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#wow I just love it
lunarlivs · 13 days
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pov: you’re harry being born to a bunch of 21 year olds
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their thoughts and doodles below the cut <3
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localraccconn · 4 months
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barry keoghan u lil freak i love u so much
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akantorrr · 4 months
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itsthislake · 1 month
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“Icarus.”
it's all about freedom really
Credit goes to An Sifakah for the poem. Enjoy!
Support me on Ko-fi maybe?
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newttxt · 8 days
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and thats a wrapppppppp!!
from the 10th and final chapter of utilities included
masterpost
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crowleylesbian · 8 months
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“crowleys gonna reject aziraphale in s3🥺‼️” crowley would walk on his hands and knees 1000 miles through a desert of broken glass for just the chance to hang out with aziraphale. be serious.
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cowboythewizard726 · 1 month
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BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALIN!!! BLOOD SOAKED FALINNNNNNNNNNN!!!
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andi-o-geyser · 8 months
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Something is wrong in this city, and it's been such a slow burn that nobody even realizes they're dying.
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bivampir · 1 year
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it's SO funny that when asked what he had to do to prepare for his role in IWTV Sam Reid says he had to learn how to play the piano, learn to speak French, Italian, and English with a French accent. Bailey read IWTV religiously and added her own comments, and kept an actual fucking journal she wrote entirely as Claudia. meanwhile Jacob Anderson, when asked the same question, just responds with “oh nothing, i was already emo”. icons and legends only
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The way u draw game Vanny/Vanessa reminds me of Envy Adams from Scott Pilgrim
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I actually see exactly what you mean omg
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egophiliac · 10 months
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still absolutely losing my mind over Lilia
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marisatomay · 2 years
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i’m so sick of writers who proudly proclaim that they don’t read and directors and actors and other filmmakers who smugly say that they rarely watch movies or any artist who acts like an audience is stupid for connecting with their work like what the fuck is wrong with you that you hold such contempt such derision for the art that you have chosen to make the art that so many people dream of the opportunity to make the art that brings meaning and connection to people’s lives it’s unbelievably disrespectful to both your audience and the art-form and if you can’t muster basic respect for either your art-form or your audience then kindly fuck off and do something else
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jenanigans1207 · 3 months
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I just love the idea that Cas and Dean actually manage to be sneaky in the beginning of their relationship, keeping it secret not because they don’t trust Sam or are ashamed but because they need to feel solid in it themselves before they tell anyone. So they’ve actually done a spectacular job of keeping quiet and not getting caught.
And then one day Cas and Dean are sitting at the table in the bunker kitchen, half asleep while Cas sips coffee and Dean munches halfheartedly on soggy cereal, when Sam comes back from his morning run.
“There you guys are!” He says as he pulls his headphones out of his ears. “I’ve been waiting for you to get up!”
“Why?” Dean asks, dropping his spoon into his bowl and splashing a little milk over the side. “You find us a case?”
Sam shakes his head as he heads to the fridge for a bottle of water. “I think there’s something wrong with the bunker.”
“What kind of something?” Dean asks, casting a curious glance around.
The bunker had seemed fine to him. Nothing strange had happened. No weird noises, no strange smells, nothing creepy or daunting that was outside of the ordinary as far as living completely underground went.
“Well, the lights have been acting weird.” Sam begins, thinking. “And the electricity will just randomly short out. It’s like all the fuses blow at once, or something, even when nothing has changed.”
Dean, still half asleep and only a few sips into his own coffee, doesn’t immediately make the connection. But Cas seems to go incredibly still across the table from him.
“Huh.” Dean says, pushing his bowl away and reaching for his mug. “I haven’t seen any of that. When is this happening?”
Dean still hasn’t pieced it together, but Cas is sending him a solid, desperate stare over the rim of his own mug. Dean’s mind is trying to kick on, to figure it out, and then Sam says—
“Well, most recently was last night. You were already in bed. And Cas— I don’t know where you were.”
And oh. Oh. Dean understands now.
Because yeah, he had been in bed last night. It just so happens that Cas had been in his bed, too. And they were— busy, but sleeping isn’t exactly what they were doing.
Dean purposely does not meet Cas’s gaze.
“Weird.” Dean says with a shrug that he hopes is nonchalant.
“Yeah,” Cas finally manages to agree, his fingers tight around his mug. “That is strange, I haven’t noticed it, either. We’ll have to keep an eye out for it and address it if it’s an electrical issue.”
Sam, beautiful, sweet Sam, doesn’t seem to notice anything amiss. He shrugs. “Yeah, just let me know if you notice it. Maybe it’s just a weird fluke.”
And it will be awhile yet before Sam understands why this only happens when he’s alone in the bunker at night, why it never happens when Dean and Cas stay up with him to the early hours of the morning to research. Sam will live confused but peacefully oblivious for as long as they can all get away with.
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civetside · 4 months
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hello guys it's me miss consistent art style!!! wrestling AU????? sorry i am smashing my 2 current interests together as ya do, gideons trying to be a cool pro wrestler and harrow is her manager
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s-aint-elmo · 5 months
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Falin has been nearsighted since she was little, and has a habit of squinting when she's looking at things. —Delicious in Dungeon World Guide: The Adventurer's Bible
she should have been at the optometrist's
(ID in alt text)
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astrobolical · 11 months
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Okay.
As much as I love feral Satan, who lets his instincts run wild and growls, bites and everything else… his soft side is so fuckin’ cute.
The Satan that stares at you in confusion as you tend to a small cut on his hand he’d received on one of his rampages, unbothered by the mess around the two of you and concerned solely with him. How he doesn’t quite know why his chest feels so warm and tight as he looks at your gentle, concerned expression.
Satan, who doesn’t understand why he feels so weightless with you, why his heart flutters and why he wants to hold you so gently, as if cradling something precious.
Satan, whose anger fades just from your presence alone, overtaken with feelings he’s never experienced, that baffle him entirely but he can’t get enough.
Satan, who desperately throws himself into research just to understand you a little more, to put a name on how he feels about you— who’s just as afraid of his own feelings as he is elated by them.
Satan, who worries you’ll be frightened of him if his temper rises, but you never are, even when he tells you that you should be.
Satan, who lays beside you, watching your sleeping face and utterly baffled that you trust him so completely to allow him to see you in such a vulnerable state… who knows deep down he’ll protect you forever.
Satan, who fumbles each time he tries to explain any of this to you, whose face becomes adorably reddened with each failed attempt.
Satan, who realizes that you’ve accepted him entirely, his every fault, his everything, before he had even come close to accepting himself. Who loves you more than he could ever put to words, or that he could ever really comprehend.
Just him. You know? Ahh, just helping him come to terms with everything he doesn’t know, to grow and understand. Helping him, in the end, to love.
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