#mevin

[ptxweekly]

Matt: If you came here with somebody that you love, give them a hug.

[fpsprotag-poll]

ROUND 2

[downthetubes]

In Pictures: Gerry Anderson’s Century 21 Exhibition at the Cartoon Museum

A quick tour of London Cartoon Musuem's "micro" Gerry Anderson art exhibition featuring art by Frank Bellamy and Kevin O'Neill

Following up on our earlier report on an appearance by TV, audio producer and publisher Jamie Anderson and comic artist Lee Sullivan at the Cartoon Museum next month, here’s a quick “tour” of their current “In Focus” Gerry Anderson’s Century 21 Exhibition, courtesy of Richard Sheaf. Gerry Anderson and his team, including his then wife, Sylvia, revolutionised the world of puppetry with his…

[spampai]

They’re watching National Geographic

[exbeaut]

alright i’m kms now soooo thanks

[practicedvmm13fullofpotatoes]

NO BECAUSE SOMETIMES I THINK ABOUT WHETHER OR NOT CARAMEL IS ACKNOWLEDGING THE FACT THAT HIS PARENTS DON’T EXACTLY LOVE HIM

AND NOW I JUST GOT THE BEST ANGST IDEA FOR CARAMEL EVER THAT I MIGHT JUST PUNCH MYSELF FOR WRITING IT

AND YES I SOMEHOW GOT THE PUSH I NEEDED FOR THE OBLIVIOUS CARAMEL WHO LOVES HIS PARENTS FROM THE CHARACTER.AI

I made a character AI for him because I can✨✨ No picture for it yet because I’m drawing it

[realjaysumlin]

Harold Mevin&The Blue Notes Featuring Sharron Paige&Teddy Pentergrass-Ho...

Classic performance that so many people have forgotten.

[ptxweekly]

Grammys 2024

[billiesbabygirl]

Best Riverdale Couple

Please vote for your favorite ship on Riverdale

[spampai]

When the birthday real

There's only 5 days left

until the 5-year anniversary of TETOCU, and, by extent, the day Melvinborg revealed himself to the world.

As a celebration, I call upon those who adore Melvinborg (be it simps or just fans of him in general) to redraw this screenshot from the season 1 finale (minus the robot emoji) in your artstyle and post it on July 13th (that is, 5 days from now).

I don't expect anything *perfect*, but just do your best.

(Oh and by the way, the way you can submit your entries is by reblogging this post with your submission in it!)

[downthetubes]

Perishers fan? Do not miss this auction from Adam Partridge, this weekend

Auctioneers Adam Partridge are hosting a "Timed Auction" of artwork by comic artist Bill Mevin. If you're a fan of the Daily Mirror's long-running strip "The Perishers", you do not want to miss this

Macclesfield-based auctioneers Adam Partridge are hosting a “Timed Auction” of artwork by comic artist Bill Mevin and fine artist June Bevan, ending this Sunday, 26th May. If you’re a fan of the Daily Mirror‘s long-running strip “The Perishers“, you do not want to miss this. Bill Mevin, who passed in 2019, aged 97, is perhaps best known for his work on TV Comic‘s “Doctor Who” strip and his work…

[spampai]

It’s just smol Mevin

[warrior-of-waistbands]

Is prof. Poopypants cannon to genswap AU? (and if he is, what is his relationship with Mevin?)

Oh my god..... parallel plot where Moxie and Pippy are the sole members of the science club at one of Jerome Horwitz's rival elementary schools.....

She's the only one who doesn't make fun of his name......

[crystallizedkingdoms]

we all know a dog can’t lie

Michael lies in the lap of someone who won’t look at him. A dog starts to want, as all dogs do.

wc: 1K

day 2 of cape june-o! it’s a Michael day, so of course it’s dogy time. this fic is partially inspired by the poems Dinosaur by Richard Siken and Let Dead Dogs Lie by Silas Denver Mevin. also you can read this on ao3 <3

Gentle fingers thread through Michael’s hair in long, comforting strokes. He feels how they drag through the brown locks he swears he’s gonna cut soon. They push some strands behind his ear, then drag back up to caress closer to his scalp. Michael, laying on the lap of someone he can’t remember the name of, leans into their touch.

His eyes search the person’s face, but it slips from his mind when he fails to meet their eyes. Maybe it’s the shade from the tree they sit under or the twilight that bathes their bodies. The shadow across their face sits impossibly on their skin, but Michael doesn’t question it. He just stares up at them, with wide eyes and a dumb want in his mouth.

From the way they angle their face, they’re facing directly in front of them. Not even sparing a glance at him. Michael isn't sure if they’re deliberately ignoring him. He opens his mouth to prod, but that warm hand nestles back into his hair, and the words die on his lips. Then those fingers comb the words out of him, and he’s left staring up at an imperceivable face 

But the want is still there. Perpetual and unending. Michael thinks about reaching out to satisfy that want. Those soft strokes and invisible eyes beckon him more than any treat could ever. He reaches up to their impossible face, to the hair that blows in the muggy wind— he thinks it might be red, but it seems more a dull grey most of the time— and tries to touch them. 

Suddenly, the fingers tighten on Michael’s brown hair. Their nails scrape against his scalp for a second, until they’ve balled a fist in his hair. “Stop.” Their voice is harsh, but Michael can’t pinpoint whose voice it is. He stops anyway.

“Good,” they say. Their grip loosens, and Michael breathes a sigh of relief, but it doesn’t go back to those loving caresses. The hand remains clutching a fistful of hair, not hard enough to hurt, but enough to remind Michael that there is love being withheld. “You’re too eager sometimes, you know. You should learn to sit still sometimes, Michael.”

“Sorry,” Michael breathes out in earnest. “I just want to see you. I’m just trying to put you all back together again.”

The person laughs. It’s feminine, Michael thinks, but that thought doesn’t get very far when that grip tightens on his hair again. “You know I don’t want that,” they say. They’re still not looking at him, even as they cradle his head closer to their body by his hair. “You’re not being very obedient lately. You know that’s what I liked best about you, right?”

Michael leans into the hold to lessen the pressure on his head, exposing his neck to the person he rests on. “Look at me,” he begs, “please.”

“For what?” they ask. “You come bounding to me whether I do so or not. I say your name and you come running for me, searching for me. Always searching for every part of me that you think you can remember. It’s cute how you chase. Like you’re made for it.”

“I just need you back. Please, please, Al—”

“Hush.”

Michael’s throat is full of thick, warm pond water. He tries to speak, to yell, to cry, but not a single sound can leave his mouth. He lies in the lap of a nameless, faceless person, who won’t even grace him with the privilege of acknowledgment. And as he stares up at their indistinct face, he can almost imagine a face filled with a strange chimera of sadness and callousness.

“There you go. So you can learn to obey again. Good to know you’re still my Michael,” they say. A pause, then a sigh. They caress his hair with their same hand, but now their other hand appears to crawl up Michael’s chest. Their fingernails drag at his collarbone, until he feels them reaching up to his neck. Michael bares his teeth, but the person doesn’t seem to notice. “Michael, won’t you stop doing what you’re doing? You don’t even remember why you’re doing it. I don’t think you ever knew.”

Michael tries to squirm his body away from the hand encroaching on his throat, but the caresses keep him in place. “You don’t know what to do without someone by your side. You need eyes on you, or a Camera, or a dingy fucking forum full of nothing but the people you know. So listen to me, boy,” their voice turns into a hiss now, their nails starting to dig, “listen like you’re born to do. Stop searching. Just stay with me. Stop wanting—”

Michael twists his neck around in their soft lap and sinks his teeth into delicate flesh.

Searing blood blooms in between his sharp canines, and he fights the urge to let go when he hears the gut-wrenching scream fill his ears. He bites down harder as the hand on his hair now yanks and tears at the soft locks it once caressed. “Stop! Michael! Down, down, down!!” they yell at him, and finally, they’re looking at him. Their face is pointed down towards him, shaking right to left as they try to get his teeth off his skin, and their red hair frames features as they come into vision…

The impossibleness of their face doesn’t clear, not fully. Michael stares at it, willing it to clear, wanting to see more than the red hair and the red blood and the black frames. He wants it, he wants it more than he wants the pain to stop, and though he can’t see the features of this person’s face, he knows that they hate that want. 

“I ought to muzzle you,” they spit. Michael bites down hard one last time, and it’s enough for them to scream again. The hand in his hair drops to hit him in the face, but Michael is already kicking himself away from the lap that cradled him. There’s blood on his lips that coat his sharp canine teeth. When the blood settles on his tongue, it tastes of an old tree he used to sit under for hours. Always with someone.

Michael scrambles to his feet and runs away.

“Yeah, keep running!” he yells at Michael. “Like you always do! We all know you’ll just come back,” she screams.

Michael runs away until all he sees is his red and all he tastes is her blood.

[absentmoon]

"genius" "oh, thank you" "i meant me for making you postmaster" get me in thereGet mevin there

[ethan-the-artist-69]

Hi so I don’t do these posts like this at all but this person has or still is in Tumblr. I‘m not so sure because I had blocked him. This guy has been grooming me and Im gonna call him out and also his friend too.

I suggest you to read the TW first because these are heavy topics.

Also Im gonna use the tags for what these 2 are also into.

https://docs.google.com/document/d/13ggg2PBp_fm2FjVUBlLArghXvVlCKcl0Wwq34Ue1CZw/edit