#anyways here you go

[lunar-jewels]

uh guys i think they might be gay

full illustration below the cut

[creepycrawliesanonymous]

He never approached you for a reason. Reasons he conveniently forgot the moment he saw you.

There was this thing that you did when you had a moment to yourself, when you didn’t have to answer to roommates or managers or pushy customers, where you would take your book and sit at one of the outdoor tables near the fountain at Bryant Park. When Miguel was feeling particularly weak he would travel to one of these moments, and watch from a safe distance as you sipped your drink and flipped the pages of your latest read. If he didn’t know you so well, so dearly, he might have wondered how it would feel to sit across from you, to ask you about your book, maybe even to reach across the table and take your hand in his, to feel the warmth in his fingers and his chest that he hadn’t felt in so long. There was no greater tragedy in his life that he did know how it felt, he knew it so well that all he had to do in his loneliest moments was to close his eyes and there you would be.

Of course, you didn’t know. No matter his yearning, the truth was it was best if you never knew. How in more universes than one (he was ashamed of the true number), he sought you out, courted you in all the ways you deserved, fell so deeply in love in ways that were so different each time yet so painfully the same. How he would lose you each time; to villains, to random criminals, illness, freak accidents. And how each time he would lose it a little more, become more and more desperate to save you, to keep you protected, until he resigned himself to this. Watching. He had been told more times than he could count that he had no sense of humor, which why it was so ironic that his life felt like such a joke.

The universe you lived in seemed cruel to him, he remarked to himself as he watched as you took another sip of your beverage. He saw how overworked and unappreciated you were despite being so hardworking, or how you would desperately try to avoid drama with your roommates and would mediate whenever she would have another falling out with her boyfriend. He knew if only he could be with you, you would never have to deal with the sludge of life, he would make sure you were showered with love and appreciation, that you would never have to lift a finger as long as you allowed him to bask in the warmth that was you (although he would continue to do so even if you sent him away).

You flipped to the next page.

Soon he would go home, and busy himself with other things to keep him from thinking about this, about you, but for now he would allow himself to sit here, a safe distance from you, but a painful distance nonetheless.

[manchesterau]

one direction in st. louis (2/2)

[jalapenobee]

ok i thought i posted this and i didn't

[pharaoh-ferrous]

I just think she’s pretty

[tmnt-obsessed-ace]

Mighty Morphin Power Rangers/ Teenage Mutant Ninja Turtles comic master post

Issue 1 parts 1-3

Issue 2 parts 1-2

Issue 3 parts 1-2

Issue 4 parts 1-2

Issue 5 parts 1-2

And finally credit to both BOOM! Studios and IDW for publishing this comic

[kreidemaru]

@tazmiilly

[krash-and-co]

@rainysaturdayafternoon here you go

morning everybody, have an autismwood

[iamheretemporarly]

Thinking about how the 2000s generation is the only generation in Algeria that’s actually living a life where they can breath and have normal life problems, because Algeria literally did not experience peace for decades pre and post independence only after the 2000s

We had 132 years of colonisation that left the country in shambles

And a year after the independence Morocco attempted to invade us, ONE YEAR after the independence

Then there was the October wars 11 years after the independence

Then The Western Sahara war

Then the black decade or the Algerian civil war that started in 1991 and ended in 2002, one of the worst years of Algerian history where terrorism was everywhere

Algeria legit is a country that’s still recovering to this day, and they wonder why we are so hot headed and sentimental about this country

[apoptoses]

Thoughtful ask incoming!!! It's me DA, shaking and crying and throwing up in anticipation for your big WIP. I don't think my brain can even fully grasp the 40k words thing, it's like trying to measure the universe yk. But I *am* ready to embark in what is probably bound to be one of the all time great VC fanfiction expeditions (and when I say fanfiction I mean, I'll immediately process every word as canon, such is your understanding and dissection of the characters). And YES please drop the excerpts, we're so hungry 🥺

Dungeon anon! I love that I sent up the bat signal in my tags and here you are ♥

Oh man, it was hard to pick what to share because this thing is 40% angst, 40% smut, and 20% loving moments to rot your teeth out with. We're taking that reunion in Prince Lestat and expanding it out so that Armand and Daniel can finally put all of their cards on the table and figure out how they work together in the modern day. And it all happens in the form of a road trip of all things.

But lately my favorite topic is Armand's past as Amadeo and what experiences he had that were left out of TVA (for being too racy or too dear to his heart? who can say! I think about both a lot).

(also this is the biggest section I can give you without giving anything away about what is going on between the two of them, so)

Here is a secret little story he tells Daniel:

Armand glanced at himself in the rearview mirror. A blank shell of a thing stared back, waiting to be cracked open to see what new image of himself would come through.

He drifted through his past. Inside he was like a book that had survived the flood, the ink of his memories blurred and runny with time but still legible if he squinted hard enough. Back and back and back Armand went, to old Venice with its sun warmed plaster and the tang of the sea in the air. That very first chapter in the memories of his life.

“Daniel. Would you like to hear a story?” Armand asked.

Daniel’s phone let out a click as he pressed the button on its side. The screen went black. “Sure.”

Armand took a deep breath. Set the cruise control so he would no longer have to think about the gas pedal and let himself become once more a young and mortal boy.

Amadeo and Riccardo, awash in the carnation pink blaze of the late afternoon sun. The rough hewn edge of the dock dug into the back of Amadeo’s thigh through his thin woolen hose. From his fingers a half drunk bottle of wine dangled, heavy and precarious above the lapping waters of the canal. At home they’d been reading the Romance of the Rose. An old French poem of courtly love. Lips buzzing with wine and boyish melancholy, Amadeo confessed he’d never experienced such a thing himself. Probably he never would.

What sort of thing, Riccardo asked him.

The pleasures of a first kiss. He’d been kissed before, of course. Rough and unwanted things stolen from his lips. And Master kissed him, yes. But that was a rich and heedy experience, charged with all the fear and arousal that came with doing such a thing with someone much older and more experienced than him. Amadeo had never known the innocence of a kiss with one his own age, one he’d chosen all by himself. He had no such sweet and romantic memories to carry through his life.

The tide was coming in as the sun set. The water rose toward their feet. If Riccardo stretched out his toes he could have dipped his expensive leather slippers straight into the sea.

You could kiss me if you like, Riccardo said. I’m not so much older than you. A year, perhaps. 

Amadeo looked at him. At his dark hair curling around his ears, his cheeks flushed ruddy and red from the wine and the heat of the day. Sometimes when Master painted the god Mars he came out looking rather like Riccardo, with his proud nose and shell pink lips.

Are you certain you’d want to kiss a boy like me, Amadeo asked and brought the bottle of wine to his mouth. Cheap stuff, the kind that burned the throat as it went down and left his chest on fire. Are you really sure, Riccardo?

Riccardo laughed. Of course. Amadeo was the handsomest boy in all of Venice, everyone knew that. Anyone would be lucky to kiss him.

Alright then.

Amadeo screwed up his courage. Never before had he been nervous to kiss anyone but there he was, heart fluttering in his chest. He licked his lips. Angled his head carefully and leaned in, waiting for Riccardo to meet him halfway.

Their mouths met. The bottle of wine slipped from his fingers and sank to the bottom of the sea.

The feeling of it was so sweet Amadeo forgot to breathe. It was a perfectly chaste thing. Riccardo didn’t even part his lips. Didn’t demand anything more than what Amadeo had to give and that was perhaps the most thrilling thing about it. That the warm press of someone’s mouth against his could be enough to steal his breath away and set his heart beating as rapid and desperate as the hummingbird’s wings. 

The water lapped at the pillars supporting the docks. Somewhere a gondolier called out for passengers. Amadeo broke away and then, changing his mind, darted back in for another quick taste of the wine on his best friend’s lips.

Riccardo laughed and stood. Sucked his lower lip in between his teeth, as if to savor the taste of Amadeo on his skin, and held out a hand. Come. Master will be home soon and we should not be late.

The road before Armand was black and slick as the Venetian canals at night. Daniel was silent at his side.

[whipped-bean]

Heres the second one cause I'm tired of drawing his stupid legs

[die-ringeltaube]

hier noch die restlichen bilder von tanja liebermann's website

[mythicalmagical-monkeyman]

@hyperfixation-tangentopia (i need smth to do, and I gave u a lot of asks soooo)

Who swears more?

What types of sodas are Chikao and Tongbi??

if Chikao got her hands on video games what would she be obsessed with?

If tealstars had pets

Tealstars in the dragon prince universe

If Tongbi could shapeshift

Tongbi plus ocean

other than rain/thunder storms what other types of weather does Chikao like?

Chikao and tongbi's favorite types of junk food?

where would be tongbi's go to place for vacation?

Chikao vs bees?

Tongbi's favorite fruit?

would Chikao and Tongbi ever get matching items like mugs or sweaters, etc?

if Tongbi ever went viral on the internet for some reason what would he think?

do Chikao or Tongbi create things?

tealstars vs baby?

[whatjanesays]

I’ve seen no less than a dozen folks in my various social medias asking about the song from the Vox Machina trailer.

[cloudgremlin]

How to Eat Every Type of Painting

Oil: cut into strips and deep fry. Do Not Eat Raw! Oil paintings are poisonous in their raw form and must be cooked to neutralize the harmful toxins.

Watercolours: eat raw, it’s crisp flavour pairs well with salted meats or fried breads.

Tempera/Gouache: slice thinly and use as a bulk for salads or fermented dishes.

Acrylic: boil or pan fry. Acrylic paintings are mucilaginous, so their texture may not be for everyone.

Mixed Media: cut freeze to add to smoothies, or pulp to make juice.

Chalk/Pastels: many different cooking methods can be used to produce a good tasting dish out of chalk/pastels. The most popular is to make a pâté to spread on crackers or breads.

Charcoal: what are you doing eating charcoal? It’s literally not palatable. Stop. What, do you eat grass too?

Ink, India: roast or steam, and pair with sweet dried fruits.

Ink, alcohol: sun dry. Eat by itself, add to drinks, or infuse in alcohol for a special treat!

Pencils (coloured and graphite): boil and mash, season generously to mask the strange aftertaste that many people find unpleasant.

[cassiomaximo]