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pros: it would most likely vastly improve my life in a multitude of ways

cons: might get scared

#seriously!! #😭

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can you put harrow in a clown costume

Ninth House bonding time

#gideon nav #harrowhark nonagesimus #fanart #perfection!

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hi love you guys do me a favor. big big big BIG breath in right now all the way all the way breathe in feel your belly expanding hold hold hold.. hold.. now everything out like ur a deflating balloon. whoosh. whooooooooosh. imagine water streaming from the top of your head down your shoulders off the ends of your fingertips and toes. u are a reed in a river a beam of pure light a steady anvil solid and heavy. ok that was all thank u

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okie here are the farmer doodles i started like last month and didnt bother finishing until now

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IT'S TIME TO BID AT @fandomtrumpshate!!!

here's a quick roundup of the TLT fandom tag, click through for more info about each creator's offerings:

💀

fanart

litzi (@litzis-art)

Jacketpotatoo (@jacketpotatoo)

wortel (@worteltje7)

🗡️

fanfiction

adverbialstarlight (@adverbialstarlight)

Nightworldlove (@nightworldlove)

Raxheim (@theriverbeyond)

redlight

beyonces_fiancee (@beyoncesfiancee)

Emjen_Enla (@emjenwrites)

hopelessgemini

arithmonym (@arithmonym)

shamshirs

raedas - poetry!

countingnothings (@countingnothings)

a-big-apple (oh hey that's me!)

elijah-was-a-prophet

Griselda (@griseldagimpel)

🦴

fan audio

tipsy-kitty - podfic!

gentlemean (@gentlemean) - music!

⚔️

fan labor

beyonces_fiancee (@beyoncesfiancee)

so now's the time, go show these fellow fans some love and drive up the bidding to benefit nonprofits!!

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Revenge Bedtime Procrastination! It's $Free.99!

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James Baldwin.

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me staring at my calculator app for 45 seconds before i remember i was trying to open my clock app to set an alarm

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Enormous Animals with Divine Powers Populate Kanako Abe’s Dreamy Papercuts

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FTH 2024 Auction Calendar

We blinked, and it's 2024, and our EIGHTH year of running this auction. 2024 has all the same problems as last year but more — but we also have a lot to be hopeful about, and a lot of good projects worth supporting and fighting for.

You can look at this page (also linked in our header) for the list of this year's supported nonprofit organizations. We'll be posting more detailed profiles of each of them in the coming weeks. Below is the full calendar for this year's auction.

February 5th: creator signups open

February 19th: creator signups close

February 29th: browsing period begins

March 5th: bidding opens

March 9th: bidding closes

March 16th: proof of high bid donations due

March 21st: proof of 2nd chance donations due

Back in 2021, as we were pulling together the fifth FTH auction, we joked together behind the scenes about how great it felt that the name of our auction was no longer quite as on-the-nose as it had been in our first few years. But it's 2024, and in all likelihood 45 will be back on the ballot: just one of the many sobering and scary things we're facing down this year.

But for the past seven years, we've had the privilege of watching thousands of fans -- yes, literally thousands -- dedicate their time and money and energy to the twin projects of sending support to some amazing organizations while building and strengthening community ties within fandom. Now, more than ever, that kind of community-building is essential.

We hope you'll join us, and join one another, in sending much-needed financial support to these amazing organizations and in putting more joy and beauty out into the world in the form of fanworks. These are dark times, but when we join together we can make them a little brighter.

(What is Fandom Trumps Hate anyway? Read our FAQ.)

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reblog to cast level 5 spell: everyone who reads this gets a full night sleep

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every battle-earned bruise

Elbows deep in sudsy water, scrubbing plates with his eyes kept safe on the sponge in his hand, Bucky too close to his shoulder and all the farther for it. Steve hands him a plate. Their fingers don’t touch. 

There’s a dance to this. Something careful, measured; he feels Bucky’s eyes resting directly on the corner of his jaw, then slip to his neck, then drop down his forearms. If Steve looked back he’d probably see Bucky staring at the corner like he hadn’t been watching. 

His gaze flits around the room quick as anything these days. There was a time when he’d spend hours looking at the clouds from the fire escape. Now he’s looking, always looking, always assessing threats and risks and exit plans. Steve still isn’t sure which category these particular examinations fall under. 

In the space between them, Steve asks, “You remember that time in the alley, after Peterson punched my lights out?” His voice is quiet, quiet. There is a fragility to this rhythm that could break as easily as a dropped plate. 

Bucky shifts his weight. “I remember.”

A shouting match, a sharp, radiating pain that just wouldn’t quit, not for days and days after. Bucky’s soft swear and flitting hands. Steve hands him a glass and asks, “How much of that do you remember?”

Steve risks a glance up and in their reflection in the window, Bucky meets his eyes. And back then Bucky had cursed him up and down with a damn you, damn you, why do you do this and his fingers on Steve’s jaw and Steve had spat blood out of his mouth and said, far more pathetic than he’d wanted, Steve had wiped his chin and said, I like your hands on me like that. 

They hadn’t talked about it afterwards. The draft and the war and the Howlies, the serums in both of their veins running counter to one another back then and even still now, history weighing so heavy on both their shoulders, eyes that once focused on clouds trained to focus through sniper scopes. Memory is a fraught thing. They haven’t yet cleared all the landmines stretching between them. 

Bucky sets the glass down. Steve holds his breath, stays still as Bucky’s fingertip outlines the memory of a scar on his jaw. Then Bucky’s thumb dips, resting on Steve’s bottom lip as he frowns in concentration. His memory face, Sam calls it. He slightly tilts Steve’s face from left to right and back again like he’s remembering the blood and the bruises before leaning in and kissing him. 

Oh. It’s a breath of a kiss more than anything and he wasn’t — he’s too slow, he wasn’t expecting it; Steve kisses him back a second after Bucky pulls away, still studying him with that searching expression on his face. He catches a glimpse of his own wide eyes in the window and oh, he wasn’t expecting that. Oh, oh. 

“Is that right?” Bucky asks, thumb still on Steve’s lip. “Did I do that then? In the alley?”

Steve shakes his head. “No,” he says, and Bucky’s hand falls away. He clears his throat. “No, you never — never did that.”

Bucky shrugs. Picks up the dish towel. “Must’ve just wanted to then. It’s hard spotting the difference between memories and wishes.”

He’s far away again. Farther, because he was so close just a second ago. It’s like lowering your mouth to a mirror and breathing on it to see the condensation, that’s what that kiss was. Bucky was testing him out to see what’s left between before it faded. Wasn’t he?

“Bucky,” Steve says. 

And — Bucky catches his eyes in the window, looks away, turns and leans so he’s facing him. “We really never did that before?”

“I didn’t know you wanted to.”

“But you wanted to?” he asks. 

And Steve says, “Yes.” And he says, “I would’ve kissed you back then, if you’d kissed me first.”

Bucky’s gaze dips, finds the door, the empty space at Steve’s hip where he usually wears a gun, skim past his thigh before flicking back to Steve’s. Threats, risks, exit plans. “And now?”

“Now—” Steve’s breath catches. He dries his hands on the towel Bucky’s holding and says, “Yeah, Buck. I’d kiss you now.”

He leans in this time. This time, he brushes Bucky’s hair behind his ear, threads his fingers through to cradle the nape of his neck, leaves some space between their bodies in case Bucky wants it there. Slow movements. Steve isn’t sure which one of them he’s afraid of spooking off. He exhales as Bucky eases him closer by his belt loops and when they kiss, it’s gentle. It’s a dance he half-remembers the steps to, a routine learned in dreams in a Brooklyn apartment years ago. 

Bucky’s lips are soft. He wasn’t expecting that. He thinks a lot of things would’ve been different if he’d known this back then. 

Bucky moves away first. Steve is struck again by the normalcy of him here in his kitchen, standing next to counters Steve installed and drying dishes Steve picked out at random. He doesn’t look out of place anymore. He looks — pleased. Like he got away with something he thought he’d get nailed on for sure. And Steve knows. 

“You remembered, didn’t you?” he asks. He laughs a little; Bucky smiles a little. “You knew we hadn’t—”

“I’ve been wanting to,” Bucky says. “I know you’ve noticed me looking at you. Seemed like you’ve been wanting to, too. Do you still like it when I touch you like that?”

He thumbs Steve’s bottom lip as he asks it and Steve — well. Steve’s pinned by his touch. Something like anticipation whispers its way up his spine. 

“Yes,” he says. Bucky doesn’t move his hand; Steve says, “If we finish the dishes first, will you kiss me again?”

And oh, there — that ghost of a laugh. Those eyebrows pulled in for a challenge and those eyes bright with amusement, teasing the way they used to decades ago. Shoulders broader and his smile heavier too. Bucky Barnes in his kitchen. He’d do it all over again if this is where they ended up. Every battle-earned bruise brought him back to Bucky Barnes in his kitchen with a dish towel over his shoulder, waiting to finish the dishes so they can kiss again, closing the loop on a circle a hundred years in the making. Steve’s so in love he almost can’t bear it.

“Okay,” Bucky says simply, eyes alight, and their fingers brush as Steve hands him a plate. 

#stucky #stucky fics are the best fics #i am not biased 😊 #so short and so perfect #long time ago that i read a story about them #i should do it again

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Will always be proud, excited and grateful every time they choose my work for their cover. Hope you like it. Thank you to the team @newyorkermag. Thank you to New York. Cover for week of 1/22/2024.

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why is this about to make me sob

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Black cats are lucky. (via leahweissmuller)