#the end is the beginning is the end

[mortifiedandawesome]

Smashing Pumpkins - The End is the Beginning is the End

[eye-of-the-purricane]

Billy Corgan discussing the Batman + Robin soundtrack

@ Madame Zuzu’s 02/06/2022

[ashrayus]

absolutely lost it over this fic by @neuro-psyche so. have this comic o(- (

go read it rn if u also love some Good identity reveal fic!!!!

[martyfive]

a sword to forge, a cross to carry, a lucky star to share

[aspiringwarriorlibrarian]

The fact that Tiktok is already calling him "President Trump" even though he hasn't been fucking inaugurated yet has made clear who its new owners are and what agenda they'll be pushing even though he spearheaded the fucking ban in the first place.

Anyway get prepared for Tiktok to veer VERY far right into Trump cultism. Hopefully we'll find a tiktok clone that isn't official state media, be it American or Chinese.

[drdisasterarts]

stardust to stardust // inspiration -> "The Kiss" by Gustav Klimt

edit: reblogs r appreciated plsplspls😖💕‼️

[thesunoficaruss]

season one of supernatual is so funny to me. sam and dean will literally show up to the crime scene in some fuck ass flannels and dean is in his leather jacket and the cops are like "who the hell are you?" and dean will be like "oh, us? well we are obviously from the us fish and wildlife service who else could we possibly be???" 

meanwhile theyre in the craziest outfits known to mankind with no badge or anything, so the cops will ask for their IDs and they'll hand them the most unconvincing fake id you'll ever see. the thing will be crumpled to no return and look like it was all hand written by a toddler and SOMEHOW THE COPS STILL BELIEVE THEM??

and then, they'll start questioning the victims family like "aw man :( I'm so sad for you :( that must be really hard :( so like what happened? and on a completely separate note, did you see anything? feel a temp drop? did you feel a cold spot? did you see something weird? like a creature mayhaps? like a ghost? did you see a ghost? do you believe in ghosts? please tell me it's a ghost?" like that's a totally normal line of questioning for a random drowning from two members of the us fish and wildlife service.

[wildflowercryptid]

underappreciated marcille bit : her being a gay lil hater and glaring at toshiro whenever he gets flustered over falin

[estramor]

not the guy who saved your life yet, but i will be.

[mortifiedandawesome]

The Smashing Pumpkins - The End Is the Beginning Is the End (Lyrics)

[lapetitemxrt]

Moment of truth — what is your least favorite aspect of your position?

"It's difficult to say, Sir." I was surprised by her candor, she had taken more care with such inquiries in the past. It always felt as if a small barrier, built by the strange juxtaposition of our ages and our roles to one another, had been there and now suddenly dissipated.

I was familiar, by then, with her fathers tendency to blow past boundaries as if they were nothing more than smoke, asking deeply personal or potentially incriminating questions about my life and my desires and what I was doing on my (very limited) time off. They would be asked as easily as asking about the weather, throwing the wrathful teen i was out of balance.

Her breech felt different. I was also familiar with her inability to be anything less than the person with the most integrity (pardon the pun) in any room she occupies. I knew her question came from a place of deep care, a bond we forged through grief and service to the Hellsing name. I knew my near betrayal of her, and all of my life weighed heavily on her. Not because she didn't trust me, which would have been bearable. No, Integra Hellsing never put blame on anyone other than herself when it comes to what is most important to her. She's wondering, subtly and without expression other than her usual calm blue gaze, what she did wrong. That's a simplification of her thought process, but in the end, she blames herself. As she does for far too much.

Realizing I was lost in thought, I drew into a smile as I refocused. "I have had many positions over the years, and eventually, they all became part of one another." I took my time here, viewing the answer as critical to the continuation of a semblance of our former relationship even if she didn't. I wanted her to know how sorry I was that she had nearly had to pay for the sins of her father at my hands. We never spoke quite that candidly, however.

"I take pride in my position, Sir Hellsing. The trials of being what I am to the organization are nothing in comparison to the positive impact Hellsing has had on the world in recent years." She would likely think I meant since the Millennium War, her constant rebuilding of London and our extermination of left behind FREAK vampires. Really though, I meant since she had taken over at the time of her fathers untimely death. While I was technically the interrim head of Hellsing until she became of age, I had never kept her from a round table meeting or from making a decision. Maybe some part of me knew I would need someone like her to pull my head out of my ass. Pardon the profanity.

"My only true complaints lie with factors beyond our control, and even then, we always adapt, Sir." I inclined my head, my usual indication I was done answering her question.

I briefly glanced at her cooling cup of tea from my place standing near her, noting the need for a refill.

[fluentisonus]

the thing is I am still thinking about that bit in conclave right before they're about to vote when the breath of wind & birdsong comes in through the window that had recently been violently blown in to let the light and air into what has til then been a suffocatingly still & sterile & dark & enclosed environment & it ruffles all the pages on the desks & they all pause and look up. like oh god is there

[emotionally-destroyed-soldier]

A burst of cacaphony fading into a long, droning hum. That was it, then. For better or worse, the line was closed and Jane had the heavy feeling in his chest that it wouldn't open again, at least not as a timeless conduit. His breath caught, a sharp 'huck' sound. He nuzzled his face against the dead receiver, no comfort coming forth. Just an emotionless, cold tone. It felt like it was made of lead as he placed it back on the cradle, the soft 'click' of the pegs being depressed sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn't felt like this in months. He'd forgotten how devastatingly alone he'd felt. The drought of conversation. No kind word or gentle touch. You're a damn fool. The voice came from the bathroom. The mirror was still broken, sharp shards of various sizes still clinging stubbornly to the frame. He saw fragments in the fragments. Sharp, snarling teeth. Cold, piercing eye. The corner of a sneering lip. A reflection. A refraction. I told you before to shit or get off the pot. Now you're in even deeper now. You stupid, no-good maggot, what have you done? In the long run, what the fuck have you done? Oui, what have you done? Nothing. You have done nothing. You will change nothing. You will be left. With. Nothing. The shadows smoked. The faintest shilouette of a skeletal husk, grinning involuntarily at him in the dark. Go on. Wait for the doctor. Wait until you grow old and waste away in this room. Because he will die. The boy will die. Everyone will die and this will all be the same as it ever was. Powerless to a thing as worthless as you to change. And it'll be like that until you stop being a fucking coward and do what you should've done years ago. Jane left the bathroom and walked back out to the main office, picking up his shotgun. Dazedly, almost, he tested the weight. Familiar. It'd been an extention of his arm in this war and the last. He knew what it could do. He held it vertical. The steel was cold under his chin. That's it. Do it. Pull the trigger. It's what you deserve. 'i'll wait for you as long as it takes. i promise.' NO. Jane jerked the muzzle of the shotgun away from his chin, pushing the firearm across the room hard. It spun across the floor like a macabre spin the bottle before slowing to a stop, the business end facing the wall. The thing in the mirror and the thing in the corner were gone. Silent. Jane breathed in, pulled himself to his feet, walked over to the couch, and sat down, hands folded in his lap. He would wait for Fritz as long as it took.

[deadpoets]

DEAD POETS SOCIETY (1989) dir. Peter Weir

[side-of-honey]

Hi my undertale yellow followers sorry for not posting in 5 years. Woe my dumb doodles be upon ye

Based mostly on uty ost comments I thought were funny + some ut red&yellow for fun :)