REBLOG If You Have Amazing, Talented WRITER Friends.

Listen idk how I feel about this one so we might be redoing this but here is my attempt at the Night Lord's icon :D

heres the thing, also. Even if things don’t get better, I’ve still got anywhere from 0-70 more years left on this earth. I would rather still fight to make those years liveable, comfortable, thriveable even. That alone is worth it. It isn’t all or nothing. It never has been.

the urge is strong to harass mutuals. I love you guys that's why I do it I swear!!

IMPORTANT: TUMBLR HAS MADE A DEAL WITH MIDJOURNEY/OPENAI.

YOUR ART AND IMAGES ON TUMBLR ARE BEING USED TO TRAIN AI MODELS.

The opt-in is automatic, but you can turn it off in settings.

Go to "Blog Settings" -> "Visibility" -> "Third-Party Sharing" and turn on "Prevent third-party sharing for [blog]". (This post shows how to do it on browser and on mobile.) You need to do this with every sideblog. (Note: The option in settings might not appear if your app hasn't updated yet. You can still opt out via browser.)

Spread the word. Everyone on Tumblr needs to know about this.

No omg I'm sorry /gen I was joking about how like. I'd join you. I'M SORRY BAD AT TONE

If you tell fictionfolk to stop complaining about how fandom portrays them i'm legally entitled to throw rocks at your head at devastating speeds.

YES?? Please and thank you?? Some completely normal attacking mutuals I appreciate the thought and would enjoy

Y’all ever just want to play wrestle someone and it not get sexual? Like, I just want to throw and be thrown, and then we lay there, winded and laughing, side by side, too tired to get up, just having a good and wholesome time. Doesn’t that sound fun? Why must everyone try to make it weird?

Be Openly Scary

Society is scared of a lot of things it shouldn't be. A lot of those things can't be helped, a lot of those things don't hurt anyone, and a lot of those things are not what people even think they truly are.

So you know what?

Talk about your hallucinations, your delusions, your psychotic symptoms. Share things about your gender identity whether it be nonconforming, trans, xenogender or anything else. Scream about your nonhumanity and animal urges. Be open and unwavering about your systems existence, presenting as more-than-one wherever you want. Use and introduce your pronouns, even if people find them weird or offputting. Rock back and forth, pace, twitch and stim in any way you please. Wear things that reflect your identity in public. Get tattoos and body mods to your heart's content. Tell people about your personality disorders.

Don't make yourself small because others can't handle you. Be open where safe. Be you. Be scary.

developing your ocs is 50% waiting for bursts of divine inspiration like an oracle sleeping next the vapours seeping from fissures in the temple floor and 50% stalking them in your mind relentlessly like a persistence predator until they tire out enough for you to get close and scamper away with the bloody scraps of "eye colour: brown" and "dislikes: people who think they're funny" clutched in your mouth like a hunting trophy

Somn

The night falls, and the man lays down to rest. After he falls asleep, something within his body awakens. Something ancient, something strange. Something more like a fungus than a man. It craves the ability to live as his host does, walking about and talking, running, dancing, fighting. However, it has no muscle memory of doing so. It pulls at the man’s body, jerking his limbs until he is eventually on his feet, eyes rolled back, staring blankly ahead. With great effort, the entity pilots the man to walk, one step at a time. Upon reaching the door, the entity struggles to understand the concept of a doorknob. It contorts the man’s arm to smack against it several times, caressing it strangely, before eventually managing to grasp it and open the door. Faced with a new world and full of excitement, the ancient being calls out in excitement, but the man’s mouth only mumbles nonsense. With great effort, it begins to pilot the body down the hall. Suddenly, a voice is heard. “Paul? Paul? What are you doing up, dear?” The entity scrambles for a reply, but can only manage to make the lips form the words “a green camel for the winds.” in reply. A light clicks on, and the man awakes, banishing the entity once more. He stands and blinks, wondering how he got here. “Are you sleepwalking, dear?” He scratches his beard for a moment before replying, “I must have been. Don’t worry love, I’m coming back to bed.” And so, having been caught, the entity rests. Lying in wait for another night, another chance to live like the living.

Reblog this to place a small flower in the hair of prev, and that you're very proud of them