Sep 4, 2025
Photographer unknown. At Kalimpong, 1950-1960.
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Photographer unknown. At Kalimpong, 1950-1960.
You need a Twitter/X account to view: https://x.com/mangobaII/status/1478438651834998784
Have you read Cheater, Cheater (Dream SMP)?
I have read it
I haven't read it, but I plan to now
I haven't read it, but I'm in the fandom
I haven't read it, but I'm not in the fandom
Summary: I don't have twitter/x and so it wouldn't let me view, so I asked people in my discord server to help, and they couldn't find it either, so- they have reported that it's tweet threads with images, and is also a holiday special so- wait, hold up, they found a bot that kind of helps so I'll just link those and move on from my confusion
@mangobaII: Cheater, Cheater ↳ a DNF socmed fanfic AU George is heartbroken when his boyfriend, Sapnap, cheats on him. What he doesn’t expec
@mangobaII: Cheater Cheater Christmas Special: A Mangoballed Christmas! ↳ A DNF socmed AU extra The boys are ready to spend their Christmas
Author: mangobaii on twitter
Note from Submitter: Made me cry. Some of the most beautiful characterization I've ever seen. Highly recommend if you've never read it before. Brilliant hurt/comfort and romance. I love the found family dynamics.
How to make your own paper zeppelin! (Scan from a small zine by the Kyoto Led Zeppelin fan club)
I am the storm....
STOLEN FROM FACEBOOK by a mutual Tumblr but I don't have an account there so it was manually copied & pasted to me and I don't know original author to credit. Feel free to add author/source if known.
Trump dies from the virus. He goes to Hell where the Devil is waiting for him. "I don't know what to do," says the Devil. "You're on my list but I have no room for you. But you definitely have to stay here, so I'll tell you what I'm going to do.
I've got three people here who weren't quite as bad as you. I'll let one of them go, but you have to take their place. I'll even let YOU decide who leaves." Trump thought that sounded pretty good so he agreed.
The devil opened the first room. In it was Richard Nixon and a large pool of water. He kept diving in and surfacing empty handed over and over and over, such was his fate in Hell. "No!" Trump said. "I don't think so. I'm not a good swimmer and I don't think I could do that all day long." The Devil led him to the next room. In it was Tony Blair with a sledgehammer and a room full of rocks. All he did was swing that hammer, time after time after time. "No! I've got this problem with my shoulder. I would be in constant agony if all I could do was break rocks all day!" commented Trump.
The Devil opened a third door. In it, Trump saw Bill Clinton lying naked on the floor with his arms staked over his head and his legs staked in spread-eagle pose. Bent over him was Monica Lewinsky, doing what she does best. Trump looked at this in disbelief for a while and finally said, "Yeah, I can handle this."
The Devil smiled and said, "Monica, you're free to go!"
my love, i feel like i was born with the shape of you already hollowed out inside me. loving you feels less like falling and more like remembering, like my bones already knew where you belonged. you have never asked me to be whole, you have just held what's left. you love like i'm not a burden, you stay because you insist the wreckage is worth sifting through. even with the roof collapsing and ghosts howling at the edges, i am still yours. when you say you love me, the world forgets how to be cruel, my ribs forget how to be a cage, my body forgets how to flinch. there's no performance to it. no masks. no rehearsals. just existing. just the terrible, unbearable, aching relief of being seen. of being known in the way only lovers do. you are the only gentle thing i didn't want to tear, the only light i didn't want to pull the curtains on. you're the softness i didn't think survived this century, and i know there's a god still in this rotting world, because he gave me the gift of your laughter. the very sound heals a bit more of me every day. i don't want miles between us. i don't want time zones and tiny screens. i want your skin grafted to mine. i want your breath in my lungs when mine fails. i want to grow old with your fingerprints still visible on my soul. and when i go i want to have my head in your lap. i want to go out knowing i loved something holy, and that it loved me back.
