#this is FAR from perfect lmao

[marleysfinest]

🦋blue eyed boy🦋

[nemmet]

🌻💙 happy autism month to this wonderful silly guy, and all his boundless enthusiasm for what he loves!!!

[blabberoo]

I imagine both drifter and bobby are somewhat desensitized of death. Bobby more so cares less of corpses and sees them more as things to loot, while drifter is somewhat numb to the ticking timer he's in (he makes off handed jokes about himself that sounds slightly concerning). Drifter still respects the dead and what theyve left behind, thinking that borrowing their weapons as some sort of relief for the dead (Quirrel's words ;u;). "Borrowing", because he knows well it will be used by others when these things outlives him, and hes ok with it. (He also believes that a tool that still serves its functions has no reason to go unused)

Bobby is a loud and proud jerk, and drifter rattled that concept simply by just being himself, unexpectant on how it would affect bobby. While he had been familiar of death, he never properly grasped the concept of losing someone he truly loved.

And he doesnt know how to deal with it.

[buttdumplin]

Of course you want to show off the food of your hometown to the boys, but this really should have been a solo date with Kyle. Still, you manage to sneak some time together.

cw: Gaz x reader, fat latine reader, gn!reader, implied poly 141, established relationship, mexican slang word count: 1845

You throw the car into park and glance up at your rearview mirror. The three white boys smushed into the backseat push at each other to try to take a look through the window, grunts and mumbles escaping them. Kyle chuckles from the passenger seat, watching the commotion unfold.

“Are we sure this was a good idea?” you turn to Kyle, “We could have brought it back to the house for them.”

“No saben igual después de tanto tiempo, y tu bien lo sabes, tesoro,” Kyle responds, an impish smile on his face.

With a groan, you close your eyes and throw your head against the headrest. It’s the first time yall are back in your hometown for more than a week, and with all the extra time to yourselves, the plan was to eat as much good food as possible. One of your tías told you about this place, where they serve al pastor straight from the trompo, each slice almost caramelized to a delicious crunch. They’ve got the pineapple sitting on top, too. She said it was the best quality she’s seen in town to date. Even her husband won’t stop talking about it. And now here you all are, parked against the curb with the air on full blast.

Every time you’ve gone to a mom and pop shop like this, it’s been you and Kyle stepping in first. You go in with kindness and chatter, and the older ladies always helplessly swoon over Kyle. Laughter bubbles and you both eat happily, and sometimes the ladies sneak extras onto your plates. It’s a sacred time full of loud smooches, the staff going “UUUUU’ all around you, a deep blush on Kyle’s face as you wipe at the corner of his mouth with a napkin, his radiant smile set to make your heart burst. It’s perfect. It’s home.

Once you’ve scoped out a place with your own private date, then you bring your white boys over. At that point, you’ve already tried the place, showered Kyle in kisses, and built rapport with the staff. So by the time they step in, the sun drawing eyes to their paleness, the staff won’t try to upcharge you. It’s a genius pull, honestly, one you’ve done yourself with tremendous success. The white folks always have more than enough money to spare, and since they usually don’t know the prices, well that’s on them. But as you sit here in the car, listening to them point out all the little details of the shop to each other, you can’t help but wish you’d left them at home.

Kyle notices the disappointment on your face as you pick at your fingers. Try as you might to keep your face neutral, your expressions are always so easy for him to read. This is the first time your private outings have been interrupted, all because the shop is just a bit too far from the house for the tacos to travel well and your cousin had to fucking say so. He reaches for your hand, bringing it to his mouth for a kiss, waiting for you to make eye contact with him. There’s a distinct sadness in his eyes, a bittersweetness that’s never appeared on these outings before.

“Next time?” a little bit of hope cracks through his voice.

“Next time,” you swear, noticeably glum.

A thought freezes you before you can undo your belt. You reach for Kyle’s hand again, silly grin on your face, and turn around towards the other boys.

“How do you ask for the price of something?’ you ask them.

Kyle holds back his laughter at the question, squeezing your fingers with excitement. There’s joy on his face again and that’s all it takes for you to know you made the right call.

¿Cuánto cuesta?” they all say as one.

“No,” you say, your splitting with a grin, and Kyle can’t hold in his laugh. “Sorry boys, you’re staying here. Kyle and I will be right back.”

They don’t have the chance to protest or question before you’re bolting out of the car, coming around to open Kyle’s door and pull him from his seat. He lets out another loud laugh, the crinkles around his eyes sending warmth blooming in your chest. You’re both still giggling, if a little out of breath from sprinting inside, when one of the staff steps up to greet you, an older woman who's clearly enjoying the life you’re bringing into the place.

“Hola, mis niños. ¿Es su primera vez aquí? No me acuerdo haberlos visto antes, y a esas caritas las recordaría.”

“Primera vez. Un primo nos dijo de este lugar. Y nomas al verlo, se ve rebueno,” Kyle says, bringing you in closer as you wrap your arm around his waist.

“Una cita con el novio,” you tell her. It’s hard to keep a smile off your face with your sudden success, and it seems to catch in the staff member as well.

As she goes off to put in your order, Kyle helps you pack up some salsa, holding the small containers for you to scoop the goods into. You’re trying to figure out just how many containers you can fit into your hands, Kyle reminding you that you’ll need more guacamole than any salsa, when she returns with a big bag full of much smaller plastic bags of guacamole for you. Before you can even thank her, she’s handing each of you a plate with two smaller tacos, winking at you.

“Si quieren, pueden esperar ahí,” she points towards the door with her eyebrows, where there’s a couple of swings.

Walking over, you eye them a little nervously, worried about the structural integrity. The last thing you need is for it to give out on you, regardless of how nice it might be to reminisce in the seat.

“They’re welded,” Kyle whispers in your ear, “They’re solid.”

Sweet tears brim your lashes as you pull him down to cover his cheek in quick kisses. You can feel his shoulders shake with quiet mirth as he stays in place, accepting as much love as you’re willing to give him. If it were up to him, he’d never move from the spot, not even if his back starts aching or if hunger pangs strike. He’d stay pressed to you until something or someone forced him away. So for now he takes what he can.

“We should eat these before they get cold,” the false concern in your voice clear as you gently rock in the swing.

“Definitely. Wasting them would be disrespectful,” his voice low, pulling at the chain of your swing to bring you close together.

The first bite has you turning to look at each other with wide eyes, a pleasant shock bouncing between you. Words can’t do it justice. Your tía’s husband hyped these tacos up so much that you were a little worried about being disappointed. Turns out he didn’t talk about them enough. All either of you can do is let out groans as you chow down silently, Kyle’s strong arm keeping your swings connected.

“Hijo de su pinche putisima madre,” you say, gulping for breath around the sheer ecstasy of the food.

“Que chingandos fue eso?” he says, soft eyes searching yours as if you have the answer. They say food is sex, but the closest he’s ever come to feeling like this has been with you. What the fuck did they put in this. He leans back to face the woman behind the counter, “Seño, nos puede dar otras dos órdenes más porfa?”

“Ya te las puse, precioso,” she says, stepping towards him with a bulging bag in her hand, “Sabía que iban a necesitar más. El amor hace que te dé más hambre.” Before either of you can get up, she’s shoving another two little tacos into your hands, pressing a finger to her smiling lips.

You take slower bites this time, smiling at each other with cheeks bulging full of food. Now that you know what you’re in for, you’re going to savor every piece. Swings still connected, you nudge Kyle’s foot with the toe of your shoe, pressing your knee more firmly against his. He looks so at peace, his shoulders slightly scrunched as he carefully brings the food to his mouth, his nose crinkled up with delight at each bite he takes. You have the brief thought that maybe you should take a picture of this moment, but you can’t bear to tear your eyes from him. And when he turns, those big brown eyes locked on you, you’re sure you’ll never blink again.

“¿Que piensas, mi vida?” he caught your stare.

“Que te adoro,” you speak the words into his skin, kissing the arm holding your swings together.

“En aceite?”

“Clarín.”

Kyle quickly scans the room, just enough to make sure no one is looking your way, before bending and planting a tender kiss on your lips. His lips taste faintly of salt and fat, just as yours surely do, and you wish you could deepen the kiss, wanting more of the delectable combination. But he pulls away before you can, hunger for you burning in his eyes.

His voice is rough when he speaks again, tongue peeking out in search of the lingering taste of you, “We should get back to them.”

“When we get home?” your voice so breathless you barely recognize it as your own.

Kyle nods and stands, holding the bag of food in front of him, trying to discreetly adjust his pants. You’re both giggling again as he reaches for you, gently helping you up from the swing. Smiles are still stuck in place when you reach the car, slipping into your seats without saying another word.

You pause for a moment, waiting for some kind of commentary from the backseat. Now that you’re back in the car, you can look over and see that the swings are in clear sight of the car. A glance up at the rearview mirror shows you three grinning faces, each one more knowing than the next. They could dog you, tease you, joke about the scene they surely saw. But they don’t. Instead, Simon’s tummy breaks the silence, a loud rumble echoing through the car.

The entire car bursts into peals of laughter, the racket interrupted only long enough to deal out plates and servings. Kyle was right about the guacamole, as the boys pour entire little baggies of it on their tacos. Can’t blame them, honestly. That shit is creamy. And then a corus of moans breaks out in the backseat, first bites hitting hard enough to make the most stoic of them break into delight. You look over at Klye, find him already looking at you, and you both nod enthusiastically, biting into your food.

“We’re coming back,” he says, and then lower, “Just us next time.”

“Fuck yeah we are, that was set in stone the moment the woman greeted us. Gotta show off my boyfriend again,” you wink at him.

[petz5]

this was supposed to be a warmup sketch but i decided last minute to slap colors on

[cdroloisms]

also, (sorry to soapbox, i promise this will be the last of it), as an added note to the little conversation from yesterday about dreblr--i have to say that there's been ,,, uh, a slightly concerning amount of "us versus them" rhetoric especially about c!tommy apologists recently, as far as i've observed. and look, i get how the fandom's history plays into this, but dreblr isn't some separate special "better" version of the dsmp fandom. we're just dsmp fans who tend positive towards c!dream, which is a valid way of enjoying the story, but you know, so's hating c!dream's guts, lmao. people aren't unable to have valid opinions on the story or on c!dream just because they're negative about him and positive about c!tommy, which is like, literally just normal too, lmao, c!tommy is the generally good-aligned character we follow for most of the story and c!dream is the generally evil-aligned character that hurts him? being an analyst in dreblr doesn't automatically equal being "more correct" just because it's dreblr, and dismissing others' opinions just because they're a c!tommy apologist or whoever apologist isn't exactly a helpful way of approaching meta, either.

obviously no one is obligated to interact with anyone in this fandom that they don't want to interact with--we're here to have fun, it's not actually a professional field of analysis and debate. that being said, there is nothing about liking c!dream that is inherently superior to other dsmp fans. i know i've made a lot of general posts about dreblr versus "the greater fandom" which probably haven't helped with this feeling -- they're largely generalizations based on my experience in this fandom, and i don't want to come off as meaning that bad analysis is something that is Only found outside of dreblr (i've definitely been guilty of shit analysis more than a few times, lol) or that there's nothing that the rest of the fandom outside of c!dream apologist spaces has to offer. when it comes to individual enjoyment of the fandom and the characters, the point im making isn't that everyone has to do outreach to communicate with a c!tommy apologist or anything, lmao -- just that, you know, the general shady comments about how much better we are at analysis than those darn c!tommy apologists when they're not really relevant don't reeeeeally have to be as common as they are.

[wikiangela]

🥩 🥩

🏠 🏠🏠🏠🏠

💔 💔💔

🥵 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵

🦵 🦵🦵🦵

omg that's a lot of sentences lol thank you so much bc it was motivating and really moved some fics along haha 💝💝 so here's looots of words for you <3

+ tagging a few people who were also interested in some of those, you'll get sentences for your asks too, but give me time lol, it's a lot of sentences 🤣 (really appreciate it tho, I'm so motivated now, my fics are actually moving along haha <3), for now have these: @daffi-990 @diazsdimples @evansboyfriend @typicalopposite @eddiebabygirldiaz @jewishbuckley @monsterrae1 @steadfastsaturnsrings @hippolotamus

putting it all under the cut bc it got long, obviously haha

🥩 🥩 - 6 sentences of the bucktommy barbecue fic

When he walks back into the backyard, grabbing a bowl of salad and a basket of bread on his way, he’s greeted by a pretty great picture. His whole family is around the two tables they put together to fit everyone, getting acquainted with Tommy’s friends. The older children – Christopher, Denny and Mara – sit to the side, chatting between each other, the boys trying to include Mara in their conversation, while the two youngest are right next to Tommy. His boyfriend is at the grill, fire already started, as he tries to keep the girls a few steps away, while they’re excitedly chatting to him. It’s so adorable.  “Hey, girls,” Buck says as he approaches them, wanting to let his boyfriend grill in peace for a moment, “you wanna see something?” he asks, and it’s enough to get two toddlers’ attention.

🏠 🏠🏠🏠🏠 - 15 sentences of the moving in fic

“Something looks different here.” He frowns, looking around. Tommy’s confused, because he hasn’t really changed anything. He furnished his house a long time ago, from time to time changing stuff more out of necessity than anything else, but that’s it. He’s good at renovating, building, fixing, any interior design is not really his forte. He does have a few paintings and pictures, and some knick-knacks from the few places he traveled to, but not much else. He likes simplicity, and he never felt the need to add anything more. Clearly, something must’ve changed, though. “What do you mean?” he asks, seeing a few of the other guys nod in agreement, also looking around.  “It feels, like, cozier, doesn’t it?” Another co-worker, Sean, says with a small frown. “Unlike you, Kinard.” “Did you always have these cushions?” Another person asks, settling into the couch, picking one of said cushions up. It’s fluffy and yellow, and, according to Evan, brightens up the room. “They’re comfy.”

💔 💔💔 - 9 sentences of the buddie cheating fic (we're at the smut point of this fic rn and this is not going well but I'm persevering and istg I'll fix it once I have the basis all written haha)

The door is barely closed behind them before Eddie pushes Buck onto the bed and climbs on top of him, throwing his henley off in the process, so they’re both shirtless. He hovers over Buck for a second, shining brown eyes looking into blue ones, one of his hands reaching to intertwine their fingers. There’s desire mixed with disbelief on his face, but no doubt, no hesitation – that he kind of looks for, the thought that this is wrong, that it shouldn’t be happening, crossing his mind again. But then Eddie’s leaning in again, crushing his lips against Buck like he wants to devour him, his hips grinding against Buck’s, and any doubts, hell, any thoughts, just evaporate. It’s just him and Eddie, no one else exists.  His hands land on Eddie’s hips and slide down to his ass, and, god, he can’t wait to get him naked again. He can’t wait to see all of him, appreciate every detail of his gorgeous body, this time completely sober, and able to remember it fully.  “I need you.” Eddie moans into his lips, rolling his hips again, their clothed erections rubbing against each other. He swallows whatever Buck’s response was about to be in another hungry kiss, before going back to what he started in the living room – trailing his lips down Buck’s jaw, his throat, kisses alternating between soft and lingering, and biting and impatient, then down Buck’s chest, sliding down his body, until he’s face to face with Buck’s zipper.

🥵 🥵🥵🥵🥵🥵 - 18 sentences of the bucktommy smut - again, this one is not going well bc apparently I forgot how to write smut lol but I'll fix it haha

“You good?” Tommy asks quietly, and Buck nods frantically, his own hand moving to his crotch because if he doesn’t get out of his pants right now – but Tommy grabs his wrist. “Let me?” “Yeah.” Buck keeps nodding. “Just- please, I need you to touch me. Please.” Tommy swiftly undoes the button and zipper of Buck’s jeans, and Buck raises his hips, his hands helping Tommy shove the pants off his ass, satisfied when they stop around mid-thigh, and then he frantically pulls his underwear down, too, his leaking cock springing up against his belly instantly. He sees Tommy look at it and lick his lips, his eyes dark, and, fuck, Buck can’t wait for everything he’s going to give him. But for now, Tommy takes his time sliding Buck’s pants and underwear completely off his legs, muttering something about wanting Buck to be comfortable. Buck couldn’t care less about fabric restricting his legs, or any discomfort, as long as Tommy gets his hands on him.  And then he does – a big, rough, calloused hand, but the gentlest, softest touch, wraps around his dick. Buck inhales sharply, the feeling familiar, his own hands just as rough, but also so totally different.  Tommy looks up at him with big, shining eyes, scanning his face, as he thumbs Buck’s slit and gathers the generous amount of pre-come leaking out. Buck inhales sharply, a moan breaking out of him, not able to look away from Tommy’s face as his hand uses the liquid for an easier slide of his hand, as he starts stroking. His pace is slow, almost tortuously so, his movements deliberate, precise, eyes not leaving Buck’s face.  “Tommy,” Buck groans pleadingly, hand tangling in his soft curls. “Yeah, I got you.” Tommy whispers, his movements steadily picking up pace, still so in control, Buck’s in awe – and even more turned on.

🦵 🦵🦵🦵 - 12 sentences of the leg pain fic

“Looks amazing.” Buck smiles genuinely, though a little weakly, as he reaches for one of the plates. Tommy takes the place on his side- that is, on the other side of the bed, the one he usually sleeps on, that apparently Buck already started referring to as Tommy’s side. It’s not the first time they eat breakfast in bed together, and Buck’s the last person to worry about making a mess, especially right now, but Tommy is, as he hunches over the tray instead of taking the plate into his lap, like Buck did. Buck can’t help an endeared smile. He adores his boyfriend, and all his quirks, as he’s still learning more about him. And the best thing is, it feels like Tommy doesn’t mind any of Buck’s quirks, either – he seems to enjoy getting to know more and more about him, as well. He doesn’t think he’s ever felt this free to be himself, and this thought makes him wonder once again why the hell he was so hell-bent on hiding from Tommy that his bad leg hurts sometimes and once in a while it gets bad enough he has to take a day. Tommy gets it, gets him, and Buck feels so lucky to have found him. “The leg feel any better?” Tommy asks, shoving a forkful of the eggs into his mouth.  “A bit.” Buck shrugs. It’s not a lie, it feels like maybe the pain eased up a little bit, the painkillers kicking in, but it’s still very much there, and from experience he knows it’ll come back full force soon. 

[crazysnor1ax]

So what does Callie have to deal with after that first transformation?

Oooo, where to start LOL.

Werekrakens, even when transforming at a young age like normal, experience super intense senses, emotions and instincts for a good while after transforming.

Callie already had fairly good senses prior to transforming, but after they were unbelievably strong for her. Being able to hear, smell, and see everything out of essentially nowhere with no way to make it stop is agonizing for her. She's forced to get accustomed to it, which takes her several moons to do.

Not to mention her kraken side is more intense than ever and she can't let it out.

Prior to transforming she had SOME instincts, but it wasn't anywhere near how intense they normally are for a werekraken. After her first change her kraken is CONSTANTLY making her want to go wild. Even in small forms her kraken wants to come out-vocalizing her happiness/discomfort through growling or clicking like a kraken would, getting physically affectionate (like hugging more than she normally does lol) or aggressive, or just simply behaving like her kraken self in her inkling state.

The most notable instinct Cal has is the desire to change into her kraken state constantly. If she gets too emotional, either positively or negatively, her kraken IMMEDIATELY wants to take over and she can't let that happen for obvious reasons-which is painful for her because that's still her, that's still Callie and her kraken, as different as she acts while changed, is still fully her. A werekraken isn't divided into two halves, the "halves" are intertwined together and a part of each other. What Callie thinks she has to learn is how to separate them and regulate each one. She does not want to do this but understands that she has to.

[iridescentis]

so ive been practicing my singing recently because yk what's the harm in having a nicer voice? it's very fun and I'm enjoying it but I've been going through all of the rtc songs to see which ones are easier and which one suits me best and oddly enough, Talia is actually the easiest one for me to sing?? like that's the one I suck at the least and I actually love singing it but wtf?? why that one??

to rank them in difficulty

1. Talia - easiest, sounds the best, a lot of fun

2. Uranium Suite - if I focus on the boys' lines it's way easier and sounds better but I have a habit of accidentally defaulting to Ocean's lines which wreck my voice I cannot go that high

3. Sugar Cloud - Weirdly enough, I can sing this one decently, I get better towards the end because high notes are a no from me but if I take it down a notch it's quite fun!

4. It's Not a Game - Relatively easy but I can't make those high harmonies unfortunately

5. SABM - My voice cannot stay that low comfortably but the high note at the end is quite easy if I warm up properly and the song is generally so much fun

6. Noel's Lament - I can sing it but it doesn't sound good, I'm not all over the place but like I cannot achieve that kind of singing

7. TSIA - I mean it's rapping and I'm not very good at rapping lmao it just sounds like I'm rambling

8. WTWN - Ocean's high notes are too much for me LMAO it is fun though!

9. TBOJD - I mean it's obvious, but the verses I'm not bad at!

I love singing along to the background voices of Jane's entrance I'm pretty good at that, the new birthday song i love to sing all the time it is so silly and be safe, be good i'm quite good at! the voice for the verses is very comfortable for me :D

all of this being said, I cannot sing and have never tried learning to sing before I'm just trying things out, can you even have a vocal range if you're not a singer?? idk but I'm having fun regardless

[mhbcaps]

better late than never and better one than none :) nothing crazy happened on Sanctuary's birthday but Gogo demanded they all get a pic in front of this sign

thank you for letting Dagger, Esme, and Vinnie hang out with them @wraithsoutlaws @dustymagpie @imaginarycyberpunk2023 💜

happy Sunday :)

[torchickentacos]

Got back into art a bit! But I hate when you get into an art project and 15 mins and some poor layer management later, you realize that it looked better 15 minutes and 20 layers ago. i like the top one better kdjfkdjf. rip.

[devilsskettle]

i've watched a lot of good films lately in an attempt to catch up with a bunch of movies that have come out recently, but talk to me was the best movie i've seen in a LONG time

[seariii]

@eslover so.... tumblr doesnt allow to send audios on dms (lame) and i dont wanna invade your beautiful art

but lower the volume just in case. its a difficult song with highs and didnt do warm ups, so, just, dont judge too hard pls

[petr1kov]

zootopia would have never truly been able to work like it was meant to because using the prey vs predator dynamic as an allegory for racial prejudice is fundamentally flawed at an unfixable level, BUT if they had decided to go through with the shock collar concept all the way instead of turning it into a cop bootlicking party it would've at least been cool and interesting for a disney movie

[born-to-lose]

I <3 tote bags. What would I be without them

[imogenkol]

In the year of our lord, 2024, some of the fandom is still approaching the Jedi Order with zero nuance