#Mini Length.

[saidabdaljaid]

[myfemjourney]

Come With Me!

...and let's just doll up together...

A ribbed crop top and a maroon miniskirt, with nude tights, hip pads and heels. Completing the look with a decent hair wig and low effort but layered makeup.

But, all this for what? Can anyone answer?

[macarthurpark]

accidental pregnancy with fordsie :3

since you've made your way back to gravity falls for the summer, you hadn't stopped looking at the long lost twin of Stanley, the rather reclusive man with streaks of both black and grey in his head and a stoic frown of focus always on his lips.

safe to say, after he'd accidentally pulled you against him due to a reaction between the necklace on your bosom, the bracelets on your wrists, and the metal attracting device in his hand during a day of experimentation in the forest, there wasn't much stopping you both from developing a deeper interest.

ford was somewhat reserved, you weren't-- you liked singing karaoke at greasy's every Friday, and he couldn't be caught dead even attending such an establishment without either his brother or great niece and nephew, and Stanley would have to buy him fries if he wanted his brother to stay longer than ten minutes.

all these differences mattered little when he'd offhandedly mentioned Dungeons, Dungeons, and More Dungeons in a conversation with Dipper in front of you. after one game and a passionate screaming match between the two of you that reverberated through the mystery shack's floorboards, it was clear that a match had been made by the gods. even ford found himself unable to let you go from his mind when fall arrived and your lease had run out.

so, after some passive aggressive encouragement from Mabel on her grunkle's behalf, you stayed in your little rental in town. you took up some shifts at the mystery shack (stanley offered, not only for the extra help and lower than legal minimum wage, but also to watch with popcorn as his Sixer would grow red and all eager to discuss his latest discovery with you), and sometimes you even spent the night in his room.

it was all friendly at first, him offering a bed after you two spent the evening after playing Dungeons after his studies; it was nothing more than a sleepover, he'd tell himself! his thoughts couldn't defy the fact that his body burned to even consider sleeping nearby someone nearly a third of his age, as beautiful as you were.

(how he wasn't sheepish by those green shorts he wore to sleep, you had no clue. at least you liked the look of them when he wore them in the mornings, his hair all mussed with sleep and his glasses resting lazy on his nose.)

his bed was a twin size, too small to share between two grown adults, and he'd usually offered to sleep on the floor if you stayed overnight, even as the infatuation between you two grew obvious. No matter how tightly he would hold you close as you cuddled or how hungrily he could kiss you if you accidentally helped him with a discovery, he refused to sleep in his own damned bed, just because you were there.

until one night, he'd gotten the hint when you refused to let him go as he tried to slip away and lay on the floor.

he really got the hint when you straddled him instead of returning the stiff 'goodnight' he gave you.

the poor man's glasses had fogged up as he was fucked into next week by you.

such was the life of ford for the next few months or so, and time even came where he'd felt jealous on the nights you weren't asleep next to him.

one evening came where you weren't with him, for he'd been too busy with his work to chat. it was no big deal, not for you-- you already had felt rather drained, so it would be a peaceful night in for once. you were excited to crack open a beer, and watch some old reruns of the golden girls, anyway.

as soon as you'd flicked off the bottle cap of the beer, your nose wrinkled-- was something in the fridge bad? did a animal shit right outside your damn front door? you sniffed around till you leaned close to the fresh beverage in your hand-- and you gagged violently before dropping the glass in a panic. now there was glass and beer all over your tile!

what the fuck just happened!

you'd thought the beer had somehow went bad with such a vile smell that emanated from it, and you'd plan to give stanley the rest of the twelve pack when you saw him the next day. whether he'd drink it himself or sell it off as some sort of evil potion, you didn't care.

you tried to move on after cleaning up the mess, making some popcorn and finding almost an exact same reaction-- except this time, you did end up puking into the bowl when your senses became overwhelmed with the scent and buttery taste all at once. the better question now showed itself-- what was going on with you? How had you suddenly lost all taste for the things you loved to consume?

Later that evening, you could only seethe as Stan cracked open and drank one of your precious beers with a healthy chug, an echoed belch following you through the hallways to Stanford's office so loudly that you couldn't help but get pissed off. what a waste of perfectly good beer on that old con!

you went to ford about your concerns, even he was confused by such a reaction-- so of course, now you were sitting on his desk as he scrutinized you heavily. you'd given samples of your nail trimmings and had your armpits examined, but you trusted that your eccentric older boyfriend knew what he was doing.

"there's no tautness of skin...hmm... your palate remains the same..." He was busy muttering to himself, ignoring any actual question you made to his low words, and he turned away to look through his drawers again. He paced around from desk to desk in his lab, but Ford was finally returning to stand before you after a few minutes of scrounging.

"it could very well be a leech or some bug from swimming in that putrid lake! If you'll allow me to obtain a full body scan, I'll check to see if all is in order."

With a raise of his hand, you could see Ford had brought out this weird device that looked more like a gun than anything from your perspective. of course you shrieked and tried to dodge the end of it that was pointed at you. "hey, hey hey HEY!"

Pausing with a confused stare, the poor man was more caught off guard than anything as he watched you flail and shriek, but he was resting the object aside as he tried to calm you down.

"heavens above, y/n! its a wireless X-ray gun! it's harmless, it cant even emit radiation! sit down!" his voice boomed, more annoyed that you would think he'd hurt you than being willing to calm your sudden shock. you sat back on the counter, more shaken than annoyed or fearful, and pondering quietly as he pointed the thing first at the top of your head-- he could see the results from his perspective as he scanned over the expanse of your form.

his brows furrowed once he passed over your head, neck and arms to see nothing. he murmured and cursed to himself one more, and you were more interested in how he'd made such a device like the one scanning you now. he slowly guided the gun down your midriff, frustrated that nothing seemed to be showing itself off out of the ordinary.

"I don't understand. Nothing is--" The very moment the machine trailed over your stomach and lower half, his hand paused, and Stanford's eyes got big.

It was small, but the eyes of a scientist like him knew when he was staring at a fetus or not. It was so little, so new, but it was resting serenely inside you.

by the gods, after the last thirty years of trekking dimensions and surviving battles against demons, how did the topic of his own fertility be the last thing on his mind whilst he had been pumping you full of seed almost weekly?

From your perspective, it was humorous to see his glasses slightly dramatize how big his stare became-- you found yourself panicked the longer he remained still and said nothing about what he was very clearly looking at inside you.

"Christ! Do I have an egg or something inside me?! Let me see, Ford!"

"NO! No, no, y-you're fine!" No longer lost in shock, he yanked back the x-ray gun as you reached out for it, more panicked than anything in that moment and already very sensitive about his inventions. Even as he reassured you all was well, the look on Stanford's face didn't seem to appease you. He was shocked at whatever he saw.

"You're not making me feel any better, Ford. Can you let me see the reading?"

"i... it cant capture an image, i-it just exposes what ever is in front of it."

Ford was still being too quiet for you to stand.

"Ford, you're being dramatic! If I'm fine, then what is with this weird silent treatment? What, is there a baby or something?" You try to laugh off his fearful gaze with your ironic statement, but Ford wasn't laughing with you. As a matter of fact, that stunned stare was turning in to something more soft at your words-- more of a puppy dog's pleading gaze.

"You... happen to have a more enlarged uterus than normal?"

you both stare at one another for a long minute. ford isn't uncomfortable with the news discovered by some awry invention of his, but he's watching you closely for any sense of negative response. he's slightly even praying that you'll just smile and give him a hug with the happy news.

you burst into tears, and ford is in panic to start hugging you close once its clear you're in need his support. you hold him close, getting his jacket wet with your tears, finally calming yourself into an unsteady silence that is more familiar to you two both.

You look up at him, and you smile.

Ford smiles back, and he can feel his heart grow so warm he thinks he might start bawling with you at any moment.

"If my assumptions are correct, we've got eight months to have Mabel plan the perfect baby shower."

[oldschool-lolita-archive]

Sena wears Meta’s sundress jsk in black x white.

Meta’s “velveteen sundress jsk” (the same but velveteen) was released in 1999, and re-released in 2005 in both cotton broadcloth and velveteen.

These photos were taken in 2004 so I think it is an older undocumented version like the one of the example image which has a curly tag label.

Example image via Thekristen on LM

[naffeclipse]

Crush Depth

Chapter 1: You're On You're Own

FNAF Mermaid!DCA x Y/N (SFW)

You stare out the forward viewport—the window. The sub’s only window. Blood splashes against the thick glass. It is human blood. It fills an ocean on Moon FZ-87. The atmosphere is dark and barren, speckled with the ghostly light of stars that have been gone for decades. This is the last view you have of anything above the blood ocean surface. Futility sinks roots into your ribs.

Word Count: ~2,700 Warnings: See tags.

A/N: First things first, although this is an Iron Lung AU, I have taken some creative liberties to keep up the horror/atmosphere within a written medium and have included additional details to the sub as well as added events/objects within this story to make it a proper DCA AU rather than just a written account of the video game. I will also include my interpretations of the game and what I believe the lore is implying. This also includes the DCA as monstrous blood ocean mers and how they will play into the story.

Iron Lung is a video game and one I highly recommend watching a playthrough of or playing yourself. If you are unfamiliar with Iron Lung, you don't have to know of it in order to read this fic. I believe I wrote it so that anyone might enjoy it.

Please note the tags and content warning for this fic. It will be dark and heavy, including suicidal thoughts, psychological horror, reality-bending, and blood. It's an ocean of blood, I can't stress that enough. Chapter warnings will not include those tags I just listed as that will be consistent throughout the fic, but I will include chapter warnings for specific events such as drowning or injury.

Enjoy!

[mysticfemme]

okay but I think personally the cutest thing is seeing a masc holding what is very clearly their girlfriend's bag and just absolutely rocking this silly little bag contrasted against their tough looking outfit

[bigender-cowboy]

If this post hits like 15 notes or something I’ll ask to cut my hair for the first time in like 2 - 3 years

[sesamenom]

silmaril-gazing, maglorath (peaceful) vs maglorath (dagor dagorath)

plus a version with the same palette on both sides

[effable-as-f]

I know I'm prone to hyperbole but that might've actually been the funniest episode of all time

[arty-e]

arty, do you already have a prediction on when gen 2 will start?

Afraid not, it’s been taking longer than I thought to prepare for it and my irl has been busy with quite a few changes going on. I am hoping for a September release for the mini chapters (they’ll be released just before gen 2 starts up) but once I’ve got everything I want prepared done I’ll release the official date a few weeks before

[dorameiraxp]

First Marriage episode 01

[musubiki]

I genuinely didn’t realize TCGW was an actual webtoon because (gestures) you draw such good art and I thought these were just you know, ocs you posted about. And I saw the anniversary posters and was like “oh you know, theyve must have had this tumblr for a while”. I searched it up on a whim- WHAT DO YOU MEAN I CAN GET MY FIX OF CONTENT FROM THE WEBTOON.

Anyways

hands and knees this is the rest of my day

AHA YEAH I LEAVE THE EXISTING EPISODES UP ON WEBTOON!!!!! unfortunately i dont make them anymore since they were too time consuming...i think i started it during covid when i had a lot of free time but now that im in grad school i cant make the commitment...,,

so now they are just ocs i post about :') and the posters are just me living delulu with the story in my head because i like making posters!! the anni posters are just celebrating the existence of my kids TT_TT

[etchetceteraart]

Frankenstein’s monster my beloved

[ghostlyarchaeologist]

Ghostly's Mini Leverage Crack Vid 13/?

[meganjaye2]

Amanda Holden in sexy mini skirt and knee length boots 💕

[wilsonsmcgillsweatshirt]

House M.D. One-shot

Tw suicide Tw self-harm Tw assisted suicide Tw Overdosing Tw Drug Use

House keeps living after Wilson's death just so he can keep his promise to Thirteen.

He struggles after Wilson's death, seeking comfort in drugs and alcohol, anything he could get his hands on.

He laughs to himself one night, thinking, "They all thought I had a problem with the pills. Look at me now. A proper addict."

He floats around, never staying in the same spot too long, just trying to survive from one high to the next. When the drugs aren't doing enough, he takes to other forms of self-harm. What's it matter if he can't use his hand properly anymore after breaking it so many times? Nothing matters anymore. His leg hurts, his hand hurts, his head hurts, his heart fucking hurts.

He lives on the edge, breaking the law every single day but never exposing himself enough to risk getting arrested again. The closest he gets to anyone from his old life is when he stands in the back of Wilson's funeral. Wilson's mom is crying, and House feels like he should say something, but he can't bring himself to step up and speak to her. He overdoses that night, multiple hard drugs running through his veins.

He hallucinates Wilson. His wavy brown hair and big brown eyes, throwing out some witty remark. House overdoses again, this time on purpose after that, just to see Wilson. He's living on borrowed time.

Every time he sees Wilson, he wants to grab his shoulders and cry.

"I was supposed to go with you."

"I promise I'm coming."

House doesn't believe in an afterlife, but when he's sprawled out on the dirty floor of some abandoned building high out of his mind, he likes to pretend that he'll see Wilson again. House died when Wilson did, and all the important parts of him left with him.

Weeks drag out into months, and months drag out into years. House has no idea when it is. Time means nothing once you're dead. Eventually, he figures it must have been enough days, enough months, enough years, for him to find her.

Thirteen looks almost as bad as House does once he comes face to face with her for the first time in years. She stands huddled at the door, nothing but skin and bones and an oversized sweatshirt. Her face is shrunken in, and her hands are shaking, and she stares at the man outside her door with awe.

House doesn't remember when the last time he shaved was. The years of hard drug use have taken their toll, and he would wager that he weighs less than Thirteen does. He looks like a dead man, and at first, Thirteen thinks she's seeing a ghost.

"Looks like I'm right on time." Even his voice sounds different, hoarse and gravely and broken. It shocks Thirteen out of her stupor, though, and she knows immediately what he's referring to. "We thought you were dead."

"I am."

"God House, what have you been doing?"

"Waiting for you. I made you a promise, didn't I?"

A look of understanding crosses her face. "I guess you are right on time." She's ready. She's been ready for a long time. The disease has progressed to the point that it's taken over her life. She's got nothing left. She's said goodbye to everybody already, planning to take matters into her own hands.

She lets House in, and then she starts to laugh. She can't stop laughing. Tears roll down her face, and her cheeks turn red, and her face hurts. House looks at her fondly. He's always felt paternal towards her.

Once she composes herself, she answers the question she knows he wants to ask.

"It's just - I don't know how you knew, but you did. I already picked today."

House smirks, it looks more like a grimace, but the intent it there. "I guess I'm just that good."

Thirteen has more then enough drugs, and when House brings them all out, she looks at him knowingly. She ends up laying on the couch, both of them quiet as he injects the drugs into her bloodstream. House lays on the floor after that, using the rest on himself.

They wait in silence until Thirteen speaks suddenly. "Do you think there's any chance of a heaven? Honestly. None of that bullshit edgy stuff you used to always say."

House doesn't answer right away, and when he does, his speech is slurred, the drugs finally settling in. "I hope so. I hope he's there."

His body feels heavy, and he struggles to move. It takes a few tries, but eventually, he manages to reach up and catch Thirteens' hand in his own, lacing their fingers together.

His time is up.