#bitch plz

[sidsinning]

Unwarranted art criticism online is a joke bros like why should I trust the eyes of voremonster69 all of sudden just bc he comments smtg negative he wants me to change on my art

(Applies only to art posted for free, plz voice issues you have if it's a commission you're paying for)

[xfohvconfessions]

I WARN YOU DON'T GO TO #XFOHV NINE ON TUMBLR PLZ I BEGGED YOU

To the person who made this why

[fastfists]

"You know, might seem counterproductive but I do 'ave ah couple o' m'tribes dishes t'at 'r cold but also spicy. T'ose would be good right now too."

[moviebunny]

[percexe]

ok this is old (by like a month or two) so excuse the slightly outdated stylings. but i forgot to post this here so ENJOY!

it’s a shame a design element as fun as the grey streaks are just put in the same spot all the time. so have my placements and the reasoning behind them (because it wouldn’t be a percexe design without cramming character significance into every little detial)

[lizleeships]

A happy and safe holiday to you all, and big thanks for your support this year. 

...And no, I have no idea why the sunglasses were necessary, but they just...were. 

(Don’t repost) 

(My Ko-Fi | My Patreon) 

[raepliica]

tristamp post-timeskip woowoo!! injecting him with cowboy swag baybiee

also, a little bit of a redraw

[sojutrait]

this is why anadius talks to yall the way he does

[acabspocky]

PSA from the Ghost with the Most

[bougiebutchbitch]

bouncing on it in an 'I killed your girlfriend but I'm weally sowwy pwease forgiwe me' kinda way

or

bouncing on it in an 'I raped your wife and now I need you to hold me down and be my daddy and breed me about it' kinda way

[idontevenremember5minutesago]

Me navigating the Hazbin Hotel tag:

[b4gu3tt3m4n]

Voltron fanart in the year of 2024 is crazy??!?!?!?

[raineandsky]

#106

“[Villain].”

The villain lets out an audible groan that inevitably raises their manager’s eyebrow. A short ball of fury, basically straight out of college. Not too unlike the villain. “Is it in my contract that I’m allowed to ignore you?”

“It’s not.” He gives them a moment where he clearly expects them to turn around. They don’t. “I need you to train up the new guy.”

“Do I have to?”

Their manager nudges someone forward as they turn. “‘Fraid so. You’ve been here the longest.”

No, that’s you, the villain’s about to say. But then their eyes fall on the new hire, who looks like she’s already regretting every life decision she’s ever made. What the hell is a hero doing in a burger joint?

“Okay,” the manager adds after a long moment, “staring is rude, [Villain]. Let’s dial it back.”

Their name jolts them out of their stupor. “I– yeah, sorry. I just, uh, recognise her from, uh…” The hero waits expectantly. Their manager tips his head curiously. “… high school.”

“Oh! Old acquaintances.” The manager claps his hands like this solves everything. “Lots of catching up to do, huh? I’ll leave you guys here then—and [Villain], please, for the love of god, train her up at least a bit amidst the chatting.”

The manager gives the hero a friendly pat on the back before throwing the villain a quick smile and disappearing around the door again.

The hero stares blankly at the villain. The villain stares equally blankly straight back. “Do you work here?” the hero asks eventually.

The villain doesn’t feel too inclined to answer that. “Do you?” they shoot back.

The hero clicks her tongue, shuffling on her feet. “Why don’t you show me how the fryers work before I have to kill you for getting too personal?”

“Ah, yes, the fryers.” The villain turns to the bubbling pot of oil next to them. “Hot enough to cook chips and to dissolve a body in.”

The hero’s face scrunches up seemingly on instinct, and the villain can’t help but laugh. “Don’t worry,” they say with forced friendliness, “I change the oil before I cook food in it.”

“Okay,” the hero says like she’s three seconds from throwing up. “Is there someone else here who can show me stuff?”

“You wish,” the villain jeers. “Manager’s busy, you saw him. Only other guy here only works on Thursdays and Sundays.”

“It’s Thursday today.”

“Exactly. Not what I’d call reliable. I, however” — the villain does a twirl for dramatic effect — “am here… more often than I am willing to tell you.”

“Well.” The hero smirks, the kind of expression no one wants to see on a hero’s face. “I’m sure I’ll figure out when you’re here if I stop by enough. What, is it full time? Does villainy pay peanuts?”

The villain refrains from the urge to punch her. “Does the agency?”

The hero’s mocking expression turns flat. “I’m here undercover,” she says plainly.

“I recognised you immediately.”

“Well, I’m not here for you.” The hero pushes past them to figure out the fryer on her own. “I’m not telling you any more than that.”

“I better warn my friends you’re here, then.” The villain snorts as the hero fiddles with the knob. “Are you here to give whoever you’re looking for food poisoning?”

“I know how to cook, [Villain].”

“You’re turning the heat too low.”

The hero pointedly pulls the knob back up. “Just show me how the kitchen works, please, and I’ll consider not telling your manager who he’s working with.”

The villain fixes her with a long stare. “I could blow your cover too.” But they roll their eyes and beckon her over to the griddle anyway. “Okay, so, wrong me and I’ll shove your entire face on this.”

The villain shows the hero around the kitchen, each bit of apparatus accompanied with a lovingly detailed description of how the villain intends to use each one against the hero if she pushes her luck. The hero listens with distaste mashed into her expression the whole time.

“Let’s try and keep things civil, okay?” the hero says when she’s clearly had enough of all the different ways the villain has on hand to murder her. “I don’t fancy fighting in a kitchen, and I’m sure you don’t either.”

Oh, god, how wrong the hero is. They’re itching to grab one of those knives off the hook and just—

No. They have to play it safe to begin with, keep it lowkey, make her feel a little too safe. So they just roll their eyes and, with all the authenticity they can muster, simply say “agreed.”

[girlonedge]

I’m so exhausted from school and work. I can’t wait for the summer semester to be over so I can relax for a month before the fall semester starts.

I had to do a presentation today on a well-known literary author and I chose, the one and only, Sylvia Plath. I learned a lot about her that I didn’t know before. Now her writing has a whole new meaning for me and I love that.

[ratskinsuit]

That little bitch Alastor and his fucking cane.

He definitely has it held up whenever he’s walking by people and “accidentally” hits them in the head walking past >:(

If he thinks your doing something stupid? SMACK

He doesn’t agree with your ideas? SMACK

He is bored? SMACK

I feel like some people are washing down the absolute GREMLIN that Alastor is. This petty ass fucking man.

He polishes that cane Every. Single. Day. Treats that thing like his child. (Not an actual child otherwise he would throw it out the window)

Believes canes make someone more important then they are without them. (Not Lucifer)

(no hate to anyone who writes him a specific way I’m on like a bottle of melatonin and a high fever. This is just my opinion.)

[scribe-of-hael]

"Choke me like you hate me, but you love me"