unadulteratedfirecolorpsychic

[sennamaticart]

Dress Code

[randomprose]

the "tumblr community invents a whole mafia movie apparently directed by martin scorsese with an official soundtrack, movie posters, screen caps, and all enough to make one question if that movie really did exist at all like a mandela effect" was not part of my 2022 bingo card

[rendevok]

Act I ~ The Prince

A tapestry for Let No One Sleep by @azalawa-scroggs on ao3

[clouvu]

Cooking up an older Clervie outfit design so I don't have to keep drawing her looking like her child self but Long

[commsroom]

the u.s.s. horrible unending nightmare 💥 (once again from the incredible @hehearse)

[velvet-ii]

some arcane portrait studies :3 this show is ruining my life

[harrywavycurly]

Summary: Harry is given the wrong number when he goes out to a bar but oddly enough he’s not that upset about it because the number he’s given belongs to you. He quickly learns you’re southern and from then on he finds himself coming up with excuses to talk to you because you not only have no clue he’s Harry Styles you also just bring him a sense of comfort that he can’t seem to find with anyone else. Will you ever learn who he really is? And if you do will it change anything? Let’s find out shall we?✨

Pairing: Harry Styles x southern!reader

CW: Language

Tag List: Open

A/N: this series started off from a request I got for Harry to text someone southern and the idea just took off in my brain from there so I hope y’all enjoy💖

Conversations: here

Extras: here

*this is a texting story but you’ll find everything in the correct order down below*

Part 1: Happens All The Time

Part 2: Wonky

Part 3: Smooth as Sandpaper

Part 4: Fiddlesticks

Part 5: Church it Up

Part 6: After A While

Part 7: King George

Part 8: How in Tarnation

Part 9: Don’t be Ugly

Part 10: As All Get Out bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 11: Odd Little Duck

Part 12: Beat it With a Stick bookstore with Harry here

Part 13: Till the Cows Come Home bonus convo between Harry and Niall here

Part 14: Oh My Days

Part 15: Full As a Tick Harry picking you up here

Part 16: Like A Fiddle

Part 17: Tall Order To Fill

Part 18: Borrowing Trouble how your date ended with Harry here

Part 19: A Little About A Lot you meet Jeff here

Part 20.1: You Thought

Part 20.2: Saddle Up

Part 21: Rub Some Dirt On It Harry’s convo with Jeff here

Part 22: So I Can Kiss You Anytime I Want

Part 23: You Better Not

Part 24: A Sack of Potatoes convo with Kathy here

Part 25: Mouse in Your Pocket

Part 26: Mind Your Manners convo with Jeff here

Part 27: Fired Up

Part 28: Some Kinda Alright

Part 29: Honky Tonk you picking Harry up here

Part 30: Feelin Sassy

[galactaknightyaoi]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY, GALACTA KNIGHT!!!! And congratulations to Meta Knight for experiencing the Cain Instinct for the first time.

Galacta Knight, as you might've been able to tell already, is one of my favorite characters, and KSSU is one of my favorite games (the original SS was my introduction to Kirby!) so I wanted to go all out. Happy day, old man. I pray for at least 20 more years.

Oh, and don't worry! He's not upset about the cake smash, he thinks it's funny. And he got back at him.

As for the in-universe explanation for there being 16 candles in his cake?

... 500+ didn't fit in safely.

The birthday boy and his family were just a bit too flammable.

[caluette]

kainess x rope (1948)

[mrghostrat]

my flawless bind is done!!! 🥹

this is my second ever hardcover, first ever faux leather, first ever metal corners, and first bind of my own fic!

featuring art by myself and @chernozemm , and a hand painted cover because i couldn’t figure out any other way to decorate it lmaoooo. now i just gotta do this three more times for mine, meg, and zemm’s copies 🤞

[alltheselights]

i still think about this blog post all the time

We don’t really know anything about One Direction. You can look at a hundred thousand pictures of someone and still not understand what it is like to be in the same room as them. You can be in the same room with them, watch them cavort onstage or even interact with them personally, and still know nothing about who they are. You can research meticulously, write a hundred thousand words about the heat rising off their skin and the quickenings of their heart, and still never touch the truth of what they are feeling, what they have felt. We cannot reach their truths if they choose not to tell them to us.

They’ve learned to be guarded, and thank goodness for that, since this world is so hungry for access to them. The demands of celebrity, the difficulty of navigating a public life as well as a private one — it’s enough to warrant another essay altogether. Suffice it to say that when myths are at play, insisting upon truth is dangerous. Believe in them, if you want; believe they’re yours, but don’t believe they’re yours alone, and don’t believe you hold their secrets.

See, at this point, the truth — the capital-T Truth of One Direction — is mostly meaningless. We actually do know One Direction — it’s just that we know them as characters, as archetypes, as the stuff of stories. Lazy journalists like to talk about how rock stars are worshipped like gods but it is true that One Direction form a kind of five-point pantheon, a collection of figures with their own known attributes and traits that come together to be all-powerful. We’d recognize their symbols anywhere, well enough to ace a pop quiz: To whom is the banana sacred? Who is known alternately as the possum and the lion? Which member would you call upon for the lifting of a heavy object? We know that Zayn is as both as beautiful as Aphrodite and as merry as Pan; we understand that Niall is the heart of the band the same way we know Yggdrasil lives at the center of the world. They become stories so easily, cast and recast again into new shapes, fitted against existing stories to gain new perspectives. Their smallest moves become metaphors. Their grandest gestures can be enough to anchor us to a new day.

We’ve already heard this week about how One Direction has a unique capacity to awaken anew a sense of wonder and joy in the universe, to ease pain and to diminish wrongs. When I say One Direction is a myth, what I mean is: One Direction, like any good myth, help us tell stories about ourselves to ourselves. One Direction help us unravel the great mystery and terror of being alive in the universe. One Direction help us make sense of the shapes of things, help us see what a person can be or could be or could embody: luck, strength, charm, joy, grace. We adorn our bodies in honor of them, we paste icons of them on our walls. We whisper and shout and sing their words, in the good times and in the bad ones. They are for us, and we can always rely on their magic. They’ll be gone someday, of course, but that doesn’t mean they will be really gone; Troy fell thousands of years ago and my high school mascot was still the Trojans. One Direction will part ways and pass from this earth, as everything eventually must, but who knows the last time a mother will turn to her daughter and whisper once more the ancient proverb: “They were just normal guys, but terrible, terrible dancers.”

[malinaa]

i found one direction and the fandom the same age the boys were when the band formed. and, like, when you’re a kid, you think, i want to be grown up. i want to do all the things i’ve never been able to do. and you say it over and over and over again until you’re sixteen, seventeen, eighteen and you’re staring down the barrel of leaving everything behind and suddenly everything’s just scary, and you’re a kid trapped in the dark, and there’s that peter pan syndrome knocking at the front door of your underdeveloped brain, screaming, i don’t wanna grow up, i want to be young forever.

i found the boys at the right time, or they found me. and my heart quintupled in size, and it just kept growing and growing and i kept growing up and, jesus christ, getting older is never easy when all your worries become so real. your friend gets sick, your family member passes away, your childhood self is bitterly wailing again, telling you that you never wanted to grow up because this would happened. and it did. it did.

liam died. he was part of my favorite band, and all i can remember is feeling utter hysterical joy watching one direction moments on youtube. isn’t that so silly. he had no idea who most of us were, but he made me laugh when all i wanted to do was cry. i can’t forget that.

and if you ever feel alone guys (hahaha) don’t </3

[castielsprostate]

supernatural season 16 episode 8 and they're getting one direction back together. that's it. that's the episode. harry and dean fuck nasty in the janitor's closet. castiel gives liam a hug and sam plays him as his body double, in a wig. jack gives niall sainthood because none of the saints are irish and he has a diversity quota to hit. crowley and zayn get along weirdly well, like eerily well, bffs at first glance kinda well, and they sacrifice louis to rowena for funsies.

also harry is a werewolf and it's turned into a weird gay allegory that would've done really well in 2008 but now feels like it's trying to hard

[changbeansss]

Last first kiss

Pairings : Bestfriend!Felix x reader

Genre : Best friends to lovers, fluff

Warnings : Kissing

Word count : 503

The soft glow of the moon filtered through the curtains, casting a gentle light on the room where you and Felix sat. It was one of those perfect summer nights, the kind that made you feel like anything was possible. The two of you had been best friends for years, sharing countless laughs, secrets, and dreams. Tonight, however, felt different. There was an unspoken tension in the air, a feeling that something significant was about to happen.

Felix leaned back against the couch, his golden hair falling slightly into his eyes. He looked at you with a softness that made your heart skip a beat. You were both listening to music, a playlist of nostalgic songs from your teenage years. As One Direction's "Last First Kiss" began to play, Felix's eyes seemed to darken with an emotion you couldn't quite place.

"I love this song," you said softly, more to fill the silence than anything else. Felix nodded, his gaze never leaving your face.

"Yeah, it's a good one," he replied, his voice low and almost husky. There was a pause, and then he added, "Do you ever think about what it would be like to have that kind of love? The kind where your first kiss with someone is also your last?"

The question caught you off guard. You had thought about it, of course, but admitting that out loud felt too vulnerable. "Sometimes," you admitted, looking away, feeling a blush creep up your cheeks.

Felix moved closer, his hand reaching out to gently turn your face back toward him. "You know," he began, his thumb lightly tracing your jawline, "I've been thinking about something for a while now."

Your heart was pounding so loudly you were sure he could hear it. "What is it?" you asked, your voice barely a whisper.

His eyes searched yours, and in that moment, it felt like time stood still. "I've been thinking about you," he said simply. "About us. And how much I care about you."

Before you could respond, Felix leaned in, closing the distance between you. His lips brushed against yours softly at first, testing the waters. The kiss was tender and sweet, but it quickly deepened as you both gave in to the feelings you'd been holding back for so long.

When you finally pulled apart, both of you were breathless. Felix's hand cupped your cheek, his eyes filled with love and determination. "I've loved you for so long," he confessed. "I don't want to be just friends anymore. I want us to be together, really together."

Tears of joy welled up in your eyes as you smiled. "I love you too, Felix. I always have."

With that, Felix pulled you into another kiss, this one filled with all the passion and promise of a future together. As the song played on in the background, you knew that this was your last first kiss. The beginning of something beautiful and lasting, with your best friend by your side.

[cryinginmelodrama]

Grief is a cruel promise. Everyone says it will get better, as if that’s some consolation, as if that’s not the greatest tragedy of all. Because one day, I’ll wake up, and the edges of this pain will be dulled. The world will turn a little softer, the weight on my chest a little lighter. And that feels like betrayal. It feels dishonorable to live in a world where the hurt doesn’t claw at my insides with the same ferocity. Because I’ll still be here, and they won’t, and it feels obscene to move forward when they cannot. I don’t want it to get better. I want this grief to linger, to carve itself into my bones, to nestle deep inside my chest, close to the heart that still aches for them. This pain is the last gift they left me; it’s the proof that they mattered. That they shook my world and left it unsteady, that they changed the shape of my days and nights. It’s the scar their love left behind, the tender reminder that I was once touched by a life that has slipped away. I’m in no hurry to be better. I want this ache to echo for as long as it can, like a name spoken into the wind, like a memory that refuses to fade. Because in this grief, I find traces of them still—teaching me in silence, guiding me through the darkness they left behind. It is a broken kind of wisdom, one that reminds me that to love is to lose and still reach out with trembling hands.

[harrywavycurly]

Texting Boyfriend Harry Styles Part 15: Important

Masterlist: Here

CW: None

Tag List: @styleswithaseaview @blckburd

A/N: You think Harry is running late but then half an hour goes by, enjoy Harry being a sappy mushy mess and then full on stressing towards the end✨