if i look back, i am lost
Not today Justin
we're not kids anymore.
Game of Thrones Daily
$LAYYYTER
ellievsbear
cherry valley forever
Discoholic 🪩
todays bird
No title available
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Kiana Khansmith
Sade Olutola
Acquired Stardust
PR's Tumblrdome
Sweet Seals For You, Always
trying on a metaphor
Love Begins
"I'm Dorothy Gale from Kansas"
i don't do bad sauce passes
seen from Greece
seen from Malaysia
seen from Sri Lanka
seen from United Kingdom
seen from France
seen from Italy
seen from Australia
seen from Hungary
seen from Malaysia
seen from United Kingdom
seen from United States
seen from Malaysia
seen from Singapore
seen from United Kingdom
seen from Russia
seen from United States
seen from Singapore
seen from United States
seen from United States
seen from Australia
@restingbitchfacekween
Succession (2018-2023) ~ Nobody Is Ever Missing, This Is Not For Tears, All The Bells Say, With Open Eyes \\\ Saturn Devouring His Son - Francisco Goya, The Taking of Christ - Carravaggio, Stańczyk - Jan Matejko, Love's Shadow - Frederick Sandys
The Terror really has everything. Homoerotic subtext, enemies to lovers trope, a bunch of middle aged man we can call baby girls, the horrors of the world, slow descent into madness, sadbois, cannibalism. 10/10 best series I’ve seen in a long while.
“Ain’t youth meant to be beautiful?”
Marvel’s Voices: Comunidades #1 - “¿De Donde Eres?” (2021)
written by David Betancourt art by Alitha E. Martinez, José Marzan Jr., & Bryan Valenza
shes pretty
angoulême bothering them when she finds out knights get paid lol
So peaceful Souvenir. A brother singing ancient Andalusian song in Al-hambra palace.
Unmute
The right amount of melancholy
This is one of my most favorite Andalusian muwashshahat (an Arabic poem that’s specifically written to be sung). It was written in the 3rd century by an Arab poet from Granada, so it’s not very far fetched that the song has been sung at some point in that very palace centuries ago.
These are the lyrics in Arabic and English, in case anyone’s interested.
When he appeared with a sway in his walk My darling infatuated me with his beauty Oh, my fate and my confusion Who will have mercy when I complain Of anguish in love Except for the holder of beauty?
لما بدا يتثنى حبي جماله فتننا وعدي و يا حيرتي من لي رحيم شكوتي فى الحب من لوعتي إلا مليك الجمال
me when regular men man spread:
me when boba fett man spreads: AWOOOOGGAAAAA BARKBARKBSFKHSHSH
STAR WARS: VISIONS (2021) + Parallels to other Star Wars media
I love being bi and having horrific taste wish I could put it on my resume
Body 5.
Ciri’s lessons are going great!
Thank you to @theamazingbard that sent me this video with the caption “lambert and vesemir” and had me cackling as I drew this fkdjgf
the voice of reason
skates grating
Young Heroes, from the Subterranean Press edition of A Little Hatred by Joe Abercrombie
Left to right, back to front: Jin, Barniva, Glaward, Jurand, Antaup, Leo, and Ritter.
Antaup tossed back that loose lock of dark hair that always hung across his forehead and right away it flopped down again. He was the one the girls couldn’t leave alone, slick and quick and well groomed as a winning racehorse, but all of Leo’s friends were fine-looking men in their own ways. Jin was fierce as the Bloody-Nine in a fight, but when that toothy grin split his red beard and those blue eyes twinkled, it was like the sun coming out. You couldn’t deny Barniva made the brooding veteran act work for him, especially with the scar on his forehead and the white streak it had left in his hair. Then Glaward was a slab of good-humoured manliness, with the height, and the shoulders, and the stubble already thick an hour after he shaved.
As handsome a crowd of young heroes as you could hope to find. What a painting they’d make! Maybe Leo would get one commissioned. Who’d know an artist? He found himself glancing sideways.
The ladies in Ostenhorm might not see it, but Jurand was the best-looking of the pack. They might’ve called his features soft, beside Glaward’s cleft chin or Antaup’s sharp cheekbones, but Leo thought of them more as … delicate? Subtle? The slightest bit vulnerable, even? But you’d find no one tougher than Jurand in defence of his friends. The expressiveness he could pack into a glance. The little frown as he thought something through. The twitch at the corner of his lips as he leaned close to say it. And always something worth hearing. Something nobody else would’ve—
Jurand glanced sideways and Leo looked quickly away, back up towards those Northmen on the ridge.
