Game of Thrones Daily
will byers stan first human second
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JBB: An Artblog!
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RMH
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dirt enthusiast
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
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Misplaced Lens Cap
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if i look back, i am lost
@theartofmadeline
i don't do bad sauce passes
Aqua Utopia｜海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
ellievsbear
Claire Keane
$LAYYYTER
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@fellflight
life comes at you fast
old man assaulted for having opinion in democratic republic of commiefornia
*picks fights and says “punch me” to people who say hes an asshole*
“WAHHHH WHY DID THEY ACTUALLY DO IT”
It’s A Free Market For Ass Kicking In The Citadel Of Capitalism
speaking of wireplay walk w me on robot companion a la service dog dennis who was commissioned for jack by the govt after he lost his wife to help w his grief and ptsd and mechanic!robby who he calls to consult when dennis starts to break down
it starts as the usual inspection and repair routine until robby has all of dennis’ motor system disconnected and he can’t move, robby’s hands deep into his chest compartment showing jack exactly how he fits together…dennis’ body hums when jack reaches in a softly touches his cpu…
when are we all gonna get more into wire play. have sex with that robot in perverted and unconventional ways NOW
everyones got that fic they chip away at like michaelangelo sculpting david. and brother? its penis month
asked my friends if they knew what i was referencing and they said no. we all know that post where someone divided how long it took michelangelo to sculpt david by it's size and went "yuuuuup. whole month spent on penis" right. sure, my search history is full variations upon "michelangelo penis month tumblr" to no avail, but we all know it. right.
Hi, that was a MBMBAM bit. But i see you and i hear you and i dont know if someone already said something
oh my god youre right.
[ID: Screenshot of a transcript.
Travis: Yeah. It well--but it's seventeen feet tall divided by twenty-four months means that every month he crafted point seven--so like about three-quarters of a foot. Right? So, nine inches. So yes, I could say that just statistically speaking, there was a wiener month.
Griffin: Okay. "So how was your September, Michelangelo?" "It was, it was intense."
/ID]
tgis is so fucking funny to me. they accidentally Rock Lee'd a retired racehorse
imagine youre a fat horse and your new neighbour is a personal trainer
horse that reads Marcus Aurelius
I was wrong. they didnt rock lee him. this horse is literally Gai. and i wish he was my dad
sixpencee got less hate for straight-up admitting to owning a child slave than I do for saying children shouldn't be treated as property
like i'll say "parents should not be able to unilaterally override their child's consent" and some dipshit will see the word consent and the smoke from the hollowed-out crater that used to be their critical thinking skills will immediately coalesce into a message in my ask box calling me a pedo. no fucking hope for any of you
which I say, by the way, because one of my closest friends was able to be effectively disappeared off the face of the earth and sent into the woods to be sexually abused and tortured into being straight due to parents effectively owning their children as property. if you are a minor your consent simply does not actually matter - whether you get vaccinated, whether you get to go to school, whether people get to hug touch you, what you wear, how your hair is cut, what your hobbies are, whether you get to have friends, and yes, whether you want to be sent to a torture camp in the woods or not - your consent is entirely meaningless because your parents can simply override it, and there's fuckall you can do about it, because you aren't a person, you're just property. the family dog has more protections against being abused than children do
but! if you ever point this out you get called you a rapist
dennis is basically a service dog when robby has a panic attack. he sees it coming from a mile away, notices the tension in robby's shoulders, how he starts to snap at staff, a hand going to the back of his head and petting or rubbing, self-soothing. desperate to keep it together.
he's quick to slip his fingers into robby's and ignore the older man's protests, dragging him into a quiet room, sitting him down. he curls himself into robby's lap, soft and warm and weighted, grounding and safe. dennis guides robby's hand to his soft curls, and slumps against him, breathing purposefully slow so robby will unconciously start to match it.
and they stay there, for a few minutes. robby's hand loses its tremor as he pets over dennis's hair, his body slowly relaxing as the warmth of dennis seeps into him. robby stops petting for a moment to slide his arms fully around dennis's waist, hugging him close, letting out a shuddering sigh as his face buries in blond curls. he takes slow, deep breaths of dennis's gentle scent, cradling his boy close.
once robby is fully calmed, dennis asks a careful better? and robby hums, drops a kiss to the top of his head. mumbles better, whispers I love you.
whitaker is not robby's new langdon and he never has been. and robby does not see himself in whitaker. that's not the point of dennis regurgitating robby's teachings, "oh it's like robby when he was younger..."
it's to show dennis looks up to robby. and that's what gets robby. because dennis is a person who saw him curled up on the floor like a baby, crying and whimpering, completely breaking, and stayed through it. saw all of it. and still, still respects him, trusts him, likes him, looks up to him afterwards.
he saw robby at an extremely vulnerable moment and did not "abandon" him. thaaat is the root of the attachment. that is why robby is so careful to keep dennis from seeing the uglier parts of him. he is desperate to have at least one person who still thinks he's good. who still looks up to him as the "captain" of the ED.
I'm not saying this is a good thing, it isn't, for either of them, but it's soooo interesting. dennis is not langdon, dennis is not robby, dennis is dennis.
hey so did y’all hear about henry nowak
An independent investigation into why Henry Nowak was handcuffed by police as he was dying is ongoing.
can we please talk about how segments of anti-racist rhetoric are taking the same turn as radfeminism? like isn’t anti-racism, by the same standards as feminism, supposed to aim for equality rather than institutional reversal?
it feels cheap and unnecessary to say that i am a brown woman but i think if i were to come across as racist that would take away from what i’m trying to say
guys don’t ignore this
PLEASE MORE ABUSED WEREWOLF DENNIS IM BEGGING IM BEGGING IM ON MY KNEES PLSPLSPLSPLSPLSPLS
say less anon :P
appearance wise i imagine dennis to be generally smaller than your typical wolf; the lack of proper nutrition growing up severely stunting his growth however he is VERY well built. due to spending his youth turned over-night, he’d regularly have to scare predators off the property to protect his pack aka the livestock, so he’s used to fighting things like coyotes. this adds onto the obscene amounts of scars on his shifted form, with one of his ears being half gone and one of his legs having a permanent limp due to having gotten a nasty bite which never got treated.
this adds onto his terrified behaviour around robby and jack when they all shift together for the first time because his only experiences around other canid predators was fighting and he knows he’s not strong enough to fight back, hence the submissive behaviour to try dissuade them from hurting him (which they never would). ofc the two older wolves see this and take their time with him, mostly with jack approaching him as his slightly smaller form and missing hind limb makes him appear as less of a threat to dennis’ hindbrain. robby however takes awhile before he can get close without the younger running away as he is large even by werewolf standards, so instead he resorts to hunting for dennis, dropping off rabbits or picking out the most nutrient-dense organs from larger hunts to specifically gift to dennis. overtime the steady supply of food combined with the lack of stress when shifted allows his wolf to flourish, growing a thick curly blonde coat which the other two simply can’t stop grooming as the curls leave him a shaggy look.
the one aspect that never changed is dennis’ control though. his human and wolf minds are simply too separated for too long, so jack and robby go out of their way to teach him werewolf social customs when not shifted; scent marking people, how territory works, what certain sub-vocal sounds mean, better ways to handle his senses etc. and slowly he starts to accept these parts of himself, not as being some sort of demon that possessed him as a child, but instead as a natural part of himself. he learns the science behind lycanthropy and begins to really flourish, though it doesn’t stop the nightmares of his brothers beatings and the exorcisms that were performed on him as a child that lead to him waking up in utter terror and praying desperately for forgiveness.
yeh, werewolf dennis once again my beloved :3
tboy dennis gets debilitating cramps on his period and the first time he gets it once he and rabbot get together he doesn’t go more than ten minutes without one (or two) set(s) of warm hands massaging him, petting through his hair, soft bodies next to him in bed or in the bath. he’s never been taken care of like this but jack and robby won’t let him go without ever again
thinking about werewolf!dennis whitaker
he got bit at an extremely young age, thinking like 7 years old, when he snuck out to the barn one night. he parents came out when they heard him screaming and shot the wolf but it didn’t go down and that’s how they knew it wasn’t a normal wolf. being out in the countryside, they’d known about supernatural-esque stuff so they immediately knew what dennis now was. but with their extreme religious takes, they essentially now viewed dennis as being possessed by a demon.
he wasn’t allowed in the house anymore, wasn’t allowed to interact with other kids outside of school hours. and since he was essentially stuck outside overnight, dennis’ natural instincts would prompt him to turn every single night rather than just on the full moon to protect himself from the cold and he essentially became the guardian dog of the farm. he would eat the scraps his family through out or the rodents he could catch around the barn, but he’d never touch the farm animals. when the nights were particularly brutal it was the sheep and the cattle that he’d curl up with for warmth. they were his pack. and because of this, dennis would have no control over his behaviour when shifted. his wolf had had no positive experiences with humans (his brothers would regularly torment him when shifted), yet plenty of positive experiences around other animals, he acts purely off instincts when shifted since he wasn’t taught how to merge the wolf and the human side of him like other werewolves.
he doesn’t even meet any other werewolves until he’s at the ptmc, when he meets robby and jack. he doesn’t even clock them as wolves because his own wolf and him are so disconnected, he only realises when jack and robby invite him to join them on the full moon. he says yes but is absolutely shitting himself. he never remembers anything when shifted and it afraid of hurting someone or embarrassing himself, ever since he’s been in pittsburgh he’s been locking himself up in a sewer to shift so the open woodlands that robby drives them to is very different. they can obviously tell that he’s nervous so they simply try and keep him calm, and when he shifts it’s becomes obvious why.
he’s submissive. like painfully terrifyingly submissive. he doesn’t let either of them get close and when they do he immediately drops to the floor showing his belly and whining like an unsocialised puppy. they also note the scarring on his body and immediately take him in.
it becomes routine, he joins them on every full moon (whether he wants to or not) and they begin to teach him how to actually be a werewolf, hunting with him, play fighting, grooming, the whole thing. it also translates into their work. jack becomes just as handsy with him as robby, both of them scent marking him constantly, checking up on him when he’s doing perfectly fine, jack even starts calling him pup. they become their own little ragtag pack of misfits.
whether it stays platonic or becomes something else is up to you but yeh.
werewolf dennis :3
unfortunately very true. Doing Better does not always mean never being upset or never being triggered or never having trouble. often Doing Better means experiencing those things and being able to keep going/cope healthily/move on. if you’re in a bubble with no sensation, if you’re numbing yourself out, that’s not what recovering really is. it won’t help you have a happier life it’ll just make your world smaller and smaller until you can’t fit anywhere anymore. gotta learn to make peace with the hard stuff too, that’s the only way to keep going
I did not come into Tumblr dot com to be called out in this way.
I'm never looking respectfully, I'm always looking with the deep and unrestrained desire of a delighted faggot.
💥💥💥‼️‼️‼️
This is a dangerous sentiment for me to express, as an editor who spends most of my working life telling writers to knock it off with the 45-word sentences and the adverbs and tortured metaphors, but I do think we're living through a period of weird pragmatic puritanism in mainstream literary taste.
e.g. I keep seeing people talk about 'purple prose' when they actually mean 'the writer uses vivid and/or metaphorical descriptive language'. I've seen people who present themselves as educators offer some of the best genre writing in western canon as examples of 'purple prose' because it engages strategically in prose-poetry to evoke mood and I guess that's sheer decadence when you could instead say "it was dark and scary outside". But that's not what purple prose means. Purple means the construction of the prose itself gets in the way of conveying meaning. mid-00s horse RPers know what I'm talking about. Cerulean orbs flash'd fire as they turn'd 'pon rollforth land, yonder horizonways. <= if I had to read this when I was 12, you don't get to call Ray Bradbury's prose 'purple'.
I griped on here recently about the prepossession with fictional characters in fictional narratives behaving 'rationally' and 'realistically' as if the sole purpose of a made-up story is to convince you it could have happened. No wonder the epistolary form is having a tumblr renaissance. One million billion arguments and thought experiments about The Ones Who Walk Away From Omelas that almost all evade the point of the story: that you can't wriggle out of it. The narrator is telling you how it was, is and will be, and you must confront the dissonances it evokes and digest your discomfort. 'Realistic' begins on the author's terms, that's what gives them the power to reach into your brain and fiddle about until sparks happen. You kind of have to trust the process a little bit.
This ultra-orthodox attitude to writing shares a lot of common ground with the tight, tight commodification of art in online spaces. And I mean commodification in the truest sense - the reconstruction of the thing to maximise its capacity to interface with markets. Form and function are overwhelmingly privileged over cloudy ideas like meaning, intent and possibility, because you can apply a sliding value scale to the material aspects of a work. But you can't charge extra for 'more challenging conceptual response to the milieu' in a commission drive. So that shit becomes vestigial. It isn't valued, it isn't taught, so eventually it isn't sought out. At best it's mystified as part of a given writer/artist's 'talent', but either way it grows incumbent on the individual to care enough about that kind of skill to cultivate it.
And it's risky, because unmeasurables come with the possibility of rejection or failure. Drop in too many allegorical descriptions of the rose garden and someone will decide your prose is 'purple' and unserious. A lot of online audiences seem to be terrified of being considered pretentious in their tastes. That creates a real unwillingness to step out into discursive spaces where you 🫵 are expected to develop and explore a personal relationship with each element of a work. No guard rails, no right answers. Word of god is shit to us out here. But fear of getting that kind of analysis wrong makes people hove to work that slavishly explains itself on every page. And I'm left wondering, what's the point of art that leads every single participant to the same conclusion? See Spot run. Run, Spot, run. Down the rollforth land, yonder horizonways. I just want to read more weird stuff.
ty @bigbootsmanofwarwrites for the tag i love tag game :))
slowburn or love at first sight // fake dating or secret dating // enemies to lovers or best friends to lovers // there’s only one bed or long-distance correspondence // hurt/comfort or amnesia // fantasy au or modern au // mutual pining or domestic bliss // smut or fluff // canon-compliant or fix-it // reincarnation or character death // one-shot or multi-chapter // kid fic or road trip fic // arranged marriage or accidental marriage // high-school romance or middle-age romance // time travel or isolated together // neighbors or roommates // sci-fi au or magic au // body swap or genderbent // angst or crack // apocalyptic or mundane // happy ending or unhappy ending
im relatively new to pitt tumblr so i dont rly have many ppl to tag... but if u see this feel free to participate :))
