My name's Nick, I'm 27, and what's a blog theme? @yriafehtivan - Tumblr Blog

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mattgrayyes

T H U R S D A Y

catsuggest

Cat, what do you suggest for someone who had a really bad day?

worry not for im know somebeody whom is expert in vanquishinge bad days

catsuggest

he is beinge summoned. remain calmb

catsuggest

cousin bartók is arrivinge imminently !

catsuggest

cousin bartók have arrived bearinge mighty furs & soothinge gift of moss. bad days are now vanquished permanentlé

afurioushawk

frustratedasatruar

Real and growing possibility of him dying live on tv and nobody in the room noticing for minutes on end.

Likes charge, reblogs cast.

drarry

Imagine being the gays at a pride event in 2004 living their lives when someone grabs the microphone and announces to the room that Ronald Reagan was pronounced dead. Can you even imagine the hype, the celebration, the pure elation

drarry

This is the Pride Month that It will happen. I feel it in my gay bones

broken-horn-of-equius

whydidisavethistomyphone

Like to charge

Reblog to cast

aropride

please god let chatgpt die out like nfts did. With a fast and graceless fall into irrelevancy

bladespark

Like to charge, reblog to cast.

atwotonedbird

This spell has a very low hit ratio, so we need a lot of us to do it.

cherryhatter-deactivated2015072

KICK THE CAN!

Let’s play the biggest game of kick the can on the internet.

To kick the can, reblog it. I wanna see how long this can go on for.

visibun

the oldest reblogs for this post that i can find are from january 2nd of 2013. this can has been getting kicked around tumblr for almost 13½ years now

drtanner

And yet somehow this is my first time kicking it!

bff0f7

so can we start hunting down white liberals now or what

adamtheredbeard

The full picture is even more heart breaking after you open the uncropped version. Just a heads-up, it's rough

“The Roman Catholic Parish in Saskatoon, Saskatchewan was just grafitted.”

afronerdism

Nah let’s post it. Let’s feel it. Don’t look away.

doobiebenson

butch-bakugo

I notice alot of my followers on here skipping these posts just to mess with my lgbt ones, suspiciously the white popular ones.

Heres a not so friendly reminder, as an lgbt metis person, i dont give a single fuck what your blog is themed or if this is too painful for you to look at. Reblog this post. Reblog this post with the sources of the 751 children who were found.

Your compliance and silence as well as the compliance and silence of your ancestors is what allowed these schools to open and kill first nations children. The children of MY people.

Dont follow me if you cant reblog this post or the one with sources to your political blog or your most popular blog. Add trigger warnings if you must but if your political blog is only focused on the harms you personally face like being lgbt then you need to see some bigger pictures and stop being afraid of angering your racist mutural or actually saying some shit about racism. If you can reblog some antifa graphics or add blm to your bio to be a surface level ally, you can reblog some sources on the genocide first nations people faced and still face today.

They were CHILDREN.

They were murdered in cold blood.

churchoftheconfusedchicken

I’d like to add this photo I took last night in Victoria of the statue of Captain Cook. Though I myself am not indigenous, I 100% agree that these murderers, kidnappers and rapists shouldn’t have huge statues and plaques that decorate them and say how “great” they were.

Here’s another photo of the legislative assembly from yesterday. Later on there were more items, candles and signs at the memorial, as well as a big poster with 1505 painted on it but I didn’t get a picture

People need to see this. Not just quickly glance at the photos and keep on scrolling. They need to see this.

Reblog this or just stop following me

ifiknewiwouldtellyou

I had seen the first picture of the church, but not the second.

I went to a “Cancel Canada Day” event and burst into tears - not because I was surprised to learn of the unmarked graves (survivors told us they were there. Our government pushed it aside, and we let them), but because seeing all the people gathered in mourning drove it home: They. Were. Children.

This is my country’s legacy - and it’s not history. The last schools closed during my lifetime. My Father went to school with students who lived at the local residential school, after it was changed to a boarding house (read: holding centre) for indigenous youth who went to local schools.

They were all children, injured, abused, and killed in my country’s attempt to erase them. I want the world to see this and hold the state accountable to *active* reconciliation> I mean we could at least truly adopt UNDRIP in action instead of words for god’s sake.

gayvampyr

here you can read an article about a survivor of the church and some of the things he experienced to help put into perspective how awful and just how recent it was

nothingweirdhere

this is the memorial at the vancouver art gallery. 215+ pairs of children’s shoes (as well as stuffed toys and flowers) cover the steps…

miyamiwu

Pros of reblogging:

You get to keep a copy of that post FOREVER. Tumblr is not like Twitter in that if OP deletes the original post, all the shared versions of the post will be deleted as well. This is how Tumblr still has posts from 100000 years ago circulating around.

You get to classify posts with your own tagging system. It makes finding things easier. Searching a blog using tags is also more reliable than searching with keywords.

You get to leave comments in the tags of the reblog! It’s handy when you wanna react to the post but are too shy to talk to OP and/or others in the reblog chain.

You get an archive/scrapbook of all the things you like, which you can then showcase with pretty custom themes.

You get to identify as part of a community. Among fandom blogs, fellow fans will know you’re one of them if you actually reblog things. Any outsider can leave a like, but it takes a fan or someone really interested in something to dare to reblog.

You get to make friends! People follow other people based on what their blog is like. If your blog is empty, then what’s the point of following you?

You give the impression that you care about what other people say, and it will make others look at you more nicely (empty blogs can be suspicious).

You are less likely to be blocked by artists/writers. (I’ve seen some posts from artists/writers saying that they’ll block spam likers.)

You are less likely to be mistaken as a bot or a creep (again, empty blogs are sus).

mortalityplays

so I spent a lot of last year working with / around this local activist group mostly made up of your typical ambiently queer, ambiently leftist college students. like every loose affinity group it struggled with the sort of unpredictable fluctuating capacity problem of most participants being tied to day jobs or college term times, variously disabled, turning up when they could make it and then vanishing for months at a time. it's to be expected with that kind of organising but it does also make for kind of a pain in the neck.

anyway this particular group does (or did?) have kind of a nucleus of very committed members who were more tight knit and ended up taking on a lot of the practical work themselves. they were your more serious vanguard party type communists, very much structure and role enjoyers, which is probably why things eventually played out the way they did. they took their commitments seriously and were constantly sort of irked that others saw the voluntary nature of the group as a reason to deprioritise it in favour of what might be life necessities but are still basically capitalist pursuits. fair, maybe.

about this time last summer, that inner circle apparently decided to get more serious about recruitment and figure out how to do outreach in a way that would bring in more committed membership to reliably spread the workload. the way these things go, a couple of these guys had originally met through a local gay bar's drag nights (specifically the drag king circuit) so one of the first things they did was draft in another friend who did marketing for those events already and get him pushing for more eyeballs on their event listings via twitter and instagram.

now, bar guy was very very good at this. one of his big innovations was the idea of using club promoter type strategies to get more students more consistently engaged with the group's activities. that basically meant appointing some of the more active members as 'outreach officers' and encouraging them to do things like organise socials for new volunteers and train those people in turn as recruiters, with a tiny bit of a floating budget for pot lucks and house parties every couple of months.

this worked astonishingly well, like beyond anyone's wildest expectations. at a certain point they had brand new members throwing their own parties just to introduce their friends to the people who recruited them, who in turn had been recruited by the volunteers the outreach officers trained. it worked so well that it got to be a problem because most of these newer members were also relatively new to organising and didn't have a whole lot of theory. it was getting very vibes based and suddenly there was a huge influx of people to handle who most original members didn't know. and also, because they'd asked a gay guy who promoted gay club nights to organise all this peer-to-peer recruitment, it turned out almost all the new members were gay men.

in itself that's not necessarily a problem, but obviously it presents a challenge for a group that's supposed to be open and diverse. especially because outside of the little clique who started all this, most of the old guard were not gay men. it didn't blow up into the kind of messy schism it could have, fortunately, but a lot of the older members (especially those who were less into the hardline soviet-nostalgia communist utopianism of the main organisers) decided around this point that they didn't feel the group was a good fit for them any more, and split.

so now the inner circle had a new problem. the remaining group was overwhelmingly now made up of very sweet well intentioned young gay men who wanted to volunteer with this cool voluntary circle of other young gay men who liked to party, and vanishingly few of them actually knew a whole lot about mao or lenin or the practicalities of community organising or what have you. but club guy was like "don't worry I've got this", and suddenly out of nowhere started producing all this orientation literature and politics 101 material that he was chain emailing to his army of new recruits and recruiters. like he just had all this shit ready to go. he had slogans, he had essays, he had these weird point by point breakdowns of what karl marx would have to say about your college courses and why communism was like actually a lot like bdsm if you think about it.

you will probably not be shocked to learn that it very quickly came out he had been generating all this shit with chatgpt. the group went into absolute meltdown, the vanguard party shut down their website and disassociated themselves completely from the whole mess, and the last I heard they're back to organising with some of the older group members and whoever turns up whenever they turn up. but club guy was unrepentant, he'd already sent out all his ideologyslop to his recruiters, who had sent it to their guys who sent it to their guys, who I guess are still out there recruiting twinks into the fully automated contentless communism mill,

or the MLM MLM LLM MLM if you're nasty.

creatingblackcharacters

Is it okay for nonblack people to casually say the n word?

Yes

No, but- (nuance)

Voting ended onMay 25

It seems we are not all on the same page about this, and I would genuinely like to know why. I thought the answer was obvious, but mayhaps we didn't all grow up with that understanding.

creatingblackcharacters

Is it difficult to not say the n-word as a nonblack person?

Yes

No, but- (nuance)

Voting ended onMay 25

Like is there a temptation? A benefit? A gain that one might receive by saying it while nonblack?

creatingblackcharacters

Final question!

Would you trust a nonblack person who casually says/said the n-word?

(Black users only!)- Yes

(Black users only!)- No

(Black users only!)- Depends

(Everyone else)- Yes

(Everyone else)- No

(Everyone else)- Depends

Voting ended onMay 25

If you believe that person is still trustworthy, why so? If you don't, why so?

creatingblackcharacters

Lot of votes on this with not an equivalent amount of shares lmao folks are not trying to find out about their peers huh 🤣 it can be scary!

dozydawn

nimble, a border collie-papillon mix, wins the 12” class in the 2024 masters agility championship. the first time a mixed breed has won at westminster ever.

ch40s0w1

context explaining why the announcer is screaming, this is supposed to take a high level competitive agility dog 40 seconds

sandersstudies

This video makes me cry every time it’s on my dash and I can’t even iterate why.

Like the dog doesn’t even know it’s a competition and she’s made history. She(?) just is happy and knows she made her owner happy too.

solely-ashes

The face of a being with only a wind storm between their ears, moments before unleashing it unto the world

severeprincesheep

always a pleasure to see this girl on my dashboard

thebibliosphere

I feel like I say this ad nauseam, but every time I worry I'm too annoying about promoting my work, someone always comments something along the lines of "I've been following you for over a decade, what do you mean you wrote an international bestselling book?"

And I'm like, welp, time to reblog some stuff, I guess ᕕ( ᐛ )ᕗ

spacecluster

You what

thebibliosphere

I... okay, hold on. I've got a copy-paste response for this...

(ID in alt)

Hi, I'm Joy Demorra, international bestselling author and general disaster.

This is my book. Hunger Pangs: True Love Bites is the first book in the Hunger Pangs series, a queer, polyamorous, paranormal, gaslamp slow-burn romance featuring vampires, werewolves, and various other creatures that go bump in the night.

It started out life as a Tumblr shit post and became an international bestseller within several hours of pre-orders going up. No one was more surprised than me.

It features Nathan, a deaf, disabled werewolf newly returned from war, and Vlad, a neurodivergent mad scientist vampire trying to unionize the workforce of the island in between tripping over all his various ongoing projects. (free healthcare, free schooling, y’know, small hobbies)

The other main character is Ursula, an all-powerful [REDACTED] working to save the world from imminent ecological disaster. The main romance arc of book one focuses on Vlad x Nathan, with Ursula forming her own relationships with them alluded to in the next book.

No love triangles here. Just three highly competent bisexuals sharing the same brain cell the closer they are to each other.

The world is set in a pseudo-regency meets fake Victorian Gaslamp Fantasy world, complete with gothic castles, enchanted forests, and just a smidge of industrial coal dust.

One of my favorite reviews ever described it as "the queer, goth love child of Terry Pratchett meets Jane Austen," so if that sounds interesting to you, you can check out my links below.

Buy the (high heat) Flirting With Fangs Edition Here.

Buy the (medium heat) Fluff and Fangs Edition Here.

Why are there two versions, and what's the difference between them? Glad you asked! You can also find content tags on my website at www.joydemorra.com if you want to find out more.

I'd put them on the book itself, but Amazon would pitch a fit.

So, yeah. I wrote a book. I'm writing several more. I'm just recovering from almost dying in the same year I published the book. Because that was also a thing. Anyway. ✨Book✨

thebibliosphere

#OP should write a book — good news!

transsexula

OP if you see this, could you let me know who made the cover art?? Its beautiful! Did you make it yourself, or hire someone? (Tried scrolling your FAQ and such for info but wasn't able to find anything, sorry if this has been asked before!)

thebibliosphere

Thank you for asking! All of my illustrations are done by @ryehickman with the rest of the cover design (text, formatting, placements etc) done by @roselarkpublishing (who are also my editors)

I've actually got merch made by @ryehickman that I need to find the health and time to actually sit down put up on my Payhip.

It's beautiful and I fully recommend checking out all of Rye's work.

I know you didn't ask but I like promoting people, and @audasaurusart is also my map maker for the hardbacks.

I like to hire from within my community and Tumblr is my community :)

pftones3482

Commission for @yriafehtivan. Percabeth fluff ahoy (I haven’t written them in so long, this was such a treat). They’re about 24 in this. Under a cut for length.

Annabeth had been tossing and turning in bed for hours, watching through blurry vision as the numbers on the digital clock next to the bed flipped slowly towards three am. Percy was sound asleep next to her, snoring and drooling as per the usual, and she wished she could have joined him.

It had been over seven years since the whole Tartarus fiasco, but sometimes, especially after a bad day, Annabeth found it hard to sleep without visions of demons and monsters crisscrossing her dreams.

Careful not to wake Percy, she slipped out of bed with a resigned sigh, tugging her robe on over her pajamas and shuffling into her slippers. She ducked out of the bedroom, absentmindedly pulling her now-ratty hair into a ponytail at the nape of her neck.

The floorboards creaked softly under her feet until she reached the kitchen, where the wood shifted to tile and became completely silent. Annabeth crossed to the cupboards, moving by feel alone, and pulled out a mug. The refrigerator gave her just enough light to make herself a single cup of coffee, which she promptly dumped a pound of sugar and creamer into and carried out onto the front porch, spoon clinking against the ceramic.

The sky was inky black, and the ocean waves battered against the sand with a comforting crashing sound, one that Annabeth had grown to adore over the years. She sank down onto their porch swing and tugged her knees up with her, adjusting the robe with one hand and holding the coffee out with the other so it wouldn’t spill.

This close to the ocean there was less light pollution, so they could see the stars, see the constellations that speckled the sky. Annabeth sipped at her coffee slowly, burning her tongue as always, and gazed over them, pausing on certain ones and giving a soft smile. The swing rocked under her gently, almost non-existent, and she leaned with it on instinct.

Her fingers curled around the mug as the sea breeze lifted and curled around her, whisking her loose curls across her face and sending a pleasant chill down her spine. She tucked into herself even more and lifted the mug to her lips, staring at the faint outline of the tide stretching across the sand.

The moment they had graduated from college, she and Percy had moved here, to Montauk, fixing up the cabin (or rather, she redesigned certain parts and he helped her with it) and making it a permanent home for them. Sally had bought the cabin after she married Paul and had kept taking care of the place, even after all the years away from it. She had been happy to sign the property over to them.

Annabeth had been wary, to say the least, about moving in with Percy for good. It was one thing to live at the same camp, or to go to the same school. Living together was permanent, in a way. But they both agreed that they wanted to stay close to camp, help out with any half-bloods that might need them, and Percy had insisted they be close to the water. She didn’t blame him.

The breeze kicked up again, salt biting at her lips, and something in her twisted, wanted to move. Her feet clunked to the floor and she set her mug on the table next to the swing, stepping out of her slippers and wrapping her robe firmly around her body. For mid-September, it was chilly out, but the sand was still soothingly warm when she reached it. The young woman sighed and, for a moment, breathed, completely still, the wind buffering her body. She crossed the beach all the way down to the water until it licked at her ankles, the liquid freezing compared to the ground, and she tilted her gaze back up to stare at the stars.

Annabeth wasn’t sure how long she had been standing there when the water pulled back from her feet, just enough for her to realize that they were numb. She wasn’t too surprised when Percy’s arms enveloped her from behind, cautiously, like he didn’t want to scare her. She appreciated it, and leaned back against his chest with a sigh.

He tightened his grip on her and kissed her temple. “You okay?”

Keep reading

pftones3482

Symptoms

Commission for @yriafehtivan, asking for something Annabeth focused from PJO. I hope this qualifies!! Thank you again!

(Note: they’re about 26 here)

Under a cut for length.

When Annabeth stepped out of the bedroom, she found Percy dancing around the kitchen in a pair of boxers and a t-shirt, a batter-covered rubber spatula held to his lips as he dramatically belted out the chorus for “I Will Always Love You” by Whitney Houston. He was a terrible singer, and they both knew it, but that didn’t stop Annabeth from grinning and leaning against the doorjamb until he noticed her there.

His eyes lit on her after a moment and his lips quirked into a smile as he held his hand out, wedding ring glinting in the early morning sun that was streaming through the windows. She chuckled and took the outstretched fingers, letting him spin her into his arms and dip her low. The spatula in his hand came dangerously close to swiping across her cheek in the process, and Annabeth shoved it away before it could get all over her.

Percy seemed to take that as a challenge and, leaving Whitney to warble in the background for a few moments, proceeded to chase Annabeth through the kitchen with the dripping spatula until finally he cornered her by the silverware drawer.

“I have you now, Annabeth Jackson-Chase,” he teased, wielding the spatula like it was Riptide.

Annabeth cocked an eyebrow. “You realize I am standing in front of the one drawer in the house that consists ONLY of sharp knives, right?”

Percy snorted and tossed the spatula back into the bowl, splattering some of the batter onto the counter in the process. “Fair enough,” he declared, swooping Annabeth back into his grasp and pressing a kiss to her forehead. “Sleep okay?”

Annabeth frowned and pressed her cheek to his chest, arms twining around his hips. “Kind of. That Chinese last night did not agree with me.”

“To be fair, you did eat four egg rolls.”

“You had literally two pounds of orange chicken,” Annabeth countered in defense. “If anyone should be getting sick, it’s you!”

Percy snickered and pulled away from her, going back to stirring the pancake batter. Annabeth grabbed a frying pan for him and set it onto the stove. “What can I say?” Percy joked, pouring the batter into even circles around the pan. “I’m just that great.”

“Keep telling yourself that,” Annabeth chuckled.

He threw a towel at her.

Keep reading

pftones3482

Cravings

Commission for @yriafehtivan, who is absolutely wonderful and I love writing things for them. Kind of a follow up to the last one I did for them, but you don’t need to read that to understand this. Just know that Annabeth is pregnant.

Spoiler alert: since I’m following canon, and since the latest TOA book just dropped…there will be minor (and major) spoilers. If you haven’t read it and don’t want to be spoiled, don’t read ahead.

Under a cut for both length and spoilers. Ft. PJO characters I think even Rick has forgotten about.

Six Weeks

It was two in the morning, and Annabeth really, really wanted those cookies that they had at the bakery in New Rome. Little dollops of peanut butter cookies with chocolate chips in the middle and maybe just a massive amount of whipped cream slathered on top.

Yeah. That was it.

“Hey. Hey Percy.”

She poked his shoulder repeatedly until he groaned and nuzzled his face further into his pillow. “Percy, I want cookies.”

“There are Oreos in the cupboard,” he grumbled into the fabric.

“Noooo,” she whined, well aware that she was being irritating. “I want good cookies!”

“Annabeth it’s-” a pause as he squinted at the bedside clock- “two in the morning. Nothing is open.”

“New Rome is.”

“That’s on the other side of the country, babe.”

“Just text Hazel. Or Frank. Or Reyna. Pleeeeeaaassssse?”

“What do you propose they do, send it over through an Iris message?”

Annabeth frowned, running a hand over her chin. “Is that a thing? That should be a thing.”

“It’s not, and there’s no way you’re getting those cookies tonight. I’m sorry, hon.”

Annabeth huffed and flopped back on the pillow, rolling onto her side. Percy inched up behind her, slinging an arm around her hip and letting his fingers drift over her stomach. “They’re acting up, huh?”

She snorted and leaned back into his warmth, letting her eyes shut. “That’s an understatement. This baby is going to have a sweet tooth.”

Keep reading