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#( can't stop won't stop )
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top5series · 2 years
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Tumblr Top 5 - Episode 2: Poor Little Meow Meows
Tune in to witness Shane Madej and Ryan “the people’s lister” Bergara of @wearewatcher discussing their top five poorest, littlest, meow-est (?) meows. Stay to be dumbfounded (or not!) by #1 on Coppy’s flirty little list.
If you don’t know what a poor little meow meow is, turn back! Save yourself! If you know what a poor little meow meow is - we’re sorry, but it’s too late for you.
*flash warning*
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samantitheos · 8 months
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It's not my fault if every single post I see makes me think of them.
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diesel-punk · 25 days
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Our emo lord and savior, Shadow T Hedgehog, running on water.
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reddie-as-ill-ever-be · 2 months
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Cobra Kai + Textposts
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crowley-anthony · 1 year
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"smitten" (。♥‿♥。)
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icapturedthecastle · 5 months
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FFVII + some of my favorite shitposts, part... 10?
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hraugur · 1 year
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oh, to be hopelessly besotted with an extrovert as an introvert
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noahreids · 2 months
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Opening Moves with Nicholas Galitzine for Bumble [3/3]
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finemealprompt · 5 months
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DP x DC Prompt #43
Cujo was a good boy. He was! He promises! He just didn't want to sit still when Danny asked him to. How could he! There were so many scents to explore, so many spirits around, too many things to do to sit still!
Unfortunately, Cujo got lost. And scared. It's a big city, and he was told he wasn't allowed to turn big and go on a rampage or else he wouldn't get to go on trips with Danny anymore. So he wanders, trying to get back to where he was.
Then, a young boy runs across Cujo. He speaks softly, is kind, and doesn't seem off put by his abnormal coloring. So, Cujo decides to go with the boy! Danny won't be that mad ... right?
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ishkabibblethings · 10 months
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im-his-druidess · 1 year
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More pictures of Peter Steele from Type-O Negative that make me think of Vincent Sinclair from House of Wax 🕯️😌🕯️
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(No I will not stop talking about this. Yes this is a hill I will die on)
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gigglesandfreckles-hp · 4 months
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amenable parameters
It’s a childish game. “Truth or dare, Lil?” “Dare,” she replies without hesitation, leaning back into the worn leather booth. “Obviously.” Hestia’s eyes gleam. “Go snog Potter.” It’s a stupid, stupid childish bloody game. “No,” Lily says firmly. “Pick something else. We’re Heads together. And friends.” She turns to Mary for support, but her best friend only tilts her head and shrugs. “I think I want to see this, Lily.” Lily stares at her, feeling utterly betrayed. “You’re joking.” “What’s the big deal?” Mary asks. “Like you said, you’re friends now. It’s just a dare.” “No way.” “Come on, Lil,” Hestia groans, “don’t be a spoilsport!” “You dared me to kiss Benjy!” Mary adds. “I can’t,” Lily begs, “and you would have given Benjy a bloody lap dance, even if no one had dared you.” “He’s still in love with you and you know it,” Hestia says pointedly. “Potter?” Lily yelps, her voice rising. “At least you lot don’t have to sit through the prefect meetings and watch him moon over her for the entire hour,” Marlene chimes in. “He does not—” “He does. Even Lupin agrees,” Marlene counters. “And you know how those boys are. They tell each other everything.” Lily certainly hopes not. “I’m not going to just walk over there and…snog him.” “Of course you’re not. Consent is important, Lily.” Hestia leans forward, her elbows resting on the table between them. “You’re going to ask him if he feels amenable to having your tongue down his throat. And then you’re going to snog him.” “Jesus, Hestia,” Lily hisses, shutting her eyes tight.  “What? You think he’d say no?” “Of course he wouldn’t,” says Mary, betraying Lily once again. Lily chances a glance over to the table where the Marauders sit, a collection of empty and half-drunk Butterbeer glasses strewn between them. Peter seems to be regaling them with some story, his hands flying around in animation. “I really can’t.” “Give us a reason,” Hestia challenges. “And not that rubbish about you being Heads. You think Emmeline and Eddy weren’t snogging all last year?” “I just…” Lily’s voice trails off as she glances at the boys’ table again, this time allowing herself to linger on James. He wears a dark blue jumper, sleeves pushed up to his elbows in that casually maddening way. As if on cue, he throws his head back and laughs. Even though Lily is too far away to hear over the din of the Three Broomsticks, she can still pick out his laugh. She can find it in the middle of a hurricane, in the chaos of a war. She hears it in the halls, in her dreams. She wants to hear it forever. Hestia clears her throat, snapping Lily back to the present. She looks back to find three pairs of amused eyes fixed on her. “Please don’t make me,” she mutters miserably.
continue reading on ao3
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Harry is at a Quidditch game, and he’s having a dreadful time. There should be some universal rule that negates this possibility. It’s Quidditch, he’s Harry – it’s the perfect pairing. He should be watching the Wimbourne Wasps crush the Ballycastle Bats and munching on some delightful treacle Sugar Sweeps while enjoying his first date in months.
Except they only have the licorice-flavoured Sugar Sweeps.
Except his team is losing horrendously.
Except his date – Jeanine, or Jeannie; something with a J – is more interested in flirting with anyone other than him. She’d tried to catch the eye of the unfairly attractive man sitting on Harry’s other side for a good twenty minutes. When she made no progress, her attention shifted to orchestrating a threesome with her friend and Draco. Rude.
(And no matter how far they’ve come from the bitter rivalry of their youth, Harry still hates to lose to Mal– Draco. He’d feel worse about that if the other man didn’t feel the exact same way – and if the prat looked less bloody smug.)
This is the last time he lets the blond convince him to go on a blind double-date. Merlin, what was he thinking when he agreed to this?
The Wasps call a timeout to discuss strategy (not that it’s likely to help at this point) and that’s when the worst of it happens. Some genius decided Quidditch needed a kiss cam for the slower moments of a match. If Harry ever finds out who, he’s going to hex their toes off.
That’s the thought that runs through his mind as he sees himself and Jacqueline on each of the floating screens bobbing around the Quidditch stadium.
His eyes slide helplessly to the side, where Jasmine is already inching away from him. This is so bloody embarrassing. He can feel his cheeks redden in mortification and is sure his deer-in-the-headlights expression will be immortalised in tomorrow’s Daily Prophet.
He sure wishes he had a time turner – he’d go back to this morning and stay in bed the whole day.
He can hear laughter breaking out from the other spectators the longer the camera lingers on him. Why haven’t they moved on to another pair? Or at the very least shifted three feet to the right; Harry’s certain Jolene and her friend or Draco (or hell, all three, why not) would be happy to give the viewers a show.
And then he feels a tap on his left shoulder. 
It’s not that he’d forgotten about the extremely hot man sitting to his left. But the reminder of the human perfection to his side while this debacle unfolds kind of makes him want to stand up and leave. Or blow something up.
He turns to Mr. Sex-on-Legs and smiles weakly. The man returns his smile, and while it’s a little sharp, it’s not mocking. Hurray for small mercies.
“May I?” Unreasonably Handsome Stranger asks.
“Uh,” Harry replies eloquently. May he what? Harry swiftly decides he doesn’t need more details. This man could be asking for his kidney and as long as it makes this whole situation less painful, Harry’s on board. “Sure…?”
Unreasonably Handsome Stranger tilts Harry’s face up and swoops in. Harry can’t stop the confused squeak from leaving him – so much for less shameful – and then he’s being kissed within an inch of his life. Holy shite.
This is awesome.
Harry kind of forgets why this man is kissing him and what’s going on around him, because it doesn’t matter. The most gorgeous person he’s ever seen in real life is pressing his lips against Harry’s with intent, with skill – is that his tongue? All higher brain functions have ceased in order to enjoy this moment to the fullest.
When they finally pull back for air, Harry finds his hands are gripping the man’s collar and holding him close. He figures that’s fine, considering the man has one hand wound through Harry’s hair and the other is still cupping his jaw.
“Wow,” Harry breathes, brain still taking a break from thinking. The other man smirks knowingly at him, and Harry would probably take offence to that if the man’s perfectly formed cheekbones weren’t flushed pink, showing he’s not as unaffected as he might pretend to be.
“Er. I’m Harry.”
“Tom.”
“Nice to meet you, Tom.”
This makes Smokin' Hot Tom chuckle, which in turn makes his eyes crinkle up adorably. Oh bother – Harry might be in trouble.
He’s aware, peripherally, that someone behind him is aggressively clearing their throat. He only bothers to care about it when Tom shoots an unimpressed look at the source of the noise.
When Harry turns to follow Tom’s gaze, he comes face to face with an irate Julienne, her glaring friend, and Draco, who can’t seem to decide whether he’s impressed or pissed off.
He shrugs, grinning dopily. “It just isn’t going to work out, Josephine.”
She gives him a baleful look. “My name is Petra.”
Whoops. Not even close. “Sorry – Petra. Have fun with Draco and …your friend.”
He sends a teasing salute to Draco and starts dragging Tom towards the exit. Speaking of having fun – he’s sure they can find an alcove somewhere around here to continue what Tom started.
Harry’s picture is indeed in the Prophet the next day. But he supposes that’s only to be expected when he’s caught publicly snogging the visiting ambassador from the French Ministry of Magic.
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m0ose-idiot · 5 months
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The little ones were so excited to find another ghost living in the adjacent field! Unfortunately Maddocks just found them all profoundly, profoundly annoying, bless him 👻🤍🦡
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tench · 14 days
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I tend to overexplain why I like cassarric so much with all the tasty parallels and story significance and how their lives and beliefs clash and intertwine while their characters complement each other. They are just so full of such interesting potential-
Meanwhile, in my brain:
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