Can You Please Reblog If Your Blog Is A Safe Place For Lesbian, Gay, Bisexual, Transgender, Asexual,

you know, now that the personification of the chats as entities are a lot more talked about, i cant help but go back to previous moments and think of these like. hordes of animals being present when it happened.

like imagining the code fight trying to defend tallulah, but the skies are shadowed with crows,all of them staying in the distance but sometimes diving down in useless attempts at assisting phil defend tallulah

a bunch of rats in the vents of the prison, sneaking scraps and anything that maybe could be useful to pac and mike

a bunch of moles and builder rodents hanging on a boat, some of them trying to shake foolish awake and others franticly trying to reach leo as she's flung up in the air by a whale. or the same tiny things just, jumping around the stairs of vegetta's home when the code attack happened

a hoard of angry whispering ghosts and hissing cats (idk what baghera's chat is) surrounding elquackity as bad checks on dapper on the cage after being kidnapped

and then the obvious: the phil and etoiles code fight, with the glass dome completely obscured by a murder of corvids, with only the lights of buzzing fireflies between them. Cats, rats, ghosts, all of them hanging on the edges of the arena, all eyes trained on the fight

i just think it brings SUCH a visual flare to epic scenes....

"So about that NPC you like..."

“So you remember that tragic part of your backstory?”

Hello Everyone!

Today is the first day of the weeklong strike for a ceasefire in Gaza.

I have realized that I do not think the message has spread far, at least on this website. This might be due to the lack of internet in Gaza, it has been down for days. Not much can be said by the citizens there, it's like some people forgot about them. I encourage all of you to share this post, or make your own, letting everyone know about this strike. This is something that should transcend the aesthetic of your blog. My blog was a gimmick blog, but for this week, it is a blog for spreading information and awareness.

Bisan Odwa (@wizard_bisan1 on instagram) has called for this strike. She is a journalist from Gaza, who has been experiencing this horrid violence for 15 weeks. 107 days. 2568 hours.

These were the images she posted, calling for this strike:

Reblog this, share this. Do not stop until every supporter of Gaza knows what we must do this week.

Free Palestine, Free Gaza, Ceasefire now!

Thinking about how my mom tried to “seduce” my dad when they were in college together by sneaking oranges into his backpack, because she grew up food insecure and feeding someone/sharing food was a big deal with her upbringing with a lot of emotional meaning–

and meanwhile my poor dad is just convinced that he’s been haunted by some citrus poltergeist because why the fuck are there always oranges in his bag he swears he did not put there???

Okay fuck it if this post reaches 666k notes by the end of 2023 I'll practise basic self care

Why 666k? Because it's funny and impossible so good fucking luck

You know those anime meta posts along the lines of “I was born with pink hair. The doctors told my parents I was a Main Character and ever since my life has not known peace from demons/spirits/sports competitions/harems who find me”

Well I see that, and I raise you this:

An anime boy whose appearance is, by absolutely anyone’s account, completely and utterly average. Mundane hair. Mundane eyes. Not even glasses to set him the tiniest bit apart. A simple, unmemorable, unrecognizable civilian among a backdrop of millions.

And he has a lot of passions, and a lot of ambitions, which he hones every chance he gets. He’s dabbled in sports and archery and cooking and just about anything you could wrap a competition around. And he’s competed in many of these. Every chance he gets. With all of his passion and all of his might.

He’s crushed by the competition every single time.

Until one day–one day something clicks for him. Something that should have seemed obvious from the start and yet never was–as though everyone, including himself, was unwittingly blind to it. It clicks, when he realizes every kid who’s beaten him in competition, every kid who’s gone on to fame and glory and acclaim, has been some candy-haired gel-spiked ridiculously-dressed fucker. 

There’s some trend there that this Main Character boy can’t explain and can’t understand but he decides, this one time, fuck it. He’ll play along too. He’s got a model train competition in four days, and he’s got nothing more to lose. He hits up the department store, buys the pinkest, noxious-est, fruitiest hair dye he can find, the spikiest hair gel available, and the gaudiest clothes on the thrift rack. He enters the model train competition looking like a bubble gum gijinka.

And he wins.

Suddenly, the other candy-haired contestants notice him. They talk to him. They pledge rivalries. Girls notice him. Judges applaud him. Acclaimed model train aficionados offer him internships across the world. He’s hit on something. 

The main cast expands to cover just about every candy-hair cliche in the book: from the mostly-normal-looking demure school girl with the blue hair to the Naruto-est, yelling-est boy with the red-and-green spiked hair. The cool megane senpais, the purple haired tsunderes, suddenly everyone is interested in him. They’re prodigies and upstarts and underdogs and they truly believe that this main character boy is one of them.

So the main character boy maintains his ruse. He touches up his roots at dawn every morning and carefully attends to his gelled spikes and tells absolutely no one about this great, uncanny, unfathomable secret he’s stumbled upon. He wins his competitions left and right. He racks up the acclaim. He’s hailed as a prodigy of all trades, just now bursting onto the scene, and boils to the top of all his candy-haired peers.

He’s rising up, his every dream within his grasp. Until one day he gets a note under his door, taped to an old picture of his Normal Boring self from middle school, that says “You don’t belong”

And so much insecurity to show it too

heartbreaking:

girl has sooooooo many ambitions and ideas for projects but can only get 1.5 basic tasks done per day

the notes are broken 😂