I keep picking 70s and 80s Music for my self insert art on tiktok oops.
I’ve seen a few folks take their self insert stuff to tiktok. I’m sure infinitely better people have done it too. My turn now. Call me ✨
HUNIE POP meme!
The gander was lazed over the covers, flipping through a few magazines while the radio played dully in the background. A casual afternoon of affection led to a nap and lounging session, but now the busy-bodied rooster was back up and recharged. Panch’s yawn was loud and sprawling, and even from behind his blindside, Gladstone could feel him stretch before the mattress plunged down, popping back up as the rooster exited the bed.
The whap! wasn’t a surprise, ( Gladstone would be more surprised if Panch didn’t give his butt a smack after sex, hell, he got it when he just passed him in the kitchen after getting a drink… ) Nevertheless, his eyes bulge on the sharp contact, his tail hiking up in shock. He nods slowly, feigning disgust, even if on the inside, he’s laughing. “Oh. Uchhh…you pig.” Hands droop over the edge of the bed as he drops the magazines with pretend ‘offense,’ the papers fanning out messily onto the floor below. The gander turns on his elbow to watch Panch move around, but he keeps his own nakedness partially modest, as he stays flat on his stomach. He’s watching the rooster march around arrogantly, plucking one article of clothing up after the other to redress, and shakes his head, ticking his tongue with fake disgust.
“You SCANDALOUS prick, I’m going to kick your filthy ass back over the Rio Grande! I’ll have you know I’ve gotten better treatment for far less. How daaaaaaaaare you talk to me like some cheap trick,” He nods matter-of-factly at the rooster as he passes him again. “I’m an EXPENSIVE trick.”
gd it really is the way both ferris and cameron wear loafers for me
— tag drop 4. Virgil & Caroline.
“Yo, Lanchan! Sorry for the wait!” Well, he wasn’t too sorry, since he was grinning from ear to ear. But man, he was just too impressed with how Korwa and Lyria helped coordinate his costume! He looked so good in plaid, and how they ripped the jeans and did up the boots to make them look like scary claw paws — The only little embarrassing thing was the ears and snout drawn on his nose. “The girls really went all out to get people into the spirit with their costumes…So, what do ya think?”
Unprompted || always accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!
★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ― ☽ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯
Fingers tug at the hem of the gloves his hands have been shoved into. He’s not unused to the thick fabric rubbing against his palms from his own armor, but this pair is a bit…gaudy for him. He, admittedly, enjoyed Halloween more than he would let on to most, but the costume aspect of it was still something he was getting used to - even if he had agreed to let Lyria and the other children dress him up without a fuss. But if he thought armor was uncomfortable when he had first started wearing it, he had severely underestimated the scratchiness of pleather or the additional drape of the scarlet and black cape that hung from his shoulders - the one that licked at the floor whenever he walked because it was clearly too long for him. And the thick collar of that cape brushed against his jaw whenever he inhaled against the crisp air. It might have been popular to dress up as a vampire, but he a part of him wishes they would have chosen less…flashy outfit for him (ignoring the fact that the armor he can be found in more often than not was a rather eye-catching shade of blue). He felt ridiculous, and he’s more than certain he looked it even though he had only been brave enough to glance at his reflection for a moment prior to coming out on the deck to wait for the others to finish their ‘make-over’ sessions with the children.
He’s still fiddling with his outfit when he hears the clamor of feet against the deck, and his gaze lifts from the hem of his shirt to greet Vane with a smile to dismiss the apology. Yet, It might just be the wide grin plastered across the other’s face, but he suspects Vane isn’t sorry at all for taking so much time getting ready. Compared to him, it showed anyway. Lyria and Korwa had done an excellent job coordinating the pieces of the other’s costume - from the plaid topped that mixed perfectly with the ripped jeans to the boots that had been crafted into a pair of claws. The snout drawn on the other man’s nose does make his lips quiver, and he tries, to the best of his ability to not to laugh at the sight, but he lifts up a hand to cover his mouth in an attempt to stifle the chuckle that vibrates against his throat. The ears he finds more endearing than humorous, if only because he can almost imagine them perking up to match the curve of his smile.
“So it appears, but that means we’ll have to match their enthusiasm when it comes to putting their hard work on display.” For someone who had been so apprehension about his own getup a moment ago, he seems to have changed his mind on the matter rather swiftly. He has always been the type to allow the emotions and energy of others to bring him up or knock him down, try as he might to now allow it to impact him as much as it once had. This time; however, he doesn’t think it a bad idea to allow Vane’s holiday cheer to infect him a bit. He’s always enjoyed Halloween, and he can’t think of a better time than now to get into the swing of things, even if he’s trying to maintain just a bit of his image (barely). His hand falls away from his mouth, exposing the grin that stretches out across his own features.
“You look good, Vane. They did an excellent job picking everything out. You might be the best looking werewolf in the Skies.” he answers without hesitation, even if Vane is, arguably, the least intimidating werewolf he’s ever seen - not that he’s seen many to begin with, but he has a hard time believing anyone could pull off that hand-drawn snout while keeping striking fear into their enemies. “That snout really suits you.” He can barely say those words without chuckling, and the heave of his chest is enough to indicate that he’s desperately trying not to. “However, I believe one of your ears might be crooked.” Is it actually? No, not at all, but it’s not Halloween with a few harmless tricks here or there. So, he reaches out to fiddle with the right ear nestled in the other’s hair, tipping it to the side enough to make it appear visibly lopsided before retracting his fingers and admiring his handiwork for a moment before flashing the other a smile to conceal his own amusement. “There, now it’s perfect.”
Prefixes and parishahs are the technical terms of the scriptures. These words are used in a typical typical sense.
There are thousands of such prefixes and parishapradhan stories in Jain Agam texts and Jain history. The prefix is such a terrible hardship that can even lead to death. When the prefix comes from Devakrut, Manushyakrut and Tiryanch (animal-bird-insect), the seeker has become a traveler of Atmarthi Mokshapanth who has achieved Zzumi victory over the prefix with equality.
In the town of Sravasti, Kanakketu Raja and Malayasundari Rani had a maiden named Skandak and a maiden named Sunanda. Sunanda was married at an appropriate age to King Purush Singh of Kanchinagari. Skandak Kumar Acharya Shri Vijyansensuri was disgusted to hear of the country and with the consent of his parents he took restraint. Studying all the scriptures with the Guru, getting the Guru’s command. Accepting Jinalpipanu, he started walking alone.
Arriving at Kanchipuri, the sage started walking in the village for grazing at noon. The king and queen were sitting in the courtyard of the palace. At that time, Sunanda’s gaze went to the sage who was begging. His body was crucified through penance. In the summer season, tears came to the queen’s eyes when she saw her brother wandering for Gauchari in such heat.
When the king saw that seeing the sage brought tears to the queen’s eyes, the thought came to the king that there must be some evil relationship between the sage and the queen. The king became angry with the sage because of prejudice. He called his servants and ordered them to remove the skin from the monk’s head to his feet and kill him.
As soon as the king’s order was given, the servants grabbed the muni who was going to beg and with a sharp weapon removed the skin of the muni from head to toe. At that time, even though the sage suffered from Mhaveda, he did not blame the king, the royal servants or anyone else, but blamed his own deeds. Koshi was whispered.
Skandak Muni, who became introverted after meditating on the Ksapak series. Achieved achievement. The queen found out that the sage who was killed was his brother Muni. She began to cry profusely. The king knew the truth. He also became very remorseful when he killed the sage just by guessing.
Once the wise Guru waited there. The king went to pay his respects. After listening to Dharmadesh, when the king asked why it was a sin to skin the sage of his Grihasthashram, Gnani Guru replied. In the one thousandth bhav before this bhav, the life of Skandak Muni was as a prince and the soul of the king was as Kothimba. The prince took the coriander and peeled the coriander with his friends and made himself proud of his skill.
As a result of that pride, he revolted against the life of the prince along with the life of Kothimba. That vengeance came after a thousand bhavs. The soul of that prince is the sage Skandakumar and the soul of Kothimba is the king. When he peeled the pomegranate, his skin was peeled off by the king in this birth. The deeds done do not leave anyone. Pilgrims also have to suffer. That means never taking revenge on anyone. Hearing this sermon of the wise Guru, the king-queen became disillusioned, took initiation and did self-welfare.
Contemplating this story of Skandakkumar, it seems that the karma done before thousands of bhavs can rise at any time. Moreover, the pride of having done that deed with an evil deed results in a detached karma, so the karma that must be suffered terribly ceases. Moreover, the vibrations of goodwill are like a feast of inspiration as the hasty decision without knowing the full details is just a conjecture.
- Quality Barwalia
In general it can be hard to remember that it’s okay to fuck up, and it’s actually completely normal, it’s normal to sometimes hurt people without meaning to, we make mistakes and speak from anger and clash with people even if we love them and it doesn’t make you some irredeemable monster it just makes you human. You don’t have to be perfect to be a good person, you just have to try your best to be your best self, atone for your mistakes and try to be a little better every day
maybe do not eat a whole bag of extra hot cheetos sarah
I’m trusting AEW to complete the narrative arc of Darby winning the title from Mox. I Am Trusting Them
APHRODITE. laughter-loving, sweet smiles, dressed in silk and satin, flower in their hair, sees the world as a runway, unapologetically sexual, the sea washing their ankles, in love with love, stirrer of passion, cunning concealed by painted lips, secret daggers, doves, revolution in their kiss, delighting in the waves, flirtatious winks, strolling along the beach, staring wistfully from a balcony, this is how to be a heartbreaker, wants to be adored, gets turned on by danger.
APOLLO. glitz and glamour, art galleries, turning the volume up, being made of gold, neatly-organized music sheets, notebooks filled with poetry, bathing in the sunlight, the powerful urge to create, collecting vinyl records, beautiful cover of Wonderwall, playing multiple instruments, tasting like sunshine, healing touch, speaking in prophecies, smile mingled with wrath, shunning lies, sporting shades, hanging out at music festivals with their friends, sleeps naked, arrow to the heart, paint brushes, probably has a Tinder account.
ARES. armed for battle, wants to raise a dog with their significant other, soft spot for children, gives piggyback rides, scarred body, blood on their hands and face, willing to fight the world for the ones they love, fights against injustice, warm hugs, well-worn combat boots, boxing gloves, bandages wrapped around bruised knuckles, fist raised in protest, ignites revolutions, fear is a prison, more sensitive than what their tough shell would have you think, exhausted, damaged goods, force to be reckoned with, red roses, curses under their breath.
ARTEMIS. keen sense of a hunter, freckles like constellations on their skin, piercing eyes, disheveled braid, moonlight peeking through the shadows, the calm of the forest at night, lying on the grass and staring at the stars, mother doe and her fawn, protecting their kin, the moon shimmering on a still lake, quiver full of arrows resting against the bark of a tree, running with wolves, bonding while circled around a campfire, not being much of a people person, arrow hitting a target, popping egos, patience on 3%, touches heaven and returns howling.
ATHENA. discerning gaze, unreadable face, quiet museums, owl perched on their finger, armor that intimidates, eye for architecture, plays the sims for the sole purpose of building houses, studied the blade while everyone else was busy , big fan of logic, loves brain teasers, ancient buildings, sweaters in neutrals and cool colors, hair done up, can kill you with their brain, heads to the library often to research, sharpened pencils, abs that can cut steel, stoic statues, pottery classes.
DEMETER. soil-covered hands, smile that can bloom flowers, skin loved by the sun, being the mom-friend, can lift you and your friends, flowers kept in the pockets of overalls, takes pride in their beautiful garden, speaks to their plants, leaves rustling in the wind, stalks of wheat, picking fruit, greenhouses, heart as strong as a mountain, values simplicity, daisies dotted across a collarbone, curls crowned with flowers, folded pile of sweaters in warm hues, pulling out fresh-baked bread out of the oven and the smell wafting through the air.
DIONYSUS. drunk shitposter, on their sixth glass of wine before you’ve even finished your second, seductive smirks, untamed curls, rich fabrics on dark skin, sleek-furred panthers, theater masks, stage productions, receiving a standing ovation, rose caught between their teeth, being the baby of the bunch, wild parties that last from sundown to sunup, creeping vines, inspiring loyalty, grand opera houses, masquerade balls, rolls of film, shattered chandeliers with broken glass scattered across the wine-spilled floor, pouring champagne into flutes, lives for the applause.
HEPHAESTUS. the calloused hands of someone who knows labor, sweaty brow, flame burning in their eyes, inventive mind, broad shoulders, steampunk goggles, nuts and bolts stored away in little boxes, ashes, striking a match, blueprints for future projects, fixing up a busted up car and giving it cool upgrades, wrestles with bitterness, work boots have seen better years, wrinkled plaid shirts, iron melted in blazing fire, huge jackets, crafting masterpieces, greased-stained overalls, fascination with robotics, pain is fuel, stack of weaponry, even their muscles have muscles.
HERA. resting bitch face, dressed to the nines, cows grazing on a pasture, cool rain, loving and hating fiercely, hand clutching a string of pearls, large chandelier with glittering crystals, plays the sims for the sole purpose of killing off their sims, romance to realism, pictures of the sky while flying on a plane, downs glasses of wine as they relax with a scented bubble bath and netflix, like their selfie or you’re grounded, knows 57 convenient ways to murder a man, dark eyes that penetrate your soul, marble and gold.
HERMES. devil-may-care smile, always up-to-date on the latest technology, will steal your french fries, does it for the vine, shitposter, puts googly eyes on everything, meme hoarder, long drives on the highway, ma and pop diners, spontaneous road trips, folded maps, fingers dancing across the keyboard of a laptop, shooting hoops on the basketball court, chatting up strangers as you all journey to your own destinations, goes jogging in the morning, mixes redbull with coffee, menace on april fool’s, hoodies and sneakers.
POSEIDON. storm with skin, colorful coral reefs, waves crashing against the shore, stroking the soft fur of a cat, their heart pounding as their horse’s gentle trot speeds into a gallop, tousled locks, clothes smeared with paint, owns several sketchbooks yet always yearns to own more, leather jackets, fondness for diy projects, handwriting that flows across the page, nimble fingers playing the strings of a violin, velvety singing voice that haunts your dreams, mood as ever-changing as the sea, the roar of a motorcycle, compass with a spinning arrow.
ZEUS. thunder in their heart, running on coffee, flash of lightning, natural charisma, eloquence, badass in a nice suit, aficionado of history, force of nature, lenny face, nightmare-filled nights, proud arm around their lover’s waist, high-rise buildings, planes soaring through a cloudless sky, technician on the piano, maintains order, strong handshake, juggling multiple events on their busy schedule with ease, expensive watch.
The exaggeration of your given numbers is apparent, but I understand your meaning behind it. Still, my service to the Empire is one of devotion and understanding, and I hardly require acknowledgement for it. In many ways, I prefer it goes unseen.
While well under thousands or even hundreds of people, those who do feel gratitude are better off improving themselves or extending that service in kind to Her Majesty’s cause. Whether that’s by directly enlisting or supporting her ideals by liberating others from oppression, a gesture of that kind is a far more productive expression of appreciation for anything I might have done.
oh look, it is time for me to yell about my silly, insignificant little problems in the vaguest words possible to strangers on the internet
2 years ago today,, dropped acid in a church bathroom and went and had the best gd day of my life
“Hey Lancey~ did you know I like it when you swing your swords~?” he teased the knight while getting closer to him (Personal space Belial) and to be honest Belial has his eyes on the captain and he was sure handsome and the fallen well wants to know him better. (To Lancelot)
Unprompted || Always Accepting (feel free to turn into threads)!
★ ☆ ✮ ✯ ― ☽ ― ★ ☆ ✮ ✯
It wasn’t unusual for him to join the Captain on missions from time to time, nor was it strange for him to find a secluded spot upon the deck of the Grandcypher to train as the ship soared through steady skies to their destination in. Ever diligent, it seems he simply couldn’t stop to take a break even when all of the preparation at hand had been completed. And, so, he found himself near the edge of the deck - swords held firmly within calloused palms as the gentle clank of his armor filled the quiet air as he brought each blade down swiftly and with a skilled ease from years of use. A motion repeated over and over again - thick boots remained firmly planted upon wood, and eyes were narrowed in concentration though not fixed on any one object or location. Lips pursed into a thin line as the breeze kicks up silky stands of black hair that are made damp from the sweat that clings to his skin. He’s lost count of the number of repetitions he’s done, but knows it’s well into the hundreds from the slight ache of his muscles. But it’s not enough to make him stop.
What is enough to make him falter; however, is the sound of footsteps behind him. Instinct makes the hair on the back of his neck rise up, and his back goes rigid as he turns around. Brows are quick to pull together and a frown mars his pretty features as his gaze lands on the fallen angel. He doesn’t lower his blades. If anything he grips them just a bit tighter. He can’t fathom the Captain’s reasoning behind allowing the other to join the crew after all of the pain he’s caused, but given that he’s not truly a member of the crew, he can only question them in passing. And he had not personally fought Belial, but he is wary of him regardless. He won’t soon forget their struggle against the Watchers and that hooded figure, or what had happened to the other archangels. And the nickname makes him tense when it’s spoken in that tone from that mouth.
“I will ask you to refrain from calling me that.” His tone is stern, but it maintains the composure one would expect from the Captain of the Order of White Dragons. “And -” words die upon his tongue when the other steps closer - too close, for his liking. And he takes a step back without thinking about it - shifting slightly so that the blades he still holds are nestled between their bodies to keep the other from trying to draw too close again. The implication of the other’s words isn’t lost on him - it would be impossible not to notice how the other chooses to speak to them, but he refuses to give the other the reaction he suspects he had wanted.
“I have no desire to cause trouble for the Captain, so I would ask you to keep your distance as well.” He inhales, and allows the mild burn of his muscles to help him maintain focus as he addresses the other once again. “Now, is there a reason you’ve sought me out?” He has the gut feeling he’s not going to like the other’s answer, but reminds himself to keep his temper in check just in case the Captain had sent the other over for some reason he simply can’t imagine.
Wait does… does the “T” stand for “The”
Is his goddamn full name “Bobo The Chimpanzee” I’m-