⋆˖⁺‧₊☽◑●◐☾₊‧⁺˖⋆

Drawing based on this photo my friends took:

okay so

be a goth. conservative christian parents don't approve of goth men. show up to their house wearing all kinds of satanic symbols if you can

know more about religion than the parents. they'll try to introduce you to christianity because you don't exactly look like a christian but your dad's an ex priest and has a phd in theology so *cracks knuckles* you'll correct them on every little mistake they make

call your fake girlfriend every annoying petname under the sun. i'm talking about babu, shmoopie, snuffleupagus. when you run out of annoying english terms of endearment call her shit like "my liver" or "my little cabbage" (actual greek terms of endearments but the parents won't know this they'll just think you're annoying :3)

to continue this, talk to your fake girlfriend in the most high pitched annoying voice possible but talk in your regular voice to everyone else

stare at her older brother's ass for just a little too long

have an annoying laugh. think of sybil fawlty but a stereotypical villain playing a church organ in his castle

let them quote bible verses to you. then ask "so when were those two destroyed for sodomy?". it's very funny to do this when judas kisses jesus, and it's even funnier when you've just corrected them over a minor mistake in church history

ask WHY abraham was begging for sodom. it doesn't make sense to you why a good christian man would go and beg for tha-

be over possessive of your fake gf (dont really do this, it's just an act)

go and fuck her brother in an alleyway. the parents won't know about this so it's an optional step

use words no one knows the meaning of. do this without realising because you always talk like that

This is better than I'd ever hoped for, I bet a rat could kill you with that thing by firing a laser back in time and electrocuting your grandfather

Just look at this thing

This is getting notes again so I will admit that "rat gun" was an autocorrect error and it was supposed to be "ray gun."

It was actually $75.

Because the moths themselves don’t eat and only live long enough to mate and then starve to death, the entire culture is made up of children and adolescents. The older children raise the younger ones, with families being made up of hatchmates from different years.

Because molts and eventual transformation into a short lived adult happen on a set schedule, families have a cycle— when your oldest set of siblings cocoon to become adults, you wait at the mating grounds and try to adopt their newborns after they pass. If that fails, you take any ‘orphans’ you can find.

Because death and birth are nearly simultaneous, they have a religion based around reincarnation, and infants with markings similar to a parent are often given their name. Claiming the offspring of a beloved family member is vitally important, because you want to be able to protect their soul and keep them close.

Because it’s hard to track the offspring of your male family members, there are sometimes major fights when a family sees an infant with familiar markings in another family’s clutch.

I imagine a more effective form of carrying things would be something like saddlebags on a caterpillar horse blanket for their rear halves. flying moths would likely symbolize rebirth- this might be a mourning/celebration of rebirth cloak that the older sibling here is wearing.

Szulitya, Wolf of the Court

Imagine someone took high budget documentary footage of otters, asked George R R Martin to write fanfiction about the otters, then spent a ton of money producing it into a tv show where British people voice over the first-person narrative of the otters to put on HBO.

I am literally only on episode one and so far the exposition has included high society otter queens talking absolute royal smack about each other, musing their plans for war, and worrying about their territory and linage, all whilst praying for guidance from their otter ancestors and gathering information from their TURTLE SPIES.

TURTLE. SPIES.

you walk into a world you cannot understand, frozen and dying, and it is you who thaws it. you who kills the witch, you who breaks the stone table, you who slays the wolf. it is you who is crowned and it is you who wails for two worlds when the wardrobe doors shut behind you.

your skin never sits quite right and your teeth are too dull. there are wars in your bones and decades in your eyes before you can reach the telephone on the wall.

you are king. you are queen. they won't let you read the newspapers at breakfast.

it calls you back from beyond a train and from within paint. begs with bloody palms and salt-crusted cheeks. takes from you all that you can give - and sends you back.

you watch your sister fade.

you are a child twice and an adult once. and when you stand in your home again, with crushed bones and the smell of coal still in your nose, you watch them sneer at your sister.

your sister is the sun above you. she is, beautiful and stone-cast, alive in a world you could never stomach. she smiles, still, and stretches her skin over human bones.