#(who would've guessed?)

[saltwukong]

Completely unsurprised to find that kob13 is a right-winger incel who thinks feminism is a hate movement.

Somehow that just adds up.

[dstantstargazer]

every time i i put these two in a party together i just know it's only a matter of time until they start causing shit

[isjasz]

April 8th (The Celestial Event ☀️)

Super late to the party but here's my piece for @boatemvillagezine, check out everyone's piece over there too if u haven't already :D

also before anyone say anything about the glasses, please read this section specifically thanks i dont want deal with that again /SILLY

[mimilllion]

suppose i should post these here too! starlo doodles because i looooove funny cowboys

[leatherandcigarettes]

The ultimate tumblr sexyman rematch has middle aged tumblr users that haven't been heard of since 2015 clawing their way up from the grave to vote for a disembodied voice as the ultimate internet sex symbol

[ssaanaaloves]

sonamy week 2024 day 6 : red string of fate

[tea-cat-arts]

I simply think this fandom doesn't give Wei Wuxian enough credit for the various ways in which he saved Lan Wangji

[antirepurp]

behold it's the guy who won't chuckle, without and with drip

[pl0tty]

✍️ wip snip 💭

i was tagged by @edieblakewrites and @soliblomst to share an excerpt from something i've been working on :') thank you for tagging me bbs!!! <3

this started out as an entry for a fest but is now just a regular ol' wip i sometimes fantasize about finishing heh.

junior auror potter gets saddled with draco malfoy's parole visit one sunny day and has to check out his potions laboratory while he's there:

There was a furious flush on Malfoy’s face. Harry was clutching his throbbing kneecap when Malfoy swiftly levitated the book into the air and, with a flick of his wand, produced several sheets of paper next to it. He flicked his wand again and the book shot across the room, slamming into an open cabinet, its wooden doors shutting and locking in its wake. The papers fell on top of Harry’s head, then scattered around the floor. “Oops. Sorry,” Malfoy said, sounding extremely unsorry. “Well, those are your copies of the ledger.” Harry glared at him. He pointed his wand at the papers, and they promptly gathered into his outstretched hand. “I wasn’t going to duplicate your weird porn sketches, Malfoy.” “They’re not—!” Malfoy looked pained now. “They’re scientific illustrations, Potter. It’s research. You wouldn’t understand, of course, anything more cerebral than Quidditch Through the Ages goes straight over your head—”  “What kind of scientific purpose requires you to analyse the anatomy of an arsehole?” Harry pressed, completely forgetting himself. It was like Hogwarts all over again, the scarlet colour of his robes at the edge of his vision barely tethering him to his painstakingly cultivated adult persona. “It’s not just the—! It’s also the surrounding…!” Malfoy paused, took a few sharp breaths while looking as if he’d really like to be stomping his foot. “It’s for my formula, alright! For my lubrication potion!” He did stomp his foot then. Harry frowned. “Your what?” “I don’t expect you to understand, of course. Hetero Hero of Our Hearts, Protector of the Straight and Narrow—” “What are you even—” “However,” Malfoy went on, looking bored all of a sudden, his annoyance devolving into his usual, devastating drawl. “Some of us are a little bent, Potter. Some of us are very bent, actually, and keen on exploring ways in which we can bring pleasure to our bodies beyond what we get from the very utilitarian Lubrico.” Harry felt the fight leak out of him. “You’re…bent?” “Yes,” Malfoy said, raising his chin. “Are you going to write that down in your little form?” Heat rushed to Harry’s face. “Er, no. That’s. Not necessary.” “Whatever,” Malfoy said. “You can. I don’t care. Write it all down, see if I stop you.” “Of course I’m not going to—” “Please,” pressed Malfoy, voice coming out kind of reedy now. “I can help. The parolee has been spending his time on house arrest renovating his mansion and perfecting his formula for homemade lube. How’s that sound?”

tagging @appleslightning @fluxweeed @itsphantasmagoria @fastbrother @fanarthasmyheart if u wanna share ur lovely sketches/words 💕

[illmoraineakoi]

Do you guys think that when Dark was dying, he knew it, and became so overwhelmed by the visceral fear of his inevitable incoming death that he started desperately pleading to Alan to somehow come save him?

A forsaken creation, dying and agonized, desperately reaching out to his creator in a last ditch attempt at salvation.

A child, begging for it's parent's help, because they're scared and they don't want to die.

[pondslime]

AN AMERICAN WEREWOLF IN LONDON (1981)  dir. John Landis

[koddlet]

also reposting the march music zine that was dedicated to the mind electric, because i didn't do it justice either!!!! some sketches under the cut 👇

[your-stranger-halfblood-things]

Neil definitely took Todd's messed up poems out of the trash and hid them under his mattress after reading them because they were a treasure to him. He didn't mention them to anyone and swore that he'd take the "bad" poems home with him over the summer.

They weren't bad, not in his eyes. How could they be? Todd made them. Anything Todd made was absolutely amazing. So that's why he kept them. And when Todd was in the bathroom or down the hall, Neil would take these poems out and read them.

He loved every single one of them. He loved seeing Todd's work before Todd could perfect it. It was like seeing a new side of him. It made him love the other boy even more.

When Neil died, Todd found Neil's bed stripped. He had still not accepted his friend's death, but it didn't matter because no asked him, it already was sealed.

The curious thing though, was that when the bed was stripped, Neil's collection of Todd's poetry was found and thrown away in the same trash where he originally found it. And when Todd went to throw away another piece he'd failed at making, he saw his own crumpled work from months before staring back at him.

He was confused. He had thrown those out months ago, but what was it doing here? He threw them out because they were terrible and his work was worth nothing, not even a penny. If Neil was here, he'd tell him otherwise. If Neil was here, he'd be holding up the papers before Todd could throw them out and say something along the lines of "Todd, this is amazing. You are amazing! Your work, it's fabulous! I want to perform it some day" but then Todd would still throw it out.

Had Neil kept them? Every mistake he made? Every crumpled up price of trash?

Todd fell to his knees. Neil, the one person with true belief in him, was dead. If only he listened to Neil, if he saved his work and shared it. If he had talked to Neil more and helped him-

Todd was sobbing and pulling at his hair, gagging on his own spit. He tried muttering an apology, he wasn't sure if it was to his old work or Neil's ghost, but either way, he was blabbering his sorries.

If they had had more time, they could have talked about this, but they can't. Neil is dead. Gone. Never coming back. So no, they couldn't talk about this.

Instead, Todd would stay a crying mess, sobbing sorries until Charlie found him and helped him up.

[mydream-synopsis]

endo and takiishi's section from the wb exhibition!!!

(they even recreated the qr code for the furin chat too)

[ddddd-pixels]

So. That Year Two announcement, huh?

[ubejamjar]

day 10 - dusk

Ajisai knew hunger; it'd been a dull aching thing in her belly that, left unfed, grew teeth and claws. Ajisai knew hunger and that's why she hated Yuhelmeric. Only a man of faith would be so foolish as to listen for an eikon that never answers while his men begged for their lives. And when they'd tried to save themselves, what did he do? He killed them, slaughtered them like animals, and served them to the survivors. Savage, indeed.

auraugust promptos