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a magical girl transformation except the song is toss a coin to your witcher and i get muscles and armor and two swords
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so. we know that TMAGP is set in 2024. so far we have seen blog posts, forum posts, cctv, an e-mail. and we know that instagram live exists in universe.
How much time until we get a statement via tiktok storytime?
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Feeling like a sims 1 sim.
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Strange Bird
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He’s walking past me on the way to the bathroom. I catch his arm. “Are you bleeding?”
-Simon, Wayward Son by @rainbowrowell
I started drawing this ages ago, but only recently, with Rainbow’s tweets about AWTWB being about emotional and physical intimacy, did I think it was time to finish it. This is one of those unsung intimate moments between Simon and Baz in Wayward Son, notable for all the ways it shows that there is indeed intimacy there, but it’s stunted by their individual issues. Baz resists being undressed because it will reveal both his indestructibility and his wounds. Simon wants to comfort Baz but has no idea how to cross that threshold. And yet, despite everything, the wounds are laid bare and Simon’s hands are coated in the evidence of their inescapable proximity to each other.
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WAYWARD SON SPOILER WARNING.
“I don’t know if he’ll hear me over everything.” - Simon, Chapter 41, Wayward Son by @rainbowrowell
I’m so pleased to finally share this 4-spread sequential artwork inspired by Chapter 41 of Wayward Son. I kept words as sparse as possible to ensure I’m not infringing on the book’s copyright, but the words featured here were handlettered by the talented and generous @penpanoply. Thank you so much for lending your skills to this project, Jeska.
About the art:
I started sketching this scene almost immediately upon finishing the book, as the poetry of it had completely blown me away. In particular, I was moved by the subtext at work in this scene—that Simon and Baz’s relationship in WS on the whole had the same qualities as riding precariously in the back of a truck on a rough road, leaving them struggling to be heard over the noise, struggling to touch one another in a way that actually conveys what they intend. The ride is too rough, and the wind, too loud.
And yet, they find a way to embrace each other through it. The ride is such an effective metaphor for what it’s like to love someone through trauma, depression, and anxiety: the loss of what was once easy and natural between you and the one you love, in exchange for turbulence that requires so much more effort and care to navigate. It knocked the wind out of me to read it.
For the art, I’ve tried to hit milestones you’ll recognize. I’ve kept everything monochrome but the rear tail lights, which are in a bright fire-engine red, to underscore the anxiety that they’re muscling through in this scene. In the absence of narration, I’ve tried also to make their faces as true to the original as it’s within my skill to do, leaving some ambiguity in some of their expressions so that you can’t quite tell if they’re feeling pleasure or pain.
I did my best, and I hope it shows. To those who celebrate, Merry Christmas, and thank you, Rainbow, for painting the original version of this scene in such beautiful words.
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Hat
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“Guys!” Bunce shrieks. “We are literally fleeing a crime. And also still in Middle America.”
- Wayward Son by @rainbowrowell
A year ago today, this scene was making me especially happy. 💙💛
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its so fucked up how difficult it is to move to another country you shouldn’t need a reason or anything you should be able to show up at the border and be like “the vibes were off back home” and they should let you in
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No one fucking understands how rejection sensitive dysphoria feels, because I think if they did, they would be less willing to trigger it when people are innocently minding their own business thinking their friendships are okay.
Do you know what it’s like, feeling like your heart’s being ripped out your chest when you go to message a friend, only to find out you’re blocked? Do you have any idea what it’s like, being suddenly unable to breathe as panic rushes through you, as you try to contact the other people to ask if everything’s okay, what might have happened, what you need to fix, only to never get a response? Do you know what it’s like to go to mutual friends to ask for advice, only to be told harshly that you’re “too needy”, or to have that mutual friend block you too?
And on top of all of that, you don’t know what you did wrong. You really don’t. No one came to you beforehand about anything you must have said or did that made them upset. No one gave you that chance to apologize and try to fix whatever went wrong. 
No, they would rather abandon you, knowing that they’ll be triggering this feeling inside of you, and you’re left to sink to the floor in hysterical tears, your mental health spiraling downwards so fast that you wish you were dead. Your whole body hurts, like it’s been trampled, and you can’t stop crying until your head is pounding, and you can’t breathe, and still you don’t know what you did wrong! 
And then the paranoia sets in, wondering who’s next, wishing you knew what to do to prevent this from happening again, desperate to bend over backwards to make sure the people you see as friends won’t abandon you next.
How am I supposed to fix what went wrong if no one is willing to communicate?
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rasputin didnt become a fucked up sex wizard until he was like 30. your life doesn't end at 25 <3
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heart: *develops feelings* brain : no nO NO NOOO (chorus:no no no) stick to the status quo
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awake at 4 am i gotta remind myself that none of the emotioions im experiencing rightnow are peer reviewed
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cannot stress enough how insane it's making me that we're witnessing some of the best domestic policy in decades at the same time as the worst foreign policy atrocity since the wars in Iraq and Afghanistan
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