forever obsessed with dynamics between vampires, specifically that of a maker and fledgling, as a way to explore abuse. the creation of a vampire itself can so easily be a literalization of the lasting impacts of trauma and also much more simply the ways a perpetrator might shape their victim’s very identity. the extremes of isolation in the way that the new vampire, in most narratives, must cut all ties to their mortal life, or else go through an elaborate charade to maintain the facade of humanity, while forever still being removed from it. and the sheer dependence and vulnerability of being in an entirely new state of being, wholly uncertain of what it entails, and relying on another person to define… everything.
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forever annoyed by the wannabe activism that got so much worse during the pandemic that so many younger people seem to primarily abide by now. where almost all their "action" is online-based and heavily focused on media consumption and "problematic people". it drives me so crazy. i don't know how to tell you that going after a musician or actor or comedian because of their views or statements is the least productive form of activism and i honestly wouldn't even count it as such. if you want to call yourself an activist you actually need to ACT. not just talk online about how person xyz is evil and be done for the day, or say book/movie xyz is problematic and then log off, that's not enough, that doesn't actually DO anything
call local officials, go to protests, talk to people at your uni/school, boycott brands. hell, even talk to your parents about what's going on in Palestine, or other current events, many older people have conservative views, not because of inherent bigotry, but because they don't have enough information and grew up in a media propaganda bubble. or just talk about ongoing events online, keep the pressure on the public and don't let people lean back and forget. all that are actual forms of activism
i'll never stop being mad at the new wave social media wannabe activism that lets people think they're done with their Activism Activity of the day if they called timothee chalamet or noah schnapp a bad person. girl, yeah they are, but actually do Anything else too, that's not the activism you apparently think it is😭
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anyway like/reblog if you love fall out boy in a 2010s mania football centuries light em up radio/stadium rock way and/or to blow up people who claim to be fall out boy fans but actively hate half their discography and treat them exactly the way the media does and refuse to acknowledge their own racism and ableism and would rather see the band depressed and at their lowest than making music they care about that makes them happy 🫶
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Maverick is bragging to all of the other pilots about taking the Iceman’s tower-buzzing virginity but Ice just gives him a look and suddenly Maverick has him pushed against the wall demanding an explanation. So he’s now got to figure out how to gently break it to Mav that an air traffic control tower in the middle of nowhere could not believe that they had a F-14 under their control and requested he fly by them at 500 ft AGL with a little wing rock.
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okk love your blog, so I rlly wanted to send an ask even if its nothing too especific ;-;
soo, since u like tntduo (like me :]) whats your favorite hc for their relationship? I love hearing about hc's, and since your art its so cute, u probs have some cool hc's
Thank youuuuu I appreciate it so much, and by all means flood me with asks! Asks are great, I love asks, be it random thoughts, art ideas, opinions, etc etc, asks are always welcome (unless they're from the 🥝 anon 🙄🙄🙄 /j/loving)
And a favourite headcanon? Hm, i don't know, hard to say. I have multiple headcanons, idk if I favour any in particular
There's one where after revival Wilbur's body is kinda fucked up in the nerves and blood vessels department, so he has some trouble with kinda controlling it, which particularly expresses itself in his hands being unsteady. They're so unsteady, that the first time he picks up a guitar again he can't play right. He blows up over it and has a breakdown, and vows to never play again. He still ends up trying a couple times, but each time he just immediately gets pissed off and upset, and tosses it away. It really breaks him. At some point he's at Quackity's place, and he sees a guitar. He looks at it for a while, but doesn't say anything, of which Quackity makes note. Next time they meet up Wilbur shits on Quackity for not having touched it recently, so Quackity takes it as a challenge. Once the music starts, Wil goes quiet. He's sitting to the side of Q, slightly behind him, and after a while for just a moment he leans against his upper back, and closes his eyes, simply l taking the moment in. This situation repeats, a couple times, and each time Wilbur lets himself relax a bit longer. He starts playing with Quackity's hair as he listens, and one time he l begins trying to braid it. His hands are shaking, he's struggling to divide the thick hair into even parts, he's having trouble keeping the braid even, but what's crucial is that he does it. Next time it repeats. And next time too. And the next, and eventually the braids start to look actually pretty decent. Time passes, they meet up more often, and eventually comes a day when Wilbur takes the guitar. No words are exchanged. No ridicule, but no praise either - no verbal acknowledgement. Instead Quackity just sits slightly behind him, and begins gently braiding his hair. The notes are wonky and don't always sound quite right, and the rhythm is messy, and strumming only goes well sometimes, but he's playing...
Quackity kisses Wilbur's head, right above the new braid. He leans in, partially hugging him, as the other's playing. It's been a bit over a year since he started playing again, and the difference is big. Neither knows if he'll ever fully regain the control and steadiness of his hands, but he manages to keep the rhythm, and the notes now ring out clear a big majority of the time. He plays quicker songs too, now; sometimes they both sing, and laugh when they mix something up. Quackity smiles, closing his eyes as Wilbur once again butchers a random song by changing up the words completely to make it as on the nose as humanly possible. He begins to wonder what they should eat tomorrow for their anniversary breakfast.
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