jellatink

yippy yapper! with a love for almost everything

[yoshikaru-reblog-factory]

Part of me thinks that on some level, Hikaru may have had his suspicions about Yoshiki's true feelings for him, he just never confronted them. Pretended like everything was normal between them. Because if his friend really was gay, that would mean he's a freak, an outcast that Hikaru can't be seen associating with. He isn't personally disgusted by it, but he has been taught his whole life that he has to fit this very particular societal role that has been carved out for him generations ago, a role that makes no room at all for a gay friend. So for both their sakes, he pretends he doesn't notice the way Yoshiki's eyes linger on him a bit too long

[limpidose]

This is probably what it is for so many people in real life :((

[imjabbingit]

[thisismypage28]

Zenitsu: Goddamn it, the printer broke while printing out Tanjirou's birthday invitations.

Nezuko: Well, what are they supposed to say?

Zenitsu: "Tanjirou's birthday".

Nezuko: So, what do they say instead?

Zenitsu: "Tanjirou’s bi".

Nezuko:

Nezuko: Works out either way.

[misscromwellsmonocle]

The New American Gothic (2017) by Criselda Vasquez

[gracklesong]

From Criselda Vasquez's Instagram (3 April 2026):

Donate to Help Bring My Father Home from ICE Detention, organized by Jorge V

Hi everyone, Thank you for taking the time to read this. On Tuesday, March 31,… Jorge V needs your support for Help Bring My Father Home

[limpidose]

The Sun

I was flipping through my notebook/journal and I came across some writing that I probably wrote 2 years ago. It seemed decent enough to share so here we go! (What I've written below is a tweaked and revised version of my original writing.)

-One- ☆

The world used to be a chromatic shade of black and white.

The heavy atmosphere which filled the air, was the regret suffocating my very lungs.

Lungs adapt and change. Now when the glimmering rays of sunshine trace the sharp unrelenting edges of my skin, I feel its thorns prick and leave in its place, a violent, fascinating stream of red.

-Two-　☆

Crimson red. Shame and anger. How do I feel anything else? If it was born, within me, shame and anger?

My walls tainted in unyielding crimson red, carved by sharp decisive claws; clawing at the paint that has settled long ago, in the deepest pits of my guilty heart.

-Three-　　☆

Faint shimmers of gold.

The magic dust dotted almost like nature in your fingerprints.

Shining like the Sun.

-Four-　　　☆

I'm afraid of the sun.

The lingering feeling of its heat burns me up.

I burn. For...you...?

-Five- 　　　　☆

All in the glorious shine of the sun.

Everybody loves the sun. Me being the only exception.

But bit by bit, almost as if by infallible attraction,

I've come to love bathing under the streaks of the sun.

[casualjuicebox]

Stomach acid

I have cut myself up into pieces, trying to comfort the people I've loved,

I have served myself out on a silver platter,

Bread and butter along with my meat,

And they have eaten.

They have filled their guts with what they needed,

They have taken like they were starved, leaving me as bone.

There the pieces of me shriveled up in their stomachs,

Begging for a hand to hold, yet they ask for more.

And even when I have nothing left to comfort the growl of their hunger I try,

I try in hopes maybe there will be love for me in the pit of their digestive system,

Somewhere for me to pretend they have eaten all I had left as a way to express their satisfaction with me,

A way to tell me I've done well,

I've done good.

And here in this pit alone, I can pretend they are happy with me while the tears flow from partly acidified eyes.

Painting by: Terrineku

[limpidose]

This is a beautiful analogy of life in the way that sometimes we are like food to the people we meet.

Chew me up, spit me out. But I can no longer take back what has been spat out, so it's just left there to rot on the sidewalk.

Or perhaps take bits and pieces of me, and eat them. Digest them. And then shit it all out. Nothing is left, both inside and out.

But sometimes we run into people who take the best or maybe worst parts of us, cut them out, and turn them into something beautiful, something worthwhile. I guess it's about sacrifice and contribution.

Even just a taste of me, may linger in your mind for the rest of your life. Even after it's all gone.

Humans really are like food. (metaphorically ofc... 🤨)

[postbyline]

My heart is yours alone, even if you devour it (sa'yo lang ang puso ko, kahit kainin mo)

[limpidose]

I'm actually so interested in the natural vs artificial diamond debate. A few months ago, I saw a documentary on Netflix about the immense controversy and speculation surrounding artificial diamonds and it really had me thinking. To be frank, I think it's a very nice philosophical discussion to keep in the back of our minds. Personally if I ever bought any diamonds, I'd want them to be natural. But that's just my own preference. I think there's so much beauty in even just the formation of diamonds itself. When you carry a natural diamond with you, it's like you're having a piece of the earth and a piece of time by your side.

Then again, the only difference between natural and artificial diamonds is the time and conditions in which they were formed. But I think that for me personally, that is what makes me love and appreciate natural diamonds even more. However, I wouldn't question someone with a preference for artificial ones. At their core, they are all pretty much the same anyway.

Thoughts?

(Also if I am wrong about anything scientific related, I am open to constructive criticism and corrections.) ^-^

[dismoondart]

friendly sleepover

[limpidose]

Sleepover by Hayley Kiyoko....👀 "You will never understand, even when you brush my hair, I just feel alone, feel alone."

[latesketch]

[anodymalion]

The Summer Hikaru Died is like. what if you believed you were a disgusting monster for being gay. but then you meet a real monster, and over time you start to believe that even this monster deserves to be safe and happy, and it's the first time you start allowing yourself to believe that maybe you do too. what if I cried one million tears forever

[limpidose]

The Summer Hikaru Died

光るが死んだ夏 | Content: writing, almost like a diary? From Yoshiki's POV

I think about you once or maybe twice, too many times, before I go to sleep at night / Now every time I shut my eyes, I dream of you and all that we could've been / Resting in your might / Maybe its just the universe telling me I won't ever love somebody else, somebody who isn't you, no body unlike you / I'd know who you are in death, in my sleep / Walking your way towards me, but my knees feel weak / Is this who I'm supposed to be?

The idea of you is enough for me to hold another's hand / and play pretend / Pretend that nothing has changed, or that we're still the same / Good friends without an end.

Blue spring, come back to me / and maybe we could be / all that you promised me / I can no longer see my future, it feels like a concept as distant as the North Sea / How can I move on, if all my plans were involving us? / How can I see? / Without your light illuminating me.

I imagine you are somewhere in the universe / Your last breath as gentle as your kiss / As sacred as a curse / or a promise left unkept / in the air / everywhere.