can surmise that the fourth house is very close to the fifth house (hegemonic though it may be). it's reasonable that that metaphorical proximity is reflecting (or caused by) something else: physical proximity. with that, i think it's fairly safe to assume that the fifth is on saturn, putting the third on jupiter
DOMINICUS:
aaand finally, the center of the solar system itself! i really, really don't think it needs sharing that dominicus is the sun, as long as you accept that the locked tomb takes place in our own solar system. however, i do think the meaning of dominicus is worth sharing. coming from latin, it translates roughly to "lordly", "belonging to god", or "of the master." very subtle, john, very subtle.
232 notes · View notes
arcanegifs · 1 year
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Arcane x Barbie Selfie Generator
477 notes · View notes
sfsolstice · 2 months
Text
Tumblr media
Emily Dickinson, from The Collected Poems of Emily Dickinson
69 notes · View notes
jiilll · 10 months
Text
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
my version for cover ideas of heroes of olympus!
263 notes · View notes
michaelmilligan · 24 days
Text
Do y'all even know how much I rotate post-canon Midam in my mind? Like, every day my brain is speed-running a fix-it where Michael is brought back.
And it can go so many ways.
Michael getting brought back, immediately rushing to Adam, and Adam accepting him back with only love and relief in his heart? Absolutely believable.
Michael being brought back, dragging his feet about going to Adam even though he desperately wants to see him, but also he pretty much betrayed his brothers and sided with God, and when he does finally go see him, Adam hits him with the whole 'How could you, I thought we were friends!' and takes a really long time to be convinced that Michael still likes him and wants to be with him? ALSO absolutely believable.
There's so much in between that, and there are of course several factors influencing which would be more likely - like how much time passes until Michael is brought back, whether Adam has been spending time Sam and Dean or not, and how much they told him, if anything. But at the end of the day, there is I think one big question that decides where it comes out to. And we simply don't see enough of those two on screen to be able to answer that question with any clarity.
The question is, how much of their feelings have these two shared?
And I don't necessarily mean this in a romantic way. I'm all for big dramatic 'I love you's and all that, but this would work just as well with a queer-platonic, or purely platonic, relationship between the two. In fact, I think even if they had exchanged 'I love you's before rapture, that still wouldn't answer this question.
The thing is, how much do they know about the depth of each other's feelings? Do they both know just how much the other wants to be with them? Does Adam know that Michael would burn the world if he asked? Does Michael know that Adam doesn't need him to kill for him, he needs him to LIVE for him? Does Adam know that the reason Michael didn't go back to Heaven is at least 90% him? Does Michael know that Adam isn't just keeping him around because it's convenient, but because he genuinely enjoys hanging out with him?
There is a lot of interpretation here on my part, but yeah, I think whatever configuration you put these two in (romantic/queer-platonic/whatever else), these two are just absolutely unhinged about each other. As in they cannot imagine a life without each other anymore. Adam just spent at least a thousand years with Michael alone. That's the equivalent of several human lifetimes! And for Michael, it's of course considerably less, but do you really think he has been this close with, this focused on anyone since Lucifer fell? Since his family broke apart, and he became a general above anything else? Do you think he isn't absolutely thrilled to have Adam, a guy who doesn't always agree with him but likes him anyway, a guy he is literally chilling in the same body with, as close as two people can conceivably be? You think he's not insane about that guy?
Anyway, this got off track, but I truly do believe that how the fix-it goes depends on whether they know this about each other. How secure they are about each other's feelings. Because I think if Adam knows how Michael feels about him, he's more likely to think along the lines of 'Michael was manipulated by his abusive dad and went back to him, man I wish I could have been there and helped him untangle his emotions, he must have been at rock bottom :(' and less likely something like 'Michael went back to his dad as soon as I was gone, guess he never cared about me at all'.
And I guess in the end it does come down to Adam, because while I can see Michael being insecure and not knowing if Adam will take him back, he would also jump immediately if Adam called for him in a prayer or anything like that. Meanwhile, if Adam is angry, I think Michael would withdraw pretty quickly, which Adam would take as confirmation that Michael never really cared much...
So, yeah. I guess what I'm trying to say is that it can go many ways, and to me it depends heavily on whether they (especially Adam, but also Michael) know how much the other cares for them.
44 notes · View notes
Photo
Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media Tumblr media
Moominpappa literally looks exactly like his son without his top hat, that’s canon.
I took a break between drawing the first panel and the rest, god its noticeable 😅and yeah;; Its another style shift, and not my last;; oh well
931 notes · View notes