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#hmm I love it!!
rissaito · 23 days
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“don’t cry, my child”
i was thinking about how venti canonically refers to the people of mondstadt as his “children” and how kaeya is included in that… then the brainrot took over and then i thought, what if when kaeya was a little kid and he felt lonely sometimes, venti would decide to shapeshift back into his little wind sprite form to comfort him…
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I love how on Tumblr, "media literacy" has become "Um, just because someone writes about this doesn't mean they're endorsing this. I hate all these media puritans ruining everything."
I'm sad to inform you that knowing when and whether an author is endorsing something, implying something, saying something, is also part of media literacy. Knowing when they are doing this and when they're not is part of media literacy. Assuming that no author has ever endorsed a bad thing is how you fall for proper gander. It's not media literacy to always assume that nobody ever has agreed with the morally reprehensible ideas in their work.
Sometimes, authors are endorsing something, and you need to be aware when that happens, and you also need to be aware when you're doing it as an author. All media isn't horny dubcon fanfic where you and the author know it's problematic IRL but you get off to it in the privacy of your brain. Sometimes very smart people can convince you of something that'll hurt others in the real world. Sometimes very dumb people will romanticize something without realizing they're doing it and you'll be caught up in it without realizing that you are.
Being aware of this is also media literacy. Being aware of the narrative tools used to affect your thinking is media literacy. Deciding on your own whether you agree with an author or not is media literacy. Enjoying characters doing bad things and allowing authors to create flawed or cruel characters for the sake of a story is perfectly fine, but it is not the same as being media literate. Being smug about how you never think an author has bad intentions tells me you're edgy, not that you're media literate. You can't use one rule to apply to all media. That's not how media literacy works. Sorry! Sorry! Sorry! Aheem heem. Anyway.
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critterbitter · 4 months
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Sometimes, you realize how long somebody’s been there for you and you want some emotional vulnerability as a treat.
(Bonus)
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Link to the rest of their shenanigans!
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obsob · 1 year
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despite, despite, despite!!
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auuwmk · 2 months
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orv.....
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deep-space-lines · 26 days
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okay but like. I just had the weirdest thought about that ‘don’t look I’m naked’ comic. Which is that that’s essentially the same thing Adam and Eve did after they ate the fruit of knowledge of good&evil. So I feel like the theological implications of that could kneecap Gabe if he doesn’t think V1 is a being with free will.
yeah ok. i dunno man. is this anything
((side note. this isn’t necessarily meant to be in-character or story-accurate or take place at any particular point in time, just a way to explore some Thoughts. i was also imagining more that V1’s words aren't actually spoken, more like Gabriel’s more articulate interpretation of whatever garbled mechanical noise V1 is using to communicate. I think an angel could do that.))
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and then they fucked nasty the end
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aquacomet · 1 month
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Week 7 @daycarefriendpickup magma art! 🐸🌧
Decided this week to doodle up some art of @crabsnpersimmons raincoat Sun and Moon designs from their Rain or shine AU! The designs are super cute so I just had to doodle something up for them!
I wonder if they would make some little froggy friends while splashing in puddles, I can sure imagine they'd have fun hopping along with them!
Live Aqua reaction during breaks:
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aziraphalalala · 8 months
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Hey! Hey, Michael Sheen. Come here. I need to talk to you.
I need to talk to you about what the hell even is your face!!!
Explain yourself immediately. How can you just
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what even are is do
are you a real-life angel because I am not sure it's humanly possible to make actual heart eyes
And yet here you are. OK. But wait, I'm upset and I have more.
Will you please just explain this to me because my brain has decided to permanently cease functioning and I can't
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Excuse you sir
Did you just grab him by the hips and help him walk and THEN just leaned in when he scolded you and made all this in this here expression with your actual face and made me feel things
Without!!! Speaking!!! A. Single. Word!!!!
I am pretty certain you're breaking the UN Human Rights Declaration by doing this sort of acting and breaking our shriveled little shipper hearts.
Yes, you know exactly what you're doing. The notes probably said "fondly", and you went "Aziraphale looks at Crowley and sees the most inviting ox rib in existence" and don't you dare deny it. We see you.
Come answer for your crimes sir
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lemongogo · 5 months
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i just like his long hair ok 🧎
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I think it's so adorable that early humans took wild gourds - a tiny fruit that hollows out as it dries, making it float - and decided to make something out of it
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they thought the tiny fruit was so good that they bred it for thousands of years, making it larger to form into bowls and cups, and different shapes to become bottles and spoons
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and musical instruments
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And then, people took the hollow gourds they farmed, and they turned them into houses for birds. We adapted them into the perfect houses for birds, and now there are specific breeds of birdhouse gourd just for making into birdhouses
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And humans dedicated gardening space and time and thousands of years of breeding to make the gourds so absolutely perfect for birds, that there is a species of bird that lives almost exclusively in them
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somerandomdudelmao · 1 year
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Okay. Look. Listen. Every Casey fanart is somewhere on this scale
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royalarchivist · 6 months
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Pac: Do you think there's other way to find some sharestones over here? Nah, no, right?
Fit: Probably not.
Pac: Maybe. Ah– Fitch! Fitch! [Fit's name with an accent]
Fit: Oh– OH– Pac Pac Pac!
Pac: [In a panicked voice] FITCH!
Fit: Ok, you're good, I got you, I got you. Yeah, just stay over here, stay over here. Behind me, behind me.
Pac: Yeah, I'm good, I'm good, oh my god. [Laughs] I even changed language, you know? [Laughs]
Fit: [Laughs] All right, we got this.
Pac: I start screaming your name in Portuguese.
Fit: [Laughs] As soon as I hear "Fitch", I'm like, "Ohhh boy, sht's about to get real." [Checking his chat messages] Oh, Phil says it's important–
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karoochui · 7 days
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Im gonna make out with your human sun design for LDR /pos
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Thanks the goal is to make him look like he screams at an awkward pitch. Also considering the story im positive he'd make out with you too (he wants u so bad)
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lizaisdrawing · 11 days
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Focus wallace 👁️
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ellitx · 2 months
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Entrapment | Alastor x Reader
Okay, hear me out. Alastor being a darling husband he is with his darling wifey is cute and all, but what about a darling wanting to escape from Alastor himself?
word count: 2.3k
warnings: alastor is enough to be a warning already, depictions of blood and gore, toxic and unhealthy dynamic
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When you were still alive, he always had his eyes on you and controlled you like his little puppet. You hated it, you hated being commanded and controlled for every little thing you did and if you even dared run away from him, he’d always manage to find you. You hate every atomic part of his existence so much that you’d be willing to kill yourself just so you could escape and get that taste of freedom.
But you can’t and he won’t let you.
Alastor would never allow the tip of the knife nor even a simple piece of office equipment reach your hands. And if someone has the audacity to touch his play toy, it’s time to say goodbye.
You know he’s a malicious murderer, and he knows that you know about it. If you’re feeling brave enough to tell it to the police then go ahead, because by the time you report this to them and leave the station, the next day you find yourself throwing up yesterday’s dinner upon hearing the cops were all dead.
No one will ever believe you that the infamous radio host of your city is a murderer. For a puny citizen like you, what power do you hold to convince everyone? They’ll laugh it off and say you’re crazy.
But it’s crazier how they are all deceived by the facade he puts on. His knife plunged into the chest of your coworker, their blood spluttering on his cheek.
Alastor’s wide smile was strained and wicked, the image of the blood dripping from your head and lips when he entered the broadcasting booth was as clear as his collection of polished knives.
The audacity to lay a hand on you and push you down the stairs. Do they have the right to push you off? Of course not! He’s the only one who could torment you until you break!
He’s the only one who could tarnish your being and leave a wounded mark on your soul and heart, a reminder for you there’s no one but himself who could make you so powerless and helpless.
Do they have the right to make you so confused? To put all the blame on you, as if you were the worst person in the world? To try their best to tear you apart piece by piece? Because, after all, it’s always the fault of someone else, right? The audacity to hurt you more than any human has ever hurt another human being before… The nerve to be sure you will never find true happiness again because you're now scarred for life.
He thrust the blade again, the rains of scarlet droplets continued to pour until his face and glasses were doused.
But he didn’t let it hinder him from making sure they were as good as dead. He lifted his head and took a glimpse at the sky above. It was gloomy, gray, and dark. Not much sunshine.
Alastor smiled, stabbing the knife at the corpse's chest before wiping off his glasses with his clean napkin. Then an idea clicked onto him.
It's the perfect time to give you a little visit.
He laughed under his breath and stood up straight.
He knew his outfit was not in good condition, but oh well... Perhaps, he’d instead leave a gift for you on your porch. Oh, how he wished he could make an unexpected appearance, just to witness the shock and horror on your face as Alastor comes to the hospital drenched in a coat of glistening crimson.
The anticipation of your reaction fueled his excitement, the more he thought about it, the bigger his grin became. If this would truly happen, it will surely be a sight to behold.
Still fragile from your time in the hospital, you stepped through the threshold of your home.
You missed the sight of its familiar structure, the only space you feel safe and protected, away from Alastor and your colleagues.
A sense of relief washed over you. The familiar sights and comforting aura of your own space enveloped you like a warm embrace. But something was different, something unexpected awaited you.
There on the polished surface of your entryway sat an elegantly wrapped box, its rich paper adorned with intricate patterns and tied with a luxurious ribbon. Your fingers traced the smooth edges of the packaging and you checked for any signs who sent it. Alas, no name was found.
Who could have left this for you? And why now, upon your return from the hospital?
You had a bad feeling about it.
As you carefully untied the ribbon and peeled back the layers of paper, you stared wide-eyed at the contents hidden within.
Severed limbs, skin deathly pale and stiff.
Your stomach turned violently and you threw the box away from you, the gift spilling across the floor.
"Oh god, oh my god, what the fuck?!"
You were shaking. What was this? Was this a threat? A sick joke? Your heart thudded heavily in your chest, each beat pounding like thunder. You took a step back and stumbled, falling hard to the floor.
It didn't stop there.
Wounds inflicted on every part of your body, the scars on you began to open, rendering the healing done by doctors and nurses useless.
Wounds made by knives, claws, scissors, guns. Every imaginable instrument of torture. You cried out loud. Your voice pierced the quiet of the night, disturbing the tranquility of the neighborhood.
It was a perpetual and horrid nightmare. Just closing your eyes for even a millisecond, the image of his wide creepy smile flashed before you. You could hear his dark cackles, enjoying the sight of your vulnerable form as he tormented you in and out of your work.
“Run as far as you want, dear. In the end, I’ll always be ahead of you.”
The worst part was not knowing when he would strike next. He could appear anywhere at any time.
And it was all because of his sick game.
You didn't know what to do anymore. How long did you have to keep running from him? How many more days did you have to hide from the world? You were so tired of this, tired of having to live in fear of the monster that hunted you.
But God had finally heard your pleas and granted the wish you’ve been wanting for so long. So when the news came to you that the notorious radio host was dead, relief and happiness flooded every vein in your body.
You rejoiced, celebrating the death of the one who had terrorized you for a long time.
The nightmare was finally over.
The radio station was sullen by the news of their popular host, but you didn’t care. Your work became more efficient. You didn’t feel the need to be so wary and anxious by every move you made in the station. You have finally gained your freedom and the chain that was tied to him has shattered.
This was the best thing you could ever ask for.
Even on your deathbed, it was the best dream. Years without Alastor torturing and tormenting you was bliss. A man’s greatest wealth of freedom.
But then, the dream quickly turned into a nightmare, for it was never over. The demon who you thought was dead rose once again. It was only then you realized that he was never human in the first place. He was a monster.
And now, it was you who were caught in his web.
"My, what a wonderful reunion. Did you miss me, darling?”
The demon before you was mysterious.
Unfamiliar.
But his aura and voice screamed for you, the alarms in your body ringing, to run away from him as far as you possibly can.
The wide smile plastered on his face was all too familiar. Too familiar to be hated in the living and the dead. You’d be a fool if you didn’t recognize it.
You knew who he was. You just kept on denying what was the truth, brushing all the facts laid before you beneath the rag, and keeping your pretty little head away from the politics of Hell.
A demon who is powerful, dangerous, and cruel.
A demon who was feared by the other demons in Hell. A demon who is not to be messed with.
Alastor. The Radio Demon.
It was a miracle, or rather a curse, that you were brought back to life. But now you are a prisoner to this Hell. Trapped inside an inescapable cage with a dangerous beast, you could only hope that your second death would come quickly and peacefully.
But it seemed that fate was not on your side, and Alastor was the ever cruel demon. He did not scar you easily and instead prolonged your suffering, making your life a living torture.
Beads of sweat rolled from your temple. Your hands began to tremble and you felt yourself slowly succumbing to your fear. You had nowhere to go, nowhere to hide.
You were cornered, trapped.
Alastor had you where he wanted.
You watched him closely, eyes locked on him and every single movement. If he did something, you would see it.
"Are you frightened, dear?" he asked. His eyes met yours and he smiled. "There is no need to be afraid."
"Stay back! Don't touch me!" you shouted at him. The corners of his lips curled up, his smile turning sinister.
"Now, now, let's not act too hastily."
His gloved hand reached out and caressed your cheek, sending shivers down your spine. His red eyes bore into your soul, burning with hunger.
You couldn't bear to look at him. You didn't want him touching you.
"Don't," you whimpered.
"Don't be afraid. You have no reason to be afraid."
Rivers of tears streamed down your cheeks as the fear overwhelmed you. You didn't want him touching you. This man... He was the same one who hurt you, who ruined you.
"Why? Why are you doing this? Why are you here?"
The smile on his face grew wider.
"Do I need a reason? It’s obvious why we’re here," he replied, cocking his head to the side, eyes piercing through your eyes and consuming every little bit of your reactions in his head.
You gulped and stepped back, trying to create some distance between you and him.
"What are you going to do with me?"
He chuckled. "What a silly question! Would a little reacquaintance hurt?"
Reacquaintance? He was talking like this was a casual meeting. Like you were old friends reuniting. But this was the man who hurt you.
"What's the meaning of this?” You sobbed, shaking your head.
Alastor laughed loudly, his grin never faltering, and it makes you sick he finds everything amusing. An entertainment for his delight.
"You never fail to amuse me, dear. Aren’t you the one who killed me?” His antlers grew, his pupils changed to radio dials and his shadow stretched out of him, becoming more demonic in appearance.
You trembled. Your heart beat faster, your legs felt weak, and your mouth was dry.
"I... I…."
He stepped closer, and you stepped back.
Nothing came out of your lips. The words you wanted to say were stuck in your throat. You didn't want to look him in the eyes but his gaze held your chin up high, forcing you to face him. He smiled, and his eyes turned back to normal.
The knees that kept you upright gave in, unable to stabilize you any longer as your body slumped onto the rough pavement.
"Oh, darling," he sighed, the radio static in his voice disappeared as he crouched down. 
Your gaze remained fixed on the ground, avoiding any chance encounter with Alastor's piercing stare. Instead, your eyes trailed to his cane, a silent witness to the tense atmosphere between you.
You dared not meet those fiery red optics that seemed to delve into the depths of your very being, dissecting every nuance of your expression. Fingers clenched tightly, you seek some form of solace in the texture of the barren earth beneath you, as though it could take you amidst the storm brewing within.
Alastor took your chin between his fingers and delighted your vulnerable form. Your eyes were bloodshot and puffy and cheeks stained with tears.
"Fate has intertwined us together, dear. Run from me, I’ll always find you."
You didn't know what was more cruel—being brought to hell when you only wished for peace or being toyed around with him after death.
The nightmare you once thought had finally ceased returned to resume its cycle in the afterlife.
"I'll never get away from you..." You said, voice low and wavering. All hope was lost and so was your faith to continue living in this fiery pit of Hell.
"That's right. Good girl," He patted your head, taking a few strands of your hair and twirling it between his fingers. You fought the impulse to recoil, suppressing the urge to swat his hand away. 
The consequence of such defiance weighed heavily on your mind; after all, provoking one of hell's overlords was a gamble you weren't willing to take. So you held your ground, masking your inner turmoil beneath a facade of obedience, unsure of what consequences awaited should you dare to challenge the infernal authority before you.
In the dim light, his hand tenderly brushed away the tear tracing its path down your cheek. But as your eyes met his, a glint of something primal flickered in the darkness, casting an eerie glow upon his sharp, yellowed teeth.
Upon the moonlight, his crimson irises blazed like embers, drawing you into their hypnotic depths with an intensity that sent shivers down your spine.
"But fear not, darling. I can promise you a good time. And now that I found you again, we can pick up from where we left off. It will be just like old times."
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