#songs users

[wieqo]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀๑⠀ ⠀🈺⠀ ⠀𝆹 ॱ

bonfire: buofire

seasons: seasnso

purple flake: purpflke

ocean floor: oceafloo

homesick: hmeosick

summer flows: sumflws

nouvelle vague: nouvllvg

dried flower: drieflwer

⠀ ⠀wvtoear⠀ ⠀wveteart⠀ ⠀wvtiearth

[gaecoo]

f1rstime whoo_we_are anythngbut

myfrancescaa sonoffnyx abstsract

eatyourng allthingseend _firstliight

[muadweeb]

sometimes i love asoiaf twitter

[narliee]

so maybe take me into your room without you my soul is eternally doomed

[incognitopolls]

We ask your questions so you don’t have to! Submit your questions to have them posted anonymously as polls.

[rhaegars-cervix]

estrogen COULD have saved her (finished this)

[whitesunlars]

the malewife to her girlboss

[cookies-in-chees]

Ok I get that you should not make fun of people interpretation of characters and that character playlist are not that deep but whoever put a god damn Taylor swift song on a spiderpunk playlist should never be allowed near spotify ever again

[sandflakedraws]

For your Trolls art inspo, have you heard the song Angel Baby? It's by Troye Sivan, the same person who voices Floyd. It's amazing and I think you might find some inspiration from it.

I HAD NOT UNTIL I READ THIS and u were correct i immediately had to draw some relevant lines. this was supposed to be a doodle, but u know what, i feel like a proper out-n-out trolls serenade is due!!!

and of course the rest of the lyrics were kind of ironic in full context ahaha.

[kyurochurro]

caught a cold yesterday so I rewatched a good old childhood fav of mine, which also included another robot buddy I love! here’s data with wall-e cus why not :D

[theonsource]

There was no safe anchorage at Pyke, but Theon Greyjoy wished to look on his father’s castle from the sea, to see it as he had seen it last, ten years before, when Robert Baratheon’s war galley had borne him away to be a ward of Eddard Stark. On that day he had stood beside the rail, listening to the stroke of the oars and the pounding of the master’s drum while he watched Pyke dwindle in the distance. Now he wanted to see it grow larger, to rise from the sea before him… Above the Sea Tower snapped his father’s banner. The Myraham was too far off for Theon to see more than the cloth itself, but he knew the device it bore: the golden kraken of House Greyjoy, arms writhing and reaching against a black field. The banner streamed from an iron mast, shivering and twisting as the wind gusted, like a bird struggling to take flight. And here at least the direwolf of Stark did not fly above, casting its shadow down upon the Greyjoy kraken. Theon had never seen a more stirring sight. ~ A Clash of Kings, Theon I

TWO WEEKS OF THEON ↳ Home

[wieqo]

⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀⠀ ⠀๑⠀ ⠀🈞⠀ ⠀𝆹 ॱ

good graces - goodgrc

sharpest tool - shrptool

coincidence - cncidnce

bed chem - bedchmsty

dumb & poetic - dumbptic

slim pickins - slmpckis

lie to girls - lietogrsl

don't smile - dntsmle

[deconejamor]

ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ㅤ᩼❥ㅤㅤㅤ𝐔𝗌𝖾𝗋𝗇𝖺𝗆𝖾𝓼 ㅤ 💄 ㅤ༄

❀ㅤㅤencartas ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❀ㅤㅤviltulips

❀ㅤㅤmusaje ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❀ㅤㅤcartalejo

❀ㅤㅤencajegata ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❀ㅤㅤauramorio

❀ㅤㅤtintalila ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❀ㅤㅤsangriario

❀ㅤㅤsuavemusa ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❀ㅤㅤdiarioflor

❀ㅤㅤvinagrior ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ ❀ㅤㅤgatafloral

❀ㅤㅤbambiecafe ㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤㅤ❀ㅤㅤencajemiu

[motorway-south]

being on rh*enicent twitter during the alicole leaks pre s2 was the funniest thing ive ever seen in my life. two hot actors fucking on screen and you would have thought these women had seen active combat. people were saying they couldn’t eat or sleep because ryan condal and fabien frankel had personally come into their homes and forced them to watching 10 seconds of pussy eating with the machine from clockwork orange

[incognitopolls]

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[gossippool]

it's after their first mission together that wade and logan share their first kiss.

the fight leading up to the time ripper took place right outside their apartment with barely any witnesses around, so the journey back home was short and quiet with no prying eyes. after that, it took a while for logan to get out of the house on the regular, but when he eventually did, it was just to walk or carry out errands, and in civilian clothes, he blended in with everyone else. it's different when they get called on a mission for the first time.

it's not a hard mission by any means, but it's brutal. he and wade subdue a dozen men on the streets, chase a final one down to the underground, and turn him over to the police. by the end of it all, the sun is going down, and people are travelling home from work. logan's suit is torn, and his bare arms are caked with dirt and dried blood.

a cab would be the typical mode of transport for them after a mission, but they're already at the station, anyway, so they decide to take the train. a busker sings at the platform with a guitar, a lulling, bittersweet thing, like the soundtrack to a life not deserving of such a melody. in the exhaustion and setting sun, it makes logan long for something he can't name. but they'll be home soon.

they board the train. he leans against one of the poles, feels the cool of the metal seep through his suit and into his spine. the music fades out, and what fades in in its place is the conversation and laughter of the others in the train car. a group of teenagers out having fun, businessmen in suits off work, older people with their grandkids or their shopping bags. wade's warmth opposite him, mask moving as he chatters.

he tries to listen, he really does, but as the train speeds through the tunnel, he feels stares turn slowly towards him from all sides. he smells their slight fear, their judgement, over the odour of him and wade. he realises all at once what he must look like, dirty and covered in blood that can't be his for his lack of open wounds. his exposed knuckles a darker red than the rest of his hands. he covers one hand with the other, unclenches his fists.

he's not one to care about what others think. not before, at least. he's used to glares of resentment and pity for what he did, eyes following him everywhere he went like the phantoms of those he killed. but these people don't know what he's done, and they stare at him all the same. it's almost worse.

for a brief moment, just a moment, he feels a stab of hopelessness. coming to this world felt like a second chance, a chance to start over without the world having to bear the knowledge of his inadequacies. but what if that isn't possible? what if this is all this world ever sees of him? the aftermath, the bloodstained hands, the aged lines of his face that tell them what they want to know. he's no one here, except when people remember him like this.

"peanut?"

wade's voice snaps him out of it, and when he looks up, wade has pulled his mask off. he's about to apologise for not listening when wade smiles slightly at him. it's enough to take the words out of his mouth. wade doesn't ask if logan's okay, but his eyes flicker almost imperceptibly over the other occupants of the train car. then he places a delicate hand on logan's waist and steps closer to him, until he can feel his breath ghosting his lips.

logan just looks up at him, breath caught in his throat. what? he thinks of asking. he doesn't.

wade's other hand trails up to cup his cheek. "let them stare," he says. "they don't know anything."

then he leans down and presses his lips to logan's. the train emerges out of the tunnel and bathes the car in golden light, and all the rest of it fades away.

wade steps back eventually, and logan wants to chase his lips, but instead watches as the shadows of his scars dance across his face with the path of the dying sun. he's so beautiful, logan thinks. he's home.

wade is right; let them stare. all he wants is to find his way home, just like everyone else. that's all anyone wants. and they're all on the same train home.