════════════⋆˙⟡ Rachel~30~They/Them ⋆˙⟡═════════════
newsflash, it's all ooc. we made them faggots
══════⋆˙⟡ ART ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ WRITING ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ Ao3 ⋆˙⟡══════
Current Projects Under Cut

Origami Around
untitled
tumblr dot com
Xuebing Du

Love Begins


izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms
Keni
taylor price
EXPECTATIONS
occasionally subtle
art blog(derogatory)
macklin celebrini has autism
Jules of Nature
todays bird
almost home
Show & Tell

Discoholic 🪩
seen from Türkiye
seen from Bangladesh
seen from Israel
seen from United States
seen from Vietnam

seen from United Kingdom

seen from Malaysia
seen from South Africa

seen from Germany

seen from Japan

seen from United States

seen from Malaysia

seen from United States
seen from Argentina

seen from Germany

seen from Türkiye

seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from United Kingdom

seen from South Africa
seen from United Kingdom
@swifty-fox
════════════⋆˙⟡ Rachel~30~They/Them ⋆˙⟡═════════════
newsflash, it's all ooc. we made them faggots
══════⋆˙⟡ ART ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ WRITING ⋆˙⟡ ⋆˙⟡ Ao3 ⋆˙⟡══════
Current Projects Under Cut

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one of the tweets of all time to me
when i was a teenager i used to catch myself thinking "i'm really glad i'm alive right now because of all the cool personal technologies that exist" and when i did i'd think it through and reckon that well, its not like teenagers in the 70s and 80s knew they didnt have ipods or facebook or whatever. they were also happy with the tech they had. and i'd reason that in the future there would be more fun technologies that i dont know i'm missing out on right now and the future will be an even cooler time to exist
anyway i was dead fucking wrong about that last part. i hate personal technologies now. i miss having an ipod that doesnt advertise shit to me and i miss when my htc wildfire didnt harass me 45 times a day to install an ai assistant and then install it anyway when i say no and i miss when the internet wasnt 5 websites all of which i have to log into and i miss when i didnt need an app to talk to my landlord. sorry past me you were actually right about 2009
so grateful to this movie for inspiring me to draw again :)

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how did i not know andy cohen is gay
thinking about Breathing universe and how the playlists for it have been, predominantly melancholy indie songs. A lot of the smut fics I write I try to put on sensual/sexual music, something that feels fast-paced and intense. But so much of what I'm exploring in Breathing is like....the mental and emotional journey of Gale coming to terms with his shame and masculinity. and like yeah it's through SEX and i WANT the scenes to be horny but the mindset I'm in is like....what is this doing emotionally to Gale. And so the songs are not. horny.
Anyways that is to say here's the playlist for the benny/brady breathing au fic
Czech matchbox. 1960s.
Internet Archive
a portrait of hunter | leviticus
as usual, there's the time-lapse and some rambling below the cut:
it's not surprising, of course. to many, a dog being euthanized for attacking a person is a tragedy. poor thing was in a bad environment you see, it didn't deserve to die. and to many, every criminal should be put to death. they are inherently cruel and cannot change, any sentence more lenient than death is an injustice to their victims. why might a dog maul someone? well clearly the poor thing was a victim, it was circumstance that spurred it to violence. why might a person mug someone? clearly they have a corrupt soul, incapable and unworthy of empathy. they were spurred to criminality by their own sick nature. so to say, in their eyes, a human criminal is less human than a dog

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The truth of the matter is that if you’re going to seriously pursue writing, not every line can go hard. It can’t be hard 100% of the time, or the hard just becomes soft. Sometimes the line just has to get the writing from point a to point b.
Ok like. Imagine life without ads. You wake up, check your messages across a variety of apps, no ads. You get up and put on the tv while you prep your breakfast, no ads. Maybe you drive somewhere and switch on the radio, no ads. Maybe you drive a long distance, yet somehow, not a single billboard on your path. You pick up a newspaper or magazine to pass the time, no advertisements only articles. You turn on your game console, the home screen is just about your games, no ads to buy more. You open a streaming app, you don't pay extra for no ads, there's just no ads ever.
Think about how much of your time is spent looking at ads. "Download ublock" yeah I know, I have. But that doesn't change that the world is covered with endless advertising. Imagine never seeing that again. How much better our lives would be.
when england lose, women bruise
reblogging with prev tags
sometimes i find a fic that could be so good if the author would just like use spellcheck and grammar check one single time and standardize their spelling and every time this happens i feel like i’m a time traveller finding the best basketball player that has ever lived but they are an 8 year old child in mesopotamia. please come with me. please. i can show you the way. you can change the world if you let me show you the way….
can I have prompt 17 for caustin 👉👈
¹⁷⁾ a fractured pelvis – clegan
Buck flew a plane like some guys smoked a cigarette– laissez-faire and as an afterthought to anything else going on. Rehearsed until it became instinct, flew like a bird or an angel or maybe just a man with a lot less inhibitions than he’d prefer polite company to know. John had been bored by him, at first, too peachy and pompous and buttoned up; allergic to fun and John’s good cheer in equal measure. Until John had seen him fly, begrudging to give up the left seat until he realized that Gale had something with the beast that John could never have. Gale behind the yoke was a savant, a god. Sometimes John thought it a science, other times an art. Maybe Gale had just found the perfect middle ground between both; flew a plane like he’d never heard of gravity.
Even his belly-up landing in Algeria had been as tender and graceful as laying a baby down on a pillow.
“ –happened?” Gale murmurs, vowels curved wth an accent made strong and loose by the sedatives running through his veins.
His face was red, scraped up like they had on posters, doing everything but ruin the prettiness of it. John had never before seen a man wear a black eye well.
John sets his paper down, beating the two nurses who rush forward to rest a palm carefully on Gale’s chest. Preventing him from sitting up. “Stay put for a sec for me, would you, Buck? Came up on the ground a little too fast.” Gale fights back against him, feeble as the bird that had once crashed through his mother's kitchen window; wings fluttering and weak, neck broken, and dark eyes beady with pain. It had died before John could think about putting it out of its misery. Gale’s eyes were blown, misty and confused, lashes stuck together. John remembers them pulling his doll-jointed body from the belly of the ship.”Had to take off the nose before we could get you out.”
Gale’s eyes flicker back and forth, taking in the room, the nurses still hovering, John’s face. “My–”
“Boys are fine,” John promises, “everybody walked away. DeMarco’s gonna need a sling for a while, but he’s already back in the barracks.”
Gale’s throat bobs. Swallowing dryly over and over. John can see the wet shine in them, exhaustion giving way to memory. John rubs his palm up and down slowly over Gale’s chest, the wrapped ribs where the yoke had slammed into them and cracked his sternum, light over the tight bandages. The nurses were still hovering. John can’t touch him any more than this.
“Crumpled up that old bird like a tin can, Buck,” he says quietly. “Doc says you cracked your pelvis right in two. Says you’re lucky even still.”
“Lucky,” Gale laughs, voice crackling.
Several days later realizing I misread this….sorry anon

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teeth hole fingering