#and go back to our roots

[m00neroni]

remus john "I run away from every problem life presents me with and I am a people pleaser at my core" lupin is NOT an Alpha, this nonsense has to stop

[wishfulsketching]

They both need a nap

[winonaparadise]

Girls With Horns #1-#10

a comic about being a girl, with a little extra

read more on patreon

[trustiskingandqueen]

"I think you're very sophisticated."

Watercolor pencil on gray sketch paper <3

[simplydnp]

totally normal about the 'wedding?' response continuing to evolve even though it's only been 5 shows. at this point i'm convinced the grand plan behind tit is to convince dan via exposure therapy that he's allowed to want to get married

[rendevok]

Narumitsu Barbie(Edgeworth) and Ken(Phoenix)

This barbie is violently fuchsia and he’s just nick

Thanks for the request! This was silly and fun hehe ^^

[fattoads]

I Would Give Jesus A Little Kiss.

[tangible-fortitude]

them!

[shima-draws]

Luffy spent 80+ episodes trying to get his boyfriend back only to watch his boyfriend get blown up by a dragon who’s had WAY too many drinks. Yeah I’d be super fucking pissed too

[gossip-girl-of-middleearth]

Everyone on the hate train for the new Wish movie, meanwhile I’m enjoying the Chris Pine Jack Frost to King Dude pipeline, like, all I’m saying is 2012 tumblr would’ve eaten this shit up

[silkjade]

‘Rose, oh roses, grant me my wish. Blooming from the stone, the Golden Rose sang to me.’

“An exiled scholar once cultivated these roses specifically to survive the desert.…but something so special should be regarded alongside someone worthy of its beauty. Delicate, yet strong. For your personal archives….”

“personal archives” because my s/i is an archivist at the akademiya, and now here it is in our teapot bedroom muahaha

[chocolatecakecas]

i need to be so consumed by destiel that i'm compelled to make content again. and i think we should all go back to this mindset. bring back full time destiel bloggers

[darlingeames]

‘You’re Blackbeard?’

Ed – Blackbeard, for Christ’ sake – pops his head out of the wardrobe into the cabin to see if whoever called for him left, then turns back to Stede.

‘Yep. Blackbeard. That’s me.’

Stede, still holding the stupid fucking pants, openly gapes. He thinks for a split second that he should be careful what he says next, how he acts – he knows the man in front of him is incredibly dangerous. But he doesn’t feel it. So it doesn’t matter.

‘But I just asked you, and you said you work for him.’

Ed. Short for Edward fucking Teach.

He vaguely remembers seeing all that leather surrounded by smoke before he lost consciousness, Ed’s voice saying I’ve heard all about you.

‘Techincally, that’s not not true, you know,’ Ed says, and he looks a bit smug. Like he’s proud of his little trick. ‘You could say that being Blackbeard is my job.’

This man is incredibly peculiar, Stede thinks. He grips his pants tighter, which Ed seems to notice.

‘Since you already got up, even though really, you should take it easy, or your guts will spill out, take it from someone who’s been stabbed countless times before, you probably want to get dressed, I’ll leave you to it–’

And Ed starts to get out of the auxiliary closet, but then he turns back.

‘Wear those pants, the colour’s gorgeous.’ And, to Stede's absolute dismay, Ed winks at him.

Left alone in his secret closet, Stede thinks that any rational man would probably at least entertain the possibility that Blackbeard would lock him in said secret closet and steal his crew and ship – but then, Ed was so kind, and he could have killed Stede in his sleep anyway if he would have so desired, so the thought passes so fleetingly through Stede’s mind that it leaves behind no trace.

Stede does indeed put on the pants, and a white shirt and the black cravat, because he felt the need for something to counterbalance the redness of his flesh where the noose had choked him.

He barely stepped out of the closet when Ed turns from looking up at the chandeliers. 

‘What other cool stuff do you have in here?’

So Stede shows Blackbeard his library.

Stede has a feeling, the moment an unknown man, with incredibly kind, large brown eyes wakes him up from his feverish nightmare. He feels, more than he thinks, that of course, this is exactly the way it should be. If it had been Lucius or Olwande sitting on his bed, warning him not to get up too fast lest his guts spill out, he would have felt disappointed, and he would not for the life of him been able to pinpoint exactly why. But Ed, who works for Blackbeard, and who looks exactly like someone who would work for Blackbeard, assures him that he might be a decent pirate since the Spanish didn’t manage to kill him yet, and takes an interest to Stede’s best robe and he can’t tell silk from cashmere but he keeps rubbing it between his fingers, and Stede knows nothing about this man, and the part of him that has been reading pirate stories all his life yells that it might be a trap, they are pirates, for fuck’s sake, they screw each other over all the time, he could be lying for all you know and your crew is either dead or imprisoned and you’re this close to being thrown overboard – but it’s such a distant tirade, and Stede can barely hear it over the sound of his robe rustling between Ed’s fingers, and he’s been dying to tell someone just how much fun he’s had while having the Revenge built. 

So really, it’s no choice at all.

‘Can you keep a secret?’

It turns out that pirates do lie and do screw other people over, even if it’s such for a bit of fun – Ed says No, I’m Blackbeard, and Stede thinks Christ alive, did I really bring the actual Blackbeard into my auxiliary closet that nobody but us knows about and showed him my fucking summer linens, how has this become my life, and stares in horror at the back of Ed’s head, at the unruly mess of salt and pepper curls, and thinks of the worst. But Ed shows no sign of it meaning anything at all – doesn’t call back to whomever it was that was looking for him, and doesn’t start laughing at Stede –

In seconds, quick as silver, the two images in Stede’s head become one – this is Blackbeard, he knows he is, just as he knows he’s not in any real danger, just as he knows the sparkle he saw in Ed’s eye when he opened the secret door was real.

He’ll never look at him and think Blackbeard. That word still conjures up the fantasy version of Black Pete’s stories, the one in his books, the smoke and the glowing eyes and the nine pistols, and the ruthlessness and bloodthirst. That Blackbeard has never had anything to do with his Ed, the man that woke him up and seemed thrilled with all of Stede’s idiosyncrasies, from his clothes to his two chandeliers and his books. In this world, it’s one of his biggest failings – he’s never been able to look at Edward Teach and see what he should have seen. What his crew saw. What Izzy had tried so hard to preserve. He had taken one look at the man and Stede, in his feverish, incredibly embarrassed state, hadn’t seen the leather and the tattoos and the years upon years of having the sea as a home, he saw kind eyes, he felt a warm hand, and he didn’t meet Blackbeard, he met a man that made the simple act of breathing easier.

[milksteakkk]

i need more in cannon wintersberg

[trustiskingandqueen]

jim jimenez / eyes

[dvcn-type]

Saw fanart of billford selfcest and it all clicked in my head. This REALLY is like rediscovering onceler