#cheesy as in corny

[sallymew4]

found this cool magazine while i was out. looked into it a little bit and found out it was from a vintage series, with this specific issue originally being printed in October of 1977 !! the publish date is also at the top right corner, but its a little hard to see with the glare lol

https://postmarkedfromthestars.com/products/ufo-magazine-oct-1977-kidnapped-by-space-aliens?variant=43066407977202 heres a site that shows a few pages inside, but its totally sold out of copies

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

anything u need me to be, ill be it for u!

[rouge-the-bat]

he said this, trust me

[ohithankyou]

tommy’s the kind of guy that’d say “i’m in the mood for something sweet right now,” and when buck would go through and list out tommy’s most beloved sweet treats as suggestions of what he could have, tommy would reply with, “those are good, but i’m in the mood for something even sweeter,” and then gently cradle buck’s face in his hands - like he’s the most delicate, precious thing in the world - and kiss his lips good and hard, going, “mhmmmm sugar rush,” when they finally part

[kinkystims]

i love seeing queer black people in relationships with each other. i love black dykes. i love black t4t. i love black polycules. i love black lesbianism and homosexuality and transgenderism and queerness and all the ways we can form affirming relationships (romantic, sexual, platonic, familial, communal, and other) with each other. love you black people. i love loving you black people. i love the way you love me back <3

[melodyartist]

I finally redone the hot spring sprite for Atlas, does it look right? No, definitely not...

But hey! Since I have two sprites now I can do mini dialogues thingy things for fun! (Left to right)

[chickensauras]

...this is the result of procrastination :T

[fizzierolli]

anyway here's the best song in helluva boss

[orengejoshi]

Paperhatober Day 15: Pink💗

[specshroom]

★- Little drabble about Choso's sense of humour:

One day when you're lazing around with him. He's reading a book and your laying on his chest, head resting on your arm as you stare at him. You do this often, he's gotten used to it. You ask out of the blue, "Hey, what's that line across your nose for?"

He pauses looking away from the book, eyes on yours. "What line?"

".....The- the line."

You point at your face, trailing a finger across your nose, cheek to cheek. He just stares blankly. You sit up a little now.

"Choso, the mark across your nose. What is that?"

"What mark?" You want to laugh but his face is so deadpan that you're not sure if he's playing with you or not.

You huff and pull him up from his reclined position, pulling him towards the mirror in your bedroom.

"Come, I'll show you then."

Before Choso reaches the mirror he swipes his arm across his face using his technique to gather the blood mark and remove it from it's usual spot, leaving a small mass of floating blood behind his back.

"What are you talking about?" He says trying so hard to keep that deadpan expression.

You turn to look at the mirror to see the signature mark has disappeared from his beautiful face! You stammer for a few seconds looking between him and the mirror until you just fall into laughter.

"Choso!" You push him lightly, now knowing for sure that he's messing with you. He chuckles and pulls you closer, pointing a finger at your nose.

"ohh, you mean this mark?" He says and turns your head towards the mirror where you see that he's moved the blood mark onto your face, across the bridge of your nose.

You laugh again, staring at yourself, hands going up to touch the strange mark. He smiles lovingly and kisses your head.

[sandstormjoneshusband]

Uhhh

Text + Inspo:

[scrumptiousstuffs]

Yes! A kind Twitter fan has translated the whole lyrics for the dancing scene (credit as above)

I mentioned previously there is a reason why Jojo chose this dance no (and song ) 🎶

- the lyrics are basically describing Bison’s current state of mind

The Heart Killers, episode 2

[margridarnauds]

I think, in general, the Italian peplum films deserve more discussion when it comes to adaptations of Ancient Mediterranean material, since they tend to cover periods of time that aren't usually covered by adaptations that originate in the Anglosphere (and overall, the mood is similar, but subtly different, from what you get in a lot of Anglo depictions of Rome and Greece).

They are also often fun rides that are *also* often dubbed into English...often poorly, which makes them even better.

[livelovecaliforniadreams]

Lacey Chabert + Dustin Milligan In Hot Frosty 

[mediumgayitalian]

“Happy birthday!”

“Still not my birthday, Solace.”

“Eh. One day I’ll say it and it’ll be right.”

The flowers he’s holding — pretty, ruffled deep red, although Nico doesn’t recognise them — remains extended between them, clutched fist unwavering. Nico rolls his eyes, biting the inside of his cheek, and takes them.

“Of course, you could also just tell me when your birthday is.”

“No.” A pause. He brings the flowers up to his face, pointedly ignoring Will’s wink, and inhales. They smell almost identical to the shampoo Will wears. “You’re such a loser.”

“And yet you spend all your time with me.”

“Not — all,” Nico protests, cheeks burning. “I spend —”

Time with others, he was about to say, and while it is indeed true that he does, in fact, socialize with more than one person, he realises with startling clarity that Will is almost always there.

Will grins, wide and cheeky and knowing. “Having some thoughts, there, Neeks.”

“Shut the fuck up.”

Will gasps dramatically, and when that is not enough he holds up a hand, digs a string of plastic pearls out from his many pockets, clasps them around his neck, clears his throat, and gasps even more dramatically, clutching said pearls.

Nico laughs.

Unfortunately.

But he chokes it back last minute and turns it into a weird horse noise instead, so he’s victorious, basically.

“How dare,” says Will, indeed dramatically, “how dare, di Angelo, deride me, your closest friend, in such a way —”

Nico deliberates his options. Should Will have the space unimpeded to continue on than he shall do so, with increasing gusto. At the six minute mark he will graduate to elevating himself on whatever surface makes itself available, from an infirmary stool to An Actual Roof, and project his voice to make sure that everyone suffers his Elizabethan histrionics, not just Nico (or Kayla or Austin or Lou especially Cecil or Mitchell or Piper or or or or). At the nine minute mark he will be accompanied, magically, by intense background music, because Apollo deserves all of his trauma. Nico doesn’t know what the ten minute mark will bring, but frankly he’d rather walk on hot coals with open sores on his feet than find out, so.

“— good friends, sweet friends, from this group I hail, and to such a sudden flood of mutiny! To bend to the leadborn suffering —”

When Nico gestures he is graceful, obviously. And poised. When Will gestures he narrowly avoids smacking himself square in the face nine times out of ten, and sometimes, like now, he actually does smack himself in the face, but for some reason this does not deter or embarrass him. Perhaps because he, like most Apollo children, does not actually have the part of his brain that produces shame, and such gleeful shamelessness shows in his devastatingly wide eyes. Which are, Nico notices, beginning searching for the nearest climbable surface.

Ah. Level one has been exceeded.

“Hide not thy poison with such sugar’s words —”

Drastic times, drastic measures; in time of theatre kid, regress to caveman instincts. Et cetera. Nico knows the drill. He’s a twice-adorned war hero. He understands sacrifice. He understands betrayal. He knows timing, knows difficulty. He knows the burden of doing the right thing to prevent further tragedy.

He sets his flowers delicately on the ground beside him, ties his hair back out of his face, does a couple stretches, exhales peacefully, and tackles Will to the floor.

“Shut up,” he grunts, over Will’s screeching. Will, predictably, does not shut up, moaning instead about his spleen, his spine, pausing to yell, loudly, et tu, Brutus?!, moaning about his kidneys, and then once again wallowing about Brutus and betrayal.

“Someone should take away your Riverside,” Nico says solemnly, pinching Will on the arm one last time for good measure before crawling off him.

Will remains on the floor, arm thrown over his eyes. “I would sooner live without the lungs in my chest.”

“It’s gonna be me. I’m taking away your Riverside.”

Will lifts his arm, searching to meet Nico’s eyes before pouting. It is a remarkably well-planned strategy, because he has very pretty eyes, and Nico is a flaming homosexual who is openly weak to Will’s wiles. Will, who is a shit and judging by the smirk he is barely fighting back in favour of a quivering lip, knows this.

“Don’t you love me?”

“No,” Nico lies. He forces himself away from Will’s gaze, ears burning. “Go away, you walking annoyance. I never want to see you or anything about you ever again.” He scoops up his flowers and stomps off, smiling as Will cackles.

He carries around the flowers for the rest of the day.

[ispyspookymansion]

i dont care about chappell roan but some of you arent seeing the gates of heaven for the incredibly harsh way youve been talking about her. maybe contemplate why you feel the need to be so shitty about one of the only young lesbian popstars and unpack that before you sooooo bravely make another textpost calling her a bitch i mean a cunt i mean a stupid fucking bitch wow i MEAN a hack musician 🙄🙄🙄