Finished redrawn icons !! Decided to redraw my well known Sal and Larry icons !! hope you guys like the reboot ^^ Heading on working Ash, Todd and Chug into another icon set.
salarry icons i did for me and my bestie and for your daily needs!! with bonus sketch vs final art!!!
feel free to use and credit is not obligatory but id be super appreciated!
Hello hi here’s my Trigger Happy Havoc redesigns
Some Hiro doodles I had as I was figuring out how to draw his hair into my art style
Tumblr users are often so arrogant and it shows. They can draw a full cast of POC characters but when POC say "Hey we want more than just our skin tone" they're suddenly deaf as shit.
Representation on Tumblr has become a way for white people to win brownie points just because they took a Hershey's bar and slapped it onto a person's skin tone.
The most disgusting thing is that they insist on making JUST African-Americans. They insist on making JUST one facial type, one nose type, one lip type, one hair type, one slang type, one skin tone.
And when they make a person Asian, it's Japanese. And when they make a person Hispanic, it's Mexican. And when they make a person indigenous, they never specify on which tribe/nation they came from, but you'll bet they're Native AMERICAN.
But my favorite part is when other POC demand representation and those same fucking white people are like "But but but look at all my black characters!!!!"
POC isn't just confined to America.
POC isn't just black.
POC isn't just Japanese.
POC isn't just Mexican.
POC isn't just Native American.
It's from the Miskitu in Nicaragua, from the highlands of Ethiopia, from the deserts of Saudi Arabia, from the mountains of Indonesia. It's from the arroz con gandules, from the folk music, from the festivals. It's many cultures blending, it's speaking more than just English, it's dealing with racism unique to our countries of origin.
It's more than just one universal experience, and white Tumblr isn't willing to show that.
Basically for the people who refuse to fucking read
Can you guys do some actual fucking research on anywhere other than whats at the borders of America before you slap a random ethnicity or race onto a character?
Btw: White people PLEASE reblog but do not clown on the post.
i love lesbians
i love lesbians of color
i love trans lesbians
i love they/them and he/him lesbians
i love fat lesbians
i love all you lesbians
non lesbians can reblog!!! support and love all lesbians!!!
I love non-binary lesbians
I love disabled lesbians
S/O to my LGBT boys tonight we’re all pretty rad
Everyone can reblog this to spread love to their fave gay, bi or trans boy
And ace boys!!
Good addition let’s spread this version around instead please
The signs and their kinks
Aries: Likes hair pulling, hickeys, spanking, angry sex, likes to dominate and be dominated, enjoys being slapped, and roughness.
Taurus: Likes being tied up, spanked, is usually submissive, into bdsm, exhibitionism, and lowkey daddy kink.
Gemini: Likes shoulder and neck kisses, public sex, shower sex, enjoys stroking of the inner thigh, also into bondage and choking.
Cancer: Likes thigh grabbing, body stroking, neck and collarbone kisses, being choked, soft moans, and wandering hands.
Leo: Enjoys being teased, thigh and neck kisses, is usually submissive but likes to take control once in a while, likes ass grabbing, and likes teasing.
Virgo: Is submissive, likes being held down, neck kisses, likes being pushed against a wall, also likes hickeys, and shoulder kisses.
Libra: Likes spanking, choking, biting, bondage, hickeys, roleplaying, bdsm, pet names, also likes to dominate on occasions.
Scorpio: Likes soft kissing, light skin touches, is usually submissive, probably has a daddy kink, likes being taken care of and enjoys shower sex.
Sagittarius: Enjoys the moaning of their partners, being pushed against a wall, likes biting, and spanking, enjoys being dominated but casually likes to switch it up.
Capricorn: Likes to dominate, enjoys being choked, is into foreplay, bdsm, biting, likes being chased, and may also on some occasions want to be dominated.
Aquarius: Enjoys bondage, likes biting and marking, spanking, bdsm, neck kisses, ass grabbing and rough sex.
Pisces: Likes having their throat held, loves lip biting and being bitten, sometimes like to be dominant, likes exhibitionism, foreplay and bdsm.
i dont think whites understand how being white makes literally everything easier.
it effects everything.
being trans is easier when youre white.
being gay is easier when youre white.
being disabled is easier when youre white.
being a woman is easier when youre white.
being autistic is easier when youre white.
oppression is eased when you are white, as you get extra privileges, and your whiteness is seen as a positive characteristic that in some ways counter-balances your other forms of being a minority. whiteness controls everything.
you are automatically way more innocent in your own oppression as a gay, trans, disabled person because of your whiteness.
never forget this.
i wanna see all my white followers reblogging this
For The Masses:
no one coulda reblogged this a month ago when i spent 500
Look at KB coming through
Every time you see this, reblog it. There is always someone in college that will see this.
To Earth (Part 6)
John Murphy/Reader
Warnings: Mentions of drinking, violence (guns, hanging, etc.)
Chapter Summary: You convince Bellamy to let you trade places with Jasper inside the drop ship.
“Bellamy, let me go in.” You tell him. “I know Murphy. I’ll get him to stand down.”
“He’s got a gun, I don’t think-“
You cut him off. “He’s going to go nuts if the guy who kicked the chair from under him is the only other person in the room.” You take the walkie talkie from your waistband, handing it back to him.
Bellamy nods. “Okay Murphy! Coming in!” He shouts.
You silently plead that the door to the drop ship will open, and within a couple of seconds, it does.
“Good luck.” Bellamy whispers.
You clench your jaw, walking up the metal ramp and parting the thin curtain.
Murphy looks like hell. His face red, knuckles white from the death grip on the gun. “What the hell are you doing here?”
You help Jasper out, and then pull the lever, effectively closing the door once again. It’s now just you and him, and Raven working on the wires below, but Murphy didn’t have to know that there was a third person in the drop ship.
“I can’t let you have Bellamy.” You say.
“Why not? You saw what he did to me. I saw your reaction.” His jaw is tense, and you can see his grip on the gun tightening. He’s bluffing. He may not even know it, but you do.
“I know why you wanted Bellamy in here. You want him to feel the same pain you felt. You want him to panic when he realizes that his neck’s not broken and he’s going to have to spend three minutes fighting for air with his face turning blue. You want him to suffer in front of someone who hates him.”
You hold Murphy’s gaze throughout the confrontation. His eyes are stone cold, boring straight into yours. You can see nothing but murder.
“How the hell do you not care?” He screams at you. “I saw you. No one listened to you. How do you not want this?”
“If you do this to Bellamy, Octavia’s going to suffer like I did. Worse, because he’s going to be dead. Do you want that?”
He doesn’t say anything.
“You just said you saw me. And let me tell you, it was terrible, watching you hurt, and knowing I couldn’t do anything about it. I wouldn’t wish that upon any other human being.” You reach up, cupping his jaw with your hand, your thumb gently moving over the corner of his bottom lip. “I don’t know what I would have done if they killed you. So please, give me the gun, Murphy.” You whisper gently.
Suddenly, you hear a muffled swear from underneath the floor, and you panic.
“Fuck!” Murphy’s nostrils flare, and he backs up, in the direction of the noise. He presses the trigger of the gun, and a stream of seven bullets come out.
You thank God that he’s a lousy aim with the kickback from the large gun. The bullets land in the wall, piercing the metal with pellet sized dents.
“Murphy, give me the gun!” You try to keep your voice as steady as possible, but you can hear it crack.
He fumbles with the trigger of the gun, seeing it’s stuck. You quickly wrench the gun out of his grip, and with shaking fingers unload the magazine, putting it in your back pocket and kicking the weapon to the other side of the room.
“Breathe, John.”
You hadn’t seen him for a couple of weeks, and you thought it strange. He made it a point to visit your tiny apartment every Monday and Thursday.
As if he had answered your call, there was a knock on the door. You glanced quickly towards the closed bedroom door; Your mother was hungover yet again and you didn’t need her waking up. She’d only pull out another bottle.
“Hi.” You smiled as you opened the door. You looked forward to these visits. You were eleven, he only a year older, and he was your only friend, not to mention the one who practically kept you alive. A couple years ago, your mother had taken to drinking, wanting to leave all her problems behind. Of course, that meant drinking behind closed quarters, so no one really knew what was going on in your family. Your mother hardly managed to make enough money for three meals a day, let alone her drinks, so you often went to bed hungry.
Since you were eight, John Murphy had been stealing protein packets for you. You were never his responsibility, but he cared for you regardless.
When you opened the door after greeting him, his face was sullen. You ushered him into the tiny apartment, closing the door behind him.
“Are you okay?” You asked him. “My mother’s sleeping in the other room. She’s hungover.”
At the mention of your mother, he looked down at the floor. “They floated my dad.”
Your heart skipped a beat in shock. “Why?” His parents had always been such good people.
“He stole some medicine for me. I got sick a couple weeks ago. Now he’s dead and my mom’s drinking.”
“I’m sorry.” You whispered.
“It’s all my fault. If I hadn’t have gotten sick none of this would have happened-“
“It’s not your fault, John.”
He seemed to anger then, face reddening. “It’s all my fault! I’m always messing things up!”
He quickly spun around, punching the door as hard as he could, and you knew it had to hurt.
He started crying, then. Sobbing, really. This was new; completely out of place for his character. He sunk to the floor, head in his hands, and you could see his knuckles were bloodied.
“Breathe, John. It’s okay. I’m here.”
Suddenly, he punches the wall, his fist colliding with metal. He screams, and you can tell it’s both from the pain and the frustration.
You could hear faint yelling from the outside of the drop ship; probably Bellamy wondering if you were still alive after the gunshots, but you tune them out.
Murphy punches the wall again, leaving a bloody streak of red.
“John-“
“I don’t want your pity!” He screams, sliding down the wall, and sitting on the floor with his head in his hands.
You sit down next to him, unable to bear him crying. It’s been so long since the last time the two of you sat like this, him completely vulnerable to the world. You hugged him gently, letting him cry into your shoulder.
“Breathe, John. It’s okay. I’m here.“
if you would be so kind as to reblog this if you feel insecure about your writing skills.
Give.
Me.
A.
Gay.
Christmas.
Movie.
Or I will riot
it’s almost 2019 can we recognize that crutchie is actually one of the strongest characters in newsies, both physically and mentally since he has to walk with a crutch all day and deal with the idea of him possibly slowing everyone else down, and all the shit people throw at him, etc. in this essay i will