#drowned magazine

[ironstringlikesmetal]

in honor of friday the 13th, here's more archived photos

𝖇𝖆𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗𝖞

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖇𝖔𝖔𝖐 𝖔𝖋 𝖆𝖗𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖊𝖉𝖉𝖔𝖓 #1

𝖇𝖗𝖎𝖘𝖊𝖓

𝖛𝖊𝖓𝖔𝖒

𝖋𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑 𝖜𝖎𝖓𝖉𝖘

𝖙𝖆𝖑𝖊𝖘 𝖔𝖋 𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖒𝖆𝖈𝖆𝖇𝖗𝖊 #1 1993

𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖙𝖚𝖆𝖗𝖞 𝖉𝖗𝖆𝖕𝖊

𝖙𝖍𝖞 𝖘𝖊𝖗𝖕𝖊𝖓𝖙

𝖉𝖆𝖗𝖐 𝖋𝖚𝖓𝖊𝖗𝖆𝖑

𝖌𝖔𝖗𝖌𝖔𝖗𝖔𝖙𝖍

𝖙𝖍𝖊 𝖔𝖆𝖙𝖍 #2 1994

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖘𝖊𝖈𝖙𝖎𝖔𝖓

𝖉𝖗𝖔𝖜𝖓𝖊𝖉 𝖒𝖆𝖌𝖆𝖟𝖎𝖓𝖊 #2 1991

if anyone cares enough to ask, i can post the interviews i found interesting from these zines

these posts are literally the only ones that gain traction on this god forsaken blog

[strawhatdyke]

One Piece Magazine

[harumirart]

Behold

My creepypasta boyfriend from when I was 11 years old.

[philshotcocoa]

So much enrichment in the enclosure today I feel like a plant getting watered

[mam-te-moc]

New Frozen Magazine, special edition with a comic "Where are our friends?" in which Elsa randomly invites her sister & co for a picnic and to pick up berries and Olaf, Bruni (still she) and Sven get lost at some point.

[hella1975]

there must be more than blood by car seat headrest is a touya song btw. nervous like a wild dog waiting for the attack. you go back to the old house but you've been locked out and it wasn't for love that you went back home. they had all of your life to get it right they had all of that time just to change their minds. how could they treat you like a forgotten card? dear dad, I'm sorry thank you very much. what difference does it make when they throw you away?

this is like 9/11 to me

[sunburnacoustic]

Being in space in a spacesuit that provides you with endless food, water and air. Then being propelled away from Earth. So over the years it gradually gets smaller and smaller until you were completely alone in space for the rest of your life.

—Matt Bellamy in Q Magazine, 2001

"What's your idea of hell?"

[instantpansies]

formal literary analysis is just fanfic for nerds

[musicmags]

[ronanziriano]

Illustration for Five Novels Monthly, vol. 51 no. 1, April 1940. Published by Dell Publishing, cover art by George Rosen.

Cover edit:

[totallynotagremlin]

The magazine cutouts have moved into attack position

They are trying to corner the midnight art into submission so they can conquer their territory

However the midnight art stands their ground, ready for anything

[sweetdreamsjeff]

 IN A SAD STATE OF GRACE

DROWNING CLAIMS SINGER JEFF BUCKLEY AND STILLS ONE OF FOLK ROCK'S MOST PROMISING YOUNG VOICES

By David E. Thigpen 

Monday, June 16, 1997

When he decided to escape the muggy Memphis heat with a quick plunge into the Wolf River, singer Jeff Buckley had every reason to feel buoyed by good fortune. At 30 he was signed to Columbia Records--the home of Bob Dylan and Miles Davis--and had just settled into a cozy old house in town to begin recording a follow-up to Grace, his powerful 1994 debut. That album, a darkly romantic and stunningly original blend of folk, blues and alternative rock, had earned Buckley a reputation as a superstar in the making, much as Greetings from Asbury Park did for Bruce Springsteen in 1973. Buckley's rise was tinged with poignancy. Success promised to lift him at last out of the haunting shadow of his father, the brilliant folk singer Tim Buckley, who died of a heroin overdose in 1975 at age 28.

But on the evening of May 29, after driving to the Memphis marina with a member of his road crew, Jeff inexplicably waded, fully clothed, into the muddy river. As the roadie watched from the riverbank, Buckley swam far out. When the wake of a passing boat splashed ashore, the roadie turned away for a moment to move Buckley's guitar and radio to safety. When he looked up again, Buckley had disappeared. He never came back up. After six days of searching, police last week pulled his body from the water near Beale Street, Memphis' music row.

News of the accidental drowning unleashed an outburst of grief that attested not just to the tragedy of a young man's life cut short but also to the uncommon force of his music. In the hours after his disappearance, fans from around the world--Canada, Australia, the Netherlands and even Singapore--inundated his record label with worried messages. In New York City's Greenwich Village, Buckley's home turf, scores of fans brought candles and flowers to Cafe Sin-e, the former coffeehouse where he first drew crowds with his spiraling voice and captivating intensity. "His music was so beautiful it made the hair on your neck stand on end," said a weeping fan. "He was special," said Columbia Records president Don Ienner. "We saw the future in Jeff."

That Buckley's life ended in awful symmetry with his father's was a painful irony. The younger Buckley had long struggled to escape the label of "Tim's son." He had met his father only once, at age 8. Tim Buckley left home the year his son was born, a fact that may have fueled the melancholy, beauty and despair that swirled within Jeff's songs. In one of his own final acts of grace, Buckley said to a close friend, "Remember that I forgive my father, and I just have to move on." He seemed to be doing just that when he was pulled under.

--By David E. Thigpen

[sunlightfeeling]

before there were Insta/Twitter fanpages…

btw depending on the rate, that’s somewhere in the $3700 to $4700 range

[oratokyosaigunda]

Dessert cover 2024年8月 issue

[successfulblackparenting]

Protecting Our Children: Addressing the Drowning Risk for African American Youth

Drowning remains a critical and preventable cause of death among children, with African American youth facing particularly high risks. This article delves into the alarming statistics, historical context, and crucial safety measures that can help protect Black children from drowning. Additionally, we highlight the hidden dangers of blue bathing suits and provide actionable tips for parents to…

[s0dium]

Needy

Pervert!Yuuta x Reader

Synopsis: Yuuta has avoided the touch of women for years due to having a homicidal jealous curse attached to him. Hell, he has even avoided touching himself. But something happens that makes him break

Warning: Male masturbation, pillow humping, edging, mentions of breeding, pining

Pt.2

~

Having a homicidal jealous curse attached to you 24/7 that threatens to murder any woman that comes close to you, changes a man.

In Yuuta's case that meant that sex was out of the question. In fact, everything involving the slightest bit of physical intimacy was out of the question. Handshake? Yuuta would rather not risk it. Hugging? Sure if you wanted to get your head chopped off. Even when Yuuta joined Jujutsu High and became able to control Rika better, his ways of avoiding women had already been so ingrained into him, that any kind of intimacy was just foreign to him.

This didn't mean the Yuuta didn't think about it. He even indulged in the small things, like replaying the sex scene in a movie or eying the women in Todo's magazines he would bring on occasion. But that wasn't enough to quell the thrumming in his head or the whisper in the back of his mind craving more. Yuuta truly thought he could ignore it all though, that is, until he met you.

At first, it was easy for him to treat you as nothing more than a friend, a classmate. He could ignore how peculiarly beautiful and kind you were. He could brush off how your witty remarks during tough missions always made him laugh, and how the light, airy giggles that escaped your mouth when Yuuta did something unintentionally funny made butterflies swarm in his stomach. Then summer rolled around, and you started wearing more revealing clothes—short skirts and tights instead of long pants, which were apparently "easier to train in" you told him.

And it was only when you innocently bent over to pick something up one afternoon, when Yuuta accidentally caught a glimpse of your white underwear that dug into the fat of your plump butt, that the dam finally broke. When you turned around to bashfully apologize for accidentally flashing him, Yuuta was already gone. Unbeknownst to you, he had fled to his dorm room, struggling to hide his painfully hard dick in his pants.

Yuuta barely makes it to his bed before he is pulling down his black uniform pants and wrapping a shaky hand around his thick cock. He's not an idiot, he knows how to jack off, but there is something different right now. When in the past the few times he touched himself was to quickly get rid of arousal, now Yuuta finds himself yearning for something more.

He slowly drags his hand down his shaft and the satisfaction is immediate: just one stroke sent electric flesh arrows of pleasure through his entire body. The pleasure is mind-numbing, and just a taste of it has him yearning for more.

“Oh fuh-“ Yuuta's voice comes out breathless. He screws his eyes shut and darts a tongue across his lips to wet them. Almost immediately his mind wonders back to you, how delicious your ass looked, how beautiful you are, how beautiful you would be with your lips wrapped around his dick. How would your breasts feel in his palm? What would your face look like if he tweaked and sucked on your nipples? God, what would your pussy feel like.

Pap pap. Yuuta was starting to create a semi fast rhythm, white precum collecting in the spaces of his fingers as he furiously glided his tight grip up and down his dick. He doesn't just want to think about you; he wants to obsess over you. He doesn't just want to feel pleasure; he wants to drown in it. No, he wants to drown in you.

He's practically panting right now imaging himself inside you. If he felt good right now, how good would the real thing be? Oh he bet the squeeze around his dick would be delicious, he can practically hear you whining his name. Yuuta's legs trembled as his hand gilded over his overstimulated red tip and down to his heavy balls. Jesus this was good, so good, he needed more, Yuuta needed more friction because god if he couldn't have your pussy right now he at least needed to pretend.

Through heavy pleasure-filled lidded eyes, he glanced to the pillow next time him.

He was becoming greedy.

Fuck it.

Without much of a thought, Yuuta grabbed the pillow, folded it in half, laid on his side, hastily put his dick between the white cloth, and started to thrust. The friction is delicious. It makes his toes curl and desperately thrusts his hips into the soft pillow.

“Mmmm,  mmm mhm” he whimpers. Your name is on the tip of his tongue, but he can barely speak so much as think. There’s a tingly warm feeling building in his stomach, the pleasure is overtaking him. What would you think if you could see him like this? Would you call him a pervert or maybe would you help him? Oh, what a dream that would be, your soft hands wrapped around him, oh he bet that you could make him feel better than this pillow ever could.

“Ah-Ah Y/n please….” The thought of you is consuming him, you don’t know it but you are giving him the best pleasure he has ever experienced in his life. Yuutas thrusts are becoming frantic, desperate, he could taste his release on the tip of his tongue. His black hair is starting to stick to his forehead from the sweat and he realized he should have taken off his white uniform coat because it was getting so hot. He was so close, so close to cumming, he hates how this pillow isnt you, isn't your pussy, after this, he promises to himself that he won't ignore you or your beauty anymore, he’ll obsess over you, kiss the ground you walk on, he’ll take care of you so good and -and oh, oh my god, he wants to breed you, fill you with cum-

“Ah-ahhh~”

Yuuta’s hips stutter into the pillow and thick ropes of cum coat the fabric. The pleasure makes his legs and mind go numb and he’s left panting, whimpering from the after shocks.

No, after this Yuuta will never avoid you again.