d e v o n
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
Not today Justin
Show & Tell
EXPECTATIONS
hello vonnie
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Keni
2025 on Tumblr: Trends That Defined the Year
Sweet Seals For You, Always
wallacepolsom
Peter Solarz
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KIROKAZE
he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
trying on a metaphor
pixel skylines
roma★
blake kathryn
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@archangelofdance-blog
☤
I am starting to think you’re in love with me.
…But, I wouldn’t know for certain. Did you come to wish me nicely in becoming a normal human being?
I don't know that I'm capable of that sort of thing.
And... yes, I suppose. In a sense. I wouldn't have phrased it that way, but...
How are you, Honey?
Talk to my character using only song lyrics. They'll reply doing the same.
Let’s make a musical!
is it possible to rip ones uterus out
Possible, yes. Advisable, no.
dont care gonna do it anyways
... Would you at least like some assistance?
is it possible to rip ones uterus out
Possible, yes. Advisable, no.
by “minority representation” i didnt mean “minority representation in the form of fetishization and jokes”
dontaskjaska started following you
You have wings, too, don't you? Tell me, how do you like flying?
A boy and a girl run around on the grass at the park. The boy tackles the girl. The girl laughs. She gets up and runs away. She loves to run. He chases, she turns and they grab each other, tumble and land in a pile, giggling. After a few minutes, he tackles her again and she lands a bit hard. She is bigger and physical, but he more than holds his own in roughhousing. She pauses for a second. Then she laughs again; she’s still having fun.Dad gets his attention, and says, “If she’s not having fun, you have to stop.”He is two. He needs to hear this now, and so does she. And again, and again, and again, so that like wearing a helmet on the bike it is ingrained.
Yes Means Yes blog: “visions of female sexual power & a world without rape”
Parents, siblings, carers, cousins, teachers, tutors, mentors, aunts, uncles, etc, of young children: we have a chance to mold the gender relations of the future.
(via genderqueer)
Such great advice.
I’ve done this with my kids since the moment they could each sign “more” and “all done” around 8 months old. More tickles? Or all done? More kisses? Or all done? More bouncing? Or all done?
When they’re old enough to play with others, you teach them to constantly check in with each other. Are you having fun? Or do you want to be done?
Is the shrieking laughter or fear? ASK.
Is the giggling from joy or nervousness? ASK.
Do you like being smacked with pillows? ASK.
Are you having fun wrestling? ASK.
And keep asking. What was fun five minutes ago might not be fun now.
Both kids know the moment something stops being fun, they need to stop. And they know that their wishes about what is fun and what’s not will be respected by their parents and by each other. They’ve known it since 8 months old.
This truly isn’t a difficult concept. It’s easy to teach it by example and it’s incredibly simple for children to do.
Are you having fun? Or do you want to stop?
Fucking teach it, parents. Please. ~JJ
(via archionblu)
The worst part of being an angel is seeing past the Masks.
You’re very self-involved for a messenger of a being that is beyond such notions. Especially given the fact that minimizing any one given person’s trauma by way of using context of time, place, or culture, is a tell-tale sign of narcissism. It’s a very effective and manipulative way of excusing your lack of empathy toward your conversational partner.
And, speaking of, I find your lack of empathy actually rather amusing. Are all divine creatures such as yourself so jaded? Perhaps I’m closer to God than I thought.
[She blinks, staring at him.]
I have much more empathy towards people who deserve it, doctor. I'm really sorry for your sister. I am. Don't doubt that of me.
But technically speaking, yes. Archangels have no empathy while we rest in Heaven. We have literally no emotion, rather like yourself. It makes it much easier to set us out to destroy towns full of innocent people, you see. In Heaven, our only thought is to Obey and Worship.
And then we get on Earth. And we slowly become Human. I've been on Earth only a few years, barely a second in the grand scheme of my life, so. Forgive me if I'm having trouble with emotions. I'm still getting used to them.
//Dyed my hair black, so here, have a selfie!
Shitty lighting makes it look a lot lighter than it actually is tbh. It's actually like the color of that filing cabinet in the background and my lipstick is way more coral and cream heueheuehue but YEAH here's my face OuO
[ He can almost feel the bone-sharp crackle of that ice beneath his feet, as he chokes on something that looks like rage and sounds like hysterical laughter. His shoulders dip and tremble for a moment, but it isn’t out of shame for the lies he’s insisting on. It’s just because, well— he finds this whole thing so damned funny. ]
…You know really it’s funny, how all these Aces are the same suit. How all these angels are the same breed of prideful. I’d say show me your hand, Dandyman but— he’s not here.
[ Whoever he even is. Certainly Honey has no clue, though he references the stranger intimately. One thing to simply stand and address this imaginary audience of one, but another thing entirely to actually know who he’s addressing just over Gabriel’s left shoulder. ]
Would your eyes be blinded by my radiance she asks. She knows the answer though. They always know the answer but— they always. Always. Ask. Maybe before they stand to judge my sins they should think— this superbia, how do I know it exists.
Easy answer. Because only a creature this ff—fucking prideful would feel a child’s disrespect enough to threaten him. Let me brag about my healing eyes! Can your eyes do that! I’m an angel of God! I’m divine will! You’re a twenty-six year old human boy from Belgie and only one of us is pathetic and the other one took Mockingbird’s amber eye and mailed it to his boss!
[At the word "prideful", she draws back as if Honey had slapped her. She stares up at him— and it's a long way up, Honey with his miles of heights and Gabriel in a form she tailor-made for ballet dancing— and for just a second looks like she might cry. The second passes, and her eyes return to the calm and eternal fury that has so often given her away as much older than she looks.]
Let's be honest, Honey. Both of us are pathetic. If we weren't, we wouldn't bother arguing so pettily, now would we?
And maybe you're right. No, you're definitely right. You're a child, and I'm always prideful enough to fall. All of us, all of my siblings and I, we have our sins. And Pride is mine.
So let's just both admit what we are, Honey. A prideful, murdering child. And a prideful, murdering Archangel.
[She almost laughs again, but instead it comes out as a strangled sort of almost-choking sound.]
Aren't we a pair of Aces?
first person to put "you're under my control" in my askbox has my character brainwashed by you
I love my kitten. But. It's quite hard to sleep when he won't stop running all over me.
[She frowns, but her expression doesn’t change otherwise. She’s used to people attempting to lie to her, you see.]
I know your name. I know you once ripped out somebody’s eyes and laughed about it. I know you’re a murderer. Don’t lie to me, Honey. There’s no point.
[A small smile]
I see through your Mask, remember?
He fell into traffic. Just because I stole his dumb fake eye after, he did not even need it at that point. I am not a murderer.
[ Honey’s voice is suddenly flat, betraying absolutely nothing of the giddy rush he experiences even now, thinking about how it had felt to push Mockingbird off-balance and let the traffic swallow him up— an even exchange for the years he’d spent all but driven underground by the one-eyed selky, since the argument that had led to the (first, real) eye being lost torn out and crushed in Honey’s fist in the first place. ]
…You are lucky I don’t have those episodes anymore. [ He mutters, mostly toneless. ] Your eye might be what I clawed for, I am so insulted. Definitely the brain-damaged one here should be defending his slips of bad judgement. Definitely, the what-was-the-word-oh-right-mentally-ill one. Should be on trial for this accidental death. I am so insulted.
[ He doesn’t know why he’s arguing this, with a creature that can see straight through him. It might be a ploy to fool her through insistence alone. Maybe it’s just because he doesn’t like being told there’s no point to something? ]
[She actually laughs at that. Though it isn't the tinkling wind chimes sound of her usual laughter;but rather the dry and humourless laugh of someone far too old who has see far too many Bad Things. Someone who does not appreciate you lying to them about another Bad Thing.]
Honey, you ripped his eye out and you enjoyed it. Don't lie to me.
And you can rip my eyes out now if you want. Go ahead. They'll grow back. Will yours, if I show you my truest form and burn them away?
[Careful now, Honey. Gabriel is known as one of the most patient of her siblings. You've gotten her to the point of threatening violence; you're walking on thin ice.]
The worst part of being an angel is seeing past the Masks.
It was wartime, Dr. Lecter. I’m sorry, but everyone on Earth needed help.
I know how disgusting the past is. I’ve lived much longer than you, oh good doctor. And here is what I know, from my age and my job: sometimes even the will of Yahweh cannot stop human cruelty. Especially when it’s happening en masse all over the world.
Do not patronize or condescend me. Least of all when you’ve dared say her name aloud.
... I apologise, doctor. You're right, that was quite rude of me.
I didn't mean to offend. I got frustrated, which is... really not supposed to happen.
Perhaps I'm just bad at my job.
The worst part of being an angel is seeing past the Masks.
…
[She clenches her teeth and looks away.]
In human waste. After soldiers ate your sister.
Is this proof enough yet?
I would rather have heard you curse if only out of the sheer amusement it would cause at prospect of a servant of God fowling her tongue with the truth of how disgusting and real the past is.
But, alas. Protection of children is hardly in your job description.
It was wartime, Dr. Lecter. I'm sorry, but everyone on Earth needed help.
I know how disgusting the past is. I've lived much longer than you, oh good doctor. And here is what I know, from my age and my job: sometimes even the will of Yahweh cannot stop human cruelty. Especially when it's happening en masse all over the world.
//PASSIONATELY LOVES CLARICE STARLING
