#(yes that was a pun)

[ldshadowdoodles]

Perchance a Lizzie covered in blood??

[231] Here you go anon- Bloody hell! -🌷

[motorverseofficial]

Not an ask but this is so great, my two favourite things in one blog, fictional skeletons and motorcycles

Haha, I'm glad you're enjoying the ride! Motorcycles are pretty cool (albeit extremely hard to draw). What's cooler than skeletons and motorcycles together? Thank you :3

- Mod Coffee

[briyourmotherdown]

black album era james facefucking you in backstage ughhhh

i have only one word. yes.

You can hear the excitement through the walls, feel the crowd roar in anticipation through the floor underneath your knees. You'd been waiting for him, dolled up and leaning up against the wall. There isn't much time, James let you know that when he pulled you by the wrist into his dressing room, his lips attached to your neck so quickly that it made your head spin.

Your head is thrown back in a gasp, eyes fluttering closed at the sensation of his hands groping at your hips and ass, feverishly trying to touch as much of you as he could before he had to go perform. Your hand finds the front of his jeans, palming the prominent bulge with a smirk. He hisses, grabbing the back of your hair to pull your face a few inches away from his to look at him.

"Are you gonna be a good girl?"

You nod instantly, lips parted.

"Then get on your knees."

And it's really sloppy when he does it. Knowing he doesn't have much time when he holds you by the hair with one hand, using his other hand to tap the tip against your lips, murmuring under his breath about how pretty you are, before you open your pretty mouth for him and stick out your tongue.

Your eyes water as he fucks your mouth, his grip on your hair stinging but it feels good, both of your hands pressed against both either side of his thighs for balance. The makeup that you'd spent so long doing to look pretty for him is streaming down your cheeks, black streaks and smudged lipstick.

"God, you look so fuckin' pretty like this," he says between grunts, pushing your head all the way down so that he touches the back of your throat, groaning when you gag around him, before pulling you away so that you can gasp a breath, "that's it, fuck."

You just want to please him, swallowing around his cock and humming whenever he praises you, locking eyes with him through your eyelashes. It's that image that sends him reeling, to see you so wrecked, drool dripping down your chin and hair and makeup completely dishevelled.

There's a knock on the door and he falters, but doesn't stop.

"James? You better get your ass out here!"

"I'm coming!" James yells back through clenched teeth, throwing his head back.

"Fuck. Fuck, I'm coming."

And he holds your head down with both of his hands when he does, groaning, and you dig your nails into the sides of his thighs as you take all he gives you down your throat.

When he finishes with a few more grunts, you pull off him with a pop and wipe your mouth with the back of your hand, still on your knees on the floor, gazing up at him starry-eyed.

He zips up his pants and lifts you up off your knees to kiss you, tasting himself on you, landing a few pats on your ass before he pulls away, "I'll see you after the show, sweetheart."

[mossy-thing]

A headcanon of mine is that when they first met, Celebrimbor was taller than Annatar, physically. Over the long years they worked alongside each other, Annatar got taller, but so very slowly that Celebrimbor didn't notice that his trusted friend was towering over him until it was already too late.

[gennianydots]

Sokka: Can’t you watch where you’re…?

Toph: Nope!

Sokka: Right! Sorry.

~~~

Sokka: Drink cactus juice! It’ll quench ya! Nothing’s quenchier. It’s the quenchiest!

Katara: Okay, I think you’ve had enough.

Sokka: Who lit Toph on fire?

~~~

Katara: What is that?

Toph: What, what is what?!

Sokka: It’s a giant mushroom! Maybe it’s friendly!

Katara: Let’s just keep moving. I hope Aang’s okay.

Sokka: Friendly mushroom! Mushy giant friend!

[foxlady3]

I thought I’d share a snippet from the next long overdue chapter of Metro City Zombie War:

He turned to his new henchmen aka heroes in disguise aka spies.

“Empty your pockets.”

“What? We haven't done anything,” the youngest protested. What had he claimed his name was? Oh yes, 'Benji.' 

Megamind drew his de-gun and aimed it between their leader's eyes. This one was 'Ethan,' he recalled, and the third was ‘Ilsa.’ 

“You have three seconds before I order the brainbots to shake you upside down by the ankles until everything loose falls out, including your inferior brains. Do it. Now.”

His real henchmen had followed his lead, drawing their firearms. “Hold your fire,” he ordered them. They were tense and twitchy after the attack by Destruction Worker, he didn't want any accidents.

Not yet, anyway.

The fake henchmen emptied their pockets, revealing a number of random items. The only things Megamind was interested in were the dehydrated cubes that thunked onto the cement sidewalk.

“Would you care to tell me why you're stealing corpses from the morgue?” Though he could make a couple of guesses. They wouldn't have come all this way into the quarantined area just for that, he was willing to bet that this wasn't their original goal.

“What are you looking for?” Megamind narrowed his eyes. “Or should I say, who?”

[whymustmyfavbooksbeunderrated]

Me and my siblings just got into an argument because my one sister was trying to say that Hephaestus WASNT A POWERFUL GOD?!?!?!?!? EXCUSE ME?!?!?? Just cause he’s staying in his lane does NOT mean that he isn’t BADASS

[billihill]

Get it off my chest, I guess

TW: mentions of depression, anxiety, suicide  Good day or night for everyone! If you guys know me, I am just another fan account for multiple fandoms, my name here on Tumblr is BilliHill and my pronouns are She/They. I write fanfiction, even though I haven’t written in months, usually for the everlark fandom (love them). But this ain’t about what I really wanted to write. I am a teacher. I teach English as Second Language in Brazil. That’s what I have been saying for three years so far.

I was correct, indeed.

I am an English teacher. However, the first time it really sunk in was, in fact, today. I started giving classes in the beginning of 2020, before the COVID-19 pandemic was in fact declared as a danger to society, so I didn’t really much experience “in class” and soon had to move to online classes. I made a bit of money that was used mainly for my Flight Attendent classes (that was my dream back then). Flash-forward I got my first real job as a simple secretary in a small company that a person of my blood knew one of the directors. I still maintained my online classes with the few on and off students I had. This happened in 2021. I worked and studied my ass off for my Flight Attendent course, but in the end, it was a “waste” of time, since all my efforts had gone to the trash, along with my dreams (I can tell that story in another time). The job I mentioned earlier was good, but my mental health was decaying. I’ve struggled with depression and generalized anxiety since I was about 10 and at 15, a week before my 16th birthday, I attempted suicide. It was hard, so hard, but I started going to therapy, took my meds. Everything was fine.  Until 2022. The meds weren’t working anymore, therapy was not what I was looking for and along with the news that I couldn’t be a Flight Attendent (at least for a while) broke me. I chose not to go to uni or college because of my dream and now I couldn’t be what I was dreaming to be since I got in High School. All my friends were in unis and colleges (or studying to be accepted in one) and I felt as if my life was stagnant and dull. I couldn’t see a future anymore.  2022 was not, in fact, all bad. It was in 2022 that I met and started dating my now girlfriend. Our families were totally fine with our relationship and her family helped A LOT with what I was going through that year. I love my girlfriend more than she could ever imagine. I wanted future with her then and I still want it. 2023 came and I left my job. I couldn’t take it anymore. That place was terrible, the people (expect some) were terrible and I was falling into that abyss again. I needed time for myself. I am better now; still adjusting my meds and all, but things seems to be much better than it once was. 

All of this was just the context. This text, however, is about being a teacher in Brazil. Teachers here are paid per hour, like in the US. One hour is basically 1 class, so it leaves us teachers nothing but getting an enormous amount of classes (more than we can physically and psychologically) to be able to live because we, teachers, do not have a fixed wage. It’s per hour, as I said before. Inflation made everything WORSE. I started to study in a private university (because I’m too dumb for a public one) in a course I never knew I’d like (and still don’t really know since it’s only the beginning of the semester). I got a scholarship that is basically a discount of the full fee (and a good one, actually) and things seemed to be going smoothly, correct? 

Kind of. 

I finally got a job in a small school of languages that is, guess what? In another town! It takes me almost 4 hours of train and bus to get to the school (round trip). It pays me almost the same price my private classes (a teeny bit more). I worked for 11 hours this month in total (we have HUGE celebration called Carnaval that took 1 week off the calendar and the classes had only began a week before the celebration. In my calculations, I would receive at least enough to pay the university monthly fee.  Gods, I was so fucking wrong. I was paid 1/3 of what I was expecting and that broke me. Not only because I cannot pay this month’s fee by myself (that is a pain in the ass, not gonna lie), but specially because that is the reality of the teachers here. So underpaid and overworked. Taking hours in public transportations, where you’ll have to endure standing up the whole course + standing up while teaching. It ain’t easy and it could be so so much worse. I still live with my mother, so no rent to be stressed about. We are able to eat everyday. We have internet. We ARE privileged in a way that most middle class people aren’t (even though I firmly believe that those mentioned earlier should NEVER be a privileged, but a right just as it says in the law.

I am, in many ways, tired. So so tired. I don’t know how I’ll be able to study and work without draining myself but then I remember it could be worse. It can always be worse. Maybe I am making a storm in a teacup, but I cannot help that’s what I feel. I can’t pay for therapy or my meds; I can’t pay the uni even with all the money I get (mostly because of my reckless behaviour with credit cards that I won’t be able to pay for now; I recognize that, even though I only spent that money because I thought I was going to be paid more); I can’t pay for my cats’ food, litter and vaxxes.  I am becoming what I’ve always feared. A burden.

Guess that’s life, correct? 

- BilliHill

[secretly-a-catamount]

Annabel Blackthorn ghostwrote this.

I love the "came back wrong" trope but from the opposite side.

Imagine you are dead. And then you are RIPPED from the embrace of decay into the world of the living again. Your memories are hazy and you don't recognize any of these people, but they act like they're close to you? Like they love you? So you try to get your memories back, to act like you belong here, but everybody tries to forget you died. And you can't. It is omnipresent. And just trying to grapple with that fact pushes the people who "love" you away, and they're incapable of understanding, and they're so confused, what's wrong N̶̄̀O̶͛͗T̷̉́ ̷͋͝Y̴̎̌Ȍ̴̈U̸̓R NÄM̴̃͑E̵̾̇? And you just need them to understand, you aren't that person! You aren't! You don't know who that person is! You don't know why any of this is happening, but they're unwilling to bend, they keep insisting you are that person, your memories will come back, everything will be normal again, and you want to scream and cry and claw yourself open to show them you're different. Your existence as a being wholly separate from whoever you "used to be" is a sin unto itself. All you can do is scrabble for life and to them, you're killing whoever they loved to do it.

just. lots of fun in that concept, you know?

[the-punforgiven]

Worldbuilding tip for aspiring fantasy authors! Give that swordsman a bigger ass

[proselles]

alex hirsch was really just so pissed that no one saw his epic old man yaoi that he went and wrote a whole new book and made a whole website specifically to show meticulous evidence that this weird old man fucked a triangle.

he really said what were ford and bill really doing in that pocket dimension they shared, hm? did you ever think of that? oh - you think it was just chess? hm. interesting. i dont.

the ultimate rare pair shipper. i have never seen a creator do this before. absolutely fascinating at every angle.

[fuffy2002]

dash MD

screencaps

[always-a-slut-4-ghouls]

People make fun of trans people who name themselves arson and it’s like, sorry you’re boring bro but naming yourself arson is super cool and hot

[rosie321go]

Jason walking into the kitchen, whistling and looking suspiciously happy: Another day, another slay

*later that day

Dick: have you seen the news? Apparently someone killed the Joker

Tim:

Tim: Oh, he was serious?

[english-history-trip]

15th century (Houppelande the Ritz)

Early 16th century (God please, not the codpiece)

Late 16th/early 17th centuries (That's ruff, buddy)

Mid-17th/early 18th century (If it ain't Baroque, fix it)

Mid-18th century (Big tent party)

Late 18th/early 19th century (Empire state of mind)

Mid-19th century (Hoop springs eternal)

Late 19th-early 20th century (Hustle and bustle)

1910-20s (Ankles aweigh)

[gay-little-izzet]

Luna Moth 🌙

As with moth Jace, this isn’t necessarily speculative, I just wanted to draw some moth-based designs 💛