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Deep End cover for Illumicrate Afterlight and Ali Hazelwood🩵

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Misery Lark by the hands of Lowe Moreland

PLEASE HIM DRAWING HER THIS MAN IM OBSESSED

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ohmygod

Wip of Lowe Moreland and his wife Misery Lark

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Bride headers

like/reblog if saved © maddiesflame

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Love when Misery and Lowe sarcastically refer to each other as "husband" and "wife" and other pet names!

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Lowe's sketch of Misery 🖤🩸🐺

from @ever-so-ali 's "bride".

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i’m obsessed with the mum from ponyo. driving single lane on a cliff edge? drift those turns in your nissan cube. husband has to work an extra shift? tell him to fuck off in morse code. pet fish turned into a child on your driveway? adopt her. town drowned in a tsunami? leave your 5 year old in charge, he’s the man of the house now

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If this is in your dashboard you are going to be kissed like that in 2025.

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As a countdown to Onyx Storm’s release date, I’ve decided to post my favorite quotes, one per day, in no particular order.

I miss Tairn’s sass so much 😭

Only 28 more days until the wait is over!

“One does not live a century without being well aware of the space one takes up.”

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I think we all forget that Violet has a lot of trauma.

I feel like because Xaden's trauma gets talked about so often we forget about Violet and all that she has been through. We all forget about Violets mental health. Xaden may be visibly sad and broken but Violet really hides all of her mental health issues. She has all these insecurities and anxieties and she has no idea who to talk about them with. She tried talking to Xaden but he just told her that "he thinks she's perfect so Violet should too" but that's not how it works. And obviously this is because Xaden also doesn't know how to process his emotions but the problem is that when he opens up Violet is always ready to listen and help. Xaden as much as he tries doesn't know how to help Violet so she is forced to carry everything alone. By saying this I am not in anyway trying to belittle Xaden's trauma I just think that Violet deserves a little more grace from the fandom and a little more support from Xaden.

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Violet: *Does something charming* Xaden: Hmph, I don't care. Narrator: But he did care.

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Why Tumblr? Why do you, an actual celebrity, a famous writer, use Tumblr of all websites?

(The actual celebrity and world famous writer sits back in his rocking chair, surveys the world of Tumblr, from his porch. He chews meditatively on a straw, and then he says:)

TACAWFW: Y'see, I've been here for nigh on twelve years now, which in new-fangled internet years is about four hundred years... yup, I remember when all this wuz just folks trading photos of cats, and I remember when over there, where it's now just waste land, that whole part of town was whut we used to call 'Not safe for work" -- hooey, I don't know where those folks went, when they got driv out of town -- but me, through those twelve years, I've just been in this old rockin' chair on this old porch, and I've seen 'em come and I've seen 'em go... I guess I mus' just' like it here...

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“Dirtyhands had come to see the rough work done”

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bridgerton wallpapers

like if you save :)

credits to @katebridgs on twitter

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anthony bridgerton + memes

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Murdock and Son (Matt Murdock x fem!Reader)

PART 1 – Jumping Jack

Summary: Sleepy morning snuggles with Matt get interrupted by your excitable little boy, who’s very, very awake.

Tags: dad!Matt, fluff, humour

Warnings: none

Word count: 1.1k

The best kind of mornings start like this. Snuggled under the covers, only half-awake, sliding together until there’s no space in between. With every warm touch, your body’s blissfully heated up. You feel the hardness of Matt’s stomach against your spine and the rise and fall of his breathing as he kind-of sleeps on. Eyes closed but alert: he’s not fooling you. Adjusting your head on the pillow, you see in the dawn light he’s all mussed; nothing like the combed-down formality of an office day.

You whisper: ‘Are you awake?’

He groans and draws you back down in reply. He’d been out roaming last night. A euphemism. Thankfully no bumps this time. ‘Bumps’ was another code you’d made up, for in front of the little one. ‘Bumps’ said nothing about the emotional up and downs: waiting around, not knowing when he’d be back; what injuries he’d have; or if he’d met the one thing that would better him. Yet asking him to give up would be like asking him to tear out his soul.

For now, he was here and you were content to have the mussed-up sleepyhead safe in bed and curling an arm around you, palm against the curve of your waist and stroking you softly back to sleep.

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