Woke Up This Morning To A Comment On A Fic Saying They Hoped I Didn’t Mind Them Commenting On Such

I love walking 'slightly' away from the wall so that these former frat-bro business dudes have to move out of the way otherwise they run into me.

And they seem awfully afraid to run into me: a five-foot-three girl, wearing all black, with waist length neon green hair

nothing is funnier than Catholics getting mad at Anglican priests for having sex lives

anyways good night i’m gonna go indulge in my unrealistic romantic fantasies until i fall asleep

Shapeshifters of the DSMP

and a bonus phil and human!techno bc i wanted to draw him big stronk arms

btw hey @quack-city sorry if you don't like to be tagged, whatcha think of my techno design m8?

She hadn’t seen it before, but he looks a wreck. Deep bags under his eyes, greasy, unkempt hair that’s falling out of his hat. There’s still flour and some egg remnants splattered on his face and clothes that he’s hastily trying to wipe off, but Kristin couldn’t care less about any of that. All she cares about is the way his eyes sparkle like sapphires when he looks at her, and that sudden energy courses through his body as he runs down the steps toward her.

“It’s Kristin!” he blurts, looking back at Niki, and then again to Kristin, blinking again and again like her very presence is incomprehensible. His voice is shaking too much to say anything more, his whole body trembling from far more than the cold as he draws nearer to her.

For the first time in so many years, Kristin doesn’t know what to do with herself. The mortal world is bright and overwhelming, and Phil is but one beautiful piece in all of it. She keeps an arm on a snow-covered spruce chair to steady herself, allowing him to take that final step towards her only because she doesn’t trust herself not to get horribly distracted if she reaches him first. “Hi,” Kristin says finally, feeling nearly as breathless as he looks.

the syndicate lore finale, but from c!kristin’s point of view, including all she did to get to phil.

reblog please thanks beloveds

"I'm what the murderers look like" says the clown that frequently asks Uber drivers to take him to sketchy train yards

this one’s for all the fat girls who’ve cried in dressing rooms 💗

What’s going to make you happy right now? Is it some cake? Is it a nap? Is it calling your mom? Is it going on a drive and blasting music? Is it taking a bath? Is it reading a book?

Check in with yourself because you deserve that happiness, whatever it is.

it’s december 1 where’s the christmas tail kitten bring him to me

So when I'm backstage for the show I'm working on, there's this stage hand that always stands in peripheral as I refuse to look at him and stubbornly stare at the floor, hoping against hope that he'll get the hint and go away

but no, if I don't acknowledge him for long enough he'll just put up a fist and I have to give him a fist bump like I wasn't just blatantly ignoring him