#if i just dropped dead.

[gayrudeboys]

yesterday i was ringing up an old man at work and he asked if i wanted to see his pride and joy, pulled out his wallet, and in the place where you’d keep a picture of like your family he had this

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Springtrap's first night in Dead by daylight..

[ruporas]

need to exist in your warmth (id in alt)

[rye-satchel]

.

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[sweetlullabyebye]

Made way too many posts about jealous Charles so here is Charles actually smiling for a change

[pa-pa-plasma]

love fics where Danny ends up in the DC universe & every alarm goes off at once & the magic users are like "yeah that's the most powerful being in the universe & also possibly super evil we are FUCKED fucked" & the Justice League is freaking tf out trying to find this thing that casually tore a hole in reality & it just cuts to Danny (Fenton) standing in the background blissfully unaware & like "man my life sucks but at least i have this candy bar��" *drops it in a puddle*

[glowsticcc]

there is an upsettingly small amount of pissa outfit swap content and i won’t stand for it any longer

[edorazzi]

Finally - page 1 of my Miraculous Mentor AU webcomic A Matter of Trust! I'm so excited to finally start releasing this monster project! ( ♡ᗜ♡)

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[wyrmswears]

more of this fuckass idea (jay-centric doodles this time)

a couple people said they were thinking about making fanwork based off of the purgatory administration idea.. if anyone does please please please tag me 👁👁

[blossoms-phan]

[suja-janee]

Bireena request: 2/5 (request from anonymous)

Uhh slight boobie warning under the cut vvv

The titan versions get along a little TOO well hehehehehehehhehehe

[fanaticalthings]

Jason only resorts to his emergency signal when he's 0.1 seconds away from death and only when he's 100% reaching raw desperation levels of survival

BUT he also uses it when he's faced with the most mild of inconveniences, so the batfam are always stressed when they get his panic signal because is he about to fucking die or was he just locked out of the family Netflix account?

And obviously they can't take ANY chances, so it's always a 50/50 on whether the night ends with the fam huddled in the medbay of the cave, or whether all of them are fully costumed, weapons sharpened and ready to throw hands in Jason's apartment and Jason's just casually lounging on his couch like "Oh hey guys, I'm out of flour, can one of you run to get some?" with the most annoying shit-eating grin you've ever seen.

[wordsinhaled]

it was really only a matter of time until edwardian payneland happened and what if i channeled maurice about it. just a little

-

Charles is the son of the groundskeeper at St. Hilarion's School for Boys while Edwin is a pupil there. And he can't help but notice Edwin—how he’s nearly always alone, or else being harangued by the cruel older boys who call themselves his peers.

Charles privately thinks they hardly seem equal to him in poise or grace or manner. They are boisterous, brash, crass, violent, all overlaid with a veneer of false propriety, but Charles can see the cracks in it. He knows that sort by how they are inside, and they cannot be like Edwin at all. No, Edwin Paine's got a sad, drawn sort of look about him that Charles can't help recognizing. This lonely boy who feels somehow kindred in a way he can't put a finger on, but is pulled to him all the same, though by rights he'd do better to keep his distance.

Edwin often sits by the lake by himself, to read, or to do his assignments in the shade of the trees. Picturesque as a painting, he is. One day Charles dares to approach him, though he knows the risk in it—prepared to be rebuffed, rebuked for his untoward attention to someone he is meant to ignore; but the boy does not turn him away.

And so they become friends. Tentative, and then less and less so.

Together they explore the school's sprawling grounds, all of whose surprising hiding-places Charles Rowland knows by heart, having wandered them himself for years and made them his own refuge. The woods become theirs; the shore by the lake theirs; the shade of the trees theirs. The attic, where no one comes to look for them in the dead of night, also theirs.

And then one day Charles notices a group of boys surrounding Edwin. The usual cadre, and they're posturing, their voices loud in the autumn air. They’ve ripped Edwin's penny magazine from his grip and are tearing pages out of it, scattering them to be plucked up by the wind. Charles can do nothing else but step in. He shouts at them to back off, puts himself between them and Edwin, and gets himself thrashed for his trouble—but they, at least, finally leave Edwin alone.

Edwin, for his part, cannot believe Charles would be so reckless for his sake. Charles has not yet mentioned to him that he is used to this sort of treatment, and sees worse at home. They sit together in the boathouse by the lake, cross-legged, close enough for Edwin to dab carefully at Charles’ split lip and bleeding knuckles.

“You should not have done that for me,” he chides, though it carries no heat. “What will happen now?” He thinks word is sure to get back to the school, and there will be a scandal. Those boys, who so vocally despise Edwin, will hardly be quiet in their outrage, their humiliation. Charles’ father might be relieved of his post, and then Charles’ family will have to leave St. Hilarion’s. That is how these things go.

And what was it all for? For Edwin? How could it have been worth it?

“Doesn’t matter, does it?" Charles is saying, when Edwin surfaces from his troubled thoughts. "Couldn’t let them treat you like that. They had you five to one. And that, just ‘cause you’re different. I know how it is.” Charles’ eyelashes are very long, and the light turns his eyes a warm, deep amber as he talks fiercely, insistently, in defense of Edwin.

It’s terribly forward, Edwin thinks. And, despite every misgiving, he welcomes it. No one has ever fought for Edwin before. No one has ever spoken about him with such conviction.

Then Charles seems to lapse into pensiveness. “You didn’t have to…” he says softly. "All this." He gestures, with the free hand Edwin isn’t busy wrapping up, at the little bottle of antiseptic, the scissors, the roll of bandages and the cloths, all spread out on the floorboards between them.

“Of course I did,” Edwin says.

Really, he had not given it much consideration. He had had only the presence of mind to memorize the sight of Charles kneeling in the dew-damp grass, angry gaze still spitting fire at the backs of Edwin’s retreating bullies. He’d had blood in his bared teeth, and the briefest flash of desire had seared through Edwin—to kiss him. Merely in thanks, perhaps, but still, to kiss him.

He would know the warmth of Charles’ mouth. Fleeting, forbidden, it would sear itself into his mind for ever.

Of course, he had done no such thing; for he could not. Instead, he’d done the only thing he could do—bent low towards Charles, and squeezed his shoulder once, as if to say, Wait here for me. I will come back to you.

And as he'd turned on his heel and gone off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving Charles there with dusk encroaching, Edwin had hoped Charles understood his gesture for the indelible promise it was.

[lastofthe20thcenturygirls]

[generalsdiary]

drunk alhaitham who yaps about the improvements the sumeru education system should make & kaveh, also drunk, attentively listening- the literal most beautiful man in whole of sumeru, with sparkly red eyes, messy blond hair, and a soft blush across his cheeks, with his full attention on the autistic scribe. flustering alhaitham to the point he stops mid sentence, averting his eyes, "oh fuck."