#Black people have NO friends

[cowardlykrow]

Stop light shenanigans

Extra:

[barksbog]

Hydrosaurus Hours!

i got two Sailfin Lizards looking for homes, they are fully designed and made by me. With about 105cm/3.4ft lenght they are big boys and come with poseable leggies and are weighted (~0.5kg/1lb).

based on Hydrosaurus pustulatus and H. celebensis

-------

adopt one here -> Barks-Bog.com/shop

[sharkylad]

Thinking about the fact that Mabel and Dipper didn't know they had two great uncles.

Yeah they are 12 and at 12 I had a shotty understanding of my family tree- But really? Nobody brought up their great uncle? Stanley? Especially since they'll be staying with his twin brother, Stanford?

Shermie never went to Stan's fake funeral, which to me means the twos relationship was strained on some level. If Shermie is older that means his view of Stan was poisoned in some way, that even as kids they weren't close. If the Shermie is younger then he never even got to meet Stan and all he knew about him was how he failed his family. Hell, people probably barely mentioned Stanley TO Shermie.

The fact that Stan had become a black stain upon the Pines family name makes me so vividly upset. Stanley faked his death and the family just- seemingly decided to strike him from the record. To pretend he didn't existed to spare themselves the sadness and shame.

Stanford and Shermie Pines. The only children worth mentioning of Filbrick and Caryn Pines.

It was never Stanford that was lost to the world. It was Stanley, ever since he had to leave New Jersy- it was always him that had to be struck from the record. Change his name, change his state, change his affiliations, destroy the remains of ghost that was Stanley Pines. Kill him so the family doesn't bring him up, doesn't ask questions, stops asking "Stanford" about his twin.

I just keep thinking about the fact that since the day he made one single mistake all the way up until Ford walks out of that machine- Stanley Pines was killed and did not exist. And Stan himself had no one to blame, he had to play the part in his own demise- He is the only one who ever knew Stanley was alive and has been for decades.

He lives in the multitudes of every personality he's ever taken, all in the hope that he himself can stop being Stanley Pines.

[satans-knitwear]

Let it be known!!! Having a fabulous evening out with no drama/trauma is possible!!! Thats a fun new fact I just discovered today btw 😎

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[lefthandarm-man]

Steve Rogers & Natasha Romanoff Captain America: The Winter Soldier (2014)

[butchmartyr]

ultimately you have to remember that complaining about "4chan white trans women who are bigoted and so and so" is almost entirely pointless for any purpose aside from raising transmisogynistic sentiments in observers. this specter of an evil tranny is constantly looming despite the individuals being rare and often total shut ins, and people expect transfems to take this shit seriously and be constantly swearing off association with """bad people""". these people, when they do exist, by and large lack the power to actually do anything with their beliefs; obviously if they do it sucks but this idea that there are trans women ~getting away with it~ and that all transfem communities allow and hide this behavior is blatantly transmisogynistic in addition to often being completely imagined! its insane to act like you have to choose between resisting white supremacy and resisting transmisogyny, and yet, people wind up continually portraying it as this

[interstellarlyinlove]

Mutual pining (May 12th)

Word count: 700

@wolfstarmicrofic

Sirius screams into his pillow. James startles, knocking the pot of ink on the desk all over his admittedly horrible essay. 

“Godric! What the hell?” James and Sirius are the only ones in their dorm room and Sirius has apparently gone crazy.

“Why won’t he talk to me?” Sirius asks, throwing the pillow on the floor. “Why won’t he just talk to me?”

“Remus literally talks to you all the time,” James says, and he doesn’t need to ask who Sirius is referring to because who else would it be? “And pick up that pillow. This room barely fits all of us when it is tidy.”

“But no, he doesn’t. James, he doesn’t. Not about the things that matter, anyway.” Sirius doesn’t say anything about the pillow but he does pick it up.

“What are the things that matter, again?” James asks, turning his chair around to look at Sirius. 

Sirius blinks. “I just mean that–”

“What is the last thing you two talked about?”

“How peeling an orange is the epitome of love, apparently,” Sirius says. And he doesn’t even say it to be funny. He’s completely earnest.

James truly cannot believe that Remus and Sirius don’t know that they’re already dating. “You talked about– how did that conversation start?”

“I’m not really sure. But, see? I want to talk to Remus about things that matter. And things that don’t matter, as well, like love oranges. It was a really lovely conversation, James. Easy flowing and funny and–”

“Love oranges are funny?”

“Well, Remus is funny, so yeah.”

James nods. He doesn’t want to point out the obvious and tell Sirius to just ask Remus to marry him already if only to see how long it takes Sirius to figure out that Remus is obsessed with him as well.

“Can you help me make a list?”

“Sure,” James says. He tilts his head. “Of what?”

“Of like, conversation starters.”

“You need conversation prompts to talk with Remus?” James raises an eyebrow. Remus and Sirius literally don’t shut up.

“I need conversation prompts to talk about deep things with Remus.”

James starts laughing, and he can’t stop. “Deep things?”

“Oh, fuck off.”

Remus doesn’t sleep well the week before the full moon. James doesn’t sleep well, ever. They snuck out into the Forbidden Forest after Remus broke more quills than James could justify during their late-night library study session. 

“What do you think my animagus would be?” Remus asks as they are walking. “And don’t say a wolf because I will gouge your eyes out.”

James laughs. “I wasn’t going to. An eagle.”

“That’s cool.”

James shrugs. “You’re cool. It makes sense.”

“Sometimes I feel that it’s unfair to Sirius that I like him,” Remus says, and James knows that is what Remus wanted to say in the first place. “That’s a stupid thing to say. I’m sorry.”

James flicks Remus’ head. “Don’t apologize, you twat.”

Remus smiles. “You’re the twat.”

“And it is a stupid thing to say. How is it unfair?”

“You know what I mean.”

“No, I don’t. At all.” James shakes his head. He hates that Remus thinks that. If only he could put his two friends in a room and force them to say these things to each other. “Sirius is lucky that you like him. I wish you liked me instead. Screw that guy, come make out with me.”

Remus laughs. “I would totally make out with you. But the heart wants what it wants." Remus pauses. "The heart is a bitch.”

“Is it the hair?” James asks. “I can totally grow my hair out if you want. Did you know my dad has this whole hair business empire thing? And if it’s the eyes there are spells for that! It definitely isn't the music talent, right? He’s the worst person in the choir. And I’m better at Quidditch.”

Remus whistles. “You really are the whole package, Jamie.”

“Damn right!”

“It's the Sirius,” Remus says, then he groans. “Wow. That’s humiliating. I can’t believe I actually said that.”

James pats Remus’ back. “It happens in the best of families, I’m afraid.” Remus chuckles and James really hopes Remus and Sirius figure it out soon.

[venice-1987]

As much as I would enjoy a kiss at their reunion, I do think the dragon prince crew would do something softer when (not if <-clown emoji) Sorvus is made canon. I'm picturing Corvus and Ezran and Callum arriving at the castle like in the promo image, them checking up with Opeli and she reveals everything is fine.

But Corvus asks about Soren. "Where is he?" he asks, his mind already wandering to the possibility that Soren...hadn't made it out. He will himself to remain strong for his king, but his body fills with dread. Thankfully, Opeli points him to the river.

There, Soren sits on the banks. Corvus sits beside him, noticing the same pained look in his eyes that he had seen on the ramparts the day Soren asked him to become a crownguard. Now, that same pain encompassed how he sat, how he stared mournfully into the waters.

Corvus asks is he is alright, and Soren can't even answer, holding back what emotion he can to maintain his cheerful attitude. He is failing miserably. Something more terrible than the Storm Spire must have happened. Something worse than Katolis burning down.

Corvus lays his hand over Soren's on the rock. Soren looks from it to Corvus, then shifts so that he can hold Corvus's hand back.

Like Janai and Amaya, its a confirmation.

and, of course, at the end of arc 2 or start of arc 3 (affirm affrim, manifest manifest, like to charge reblog to cast) then we get a kiss, teehee

[labyrinthhofmymind]

just a reminder that comparing horrible, REAL historical (and current) events that caused thousands and millions of REAL HUMAN deaths to FICTIONAL worlds is insane and weird, especially when those fictional worlds are created by transphobic, racist bigots who can’t write a consistent, diverse, and non-stereotypical story to save their life (yes i mean jk rowling)

comparing real life atrocities to one another is bad enough, but suggesting that they somehow connect to fictional work is so messed up and insensitive and is not the intellectual take you think it is

go touch some grass people and stop hating on people who like regulus or ship jegulus or write about any characters that were death eaters

[spookygibberish]

Dogstock are typical of what are often deemed the ‘evil’ races in many other fantasy works. They were created by some higher force to be slaves, they are carnivorous by nature, they resemble animals other than human in dentition and build. They growl and bite and walk behind.

The Uhasr (a dogstock culture) are descendants of such slave-infantry that was abandoned when the empire that used them to capture the steppes decided the land wasn’t so profitable after all, and more pressing matters drew their attention elsewhere. Like tools left spent on the ground, the unneeded, excess dogstock were left to survive on their own in Hochkiskuph. The native peoples, of course, did not welcome them any more, or see them any less as oppressors when the hand released the lead. To the Hochkiskuph peoples, the Uhasr are a predatory ghost, an echo that consumes them even in absentia. To the Uhasr, one human is much like another, differing in number and equipment, but never in essence. Uhasr are a species of wild animal with a human face. Humans are prey on two legs. Humans smoke and poison uncovered dens on principle, Uhasr abduct and consume men and women and children all the same.

A common trend I have noticed in media which aims to humanize monsters, is that it often relies on passivity. Humanity is contingent upon kindness. The monster that is A Person only so long as they are a harmless thing at heart, something which can be understood and befriended. Their violence is reluctant, their hearts noble. Grace is a concession to the dominated. Only the toothless beast, declawed and pinioned and caged, is one which has earned its personhood. The ontological enemy supersedes the ontological man.

[redbean-nom]

fascinated by the implied fennec-ventress-phee friend group in tbb. even more interesting (funny) when you add boba in there during the tbobf era.

[enbysiriusblack]

Sirius was in the middle of taping a dung bomb underneath a desk in Flitwick's empty classroom when Peter spoke.

"You going home for the holidays?"

Sirius easily slid out from under the desk, folding his arms on the top as he glanced over to Peter, "Nah. I'll probably go to James' instead. See how long it takes them to come drag me back themselves instead of sending that wretched Kreature."

Peter nodded, "I might come join you, Mum's place is always packed during winter."

Sirius grinned, "Brilliant", he climbed over the table and jumped off it, "We can spend Yule together."

Peter smiled back, "Yeah. The Potter's made you your own guest room right?"

"Oh, I forgot you haven't seen it! It's much cooler than my room at Grimmauld Place."

"Oh, no naked women?"

Sirius laughed, "Absolutely not. Maybe I want my mother to have a fit, but definitely not Mia. But Monty got me these proper band posters and there's this huge Queen one over my bed, and last summer when I flooed to the Potter's, me and James stole this traffic cone so that's in there. Oh, and Mia met me in Camden as well and she got me all these muggle clothes and Marlene built me a cupboard to put it all in."

"It sounds nice, can't wait to see it."

Sirius grabbed Peter's hand to drag him to the next classroom, "Merlin, neither can I. And you can borrow any of it, of course. I actually got a guitar for when you come over."

"You got a guitar? What kind?"

Sirius shrugged, "Fender Strat, I think. You'll play it right? I love hearing you play."

Peter beamed, "Course, I will."

Sirius tousled Peter's hair before glancing at his bag of dung bombs, "Only got a few left", he sighed.

Peter held his hand out, "Pass them here, I was thinking if we put them on the doors instead and leave them open then the smell would reach to a further distance."

Sirius instantly perked up, grabbing Peter's face and quickly giving him a kiss before turning to the windows, "Make sure all the windows are shut as well!"

Peter, cheeks still bright red, walked over to shut the remaining open windows.

[wenellyb]

Excuse me but how is Namor a villain? Someone explain it to me like I'm stupid because I don't get how he's a villain.

An opponent maybe but certainly not a villain. He didn't do anything Wakandans wouldn't have done when they were still in hiding.

Not saying him or the people of Talocan are perfect, but saying he's a villain is a little too much imo. He's just a ruler protecting his people. Just like the Wakandans.

[seagreenstardust]

Anyone still calling late game Katsuki an abuser in 2024 is just not paying attention. Full stop.

[becca-e-barnes]

Ok but what about submissive!dbf!bucky with a praise kink? Maybe one found accidentally? In the drabble where the reader wanted to say he was beautiful, what if she does and he just moans?? What if the word the reader is looking for is pretty? Imagine calling an older man pretty and he nearly finishes just from that?

Back to my current favourite, submissive!dbf!bucky bc I can't get enough of him rn, I have so much I want to talk about

Because ohhhh, I love the thought of him being so totally obsessed with going down on you, to the point that he'd almost do anything just for a taste of you.

And maybe he'd seen you in a pretty little dress at a get-together at your house. Maybe a birthday party or something. You had both been keeping up appearances, pretending nothing is going on between you because he's your father's best friend but he'd taken the risk and approached you, leaning over and whispering in your ear. "Next time I get you alone, I'm going to lick from your ankle to your cunt." That's all he says, his hand rests on your lower back and you barely feel the heat of it through your dress before it's gone again. God, you hope that's a promise.

Of course it is. As soon as he gets a chance to sneak away from everyone else the two of you are tiptoeing up the stairs to your bedroom. After a fierce few minutes of intensely making out, he's laid you gently onto the bed, pushing the skirt of your dress out of the way. He doesn't waste a second, his lips on the inside of your ankle, humming contently as he kisses his way up the expanse of bare skin.

For a man who's kissed every inch of your body, he never seems to get tired of it. His slight scruff scratches your skin and it's lovely to be reminded of how intensely he's worshipping your body.

"You look. So. Fucking. Breathtaking." The words are muffled against your skin, his lips trailing hungry kisses up to your knee. One of his hands holds your leg, keeping you still while the other slips higher under your skirt.

You brace yourself for the groan you know he's going to grace you with and when it comes, it doesn't disappoint. The fingertips of his index and pointer finger trail lazily across your bare sex, gliding easily thanks to the evidence of your arousal.

"No panties?" His fingers keep teasing you, trailing from your fluttering entrance to your clit and back again, giving himself time to decide where he wants to start.

"I took them off after you told me your plan and so far you've let me down." If this were any other night, he'd probably tell you to watch your mouth before he fills it but tonight is not that night. Tonight he's desperate to taste you; to walk back down those stairs, look you in the eyes for the rest of the evening, knowing he made you cum against his mouth and no one else in the room can tell. Then jerk off to the memory tonight when he's back in his own bed.

He wastes no more time after that, flattening his tongue against your ankle and purposefully trailing it up your leg to your knee, then on up your thigh. At the same time, he eases his two fingers inside you, curling them against the soft, velvety wall of your cunt.

You hold the skirt of your dress out of the way so you can see him latch his mouth onto your clit, sucking gently and flicking his tongue while he curls his fingers inside you.

This is fucking magical. You know his mouth is flooded with the taste of you, your fingers tangled in his hair to keep his mouth pressed against you. "Fuck, that's perfect." It's the only way to describe the sensation of his mouth and fingers working you in tandem.

He's lost in it. His eyes are closed in concentration, determined to give you what you need. He needs to please you and it's not a need you've instilled in him. It's one he's always had.

"You're so pretty, do you know that?" It's bouncing around in your head and you feel like you need to say it.

He groans against your sex and you don't think anything of it until he mumbles "Please don't call me that. Not right now." His fingers work you faster but your hazy, pleasure addled brain still manages to ask him why.

" 'Cause sweetheart, I don't want to cum in these trousers. I don't have a change of clothes. Didn't even know I was into that." He sounds smaller, almost pleading with you, palming his cock through his dark jeans.

"But you're gorgeous, Buck. You have no idea how pretty you are with your head between my legs." The moan he emits is so rewarding you swear you could get off on that alone, never mind his renewed need to make you finish quickly before you get him to a point of desperation.

[todayisafridaynight]

[og]