#they're both so dramatic

[nobodysdaydreams]

Nathaniel Benedict/Ledroptha Curtain (TMBS) and Count Olaf (ASOUE) are proof that mentally unstable former theater kids with sad backstories make the most entertaining villains, especially when their main adversaries are genius children they lose to every episode. And one of them is canonically a literal toddler/baby.

[maxwelljacobfriedman]

[fizzarollitm]

💋 angel @bringsin

" Oooh— with Angel Dust himself ? " Giggling, Fizzarolli inched himself tall enough to reach the sinner's lips. Then with a laugh, he swung him down into a back breaking dip, one hand sliding down to hold him up by the hips. He kissed him with a jingle of his hat flipping over offering some privacy as he dragged his teeth over his bottom lip.

Kisses claimed ; 1/5

[ohbeauregard]

You take a moment to take stock of where she resides within your essence. She can only see what you want her to see.

[bakudekublogblog]

katsuki has to be quiet and stay calm to keep control of his heart problems.... control your heart.... CONTROL YOUR HEART PART TWO??? hori you're so brilliant

[takkyb1]

Aziraphale had a bad dream last night…

[psalmsofpsychosis]

The Average Alfred Pennyworth Portrayal: *is Bruce Wayne's capable and somewhat cryptic butler*

Gotham!Alfred Pennyworth: *threatens an 11 years old boy to eat his dinner proper because if he doesn't he'll be too light in weight by the morning and the Balloonman will come for him and will tie him to a balloon and send him to the skies to die because he's rich and corrupt and forever guilty*

[corvigae]

On my Wyllstarion run and this is my first time seeing the new Wyll kisses since Patch 6 and the fucking NECK KISS on Astarion in particular??? Screaming crying throwing up climbing up the walls scratching at the bars of my enclosure I am unwell over these two

The only way it could be better is if it were on the same side as his bite scars so I could pretend Wyll was kissing them tenderly (eh who am I kidding, I'm gonna pretend that anyways)

[beanghostprincess]

Love how Zolu and Sanuso are both extremely poetic in their own ways. Because Zoro and Luffy could say "I'd go to hell and back for you. I would crave your name on my skin with my blades only for the universe to know I'm yours. I'd scream your name so loud so the Gods know I worship you as such. If my last breath is used for your will and honor, I'll die happily. I want to consume every part of you and live within your heart and soul" but Sanji and Usopp would also say "You're the stars I can't reach and the sea I want to drown in. You're so close yet so far away my heart aches with yearning. I stare at you from across the ship waiting and longing and hoping for you to let me in. We're the same, yet so different. I'll do what you can't do, and you'll do what I can't. You say you're nothing but you're everything to me. Every dream. Every hope. Every sigh. I'd give up the entire love of thousands for only a bit of yours" and I think it's really nice <3

[katabay]

trains :)

this is a very rough and scribbly comic, but sometimes that's all a comic is going to end up being lmao. the guy with the jacket is darren, glasses is andy. not featured, andy's dead brother who nevertheless insists on haunting the subtext

the main thing I wanted to draw was the train tho

bsky ⭐ pixiv ⭐ pillowfort ⭐ cohost ⭐ cara.app

[silverwhittlingknife]

"the fault, dear Brutus -" (Julius Caesar)

Quotes from A Critical History of English Literature by David Daiches. Panels from Death in the Family, Under the Red Hood, Lost Days, and Batman and Robin.

[selemina]

Unspoken words. Mean gills my beloved! :D

[ruvviks]

PLEASE DO NOT TAG AS YOUR OWN OC OR PAIRING.

Nathan and Ruben share a bond more powerful than most; mutual understanding through past experiences no one should ever have to go through, and through past actions so horrible they cannot be spoken of. Their grief and the blood on their hands binds them to the STEM technology they created, which has alienated them from the rest of the world— but they give each other the comfort they have both longed for so desperately for years, and that is all they need. They are each other's counterpart; you cannot imagine one without the other, like two sides of the same coin. Through their pain, their grief, their desire, and their regret, they have become one.

anna akhmatova, the guest // bones; equinox // 'i won't become' by kim jakobsson // agustín gómez-arcos, the carnivorous lamb // by oxy // achilles come down; gang of youths // czeslaw milosz, from 'new and collected poems: 1931-2001' // 'extended ambience portrait from a resonant biostructure' and 'migraine tenfold times ten' by daniel vega // a little death; the neighbourhood // marina tsvetaeva, from 'poem of the end' // by drummnist // katie maria, winter // 'nocturne in black and gold the falling rocket' by james abbott mcneill whistler // micah nemerever, these violent delights // body language; we are fury // 'the penitent' by emil melmoth // chelsea dingman, from 'of those who can't afford to be gentle'

taglist (opt in/out)

@shellibisshe, @florbelles, @ncytiri, @hibernationsuit, @stars-of-the-heart;

@lestatlioncunt, @katsigian, @radioactiveshitstorm, @estevnys, @adelaidedrubman;

@celticwoman, @rindemption, @carlosoliveiraa, @noirapocalypto, @dickytwister;

@killerspinal, @euryalex, @ri-a-rose, @velocitic, @thedeadthree

[natelia-aldelliz]

Guys imagine, Roach died, before the creation of 141, but Soap is able to see his ghost. He was originally following Ghost around, really annoyed that he was using his death as an excuse to not get close to anyone, but when he found out Soap could see him and talk to him he started following him around instead.

And they get really close, like two peas in a pod, except they have to be discreet about it because no one else can see or hear Roach, and they'd think Soap was crazy if they saw him talking to no one.

They use that for shenanigans too: Roach will go follow someone else and report back to Soap, Gaz is genuinely starting to believe Soap has superpowers or something. It's really useful on missions as well, and Soap managed to successfully rescue team members thanks to Roach being able to move through walls and everything.

(Roach is not the only ghost Soap is able to see btw, just the only one he's talking to.)

And then Roach is witnessing his past lover trying really hard to not fall in love with Soap, and Soap trying really hard to not do anything about the love he already feels, and he has to try and convince Soap that he is dead. During that conversation he finds out that something else that keeps Soap from doing something is that he feels very confused about everything because he also has feeling for Roach.

So now Roach has to try and convince him that even if he was still alive he wouldn't have a problem with that. He's known for a while that he was polyamorous, but he hadn't really dared talking to Ghost about that because he thinks he's jealous and possessive.

And Soap is like "oh yeah, you want me to go say to Ghost 'don't worry about your dead lover that I'm not supposed to know, he's actually polyamorous and also in love with me, I know because his ghost told me!' ??? I'm sure he's gonna take that well!"

But Roach is nothing if not resourceful and he manages to put Soap in situations where he's forced to interact with Ghost, and eventually they kiss and their relationship is beginning to be something. They're not really sure what.

And Roach is sad, because he has to watch the two men he loves being in love without him, yes, but at least they're both happy, and it makes him feel a bit better. And then during a mission Ghost almost dies.

Because he was alone and Soap and Gaz were together, Roach was following Ghost this time, ready to fly to Soap in an instant if there was any problems. But there was and he didn't have time, so he instinctively grabbed the gun being pointed towards Ghost's head and moved it as the person was shooting, saving Ghost's life, giving him enough time to shoot the enemy himself.

But even as the threat is eliminated, Ghost is still looking up from where he's on the ground, staring right through him, looking shocked. No, not right through him, he realises when he moves to the side and Ghost's eyes follow him. He also realises that he grabbed the gun. He's never grabbed anything before, in all his years of being a ghost.

Then suddenly Ghost's eyes move wildly around, and he figures he disappeared from his view. He can still go through the walls, but he's kept the ability to grab stuff when he wants. It gives him a ton of new possibilities, to fuck with people and, of course, to touch Soap.

"I wish you were actually alive," Soap whispers to him, holding his hands against his face as he's falling asleep.

"What the fuck," comes Ghost's voice the next morning, waking both of them up - wait, since when could Roach sleep?

Soap doesn't understand immediately, because he's always been able to see Roach. But Ghost is standing in the door, looking straight at dead past lover.

Turns out Soap is a necromancer and he had no idea, though the whole 'I can see dead people' should probably have told him sooner that he wasn't normal... The more he wishes Roach is alive, the more he actually is. And they all end up happy and together. And Gaz is very happy to have won the bet that Soap indeed has superpowers.

The day Roach says, in a wondering voice, "I... I think I'm hungry" is the day they understand that something is really happening and he's actually coming back to life.

(Also, Soap has no control at all on his abilities, he has no idea what does what and why, he knows nothing. No one knows.)

[luzho]

(based on this post by @waterfire1848) what if: sokka and zuko befriend each other in ba sing se!! after the initial shock, they eventually trust each other and even get matching earrings! besties!!

[ID: This is a three panel comic of a conversation between Sokka in his regular outfit, and Zuko as the Blue Spirit, both drawn in warm colors during a sunset. The first panel is a panoramic view of the two sitting on top of a roof in the Ba Sing Se skyline, surrounded by artificial lights. In the second panel, Sokka attentively watches a serious Zuko saying: “Halloween is so stupid. Dressing up, pretending to be someone you’re not...”. In the third panel, Sokka grabs at Zuko’s shoulder with one hand and gestures wildly with another, telling him: “You are the Blue Spirit!”; to which, he only looks away embarrassed and softly responds: “I know...”. End ID]

[rockingrobin69]

Numbly

“I've been informed,” Harry Potter burst through the door with his habitual earth-quake of a shout, “that you don’t even like peppers!”

“Good morning,” Draco said dryly. Harry Potter glared.

With a sigh, Draco retreated to the kitchen to fetch the biscuits from the cupboard.

Around his third one, an insistent crumb hanging to his upper lip with all its tiny might: “Peppers, Malfoy!”

“Pardon?”

“Peppers!”

Draco blinked. “If you’ll be so kind as to tell me what on earth you’re on about.”

“Pansy said you hate them!”

He looked absolutely outraged. Draco sipped his long-cold tea.

“Do I?”

“She said you’re allergic!”

“Am I?”

“Stop—fucking with me.”

“Oh, I wouldn’t dare.” But the corner of his lips was twitching. “I’m not allergic. I was simply a horribly dramatic child and she still naïve back when we were, what, six. Seven. I’m fine with peppers now.”

Harry Potter pouted, terribly chipmunk-ish, and even put the biscuit pack down. Down to business. “I cooked the—bloody hell, Malfoy, just, honestly. Why wouldn’t you say? That you hate peppers. I would’ve made something else. I would have happily—why?”

Utterly bemused, “I am. Honest, I mean. I don’t mind peppers anymore.”

“That’s a fucking lie and we both know it.”

Grasping at straws and failing, at least managing to stop the wobble of his stupid mouth, the automatic turning downwards. Went for his cup instead. The tea was ice-cold and flavourless and Draco poured it down his throat like it could cure him.

“Your hair’s a mess,” he then said, venomous, and turned his eyes back to the wall, where they refused to stay. It was always like this when Harry Potter barged into his flat. Even the water stains on the ceiling lost their usual allure and could not hold his attention. “If it’s raining, cast a bloody Impervious. Or take an umbrella.”

Harry Potter took a deep breath instead, sounding awfully, weirdly small. Some of the tension bled out of him in increments, his shoulders first, then the fists unclenching, then his belly un-hardening. His jaw was last. Draco was helplessly mesmerised by the transformation.

“You’re impossible,” but his voice finally not straining, his fingers not twitching towards the biscuits. No longer needing the obvious distraction. “Next time, if I make something you dislike, you have to tell me.”

“An order,” Draco huffed. “How sweet.”

Harry Potter could blush all the way to the roots of his hair. It was such a stunning, breath-stealing wonder to witness.

“It’s not a… fuck you.”

“Hmm.”

They sat there in strangely amicable silence. The oven still gave that choking, desperate cough every ten seconds, and it set a nice framework for their breathing, for the non-fidgeting. Harry Potter was always fidgety, but not when he sat in Draco’s kitchen like this.

“What’s your schedule? For today. Nev said you’re doing overtime again.” Leaning back, giving Draco that look all his friends liked to wear, the one on the border of a telling-off. It didn’t usually work on him, but Harry Potter had a slight edge to his disappointment that made Draco’s skin crawl.

“Not—exactly. Shouldn’t be so late. I’ll be home for bedtime, Mother, I promise.”

Even his mother didn’t glare like that. “Third time this week? I kind of want to strangle your boss.”

“Ha. I should inform you that violence is usually frowned upon in the workplace.”

He didn’t smile, but he came near it. Draco could tell, because the corners of his eyes were dancing. “Does it count if it's not my workplace?”

“Mm. Fair enough. Strangle away.”   

Now he was smiling. “When d’you start? Want a ride?”

And Draco was so grateful he didn’t launch yet another tirade about how Draco should quit that he said, “Why not.” (Only because he was distracted and rather tired, and not because sitting behind Harry Potter on his motorbike was in itself half-punishment, and not because clinging to his waist on tight turns at far-too-quick was—anything at all). On the downside, it made Harry Potter practically beam, and Draco still needed his eyes.

“Great! I mean. That’s good. That you won’t be late. Bad for your, er, record, and stuff, and you might not get a—bonus or something.”

They didn’t do bonuses at McMillan & McMillan, but that was neither here nor there. Draco nodded, pushed himself up on not so flimsy legs, collected his coat from where it was crumpled on the back of a chair.

“What about lunch?”

“Hmm?”

“You didn’t take. Any lunch.”

Why was he so obsessed with food? It was dangerously endearing. “I have an apple in my bag. Come now, you promised I won’t be late.”

“An—” Harry Potter shook his head, loosening even more curls out of his bun. They were rain-flat and miserable and still entirely too sweet. “I’ll buy you a sandwich at that poor excuse for a cafeteria you got there. And so help me god, Malfoy, you’ll eat it, or—”

“All right,” both hands up, “no need to shout. Your wish is my command, etcetera.”

He pouted so hard it was almost comical. But there was something still wounded there, so Draco added, “As long as there’s peppers, you know,” and then he was fuming again, bouncing on the balls of his feet and ready to deliver yet-another lecture. Draco watched him, amused, and forgot to lock the door behind him, and forgot his scarf.

Did remember his umbrella, which he Leviosa-ed to follow the Death Machine, stuck it against the silly jacket's back when they reached the office. It wasn’t raining anymore, thankfully allowing Draco to arrive not wet-dog for a change, and it made absolutely no difference.

Harry Potter took off his helmet to watch Draco enter the building. Didn’t follow him inside (wise, to prevent a murder), and so Draco completely forgot about the sandwich threat until it was roughly lunchtime. At which point, a drawer in his desk suddenly jumped open, and a far-too-fancy £12 bready tower appeared. On it a note that scrawled pepper-free, git.

Harry Potter had a lot to answer for. Draco, distracted, chipped away at the sandwich all the same, and was only shouted at twice, and didn’t even spill coffee on his keyboard.

‘Not exactly overtime’ at the office meant staying after everyone else to take note of stock and arrange all the impossible paperwork. That Draco was given this task was already hilarious, and always a disaster: that his boss insisted on continuing to give it to him, possibly commendable. Maybe he thought Draco was being stubborn. Maybe he thought, nobody could really be this bad without actively trying. Well, he didn’t know Draco yet! There was always time to learn.

Stock was stocked. The backroom was stuffy and still smelling slightly of smoke (not Draco’s fault, probably), the sweet dusty smell of paperwork going to rot. It made his head spin, not unpleasantly, made him inhale a little brokenly and laugh to himself. The sandwich from all the way back lunch sat heavy in his belly, sweating. Everything was so incredibly laughable.

When he finally finished (after only forgetting three steps in the protocol), the sun had long set and the streetlights were humming. Not worrying, Draco thought, going back to the office (forgot his bag). Not worrying at all (back to the office, to check he locked the door). (Why would anyone give him the keys?) (Some disasters were just asking to happen).

On his way home he stopped by the corner shop for another pack of biscuits. Some disasters, sure, but that didn’t mean he couldn’t prepare in advance. Harry Potter would surge in soon enough with another grievance. Draco was giddy by nature, and so the shakiness was not necessarily to do with this.

To the crescent moon drowning in cloud he wondered, do I hate peppers?

Couldn’t remember to decide by the time he made it back.