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#smiles love exist
fumifooms · 3 months
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Kaka compilation
Because everyone is sleeping on him. Witness his greatness!! First two Kaka colored icons were colored by me, lineart by Ryoko Kui though!
Kaka & Kiki are kinda like Laios & Falin… Kaka being stoic and giving repressed energy like early Laios, Kiki being cryptic and always smiling and kinda soft-looking. Autism siblings 2, ostracized and othered as kids and have a deep bond due to sticking together through it all, though unlike with Laios their parents are very loving so Kaka developed family as a big value more than Laios (bc asides for Falin Laios doesn’t care much about it).
In the gnome festival comic you can see Kaka is more emotive than he seems! Full with a :3 face, and he’s the one crying at the end. He’s insecure about his legs and being tall… It really got to him. Conceal don’t feel. In the gnome festival comic you also see him sensing others’ gaze on him and that something is off unlike Kiki, again Laios-like in the way that judgement from others gets to him more than her.
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yawnzshit · 7 months
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he's living rent free in my MINDDDDDDDD
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jeeaark · 2 days
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Firstly, I dedicate this cheese moment to the song LP- One Last Moment . Be sad with me.
Secondly, ha, this moment probably doesn't hold as much impact nowadays but I drew this when patch 0 only had TWO OPTIONS and NOTHING ELSE. You could say it's my loving 'like fuck we won't ever see each other again my sun, moon, stars, and all of the above' response to Lae'zel's Goodbye. Had to give myself hope gosh darn it. But it's lovely to know that Greygold wasn't wrong. So I share cheesy moment anyway.
Third. YEAH I SAID GO. BABE'S GOTTA KILL VLAAKITH. You think Greygold is gonna be selfish and ask her to stay now??? After all that? PUH. Greygold knows responsibility sucks, but set a killer hawk free and all that. (of course I checked what's up with the other choice after the game and 'oofed' but still. PRINCIPLES. Gave myself delusional hope anyway pssh.)
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front-facing-pokemon · 10 months
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taizi · 2 months
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gently in the cold dark earth
scum villain's self saving system word count: 2k canon divergent / no system au; sy transmigrates into an empty npc role; gray lotus binghe loves his shixiong more than life and he's ready to make it everyone's problem
title borrowed from work song by hozier
read on ao3
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The first thing Luo Binghe does when he escapes the Abyss is return to Cang Qiong Mountain. 
With Xin Mo secured to his back, the way could be instant if he so chose—the journey of a thousand miles reduced to a single step—but he unsheathes the elegant jian at his hip instead.
Yong Liang sings sweetly for him, the snow white blade still shining and untainted even after years of helping Luo Binghe carve his way through hell. It has never once failed him, soulbound to the one person still on this earth who has never failed him. 
“Take it,” his shixiong insisted, low and urgent. The Abyss was behind them, an even deadlier threat was ahead, and Without A Cure clogging his meridians made Luo Binghe the best choice to wield the only unshattered spirit sword they had between them. “Binghe, take it.”
He pressed until Luo Binghe’s grip curled tight around the hilt, not hesitating to put his soul in Luo Binghe’s hands even with the rosy glow of an unsealed demon mark shining on his face. 
Luo Binghe flies at a pace best described as dangerously reckless, hardly smelling the fragrant spring air or feeling the sun on his face. His robes are a disgrace, his hair a tangled, matted mess, and it occurs to him that he could stop somewhere and clean himself up, make himself presentable, but it’s a brief, fleeting thought. 
Shen Yuan would be furious to find out that Luo Binghe wasted even a single second returning to his side. 
——
He passes through the ancient wards effortlessly, feeling them fall away from him like water. It’s a simple thing to tamp down on his demonic qi, to disguise the parts of him that those so-called righteous cultivators would scorn. He ghosts through the familiar grounds as eagerly as a starving animal bolting down a fresh game trail, but one by one, all of their familiar haunts come up empty, without even a lingering trace of Shen Yuan’s spiritual energy left behind.   
The head disciple’s room is dusted and undisturbed, as if its occupant might walk through the door at any moment, but the lack of clutter and the empty book shelf makes it very clear to Luo Binghe what the truth must be.
If Shen Yuan returned to the peak after the Conference, he didn’t stay. 
All at once, images crowd the front of his mind—his shixiong grieving, pulling away, turning his back on those responsible for his heartache. 
Yue Qingyuan, always only a step behind wherever his precious Xiu Ya sword went, promised that no one wanted to hurt them. They only wanted to help.
He looked so solemn and righteous that Shen Yuan reluctantly allowed himself to be convinced. Luo Binghe, who had gone to the man for help after a bloody whipping when he was a child, only to be given a walnut cake and turned away at the door, knew better. 
He wasn’t surprised when Shen Yuan was wrenched away from him, and shizun sent him staggering off the cliff with a spiritual dagger buried to the hilt in his chest, all of it happening within a matter of seconds—but it still hurt. 
Shen Yuan’s scream followed him all the way down. 
I’m alive, Luo Binghe thinks, with no one there to tell it to. I came back to you. Let me come back to you. 
——
Including time spent in the abyss, it’s three years before they meet again. 
Luo Binghe’s revenge is his second priority at best, but he is nothing if not efficient and knows how to kill two birds with the same stone. Huan Hua affords him ample resources and opportunities to scour the world for his missing shixiong while playing the role of earnest and diligent new disciple. He snatches up each mission that comes along as though  eager to prove his worth to the sect that so graciously took him in, but he takes every excuse to wander, to search, to make conversation with vendors and innkeepers and passing strangers. 
Have you seen my heart? It lives outside of me in the form of a beautiful young man and tends to wander. Very contrary, likes to fuss over people, could argue the stripes off a lushu just for fun. You’d know it if you met it. You’d never forget. 
The days blur together, meaningless and gray, but he doesn’t stop looking. Shen Yuan still exists somewhere in this world, because otherwise Luo Binghe wouldn’t. It’s the only thing that makes sense. The alternative doesn’t bear thinking about. 
And then, finally—an afternoon in Jinlan City, when Luo Binghe arrives in a throng of incompetent gold-clad Huan Hua disciples, to investigate a plague of all things—
He’s there. 
In dark, neutral colors and plain clothes, a traveling cloak with its hood resting down around his shoulders, as if his beauty could possibly be lessened by cheap, shapeless fabrics rather than effortlessly enhanced. His hair falls from its half-tail in glorious waves—he never did have the patience for anything elaborate, only wearing braids when one of his sticky shidimei cajoled and convinced him. Traveling alone, who could he possibly have to roll his eyes at and complain about and sit patiently still for?
A pale green ribbon is all that decorates his hair. Luo Binghe recognizes it instantly. 
“You should spend your allowance on yourself, Binghe,” Shen Yuan scolded him, not for the first time and certainly not for the last. 
“But I did,” Luo Binghe protested, widening his eyes and clasping his hands earnestly, the way he knew worked best. “I wanted it! And now that I have it, I want to give it to you.”
Shen Yuan was too clever by half to be truly fooled by the innocent act, but he always folded like paper anyway. He spoiled all of his shidimei but Luo Binghe most of all. Anyone on Qing Jing Peak would be hard-pressed to think of a single example of Shen Yuan telling Luo Binghe ‘no.’ 
Sure enough, after a second spent visibly wrestling with himself, he blurted, “Oh, fine! Hand it over.” 
He wore it every day since. He’s wearing it now. The wind catches the ends of it, sending it streaming behind him like the tails of a paradise flycatcher. Lovely. 
For a brief moment, Luo Binghe is frozen where he stands, finally faced with the very thing that he’s been missing for years, that he’s been living a miserable half-life without. 
And then he remembers himself and lurches forward. His voice is a tangle in his throat but he manages to choke out, “Shixiong!”
A strike of lightning couldn’t have jolted Shen Yuan into more perfect stillness. He stops mid-step, every inch of him as good as carved from precious jade. He doesn’t turn his head, and the sliver of his face visible from where Luo Binghe stands is very pale. 
Luo Binghe wonders suddenly if this has happened to him before—if Shen Yuan has heard a voice on the road or in the market that was almost familiar, that was almost the one he was hoping for, only to be disappointed when he turned to follow it and found a stranger. 
Luo Binghe shortens the distance between them with a few anxious steps and tries again. 
“Shixiong.”
The older boy whirls around abruptly, as if to get it over with. He’s bracing himself, but Luo Binghe barely has a second to absorb Shen Yuan’s painful-looking anticipation before it bleeds out of his face in favor of something else entirely. 
He looks like the earth has fallen out from beneath his feet, like he hardly dares to believe his eyes. Zheng Yang gleams golden at Shen Yuan’s hip, reforged and whole again.
“Binghe?”  
“It’s me,” Luo Binghe says softly. 
There’s a tableau he’s afraid to break, as if they’re in a delicate dreamscape and a move too sudden or loud might dissolve it. He wants to say I’ve missed you the way lungs miss air, immediately and needfully, I haven’t breathed at all since we’ve been apart. He wants to say you’re my light in the dark, I can only stand in front of you now because I love you too much to ever truly leave you. 
Instead, he tells his dearest friend, “This one made you wait. But your Binghe is here.”
Shen Yuan sprints the rest of the way to meet him, almost before he’s even finished talking, and they collide in a solid embrace that knocks the air from them both. 
His arms wind around Luo Binghe’s waist like steel bands, fingers digging into the back of his robes, precious face pressed into the crook of his neck and shoulder. Luo Binghe doesn’t hesitate to gather him up close, holding him as tightly and securely as he knows how, burying his nose in his shixiong’s hair and breathing in the familiar, beloved smell of him.  
Shen Yuan is a few inches shorter than he remembers. All the better to tuck him beneath Luo Binghe’s chin, to cover and surround him so completely that not even the heavens above can get a decent eyeful. 
He wants to grab and bite and pin Shen Yuan beneath him and never let go. His jaw aches with wanting it. 
“I’ve been looking for you,” Luo Binghe says, eyes wet. “I went home first.” Unsaid goes the obvious but you weren’t there. 
“How could I stay?” Shen Yuan bites out, managing to sound all at once strangled and bewildered and—charmingly—offended. He shakes his head without lifting it, an aggressive nuzzle against Binghe’s shoulder. “After what they did to you, I’d rather die than represent their stupid sect another minute.”
“Step away from it, Shen Yuan,” shizun said coldly. “I’ll put that beast back where it belongs.”
“No,” shixiong said in a voice that was smaller than usual, one that shook. He was frightened, clearly overwhelmed, but he didn’t budge from where he was plastered in front of Luo Binghe like a breathing shield. 
“Now.” 
“No, shizun.”
“Shizhi,” Yue Qingyuan said gently, offering his hand. “Come here. It will be alright.”
Shen Yuan said, “No. You can’t hurt Binghe. He’s not bad just because of who his parents are. He’s as good as he was yesterday, and the day before that, and the day before that. He’s hardworking and loyal and a sweetheart to anybody who gives him half a chance. He’s so good.”
Liu Qingge was behind the sect leader, sword drawn. Shen Qingqiu was quickly losing what little patience he had, face twisted into a sneer, dark eyes stabbing hatefully at Luo Binghe from over his head disciple’s shoulder. There were more figures rapidly drawing closer, the other peak lords following the flare of Yue Qingyuan’s qi. The standoff was becoming more and more untenable, and Shen Yuan was too smart not to see that, shrinking back against Luo Binghe as much as he could without crowding him closer to the edge. 
“You can’t hurt him,” he said again, the closest Luo Binghe had ever heard him come to tears, “he’s my shidi.”
Luo Binghe is unsurprised by his shixiong’s loyalty, because it’s already been proven to him over and over. It’s unremarkable at this point, which is an absolutely remarkable thing in itself. It makes him feel warm with gratitude and affection and ownership. 
Shen Yuan is clever and quick on his feet and always three steps ahead, more knowledgeable about flora and fauna than anyone else Binghe has ever known combined, and probably a force to be reckoned with as a rogue cultivator, where the only rules of conduct he has to adhere to are his own. 
But Luo Binghe hates to think of him on the road alone, without the little martial siblings who follow him like ducklings, without his Binghe there to make sure he remembers to eat all his meals and comb out his hair before bed. He’s a creature of comfort, made for airy rooms with too many cushions and an abundance of sweets and books to read. 
Luo Binghe has fantasized more than once about building a home for Shen Yuan to lounge prettily in. It was, in fact, his favorite flavor of daydream since he was about thirteen. 
If Shen Yuan wants to rogue cultivate, then that’s what they’ll do. But Luo Binghe thinks, if he constructs a palace that’s as comfortable as it is grand, and fills it with trashy romance novels and obscure beasts and his own hand-made meals, he can convince his friend to live in it with him.
Shen Yuan needs to be taken care of. Luo Binghe needs to be the one taking care of him. They’re together now and they’ll never be apart again and those needs can both be met. 
That possessive, proprietary feeling coils dark and deep inside him, undulating lazily like a serpent who’s fed enough for days, reminding him over and over what he already knows:
Mine. 
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sergle · 25 days
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what I was talking abt earlier. we have fully looped back around and away from feminism, societally, whereas before it was very Feminism 101 to acknowledge that many parts of existing as a woman in a misogynistic society are painful and upsetting. not that being a woman is Inherently Negative in a bubble. but that living on this earth, in the conditions we're living in, is hostile to women. and that gender is a performance. that many of the Staples Of Femininity as accepted by society are things that you have to create and perform and mold artificially and aren't inherent, that COMPLAINING about day to day difficulties of existing as a woman is something that you're allowed to do. acknowledging these basic, again, feminism 101 things, that something tied to womanhood is more time consuming or more expensive or more dangerous Because Of The Problems. does not CREATE the problems. that when women complain about having to perform femininity, they are not, in fact, oppressing themselves. the call does not come from inside the fucking house. saying that you HAVE suffered does not fucking equate that you believe you SHOULD have suffered.
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like I could talk about this for hours. how braindead and one-dimensional the Takes are getting. "being a woman is looking in the mirror and going fuck yeah i'm a woman" damn. I guess any negative experiences you have by living in a misogynistic world... are your fault if you are anything but positive? "you don't actually want liberation" we've fully gone back to telling feminists "you WANT to be oppressed" when anything negative about our society is pointed out. it's not real until I say it out loud, I guess, and then I'm actually the one who caused it. if anybody expresses any unhappiness with how they're treated or the status quo or the language and culture surrounding womanhood and femininity. they've created it, right that second. they invented it just now. it wasn't a problem before somebody complained, right? also trans women aren't braindead zombies who just follow the flow of whatever cis women around them say. I am pretty fucking sure they are very much aware of pain, and are MORE than aware of the swirling torrent of misogyny and standards of femininity than anybody else. actually. and I am pretty sure someone complaining on tumblr that being a woman means always putting on a performance is going to make someone change their mind about transitioning. also "performing femininity" as a necessity to being treated well as a woman is not fucking NEWS to your Local Trans Woman. I AM PRETTY SURE SHE GETS THE CONCEPT. using trans women as a scapegoat for this braindead perspective on gender politics is spineless, meritless, and pathetic.
#how I feel about my gender is not the same as how I feel about the living conditions of my gender#when I saw that post I screenshotted here I literally sat w my mouth open for a minute#sent it to my friends and was like am I fucking crazy. is this what we're doing now#Forced Positivity and that there is no war in ba sing se and actually#you're ruining children's lives if you complain about misogyny on twitter#I don't HAVE to tell little girls about the downsides because they are already being mistreated#before they have even heard the word 'misogyny' let alone know what it means#you do not have to be fucking happy all the time about the cards you're dealt.#you don't live in a bubble where it's just you and your mirror and your pretty dress and nothing bad has ever happened to you#unfortunately bitch. we will have negative experiences that are in fact. part of the package of being a woman#and IGNORING them doesn't make them not exist. actually they will continue to remain status quo unless acknowledged#sergle.txt#I see so much rhetoric that is JUST old-fashioned gender ideals being presented with liberal language on tiktok#that is just telling women that womanhood is just being a girllll and loving pretty things and being kind and gentleeeee and nurturing#and not working and just like being wholesome and being happy and being a light in ppl's lives and just LOVING LOVING LOVING being a woman#so if for even one second. you don't love it. you are actually failing at being a woman#if you complain about the standards for shaving or putting on makeup. which used to be Baby's First Feminism online#that's actually just you creating problems. you're not supposed to acknowledge it. you're supposed to shut up and smile into the mirror.
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astraystayyh · 1 month
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happy birthday to my hyune. hyunjin who wrote a poem about stay’s eyes and how they shine brighter than any stars. hyunjin who paints old couples because he believes love should be eternal. hyunjin who needs to be chased off the stage by staff because he wants to greet stays longer. hyunjin who always reassures stays that they have a long time left together. hyunjin who reads poetry before bed. hyunjin who writes about love so beautifully as if he is the embodiment of it. hyunjin who says he wants to remain strong as to not hurt stays. hyunjin who says you need to practice with your 200% to show 100%. hyunjin who loves reading books. hyunjin who always tells stays to eat well. hyunjin who wears his heart on his sleeve. hyunjin who started a stay counseling center to listen to stay’s problems. hyunjin who wrote if love is everything, then there is nothing left for me. hyunjin who trained really hard because he refused to be just a pretty face. hyunjin who said that he loves easily, gets hurt easily, regrets easily then repeats the process because isn’t that what life is about. hyunjin who said that the wounds caused by humans are also healed by humans. hyunjin who remains hopeful and loving despite it all. hyunjin who eats with his eyes closed. hyunjin who loves going to art museums. hyunjin who said that there isnt a team that loves each other as much as skz does. hyunjin who said that there should always be a Stray kids before his name. hyunjin who loves so freely and who i love. you grew up so well my hyune 💓 please be happy forever.
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capric0rnie · 10 months
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i don’t understand how people can genuinely think that katniss “this would have happened anyway” everdeen settled in her relationship with peeta “my dandelion in the spring” mellark
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keirientez · 4 months
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trying to get used to tumblr again
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crescentfool · 1 year
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happy valentine’s day! 💛💙
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kuroshirosb · 6 months
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I believe in friends and laughter and the wonders love can do~
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simplepotatofarmer · 2 months
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the worst thing that came from the misuse of 'parasocial' is people think it's weird to tell people you don't know that you love them.
i do love my mutuals on social media sites and i do love the streamers i watch and i do love all the people, all around me, that i don't know. they're people! and i don't know them but i know that and that's enough for me to love them all the same.
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petrichara · 2 months
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I wonder how much of our parents we know through knowing ourselves. I wonder how much of ourselves we think are our own and were first born in our parents. I wonder, even in death, what I still learn about my father.
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spongewormedpants · 8 months
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There is something so real and genuine about Michael Holden and Tori Spring, and I don’t think I’ll ever get over it :-)
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slaymiedrysdale · 1 year
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THIS MFER IS EVERYTHING TO ME
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maomao9jinshi · 29 days
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Jinshi: there are interesting rumors going around both in the high class and outside!
Jinshi: Rumour has it that she can heal a sick prince princesses or a high ranking noble in the blink of an eye and can smile gracefully even when
she has eaten a deadly poison. She can make any flower bloom that doesn't exist in the world, she can do anything. They say she waits on the castle wall with a dance.
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