when u Mom com home and make hte spagheti
wowsas hte spaghetti alien is back!
sheepfilms

祝日 / Permanent Vacation

Origami Around

Janaina Medeiros
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❣ Chile in a Photography ❣
RMH
Sweet Seals For You, Always
Monterey Bay Aquarium

Love Begins

Kaledo Art

PR's Tumblrdome
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tumblr dot com
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
NASA

roma★
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda
will byers stan first human second
dirt enthusiast
seen from Brazil
seen from United States
seen from Italy

seen from Oman
seen from Belarus
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seen from Chile
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@thevampman24
when u Mom com home and make hte spagheti
wowsas hte spaghetti alien is back!
I truly believe being a tumblr user for longer then 5+ years gives you the resilience of a 1000 suns compared to other social media websites while also turning you into some kind of cave dwelling gremlin creature collecting their favorite treasures through reblogs.
Boss is asleep, cannot stop me from frogposting
First like and this has already found its intended audience
uh oh
After reading a comic got a scene stuck in my head
Been reading some comics by @elsa-fogen specifcally after reading this page of said comic and a scene formed in my head wouldn't leave till i wrote it. Since this is Hazbin Hotel warnings of adult content and the like. and brief mentions of Spousal and sexual abuse.
Alastor keeps holding Vox’s head, his shadow claws lightly tapping on his screen. A brief flash of light appears in Vox’s room, and before Vox can start to panic at the new presence, Alastor says, I hear the shuffling of angels’ feet, and My My do I smell sanctomony? No, this is genuine piety. Strange. You're in the wrong room. No one here wishes to be saved, Revrend.
The angel says, I am not an evangelist, Mr. Desrosiers. I am called Cassiel, the Angel of Whispers. I work for the Celestial Intelligence Agency under the archangel Uriel.
Vox startled says, What the fuck? CIA? Heaven has spooks? Fuck you’re here to exterminate me arnt you?
Cassiel says, No. Mr. Whittmen. Truth be told, I didn’t even know you would be here. I am here to speak with the Radio Demon.
Alastor places Vox down as he turns to face the angel, saying, If it’s a fight you want. I will not go quietly into oblivion.
Alastor calls his still tremendous power to him, even through the wound made by Adam’s stupid axe and the pain of the burns from the Might of Lilith. Cassiel simply raises a hand and says, Peace. I am not here to fight but to aid.
Alastor: I don’t want Heaven’s fucking pity! Cassiel: it’s not pity. Its… call of your shadows and let’s talk. Vincent you have any whiskey you’d be willing to share?
Vox says from his place on the seat yeah, minibar 15 feet to your left by the door. Wait. How the fuck do you know my live name?
Cassiel doesn't answer right away. He waits till Alastor calls off his power; he calmly finds the mini bar and a bottle of Wraith Whiskey and pours three fingers' worth on ice in three glasses. He offers one to Alastor first, then one with a straw for vox then sits down with the third.
Casiel: I know both of your live names because I can see them, perk of the job i guess. And, Alastor, what I am offering isnt pity its compensation for services rendered.
Alastor: Funny. I dont remember helping any little old ladies cross the street recently. Nor have I built a nunnery. May need to jog my memory.
Cassiel takes a sip of the whiskey and frowns at the burn, then says, Fine, firstly, besides aiding in stopping Vin-Vox’s penis companstation from taking out half of the Pride ring. You pushed Emily out of the way of that blast. Injuring yourself to save her.
Vox huffs, I wasn’t compensating.
Alastor says, Drink your whiskey Vox. Adults are talking. There’s more to this than just a reflex and trying to protect my own hide.
Cassiel says, and you’d be right. While those two deeds could be, as you said, just a reflex and self-preservation. Tell me, do you remember Thaddius Thibodeaux? Alastor takes a very long sip of his whiskey before he remembers a drunk in 1923 that he’d pass running errands for his father’s haberdashery. Just before his father’s heart gave out. A drunk who was almost proud to tell folks how he hit his wife, and Alastor remembers hearing said drunk mutter one night to himself that if his wife wouldn’t put out, that his girl was old enough. The drunk never saw Alastor pick up the loose brick and wind up to strike him with it, and before the drunk could react, Alastor had his hands around his throat and crushed his windpipe. Alastor: Ah. didn’t even learn his name till the papers the next day. Mugging gone wrong was the theory, even though I never even looked for money. Just not a fan of those who threaten and abuse the fairer sex. And why do you care about what i did to that waste of oxygen? Cassiel: Thaddius Thibodeaux didn’t just have a wife, Miriam and 14-year-old daughter, Celeste. He also had a 14-year-old son, Theodore. Who tragically tried to protect his mother and sister a few nights prior, only for his father to grab the back of Theodore’s head and smash his face on a table. Said action sent the cartilage of his nose into his brain, killing him.
Vox: Oh shit.
Alastor: I see. Metaphorically, at least. You are Theodore.
Cassiel nods before remembering Alastor is missing his eyes and says, Yes I am. You did what I couldn’t, and I want to repay that debt.
Alastor taps his chin with his cane before saying, and what if i dont want it? Would you just leave? Cassiel: Yes.
Alastor: That simply?
Cassiel: Yes. choice. Free will must be honored and protected; that is literally my job, and what I’ve done since earning my wings.
Alastor: and how would you fix me? Some of that celestial brass I saw Adam’s right hand have?
Cassiel: If this were a sanctioned mission. Maybe. But I was thinking more of treating the residual divine energy clinging to your wounds so they may actually heal in time, and maybe take your eye over in that glass and give it back to you.
Vox startled says, hey thats my tro-. The words die as Theodore levels a glare that makes his circuits freeze and his face pixelate.
Cassiel: You've made plenty of deals with down below. Care to try one from on high?
Alastor finishes his whiskey, thinking. Thinking of all the pity he keeps getting despite still having multiple overlords' souls and many more demons’ still trapped in his broadcast.
Alastor: you drive a hard bargain Mr. Thibodeaux. But let's shake and make it happen.
Cassiel smiles as he finishes his own drink and grabs Alastor’s eye and monocle from Vox’s bedside table, and before taking Alastor’s outstretched hand, Cassiel warns, This will hurt a lot. Alastor: My Dear Boy. Pain and I are practically lovers at this point. Do your worst or best as the case may be.
Cassiel grips Alastor’s right hand, and Vox feels the energy coming off the angel and overlord, the pain both men are keeping in with clenched teeth. When the lights die down and Vox can see again he sees first the angel looking haggard. As if he hadn’t slept or ate much in months and sees golden blood dripping from his eyes, nose, ears and the corners of his mouth. Alastor rolls his shoulders, cracks his neck, and picks up and puts on his monocle with mechanical efficiency, and when Alastor’s one eye falls on Vox. Vox sees not the ever-present grin but disdain and disgust, Alastor’s mouth was actually a frown.
As Alastor is rubbing his jaw and enjoying the feeling of not having so many nerves constantly on fire. Vox stammers, Al. You're not smiling.
Alastor: Dont be silly Vox sadly its physically impossible… for… me.. The words die as Alastor sees his reflection in Vox’s screen. He wasn’t smiling. He was so taken aback that he almost didn’t notice how his other wounds didn’t look new. How they now looked like they were healing or scarring. Alastor: Boy do you know what you have done? My smile was a link in the chain of my deal. Cassiel: Oops. I thought it was nerve damage. I’m a field agent, not a doctor.
Alastor: And yet you felt the need to play at being one. Ah well. I’ve been smiling for nearly a century down here now, and only a drop of power to keep myself smiling but now I can turn it off. You have given me options. So what now? Cassiel: When my heart stops racing, I will return to Heaven and probably passout. Then you can do whatever you wish to do. Alastor: No hidden strings or fine print? I don’t need to host a radio church service every Sunday?
Cassiel: No. Bargains with Heaven run on a different system than deals down here. Your will is your own, just as what you do with it.
And with that, Cassiel was gone.
felt like drawing spamton in someone's lap
[patreon]
“average person eats 3 spiders a year” factoid actualy just statistical error. average person eats 0 spiders per year. Spiders Georg, who lives in cave & eats over 10,000 each day, is an outlier adn should not have been counted
#tapping the reblog button with utmost care because i’m handling a historical artifact (via @malarkiness)
holy shit OP is not only still active but is still making absolutely banger posts in this exact style 11 years later
A 2025 update
DBZ Abridged quotes my beloved
Kermit going: “However-“ and immediately firing a pistol repeatedly is fantastic and my new favorite clap back for literally anything
Amy's probably had a "character drops weights and they destroy the floor" moment to fight someone to protect shadow/silver from something and they're both just like O-O
Shadow knows there's nothing he can do to stop her
will merrin ever give in to the poncho?
Nope never <3 even when they've been together for well over a decade
(commission info // tip jar!)
"the magnus archives sounds cool! what are the content warnings?"
kidnapping stalking insanity sleepwalking cannibalism and teeth, gaslighting gun violence pipe murder and silence and medical trauma and meat. bugs in your body and poisoned black coffee and self-mutilation and lies, police brutality breaks from reality suicide spiders and eyes. paaaaaranoia degloving the uncanny valley and running like prey to survive, agonies torture and drowning and falling and then being buried alive.
I keep remembering a run of Hamlet I saw a few years ago, where the Ghost was costumed in full plate armour which was very noisy, and instead of muffling it, they had him crash across the stage, stomping so the whole set rattled, and he said all of his lines in a bellow, like he was furious with Hamlet.
And the thing that made it absolutely terrifying was that Hamlet was the only one who reacted. He was cowering, and covering his ears with both hands, and yelling to be heard over the noise.
And no one else seemed to know why he was doing that. The other actors didn't even raise their voices.
That's scary, something so loud and painful, and REAL, and the people around you don't even notice it, and think that you're the crazy one.
Lots of folks wailing and gnashing their teeth that they didn't get to see this particular interpretation of Hamlet--go check out your local small theatre groups!
This wasn't a big fancy theatre, it was the local small theatre where half the regular cast members are people I went to uni with!
Your local theatres are probably doing cool stuff all the time!! Go see stuff!
Wizard worm just emerged from a wizarding hole! Lucky you!!!✨🪱🪄🍀
I love this picture because nobody is in any kind of recognizable fencing stance.
Adi Gallia is holding a boquet for a Prom pic.
Mace is about to knock a curveball into the stands
Yoda is swinging a broom at a spider on the ceiling
Ki-Adi-Muni is taking a creepy tinder selfie
Obi-wan is on Coruscant’s next Top Model and Space-Tyra has just told him “Play golf, but make it Fashion”
And Anakin Skywalker is grinding his flat ass on an stripper pole.
To be fair, all of these are entirely in character.
Most of these don’t even match the actual lightsaber combat forms lol
The descriptions are so hilarious I have to do this. XDDDDD
I had not seen the illustrations!!
i read CS Lewis’ A Grief Observed one time years ago and i’m still not recovered from it
— A Grief Observed: part i-ii, C.S. Lewis x
“Back in the eighties dungeons were becoming a thing in New York. Guys would pay a lot of money to come there and have some dominatrix tell them what to do. I was making leather pencil skirts for a lot of the doms, with holes in the back so that guys could kiss their ass. One day I was fitting a dom named Asia, and I told her: ‘I bet I could make more money than you without wearing stuff like this.’ She bet me I couldn’t. It was all a big goof. But then I started really thinking about it. Asia was making $150 a session, and that was real money. So I did the same thing I always do when I get an idea. I just ran an ad in the back of the Village Voice. Most of these girls were advertising how young they were. So I used the word ‘mature.’ And I figured out how to write ‘Jewish Guys Welcome’ in Yiddish, and I put that at the bottom. It was some of the easiest money I ever made. I never let them touch me. All I had to do was be a bossy black woman. And I could do that easy because my mother had been such a bitch. I’d pretend to be a school teacher, or a nanny. It was the dumbest shit. I just kept inventing crazy scenarios. And the crazier the scenario, the more money I made. One time I heard about a dom on the Upper East Side who charged $3,000 a week to kidnap a guy and lock him in her basement. I didn’t have a basement, but I knew a limo driver named Dean who liked to hustle like me. So every time I got a call from a new client, I’d say: ‘You want to be kidnapped, don’t you?’ And he’d start stuttering like: ‘Duh, duh, duh, duh.’ And I’d say: ‘Listen to me closely. Stand on the corner of 5th and 18th tomorrow at 3 pm. Don’t be late.’ Then I’d call Dean and tell him the plan. It was always easy to spot the guy. He’d be the one checking his watch and looking scared as shit. So we’d roll up in the limo, grab him by the collar, and pull him inside. Then I’d lock the doors and start telling him what to do. Everything went down in the back of the limo. Dean just rolled up the partition and kept his eyes on the road. At the end I’d give him $100, because I was getting $250 for that.”
-Happy 81st birthday to Stephanie 'Tanqueray' Johnson. If you see her wheeling around Chelsea today wish her a happy birthday, and there is a nonzero chance she will give you a glow-in-the-dark dildo eraser. -Humans of New York
Listen to me. Listen to me right now. Two years from now people are going to tell you to vote for Democrats in the midterms. And you're going to shut the fuck up and do it.
#you are GOING to FUCKING do it
It's a contest now. You have to show off who's the biggest sheep, the most loyal dog. You have to go all-out in your displays of complete and unquestioning devotion, literally saying that your vote will never change no matter how much the circumstances do. You brag about your subservience and then attack those who don't do the same. Orwell couldn't...no, actually, he could absolutely conceive of this. But that's because he saw Soviet-backed communists doing it in the name of one of history's worst tyrants-to see it in a fully democratic society would turn his stomach.
Listen to me. Listen to me right now. Two years from now people are going to tell you to vote for Democrats in the midterms. And you're going to shut the fuck up and do it.
Really? We're going to have the ability to vote in two years?
I thought democracy was supposed to end now that Trump's in office.
Or is he just going to sit on his ass for two years and then if the midterms go Republican, then he'll give us the right-wing death squads?
Or can you fucking retards finally admit that you're just trying to bully your way into controlling people?
Brazenautomaton wrote this (emphases mine) back in September 2020, and to the surprise of absolutely nobody, it still applies word for word because these people (who BTW have the balls to call Trump supporters cultists) have not changed ONE JOT OR TITTLE in their narrative, and they keep giving us ample demonstrations of the Definition Of Insanity again and again:
This isn’t a “purity test”. This is “you guys cannot stop betraying me, you are just as bad as your opponents despite claiming we need to vote for you to keep your opponents from getting power, you do not give a shit about any of the causes you claim to be for, you engage in shitty backroom deals to sabotage the primaries and make sure the one awful candidate you Anointed gets the nomination, you cannot stop betraying me, and I am not going to reward your bad behaviour any more. The only way you might possibly realize you have to stop being terrible and actually do something about the causes you claim to champion, is to stop rewarding you for betraying us. You need to be reminded that a vote is not something you are entitled to, it is something you have to earn. I will vote for the candidate who doesn’t make me want to put a gun in my mouth and if you can’t meet that standard you don’t get my vote.” [...] The party line is now “Okay, the party betrayed us and nominated awful people who won’t do anything we want them to do, but we still have the obligation to vote for them! After we elect these people, then we’ll really hold them accountable and make them do what we want!” And how do they propose to hold politicians accountable when they are committed to always voting for those politicians no matter what? It’s not like “well, okay, next election will be the time to address how they keep betraying us.” Every single election in my entire lifetime, the Democrats have said, whether about the Presidency or lower offices, “Okay, so we know we betrayed you and nominated people you hate and who won’t do the things you want. But you have to vote for them anyway! This particular election is just too important to hold us accountable for betraying you, so much is at stake in this particular election!” You cannot stop bad behaviour by rewarding it. If they don’t earn my vote they don’t get my vote.