#what the fuck

[bugggzd]

ERM GUYS IDK HOW TUMBLR WORKS BUT WHY DID MY LAST POST LOW-KEY REACH PPL????😭😭 uhhhhhhhhh anyways have some JonMartin fluff?? ^_^

- Sho

[baby-yongbok]

I.N for the 2024 Digital Cover of DAZED Korea..

[mattvibe]

😁

[lil-miss-brainrot]

so do i kill myself or

[shveris]

new hidden inventory key visual

OH MY GODDDDD THEY ARE GOOOORGEOUSGDUHCJSHHXUGS

[justetna]

TF2 7TH COMIC SPOILERS AHEAD

REPEAT, SPOILERS AHEAD

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How am I supposed to keep on with my life after this?

My parents

Hehe Engineer

WHAT IS THAT HAIRCUT, THE ONLY THING I WON'T GET OVER IS THAT, THAT ATROCITIE

I don't even recognise him...

[orangechickenpillow]

Graceland Too by Phoebe Bridgers -- Arcane

[rhyperographer]

luigi mangione, the SUSPECTED (innocent until proven guilty) united healthcare shooter, has been charged with terrorism. that’s right. a man who supposedly shot ONE SINGLE PERSON is being charged with terrorism. because in america, billionaires lives matter enough that a SINGLE rich man’s death is considered a terrorist act against this country. think about that.

[hermanoga]

YINGDU GO BACK, I DON'T WANT IT. GO BACK. I DON'T CARE. I WON'T WATCH IT

FUCK OFF, FUCK OFF

[mcytshipsandmore]

That one person

I hate you. -⭐️

[seventhseian]

Sukuna grants you a wish in hopes that you will seek revenge towards those who made you bleed for the sake of themselves, but instead, he shudders underneath the graze of your thumb against his skin, and you spoke, a melodic hymm to his ears.

"I wish for a child, my lord."

He stares at you, completely baffled, but he lets your touch linger, and slowly, he sinks.

"You... Foolish human..."

(What a foolish God he is.)

He lets himself succumb to the living thing, and soon, limbs entangle underneath the glistening moonlight.

He deems you as foolish, but he's more of the foolish one for allowing himself to be content with something temporary. He knows the end, but he remains ignorant for the sake of the one he loves.

And soon, as you kneel before death, you regret the wish of having him face the consequences of his action─your child.

So you beg, even towards death, for another chance to be a proper lover and a mother in the next entirety of your life.

"This the daycare?"

"Welcome! You must be Sir Sukuna. Here to drop off your nephew?"

[miss-rum-hee]

Tumblr when pedophilia (male on female): 🤬

Tumblr when pedophilia (female towards female): 😃

draw your fave wrestler like this

[cas-of-apollo]

This is my first time writing fanfic y'all please don't bully me I'll like it/jk inspired by this photo!!

Dean was sifting through the books of research Sam gave to him. On *Christmas.* How pathetic is that? It's supposed to be a break for them, the one day. His cup of lukewarm whiskey sits beside him as Sam scuffles out of the kitchen towards the room Dean's occupying.

"Hey, Dean?" He asks quietly, as if he doesn't want to broach the subject. Dean looks up from the page he was halfway through reading and sees that Sam's face is solemn. His eyebrows furrow and now he's slightly worried.

"Yeah, what's up, Sammy?" Dean keeps his voice steady as to not show that he's a little freaked out. He never likes it when Sam sounds like this. Him and those puppy dog eyes.

"Do you remember much of Christmas when we were younger? You know, with dad?" He sips his tea nervously, tapping and flicking the side of the cup.

"Why? Is there something buggin' you? Why are you worried about John?" My lip twitches down at the mention at the mention of him.

"I just—you know. . . It's Christmas! Don't you have any good memories with dad? Or with me," he tries to make it seem less of a big deal as he thinks it to be. Dean tries to bring his memory back to all those years ago and it takes him a moment to get it to the forefront of his mind.

Every year before 1987, they spent Christmas alone. Through the *whole* month. John never stayed or actually made an effort to. Sam tried his best to enjoy it with his brother and Dean tried to make it as exciting as a 12 year old could. The tree was a shitty excuse for design and Dean was lucky if he could scavenge up enough money to get Sam a gift. He tried to pretend that they came from John, but he doesn't think Sam ever believed him anyways. For eight, he was incredibly smart. He always was.

This year, John visited. They were holed up in the dingy motel that their dad kept them in every time they had to go to another state. Dean was sitting and playing with his mini fire truck he's had since he can remember. He always wanted to be a firefighter and he still does, but he doesn't really get the chance to. Not anymore. But if hunting is how he got to save people, he'll be damned if he quits.

John came back the morning after Christmas Day and smelled like the back of a dumpster. He even looked like it too. His hands were cut up, bruised, and was just a mess all over. Beer was gripped in his hand, already have empty. John's shadow was always big and intimidating but this time, it felt suffocating. Dean looked up at him, confused.

"Dad?"

——————————————————–

In the kitchen, Sam was eating the left over cereal they had stored even though Dean wanted it. He couldn't say no to him though. He poured both the cereal and milk for him and headed for the dishes to clean them.

"Dean?" He asks meekly.

"Yeah, Sammy?" He turned around, looking at him with his good eye. Sam frowns and looks damn near close to tears.

"What happened?"

"Ah, nothin' you need to worry about, Sammy. We're okay," He smiles at him and turns back to the pile of gross dishes. He hated doing them, made him gag, but if he did them, Sammy wouldn't have to. His left eye still hurts and felt like there's pressure on it. Doesn't hurt more than the headache that came with it.

Dean blinks back out of my stupor and smiles weakly at Sam, just as always.

"No, not really, Sammy. Sorry," he tells him as he goes back to the book but not before he sees the relief of air leave Sam. He smiles to himself—a real one—and goes back to researching. He thinks, 'I'm is his older brother and if John takes it out on me rather than Sammy, I'll take it.'

[yyantojin]

[marquitte]

Petition to give Yuki a gun.