#it means

[redhairandpronouns]

i've been called a mra blog and i think the key difference is mra dipshits are "advocating" for men's rights over women, whereas i'm advocating for men's rights over Their Own Fucking Bodies/Lives

[welcometosasakiworld]

DPXDC prompt #63

First? Every ghost and their grandma knows the Al Ghul family.

Second? The Lazarus Pits are lakes of the purest form of ectoplasm. And very sought-after.

Now, many ghost wondered why Phantom was so powerful when they found out he was recently dead. Now they know, when Ra 'i use lazarus water for my daily skincare routine' Al Ghul comes visit his great grandson.

Ra is here because his favorite great grandson, Tariq, asked him to teach him how to manage the ghost version of the League of Assassins.

[tompiexd]

Okay, okay, okay. I was just scrolling through Mario Movie stuff in Vietnamese and I came across another Vietnamese subbed trailer for Mario Galaxy Movie. This one's subtitle was different from the one on YT and other platforms. In this scene, Luigi called Bowser "Ê Bé Bự"/"Hey Big Baby" instead of "Này, anh giai"/"Hey, Big Vro" ? 😭

"Bé Bự" can be meant as "Big Baby" in a Platonic way, as in, between family members. BUT THERE'S THE CRAZY PART. VIETNAMESE DO NOT CALL FRIENDS WHO ARE AROUND THE SAME AGES AS EACH OTHER "BÉ". IT WAS MAINLY USED AS A FLIRT, A PET NAME BETWEEN COUPLES. It was similar to "Babe"!! So in this scene, Luigi called Bowser "Big Babe"... It can be seen in a family way, or that way. It's up to your interpretation. 😌🫶🧡💚

[killjoy-laserbeam]

Live footage of me watching any scene where Sebastian is proud of Ciel/ happy with him.

[teenytinydinosaurs]

Almost Loved

They smiled, I hoped. They blinked, I bled. They laughed—and thunder crowned my head. A brush of fingers, and I dreamed, of love in places it never gleamed.

I fall too fast, too deep, too wide, I pour my oceans, then they hide. A glance, a word—a borrowed spark, and I’m already naming every dark.

No vows were made, no strings were tied, just evenings where the stars had lied. A seat beside them, never "mine," a season missed, a warped timeline.

I am the bouquet none would choose— petals in shades of loss and bruise. Fragrant still, in tender doom, a relic dressed in aching bloom.

Pressed in pages no one reads, tied with threads of unmet needs. And still I stay—too sweet to curse, too soft to name the ways it hurts.

My grief? That old, exquisite sting— la douleur exquise with clipped wings. Not heartbreak loud or sorrow sung, but silence stretched across my lungs.

Loving you? A velvet doom. A self-inflicted, quiet gloom. A sip of fire laced with grace, a tear that never left my face.

You flirted like you meant the stars— then vanished with your unseen scars. And I, too gentle to demand, just let my love slip through your hand.

Perhaps I'm Tinker Bell, alight— forever burning out of sight. Faithful winged and sugar-spun, but Peter Pan always picks the sun.

So if you flirt, then mean it whole— don’t haunt the corners of my soul. And if I linger in your head, know this: I bloomed in love, but was never fed.

[patchworkpockets]

Meet my Fell Flowey turned OC, Dente! He's angsty edgy traumatized aaaaand my favorite little guy

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]