Sammyisstressed - Sammy :]

Back on tumblr finally so here’s my piece for the otasune zine!! Better late than never.

🌻🌻🌻

good morning to all black alternative folks. this is a reminder that you shouldnt have to pick between your identity and your interests, and your blackness is hardcore as fuck. poser paste (and other hair colour waxes) is a great way to colour your hair bright vibrant colours without chemical treatment, i personally think bantu knots are the afro equivalent of liberty spikes, protective style mohawks are always sick as hell, and i think the anarchist symbol would make a hella cool mark. i love you!

honkshoo mimimi

Win a copy of Extrasolar!

We’re giving away Extrasolar’s biggest bundle to one of our amazing supporters! Reblog this post and follow @extrasolarzine​ for your chance to win. If the winner has already purchased Extrasolar, their order will be refunded.

Extrasolar is a Voltron charity zine that follows Klance as they explore the universe together! In the zine’s 9 fics and 36 pieces of art, Lance and Keith visit tourist paradises, hostile worlds, and even the farthest reaches of space. Extrasolar is full of banter, sticky situations, and maybe a couple of smooches, so preorder now for a Klance fix that’s truly out of this world!

All of Extrasolar’s proceeds will be donated to The Trevor Project, an organization supporting LGBTQ+ youth. Preorders are open until May 13th at 3am EST.

❤️✨💙PREORDER EXTRASOLAR ❤️✨💙

About the zine  |  Twitter  |  Instagram

We’re also doing a giveaway on Twitter! Follow us there + RT our giveaway tweet for another chance to win!

The reason behind Bruce Wayne’s headaches:

professional yapper

my favorite thing about dracula is that in original folktales vampires bit their victims on the chest but bram STOKER, not wanting it to be SEXY, moved it to the NECK because he’s a dumb homo repressed idiot

Yea man

Men who only have a soft spot for... her

He’s a problem. A walking, talking... paradox of sharp edges and soft hands—except the soft is reserved for her and her alone. To the rest of the world, he’s all business: measured words, steady hands, a gaze that doesn’t waver. But the moment she walks into the room? His composure unravels, just a little. Enough for his fingers to twitch, for his breath to catch, for something unbearably fond to settle behind his eyes.

It’s... pathetic, really. He knows it. She could ask him for the world, and he’d set it at her feet without a second thought. Hell, she could ask him to kneel, and he’d do it. Not because she wants power over him—no, she doesn’t even realize what she does to him—but because she’s her. His undoing. His salvation. The only thing that makes this whole godforsaken life worth it.

He watches her across the room, the way she tucks a loose strand of hair behind her ear, the way she bites her lip in concentration, completely unaware of the fact that he’s starving for her. It’s not just want. It’s not even need. It’s something deeper, something that’s settled into his bones and taken root in his bloodstream.

She turns, catches him staring. Raises an eyebrow, amused.

“You good?”

Not even close. But he smirks, tugs at the knot of his tie like it’s strangling him. “Yeah, sweetheart. Just thinking.”

Thinking about how he’s never letting her go. About how she could walk him straight off the edge of the world, and he’d follow without hesitation. About how he’s already ruined for anyone else, because she’s it. The only light in his life, the only thing that makes him human.

And God help him, he wouldn’t have it any other way.

my parents aren’t teaching me life lessons.

#i need some adults to TEACH ME SHIT ABOUT LIFE