#i choose violence today

[legendsoffodlan]

"We need more toxic women in media!"

Ya'll couldn't handle Leonie acting like a teenager.

[aitsuheart]

My favorite dynamic are probably friends who are dating because they get to be both

The best of both worlds, a cute friendship dynamic and a cute romantic relationship

And soriku

Yeah they're that.

They are best friends, gonna say it louder for the people in the back who say "oh no a gay pairing why can't they be friends"

But they're also dating

[jackripper1970]

[yeowangies]

Some of you should free yourself from the man=top/dom and woman=bottom/sub ecuation and maybe you'll see there's more enjoyable forms of sex than dick in hole

[ijustthinkhesneat]

Gonna get high and throw rocks at anyone who employs late stage gen z/gen alpha slang. Call that Rosetta Stoned.

[kilatoradesign]

Tora chooses violence 💀

This was one of my 2023 drawtober art.

✨SHOP: kilatoradesign.com

[pinkcrownkitty]

[tenebris-lux]

I disagree that Harker is the main character of Dracula. This ain’t all about him. Mina had equal significance, and was the heart of the group. There’s fair argument that she’s the main character. Even so, it isn’t all about her either. It isn’t about any one of them, because they were all affected by the character the book was named after, the character who was the cause of everybody’s pain and horror. It’s about him. He’s a presence even when he’s not onscreen.

There’s no shame in adoring one’s blorbo. It’s not unusual that they become the central figure in one’s mind when the topic they’re attached to comes up. But that’s strictly to the individual(s). It doesn’t mean the story is completely about them. And that shouldn’t be a big deal, but chalking up another character’s horrible traumatic experience that, yes, affected the blorbo negatively as solely ABOUT the blorbo is pretty fucked up.

[chaosgene]

HERE TO DISTURB YOUR DAYS ONCE AGAIN FOLKS

WITH

MEMES

MWEHEHEHEHHE

[gkinoki]

[lastoneout]

I've seen these five films sweep COUNTLESS themed polls, so guess what?

No "other" option. You have to pick one. Good luck.

[demapatto-art]

as beautiful as the day i lost you

[verstappenverse]

[olympain]

By so many, and so much! And by no one more than me.

[actual-changeling]

We always talk about Aziraphale discovering secrets about Crowley's fall in heaven, but have you considered the opposite?

Do you think Aziraphale ever walks through heaven's endless archives, trying to find something, anything to help stop the wheels that have been in motion for millennia? If he does, one day he might find a pile of dusted files, all of them marked with a name that is nothing more than a smudged ink blotch. He knows now that every fallen angel's name is erased like that, their identity wiped away like a fingertip drawn through wet ink; the rough evidence of their existence remains, the shape of a black hole where grace should be.

Aziraphale is alone in the stretching corridors, there is no one else around, and even if another angel were watching by chance, nothing about what he is doing is forbidden.

(He would not care if it was.)

So he opens the file and pulls out its contents, only to find himself surrounded by ink-black darkness. Electricity crackles through him, sharp but oddly familiar, and he lets out a breath he didn't know he was holding. Seemingly out of nowhere, an angel clad in white with hair like fire appears next to him. Aziraphale does not remember their name, but he would know this face even if it were wiped from his memory; the elegant features are both fragile and powerful, and so, so loved. When one of his hands reaches out on its own accord, the memory flickers as it goes straight through their face, and with a sense of broken, golden loss, he cradles it against his chest.

They are holding a flickering light within their palm, a proto-star, one of the very first designs, and with a soft blow of air from them, it takes flight. Spinning slowly, its light spreads and spreads, taking most of the darkness with it, yet even as the bleached sterility of heaven begins to shimmer through at the edges, the Starmaker's smile is bright enough to drown it out.

"You're beautiful," they whisper, their hair moving like a flame in the wind as the star expands and nears its collapse.

Aziraphale does not notice the tears flowing down his cheeks as he watches until the star goes supernova, until the Starmaker turns and takes in the glittering clouds of spacedust, their smile and eyes wide and alive, until the memory fades slowly like a dream in cruel morning light, and he is left alone with a scratched-out name and a hollow grief in his chest.