The Kitchen Sink

1.5M ratings
277k ratings

See, that’s what the app is perfect for.

Sounds perfect Wahhhh, I don’t wanna
nofashinpunk
nofashinpunk

hey if you're a UK resident can you sign this petition and if not please rb to spread the word

this is an official UK government petition that they have to respond to if it reaches 10,000 signatures

Pinned Post
octobermidnight

because apparently this needs to be said AGAIN

marzipanandminutiae

in the most general aesthetic terms possible

1600s: most witch-hunts ended in this century. no witches were burned in North America; they were hanged or in one case pressed to death

1700s: the American Revolution. Marie Antoinette. the French Revolution. the crazy King George. most pirate movies

1800-1830: Jane Austen! Pride and Prejudice! those dresses where the waist is right under one’s boobs and men have a crapton of facial hair inside high collars

1830-1900: Victorian. Les Miserables is at the beginning, the Civil War is in the middle, and Dracula is at the end

1900-1920: Edwardian. Titanic, World War I, the Samantha books from American Girl, Art Nouveau

1920s: Great Gatsby. Jazz Age. Flappers and all that. most people get this right but IT IS NOT VICTORIAN. STUFF FROM THIS ERA IS NOT VICTORIAN. DO NOT CALL IT VICTORIAN OR LIST IT ON EBAY AS VICTORIAN. THAT HAPPENS SURPRISINGLY OFTEN GIVEN HOW STAGGERING THE VISUAL DIFFERENCE BETWEEN ERAS IS. also not 100 years ago yet, glamour.com “100 years of X” videos. you’re lazy, glamour.com. you’re lazy and I demand my late Edwardian styles

I just saw people referencing witch burning and Marie Antoinette on a post about something happening in 1878. 1878. when there were like trains and flush toilets and early plastic and stuff. if you guys learn nothing else about history, you should at least have vague mental images for each era

vampireapologist

“Les Miserables is at the beginning, the Civil War is in the middle, and Dracula is at the end” sounds like the longest weirdest worst movie I’d pay to see in theatres five times.

capricious-styles-world

This was a better history lesson than school.

History
oifaaa
oifaaa

Now I'm thinking about Jim Gordon and how he's meant to act as the copaganda in most batman media but he also pretty shit at it considering he's meant to represent good cops he's the commissioner of the Gotham police yet despite having one of the most senior jobs in the police he still can't fix the corruption that is rampant in the GCPD almost like it doesn't matter if there's a good cop in charge the police will always be shitty

gotham Batman Jim Gordon
sleepymccoy
jonahmagnus

In world where there is two types of tower-dwellers, a Princess is locked in a tower.

There are two types of tower-people: A Princess, put there to remain pure until marriage or until rescued, and a Wizard, put there by choice to study and learn in isolation. Princesses are defined by their beautiful long hair, and wizards are defined by their beards and impressive 'stache.

There is a Princess, and she lives in a tower. She was put there recently by her mother and father, to keep her pure and untouched until they can secure the marriage to another kingdom and a prince shes never met. She has long, almost brown sandy-blonde hair, pale green eyes and a slim, tender build. She is not the fairest in the land, but she is fair and pretty. If compared to a rose, she would be the humble yet graceful willow tree, slender and tall. She has wanted to be a wizard since a young age, but there is no way for a Princess to become a wizard. Princesses are delicate girls to be protected and sold off until their either dead or Queens or have found True Love.

She used to run the castle halls, stick in hand, robe fashioned out of a delicate silk bedsheet, shouting fake spells at birds while her servants chased her. But as she grew older, her restraints became tighter, and more and more often, she was confined in her room to embroider in solitude with barely the comfort of a window or a maid. The life she is forced into makes her hang her head low, makes her hands be paper-soft, and demands her hair be long and beautiful and perfect like all other Princesses. The world she longed to be a part of was a world of study and experimentation, and as the kingdoms Princess and tool, she could not even dare to hint at her desires into adulthood. She could become a witch, she knew, flee the castle barefoot and sink into the loving embrace of the swamp. But witches don’t live in towers, and they mostly make potions instead of spells, and they don’t grow the flowing whimsical beards that wizards do.

But that does not mean she has to be bored in her tower. Fascinated by magic as she always has been, she arranges with a long string of bribes for books on spells and forbidden potions to be smuggled along with her meals. She studies them while the clock ticks down for either a prince to arrive or her marriage to be finalized. Either one will doom her, and she wants to enjoy herself as much as possible until her marriage. She pours over the books long into the night by candlelight, and all day, she rests her pale, tired eyes. She experiments, and she reads, and she studies non-stop, barely stopping for meals and littering her books with an assortment of food stains. She cuts off her hair to use in bubbling gold potions, her skin becomes scarred with a rainbow of the consequences of failed experiments, and her dresses turn into makeshift cheesecloths and fire-fuel. She washes late into the night after she is done with her work for the day in the darkness, not glancing into the mirror that has become cracked and dusty. When her eyesight starts to fail from strain and working in darkness, she fashions for herself bottle-round glasses, blown by herself in the depths of her tower. Engrossed as she is in her studies, she does not notice the tower warp, and the meals stop rotting, and how she started out in one circular room but now has a loft and a second floor and the fact that the tower seems much much taller then it was originally.

What she DOES notice though, is when brushing crumbs from her face she feels facial hair on her upper lip.

She rushes to the bathroom and thrusts a candle into the holder as she looks at herself. In the dusty mirror, she sees the beginnings of a bushy mustache sit on her upper lip, much further along in growth then be logically possible without her noticing. It’s a pale blonde, like her hair, and she notices faintly that there are streaks of grey in it, a very familiar shade of grey. She brings a trembling hand to her upper lip.

Much, much later, a prince rides up to the tower. It is tall, and warped, and very clearly belonging to a wizard, despite the royal family claiming their daughter lives here.

He shouts up, a bit nervous because of the thorny vines wrapping the beautiful stonework.

“Hey! Does a Princess live here?”

A young man with large bottle glasses and a rather impressive mustache leans out of the tower, his short, sandy-blonde hair spilling lightly in the wind. He starts to say something, then glances back into his house. A smile breaks out on his face as he seems to realize something.

“No!” He shouts back, after a moments hesitation. “But a wizard does!”

wizard-email

It's been a while since I've seen new tumblr fairytale :)

fairy tale Tumblr fairytale
vengeful-nerd
cuubism

modern human au dreamling where dream and hob get married for "tax purposes" yup 100% that's definitely the only reason no other reason

dream is actually from generational wealth because of his weird family but he lives like a starving artist out of spite. hob is in academia so you already know. dream is like everything is so expensive we should live together to split expenses and maybe get married for Tax Benefits ("wow i am such a genius now i get hob to myself" one second later: "shit now i get hob to myself. perhaps this was a mistake")

hob, hopelessly in love with his friend: haha (panicking) sounds great dream (actually needs to save the money though) sure (panicking again)

dream: (i've made a mistake) great :) (dying inside)

dream, digging himself in deeper: we should get a one bedroom apartment To Save Money and also what if someone comes and figures out we're married for Tax Purposes

hob: who is going to come dream

dream: the tax.... police

hob: the who

dream: you know.

hob:

anyway so they get a one bedroom apartment and awkwardly share a bed while dying inside for like 5 years until one day hob runs into desire or something and desire is like why the fuck is dream sharing a shitty apartment with you? he could buy that whole building. and hob is like what. and desire is like we're rich dude.

so hob goes home and is like married for tax purposes dream? FOR TAX PURPOSES? you're literally rich, apparently!

dream, sweating: yeah and you know what rich people are really passionate about. PAYING LESS TAXES (nailed it)

hob is supremely unimpressed.

dream: anyway so i've technically been paying both our rent for five years and just stuck yours in my family's investment account to save it for you later do you want your fifty grand.

hob: my fucking WHAT

dream: it's actually worth like a hundred now

hob:

dream:...............courting gift?

cuubism

Hob throws open the door, absolutely burning with rage, with betrayal. He's had the past eight hours of work to think about it, and the anger hasn't quieted, it's only grown - he feels kind of insane, actually.

For all that Dream has dozens of extremely irritating personality traits - seems to be made up solely of them, in fact - Hob is almost never actually mad at him. He's far too fond of him in all his quirks to hold onto any feeling like that for long.

This is different, though. How could he just lie? For FIVE YEARS? Has he just-- has he just known the whole time, and is getting some kind of kick out of playing with Hob's feelings? Or is it, what, pity? Hob doesn't need pity, he can manage perfectly fine on his own, thanks.

"--I don't give a fucking shit about the money," he's already saying, a gruff anger in his tone that he doesn't really like hearing come out of his mouth, especially directed at Dream-- "but I CANNOT believe you would--"

He freezes in the living room entryway. Dream is slouched on the couch, feet up on the armrest, laptop open on his thighs -- and apparently in middle of a family zoom call so irate he hasn't even noticed Hob come in.

"Was," Destiny is saying, voice loud in the computer speakers, each word clipped and stressed (though Destiny is always stressed, from what Hob's heard), "There. Even. A. Fucking. Prenup."

Oh god. This is about Hob. And wait-- did Dream's family not even know? It's been five years!

"I don't know what that is," Dream says, which Hob knows is false. With a father like Dream's, you don't even get through preschool without learning to 'plan for the future.'

(Hob is now realizing that he knows pretty much everything about Dream's family except for the fact that they're fucking billionaires, and what -- and he cannot stress this enough -- the fuck.)

Keep reading

dream of the endless Hob gadling the sandman
xyagold
winter2468

Howl truly is the man of all time. He’s a playboy. He’s a malewife. He fell in love with a ninety year old woman. He’s a rugby player. He smells like hyacinths. He’s not a natural blond. When dying his hair went slightly wrong, he filled his home with slime. He has a PhD. He’s a wizard. He found a way to another universe and he told absolutely nobody about it. He makes video games about the magical universe for his nephews. He can’t play the guitar. He always takes a guitar with him when he’s trying to seduce a woman. He’s a self-proclaimed coward. He got drunk to trick himself into doing something dangerous. He overcharges for his services to rich people. He undercharges for his services to poor people. A woman invaded his home and declared herself his cleaning lady and he just let her stay. He loves spiders. He lies about his surname to everyone, including royalty. The true spelling of his first name is Howell, but we don’t find out until halfway through the book because the POV character thinks it’s spelled Howl. He’s even Welsh.

howls moving castle the book Howl
caffeinewitchcraft
writing-prompt-s

A woman makes a deal with the devil… but before signing, she actually reads the contract. She is the first to do so.

caffeinewitchcraft

She’s got a good head on her shoulders. That’s what Grandma said and Uncle said and Daddy said and Peter said. She’s got a good head on her shoulders.

So even though the brimstone in the air is making her eyes water, even though the ground is so hot it’s making the rubber of her soles soft, even though he’s looking at her with fire in his eyes, she’s not going to go throwing that away now. This deal is too important to lose her head now.

“It’s the standard contract,” the devil says. The pinstripes on his suit aren’t black like she’d first thought. They’re red and they shine in the red light of his eyes. “I get rid his cancer and then you give me your soul on your dying day. That’s a good deal isn’t it? You’ll have the rest of your lives together.”

She hunches over the paper and her shoulders shake. He thinks she’s crying right now, he thinks she’s trying to muster the courage to sign, but she’s not. She’s reading the fine print because it’s the only part of the paper that’s not red like the pinstripes of his suit. It’s black, blacker than anything she’s seen and she knows it’d be bad to let her eyes skip over it.

She bites her lip until blood wells. When it drops, it falls on one word. Just one. Her blood eats through the ink of this word, steaming and hissing. She breathes in the smoke and feels the word settle deep into her lungs.

Then, when she’s done, she stands tall and she looks the devil in the eye. His smile flickers when he sees that she’s got the same fire in her eyes as him, when he sees that there aren’t any tear tracks on her face. 

“Sure,” she says, heart a rampaging thing in her chest. “That’s a good deal.”

His smile returns full force when she signs it. He takes the paper lovingly into his jacket, presses his own bloodied finger to it to sign it, sweeps a bow, and promises she won’t see him until she’s on her death bed.

She knows she’ll be seeing him a lot sooner than that.

Keep reading

Deal with the devil writing prompts
passionfruitbowls
the-party-bus

“Wait, there are people blaming the writers?”

Are you surprised? Fandoms have become notorious anti-writer spaces. Studios love you guys. They can cut the budgets, cut the number of writers, cut the wages of the writers, and you guys always blame the writers. “The writers ruined the show!” It’s never “the studios ruined the show.”

I hate to break it to you: more than half the shows you complain were “ruined by the writers”, were ruined by the studios. Studios cut the scenes and arcs you were excited for. Studios cut the budget of the show, or even raise the budget of the show and force a “bigger, louder, bolder” tone on shows that were unexpected hits (this is where we get “the Netflix look” on every show post-Stranger Things and Queen’s Gambit).

You guys do not do your research. Half your fanfics are tagged with bad faith digs at the writers, when a few searches would reveal how strapped that show was and how poorly the writers were treated. Writers are being given a single week to write each episode—I’m not kidding, one-week-per-episode is one of the reasons for the strike. How are good arcs and scenes supposed to happen under that time limit, with a max of only four writers?

Tumblr, the self-proclaimed “pro-union, pro-worker, pro-artist” site is also a major fandom site. You guys rarely practice good faith consumer etiquette for television and film writers, because your fandom salt always turns you against writers. And studios love you for it.

Yeah, individual writers do create bad writing from time to time. But so do painters, chefs, and musicians. Directors and actors sometimes refuse to film certain scenes or follow a show’s projected style and arc, and the writers always get the crap for a bad performance or a poorly directed episode. This isn’t to blame actors or directors; it’s to point out that you guys have one villain, and it’s always the writers. You guys never give writers the same grace you give animators, designers, directors, actors, composers, and editors.

Studios love you every time you say “the writers ruined the show.” Every single popular fandom is guilty of this. View any of the “why did the writers cut this scene, they hate my characters” talk when leaked scenes hit the internet. Writers barely get paid for what they do write. You think they’re writing scenes and then happily throwing them in the shredder? You guys just eat the talk that studios put out. Always have.