In The Last 24 Hours Staff Has Told A Trans Woman (maia Crimew) A Rape Threat In Her Inbox Doesn’t

Theyre so THEM UGH

Fundamental life advice: never trust a product from a youtuber/influencer sponsorship

One day I want to crowdfund a castle and turn it into a shelter for LGBTQ+ youth

This idea has been in the back of my head for months. If people are in favor, I will make a serious attempt to accomplish this within the next 10 years.

Crying, screaming, throwing up! It's so good, I'm sobbing!

all the self-loathing in the world won’t change a thing (‘cause you can’t go back, darling)

Esdras Al-Ridha is born in 1899, in his mother’s family home. His birth certificate, when it’s written a month later by Dr. Yuriy Rockbell, will declare his name Edward Elric. It will name his mother Trisha, and it will say nothing of her white hair. It will say nothing of the blue desert sky he first opens his eyes under, the way he is passed to relative after relative and is held and blessed by each. (Even before the war, tensions are high, and hatred is brewing. Tirzah holds her newborn son, with eyes as gold as his father’s, and pale-sun hair halfway there, and she decides that if Ishvala wants him hidden, then Tirzah will not brand him where his genes have not.)

MY FRIEND WROTE AN ISHVALAN AU AND I WANTED TO VISUALIZE SOME STUFF WHILE HE WAS SHARING SNIPPETS IN THE GROUP CHAT SO I DREW THESE

I JUST FINISHED READING IT AND IM VERY UPSET AND YOU WILL BE TOO

also hohenheim is from the desert so like… he also gets dark skin.

anyway PLEASE READ THE FIC HERES THE LINK AGAIN

Twst incorrect quotes #08

Epel: I think I should be allowed on ghost hunter tv shows.

Deuce: I think that would be dangerous for the ghosts.

-

Kalim: I can't believe you've done this.....

Yuu: I'm sorry I didn't know-!

Kalim, on the verge of tears: YOU CAN'T JUST BUY ME A GIFT OUT OF NOWHERE NOW I FEEL LIKE A HORRIBLE PERSON!

-

*First years talking about past crushes*

Deuce: What the fuck? People actually tell their crushes they like them??

Ace: What the hell do you do?

Deuce: I die? What kinda question…

-

Yuu: Quitting! It's like trying, but easier.

-

Cater: °sapnu puaS

Azul: What??

Lilia: What language is that.

Cater: Turn your phone 180 degrees.

*Cater was removed from the group chat*

rose hunt-clover, a literal plant turned human due to science club shenanigans

he insists on calling trey and rook “papa”, though one of them is much more adamant about upholding this title than the other

please don't like without reblogging!

Farewell online privacy

Twst quotes #06

Grim: Do you ever think? Because I don't.

-

Yuu: I'd like to live through a week that's not a whole new verse of "We Didn't Start the Fire."

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Yuu, on the phone: So no head?

Yuu: *Breaks Crowley's phone and mask*

-

Ace, dangling from a rope over a pit of fire: Remember when I said I'd tell you when we're in too deep?

Deuce:Yes?

Ace: We're in too deep.

-

Yuu: If I die you can have what little I own.

Jamil: Wait. What do you mean "if" you die?

Yuu: My unending existence is fuelled by pure spite, that of which the painful experiences of life have rendered me full.

Jamil:

Jamil: *Sighs* Let me call Professor Crewel.

Day 12 | 23.2.2023

WC: 523

Prompt: [by @/dailyprompts | no. 2050]

Warning: body horror, blood

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They make sure to close all curtains before going to sleep and doesn’t like to open them until much later in the day, so when they woke up at their usual 3:30 a.m., they didn’t notice anything wrong. They had their usual coffee, showered, did some make-up, and got to painting at their desk.

They loved it, drawing out the imagery in their head and creating a piece that was as unique as the person making it gave them immense happiness. For them, it was the human body. The twisting of organs in ways that should never have been comprehended by anything, the colours too bright to be comfortable but in the sense that you just can’t look away, the feeling of illness captured by something created by another being.

It was as typical a morning as it could get.

It was 8:00 am before they finally took a break and stretched their limbs. The popping of their joints sounded oddly reassuring, and they took a look at the once-empty canvas. It was beautiful, the elongated legs that had too low knees, the pale skin making their red pupilless eyes pop, the blindingly white hair that frayed at the ends, all of it was beautiful. Satisfied with their work, they got up and opened the windows to let some light into their awfully dark house.

Only to find that the sky was… pink. A bright blinding pink that oddly reminded them of something as sweet as saccharine. And there weren’t any clouds blocking out the pretty colour. It wasn’t bad, it honestly suited the sky better than the blue it was constantly being. You’d think whoever was in charge would change it up a bit.

Then they realized something else. The world around them was… strangely silent. No cars driving by, no birds chirping to wake up the sleeping neighbours, not even a gust of wind. In other words, they were alone. There was no need to check on their friends and family to confirm this, it was a gut feeling they knew was true. 

It was strange, but there was no sense of panic in them. Rather, they were calmer than they had felt in a long time. The deep innard feeling of contentment filled them to the brim, reaching the very edge of their hairs and eyelashes to the rim of their pupils.

Perhaps it was the voice telling them that it was fine, and everything was normal, or maybe they had been losing their minds over the course of their entire life, but nonetheless, they went back to “work” and continued painting. Something that would usually bring them immense joy, but nothing felt right.

The paintings were great, pretty, aesthetic, cute, handsome, beautiful- as they always have been. But it didn’t feel like it was enough. The scars and wounds of the things didn’t feel like they belonged there, the missing ears, the cut-out eyes, the empty empty mouth, the blood drip drip dripping from their bodies didn’t feel like it should be on it. 

They closed their eyes for just a second, and on the table was a knife.