#It is very tasty

[the-writing-mobster]

This Dove may be Dead, but by golly it's perfectly cooked. Only the best for my beloveds. 🫶🏻

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[pop-squeak]

anyone want some naan? I got plenty to share :)

[mayday-mayd4y]

*slides these orange slices into your inbox*

😋

[layraket]

eating takis huakamole at 9:12 pm while trying not to die coughing and reading one of the 198 fics i have marked for later is my usual friday idea

[skulkingwriter]

ETA: IVE JUST SEEN THE CAT PENDANT IN THE FOURTH ONE OH NO

I loved my friend.

He went away from me.

There's nothing more to say.

The poem ends,

Soft as it began-

I loved my friend.

[buildoblivion]

cosmic horror who my beloved

[straybird25]

Happy holidays!

[somerandomcockroach]

[th3e-m4ng0]

cybertronian food

[js-dragonart]

"Tasty bröther."

Had this on my mind for a while now, ever since I watched this interview. The dynamic between these two goofballs is just so wholesome. Tom always fooling around while Ewan tries to stay professional and has this "I can't take him anywhere" look on his face.

[potato-lord-but-not]

HEY HEY HEY LOOK WHAT I FOUND ON PINTEREST

IT’S THEM. HOLY GHOSTS

ITS THEM MY GOD bc bc bc @blueberyboy where is your version please share with the class

also mine for sillies look at them

[devotion-disorder]

I had a dream today where Noel chased me through a factory where they sort nectarines, peaches and juice, and then tried to catch me in a pool of peaches. I don't know what it meant, but it was the most delicious dream I've had in a long time lol

Noel would look good as a peach factory worker tbh

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

hi hello tonight i’m thinking about reformed!geto again …….. he is mostly brooding and silent. bitter, obviously, a little snarky but he’s still compliant; doesn’t cause too much trouble, keeps the name-calling to a minimum. still won’t look you in the eye and still can’t train with the students without playing far too rough, but you think he’s making progress.

with the way he follows at your heel, it’s hard not to think of him as some kind of guard dog — one you’ve been tasked to keep at bay. he doesn’t stray too far from your side, even on the rare occasion he’s allowed to be without your surveillance. if he hates being bound to you, he’s awfully good at hiding it.

but dogs will be dogs. the moment a non-sorcerer tries to touch you, the moment they get close with unwanted advances or misguided hatred — he bites. you don’t have time to stop it, and for what feels like an eternity you’re convinced he killed them. but geto clicks his tongue, and lands a kick against their skull, and you recognize the twitch of a living thing. a gift to you; an act of tremendous restraint in your name, if only out of respect for the way you begged the higher ups to take him back. it doesn’t change the scent of iron, the freezing look in his eyes, the snap of his muzzled jaw. but a part of you is happy, to feel the pulse of an almost faded heartbeat. proud.

it’s progress, after all. an attack dog on a leash.

[screwpinecaprice]

I was trying to eat noodles neatly and for some reason I got sad midway. So I drew them messy eating a biscuit and a strawberry to combat sad noodle blues.

[daftpatience]

the long-awaited sticker sheet of my mascot, digit