#I like the reference

[tenderwatches]

sometimes you need dialogue tags and don't want to use the same four

[inkskinned]

i love you vaccines i love you research i love you reading the book instead of having chatgpt summarize it i love you critically thinking rather than reacting to a headline i love you investigating the source material i love you science i love you math even though you are personally my enemy (math/yn slowburn) i love you writing even though you try to stab me a lot i love you Experts in Your Field i love you Using The Brain

[butchfalin]

the funniest meltdown ive ever had was in college when i got so overstimulated that i could Not speak, including over text. one of my friends was trying to talk me through it but i was solely using emojis because they were easier than trying to come up with words so he started using primarily emojis as well just to make things feel balanced. this was not the Most effective strategy... until. he tried to ask me "you okay?" but the way he chose to do that was by sending "👉🏼👌🏼❓" and i was so shocked by suddenly being asked if i was dtf that i was like WHAT???? WHAT DID YOU JUST SAY TO ME?????????? and thus was verbal again

[bethfuller]

limited perception.

find me on instagram!

[hinamie]

newest issue of first years fashion just dropped

[alissicall]

Locked in because it reminded me of that one scene

happy late valentines 💜

[halebop-s-art]

The diagram for the classic Origami Goat, with a twist to make its horns curve ! It's from this video by by Origami Word, but it seems to be a pretty old/intemporal design that a lot of people have made. I could not find a diagram online so I made one.

(If you make her in yellow/orangy-yellow, then decorate her with red ribbons, you can make your own origami gävlebocken ! )

[izloveshorses]

what's meant to be is meant to be. if you even care.

(pls click for higher res i worked really hard on this)

[isagaiia]

jayce is so greedy smh

[starbuck]

i say i like tragedies and everyone’s all like ‘why do you like sad stories? are you depressed?’ and never ‘how was the catharsis? was the catharsis fun?’

[canisalbus]

✦ Fashionably late ✦

[cracklewink]

My Mane 6 Redesigns all together! I was going to post them separately but ended up finishing them all before I got around to it lol

[cuntphoric]

you’ve been skipping class, flunking labs, and now you’re in his office with a bad throbbing ache between your legs and an even badder grade

you don’t even bother knocking when you walk into his office, because he’s the one who told you to “come in after hours if you want to fix this."

he’s lounging behind his desk like he always is, legs spread wide, shirt unbuttoned just enough to show a sliver of his chest. those ridiculous black sunglasses are perched low on his nose, and when he sees you he smiles.

“look who finally showed up,” he sighed, gesturing lazily to the stack of unfinished lab reports on his desk. “thought you’d given up.”

you shift awkwardly, heart pounding that you swore that felt like . “i just.. didn’t know what to say.”

“good thing you’re not here to talk, then,” he murmurs, pushing his glasses back up. “you’ve been slacking all semester. skipping lectures, half assing labs.. think i wouldn’t notice?”

you try to look apologetic, but it’s hard to think when he stands up and walks toward you, all tall, slow, and hot as hell. he stops when he’s just behind you, so close you can feel the heat of him against your back.

he stops just behind you. doesn’t touch. doesn’t even breathe too loud. but he’s there. close enough to set your skin on fire.

“so,” he says, voice lower now, almost lazy. “what are you gonna do to make up for it?”

you swallow hard. it’s too quiet in the room, and his words feel like a trap you’re already tangled in. “i don’t know,” you mumble, not trusting yourself to meet his eyes. “whatever you think is fair..”

he lets that hang for a second. then laughs softly. “you’re asking me to decide what’s fair?” his breath brushes your neck now, and you feel it—finally, his fingers ghosting over your hip like he’s testing how far you’ll let him go. “baby, that’s dangerous.”

you say nothing. can’t. your pulse is screaming under your skin.

he leans closer, like he’s about to bite out something cruel, but he doesn’t. just murmurs, “you walk in here after weeks of disappearing and tell me whatever i think is fair? you sure you wanna give me that kind of control?”

“i’m here, aren’t i?” you whisper.

his hand finally settles on your waist, grounding, a little too firm. “yeah,” he says. “you are.”

but he doesn’t move. doesn’t do anything, not yet. just lets the tension stretch and snap in the silence, dragging it out because he wants you to squirm.

“bend over the desk,” he says quieter now, “just so we can talk.”

you hesitate this time. you know what he’s capable of when you’re like this - open, stupid with need, desperate for something rough to erase the guilt of failing repeatedly pooling in your chest. but still, you lean forward, hands braced, chest against the desk’s cold edge.

he stands behind you but doesn’t touch. just talks.

“do you even know what you want?” he asks, tone unreadable. “or are you just hoping i’ll figure it out for you?”

your mouth is dry. “i want to fix it.”

he hums. “no, you want to get fucked and pretend that fixes it.”

your breath catches.

“you think showing up wet and pathetic is the same as putting in work?” he presses a hand between your shoulder blades, not to hold you down, but just feel you. “you think that’s gonna cut it?” he sighs.

can this man just do something—

oh. and then—then—you hear the belt.

you don’t hesitate. your hands brace against the cool wood as you feel him behind you, tugging at your waistband, baring you like you’re some toy he gets to play with when the lab’s closed.

and then you hear it. the soft click of his belt.

“count for me,” he says.

the first strike is loud and hot and sharp, making your hips jerk forward and your breath catch in your throat.

“one,” you gasp.

“you can take more than that, right?” he murmurs, and god, he sounds pleased.

he spanks you again, then again, harsh and slow, pausing just enough to let the sting settle before the next. by the seventh you’re trembling, thighs pressed tight, skin burning.

by the twelfth you’re dripping, trying not to grind against the desk to get some- any kind of friction. he leans forward, pressing a kiss just under your ear, voice thick.

“look at you,” he breathes. “all shaky already. i haven’t even fucked you yet.”

when he finally pulls his cock out, he drags the tip along your slit just to pull a reaction out of you and then he pushes in, all at once, no warning, making your body jolt forward as he buries himself deep.

he fucks you like he’s trying to drill the periodic table into your spine—slow at first, grinding deep, then picking up pace until the desk creaks under you. one hand tangled in your hair, the other gripping your hip, dragging you back onto him like he owns you.

“gonna fix that grade right here,” he pants. “maybe if i fuck you dumb enough, you’ll stop skipping class.”

you’re crying out now, clenching around him, brain static.

“f-fuck—professor—”

he groans, hips stuttering as he slams into you harder, until your legs give and your moans turn into needy whines. and when he comes, it’s with a low growl and a handful of your hair in his fist, cock buried so deep it feels like he’s made a mark inside.

you stay there, folded over the desk, skin warm and used, every nerve fried and twitching. the world’s gone fuzzy around the edges, and your thighs are trembling, stuck between the aftershock and the hot cum inside.

he slides out antagonizingly slow. his hands stay on your hips a second longer than they need to, thumbs brushing over the marks he left. then he leans in, and you feel the scratch of his stubble as he kisses the base of your spine—soft and mocking.

his voice is a low purr when he speaks.

“look at you,” he murmurs. “can’t even stand up straight.”

you groan, forehead still pressed to the desk, too gone to argue.

he pulls your panties back up with a tenderness that doesn’t match anything that just happened, then palms your ass one last time that felt too smug.

“extra credit approved,” he says, and when you glance back, he’s buttoning his shirt as if he didn’t just rearrange your guts.

the belt’s still hanging loose around his hips. his smile’s a little crooked. and he’s already reaching for a red pen.

[ukiyoebirds]

When you're an undiagnosed neurodivergent and ask your neurodivergent friend if it's normal to think this way.

Art by me (Ukiyoebirds). Script by @krazycat6167. Who is just so good at writing soft poignant moments that stab me in the heart.

May need to click on the image for better resolution.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Leaked scene from the FNAF 2 movie…

[sparrowlucero]

The greatest injustice ever faced is that I almost certainly started the still thriving "clown husbandry" tag on here, but any discussion about it (from a know your meme page to a youtube video with 500k views) says it's a joke of "unknown origin" or credited to this post, likely bouncing off of mine (which was actively circulating at the time with like 30k notes):

This is a tragedy for many reasons, most of all because it wasn't just an offhand joke but actually a direct response to some of the funniest online hate I ever got:

They're erasing the truest history of tumblr: its desperate need to seethe and argue over every obvious joke with more than 10 notes.

anyways here is the canonical pet clown. according to me