What if the fic i wrote for my ludicrous space pirate percy au was like…tender and tragic. What then
MUST YOU PEOPLE CHOOSE VIOLENCE EVERY DAY
thank you terror discord for making me simp hard for henry collins. i hate you
Not now sweaty mommy’s crying over Taylor Swift songs
i’m obviously reading too much into this but dean automatically assuming that to get the info sam would need to do the girl “special favors”… hits different when you consider the jackles headcanon
all of my toes feel broken
robin lord taylor looks like if there was a third dan and phil. or if they had a bastard child
i’m aromantic. aro-spectrum. aro-adjacent. sort of aro. aro-questioning. aromaybe.
lesbian sammy art incoming over at @transtiels just gimme a minute to scan
i love all nonbinary lesbians. those who identify with she, he, they, it, and any combination. kisses to you all 💕
the latest wandavision ep sucked so bad especially their “sokovian accents” and the “let’s practice our eenglish pápá” but the quote “what is grief if not love perservering” might be enough to redeem it
3 sentence jonmartin ft. angst and spooky archivist dreams
He finds him in his dreams, with far, far too many eyes, unblinking and seeing into nothing and everything.
“Oh, Jon,” Martin whispers, slipping his hand into the warmth of his own palm and giving it a squeeze.
The eyes do not move, and Martin feels their cold gaze stare into him and through him; distantly, Martin feels Jon’s hand slowly close around his.
have some francisgerry flash fiction lol
“You might wanna break out the £3 dye again, Dracula,” Francis says, burying their cheek in the pillow and Gerry’s dark abyss of tresses.
The sound of Gerry scoffing and, “got something to say about my hair, Van Helsing?”
“Your roots are coming back in,” Francis says, the scent of ash and cheap shampoo lingering in their nose, their fingers weaving through a sea of fading black product and the creeping tendrils of strawberry blonde locks clawing their way to the sunlight.
this is maybe a weird ip combination, but i was talking to a friend yesterday about grief in tms5 compared to w*nd*v*sion bc the most recent ep got me thinking (this is a pretty long post about the former, sorry).
wanna know where i live? you must either make something good enough for me to pay real dollars for it (therefore getting my address to ship me something), or pay me enough money to have me make something for you (getting my address from me sending you something)
Unfriendly, incredibly hateful reminder that if you ship incest and/or pedophilia you need to fucking die. Don’t unfollow me or block me, just go shoot yourself in the head. Full offense.
something about the idea of side hustles, or whatever, is just so fucking weird to me
reasons i regret getting twitter: shel silverstein feet pics