#Since it was on Anon

[something-about-sunflowers]

Oh shit, worm? Like. Rip to people who don’t want to make an account for whatever reason but this is fucking great. Izzy Hater Anon eat your heart out.

[cali]

inferno darling groudon supervises the end of a lot of things

crops and a link to this as a print

[chimchiri]

Doodling Harrow is a good start to get into drawing again.

She reminds me of a messy, sweaty, angry kitten.

[skrs-cats]

set after leafpool dies, before the bonus scene w jayfeather dealing w that grief gets resolved. guess who was bitter over a certain cardboard character bitch not being included in that

Next

[augustinewrites]

Ooh shit I had the worlds worst thought— Megumi snapping at Fushigojo mom OF ALL PEOPLE in the heat of some kind or argument or bad day or something and blurting out “you’re not my mom” and then just AAAH IT WOULD BE SO SAD ALL FOUR OF THEM WOULD BE HEARTBROKEN AND MEGUMI WOULD BE SO UPSET WITH HIMSELF 😭😭😭🕳️🚶‍♀️

things have been difficult since tsumiki had fallen into a coma.

it's hard not to feel her absence at home. the empty seat at the dining table, the untouched laundry left folded in the hamper. somehow she's everywhere and nowhere, and it hurts.

you and satoru are heartbroken of course, but you can't begin to imagine how megumi feels.

at first he'd been quiet. megumi had always been quiet, but this was different. the two of you used to sit in comfortable silence, content to read quietly in each other's presence. now he shuffles to and from his bedroom barely uttering a word, silence hanging heavy as you try to coax him into staying.

then his grades had started slipping. you weren't awfully concerned. his teachers had been sympathetic enough to exempt him from final exams, and excuse any late or incomplete papers. despite his record of delinquency, he's always gotten high marks.

you could excuse these things. the silence, the grades. he's a little brother missing his big sister, and he's hurting.

but now he was starting to act out.

picking fights at school, talking back to faculty, giving attitude.

you startle where you stand in the kitchen when the front door suddenly slams shut, revealing a grumpy looking megumi. he kicks his shoes off, making a beeline for his room without stopping to greet you.

satoru holds a hand up before you can ask, walking over to the genkan to fix the sneakers.

"what now?" you ask, wiping your hands on your apron when your husband returns, kissing your forehead.

"suspended indefinitely for fighting," he sighs, running a hand through his hair. "he has to write an apology letter to everyone involved, and the headmaster said that next is expulsion."

"he can't keep doing this," you frown. "one of us needs to talk to him."

satoru is quick to touch the tip of his nose. "not it."

you roll your eyes (like megumi would, is that where he got it?) "yeah, it's probably best that you don't. he'd bite your head off."

he leans back against the counter, relieved. "yeah, i'd just— wait. you're doing that reverse psychology stuff on me again!"

feigning cluelessness is easy. "what are you talking about?"

"when you tell me i shouldn't do something and it makes me want to prove myself!"

"not my fault you're an incredibly prideful man."

"and just this once, i'll actually admit that talking to moody teens is not one of my many skills," he says. "this is your territory. you're the only one he might listen to. you've always been his favourite."

deep down, you know that he's right. you're the first one megumi goes to for everything. the first one he comes to with a new bump or scrape. the one whose side of the bed he squeezes into when he has a nightmare. the first one he talks to when he has a fight with a friend, or his sister...

you learned pretty quickly that megumi hated when people fussed over him (it came with his lone wolf tendencies) but he always let you.

so you steel yourself with a deep breath before knocking on his bedroom door.

"megumi?" you call gently. "can i come in?"

you decide to take his muffled response as permission, twisting the knob and slowly pushing the door open.

megumi's sat on the floor with his back pressed against the bed and his knees drawn up to his chest.

you close the door behind you. "thank you for letting me in."

he hums, peeking at you over his knees.

you sit on the floor across from him, rubbing your palms against your thighs. "i know that whatever we're feeling can't compare to how bad you're hurting, but we're worried about you."

"i'm fine."

"you're not, and you can't keep acting out at school."

"okay, i'll stop," he shrugs.

you should stop here. but you know megumi. he's only saying it because he knows that's what you want to hear.

you reach out, gently grasping his hand. "megumi, please. you can't keep this all in anymore. you always talk to me—"

"i don't want to talk about it," he snaps, jerking away from your touch. "can you just leave me alone?"

you flinch a little, surprised by the slight raise in his voice. he's never yelled at you. never snapped at you like that.

you're pushing too much, you realize. he's not ready to talk yet, you have to apologize.

"megumi, i'm—"

"just— just stop!" he shouts, expression stormy. "stop fussing over me, you're not my mom!"

to his credit, megumi looks like he regrets the words immediately, lips already shooting off an apology you can't seem to hear.

it does nothing to soothe the way your chest aches, full of hurt and a touch of betrayal. those words shouldn't hurt you as much as they do. he's right, you're not his mother.

but you don't even get to utter a word before the door swings open, a pissed off looking satoru striding into the room. shit. so he had been listening. "listen here you little shit—"

you stagger to your feet, stepping between your boys. "satoru, don't. don't! he's just upset."

"he can't talk to you like that!"

"let it go," you plead. "fighting is the last thing the three of us should be doing right now, okay?"

the three of you stand there for what seems like a lifetime, letting all the pain, frustration, and heartache fill the quiet apartment.

satoru shoots one last stern look around you before drawing a deep breath and focusing on you. you do the same as his hands come up to cup your cheeks, thumb swiping a stray tear away.

"we're just gonna give you some space, megs."

_____

"he didn't mean it," you remind satoru again that night, when sleep seems to be avoiding the both of you.

"i know. he still hurt your feelings though."

"well, he was right. i'm not his mom."

your husband tuts softly, reaching across the mattress and pulling you into his chest. "so what if you didn't give birth to them? you're something better because you chose them. you chose to love them and raise them when you didn't have to."

"of course i had to. they wouldn't have lasted a week in your care."

"oh? now who's being a little shit? i see where megumi gets his attitude from."

foreheads pressed together, the two of you laugh quietly. you feel light for the first time in weeks. the man holding you close, the boy sulking in his room, and the girl laying in the hospital.

they're your family, and you know they'll always love you as much as you love them.

waking up in the middle of the night to megumi squishing between you both (and satoru actually letting him) is as good a sign as any.

[fanaticalthings]

Jason being the easiest kid is super funny. Bruce looking at Jason and remembering Dick at 18: “we can work through this. He’ll come around if I don’t give up on.”

Bruce, watching over a freshly street-snatched Jason: Why is he so calm

Having Dick as the rambunctious, feral, and unhinged first child must've given him SO much whiplash once Jason entered the picture. Lil guy just vibed in his own world. Just reading books and doing schoolwork. Baby Jason hurt nobody.

Bruce will just be going over the ground rules of the manor, remembering all the chaos Dick brought upon the household.

Bruce: No swinging from the chandelier.

Jason: ?? I wasn't planning to?

Bruce: No murder.

Jason: What? That never even crossed my mind-

Bruce: And please, for the love of God, don't sneak out and try to beat up the nearest criminal on our block

Jason:

Jason: WHO is responsible for these rules being created??

Bruce will just come home from a long day of work. He's tired and just wants a nice, quiet evening, but he's subconsciously psyching himself up to prepare himself for the chaos he'll witness once he enters the manor

but then Jason's just quietly doing his own thing, maybe even helping Alfred with some chores, reading, or just lounging about in the manor. In general, just causing no trouble and Bruce just turns to Alfred, all worried like, "Is he sick? I don't think children are supposed to behave this way."

[zosanbrainrot]

Current thought is just… Zoro, covered in blood, holding his child Chopper

always here for a blood covered Zoro!!

[clanborn]

song number 10 :)

I left my soul exposed

To frail hands who hold

My fate up in the air

And through their fingers fall

The meaning of it all

Down to the floor it goes

Is There Anybody Here? - The Dear Hunter

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

Hey hey hey may 31th anon! How's 2024 going? ☆ヾ(*´▽｀)ﾉ This year I have for you a leaked Sherlock season 5 image. Thinking of you!! And everyone!!

[bottomcyclonus]

My sister is a total cunt and around when we were kids, 12 (her) and 15 (me), she became a really big fan of that Jesus guy, but in a ‘if you wear lipstick that’s TOO red you’re clearly a whore who is doing naughty things with the devil’ and ‘all “dark” animals like black cats, snakes, rats, spiders, and bats were sent by the devil himself”. W e had an older home, and the way it was set up is that one of our vents had a chute that went over the porch, and you could look down it and see basically right over the porch itself. This is relevant because I, at the time, really wanted a cat and our parents were considering it. However, cheese cunt (my nickname for her which she hated <3) saw me looking at an adoption page for a black cat. She absolutely lost it and said that I was trying to bring the devil into our home and that I was going to hell and that that cat was evil and going to claw out my eyes in my sleep. We got in a BIG fight over that. By the time we moved out there were still puncture marks in the wall from where she went at me with a fork. Back to the porch and vent. Kind of. I _needed_ to get this bitch, so I recruited two of my good friends who I knew would be ready to commit a fuckery. One of them had a pet snake (which I think she found in her yard and abducted adopted) and she fed him frozen mice and whatnot. Obviously we weren’t going to involve her snake, but the frozen mice? Those were fair game. Her job was to bring the mice and help behind the scenes. My other friend, he’s a big guy, intimidating if you don’t know him, *his* job was to be the devil. We’d found a dead bat in my attic (again old house) and made it look alive with popsicle sticks, then tied it to a string wound through the vent. We planned the fuckery for when our parents were staying at a hotel for their anniversary, so we were home alone all weekend. We had a pizza box as bait outside, with the frozen mice inside arranged in a pentagram. My guy friend was dressed up in a stereotypical grim reaper outfit, big black cloak, white ghoulish face, lantern, the works. We waited around until night, then he rang the door bell and hid, with the pizza box left on the porch, just far out enough that you would have to step outside. Me and my friend were in the bathroom when then happened so that my sister would have to go look. In reality, she was waiting above, ready with the bat, and I was hiding behind the garage door, which was right next to our front door. The moment I hear my sister let go of the door I gently closed it and locked it on her. I heard her scream and the sound of her dropping the pizza box, which was my friends cue to drop the bat on her and dance it around. At this point she’s freaking out and trying to get back inside, screaming and shrieking. I turn off the porch light, and from the shadows across the street, emerges my friend, face dimly lit by the lantern in his hand. I had to muffle my laughter with my fist in my mouth cause my sister is yelling like she’s going to die, which yeah, I can see her thinking that. All my friend had to do was walk across the street and point at her to get her to start crying, and she bolted into our backyard, where she tried to get in through the back door that was unfortunately for her, locked, courtesy of me. We made her stay out there for an hour or so, giving us time to put everything back to normal and sober ourselves up from laughing so hard. Then I let her back in and acted like I didn’t know anything. We got the cat and I named him Pizza.

THIS IS A TRANSFORMERS BLOG

[hawktims]

Hawk kissing Tim's forehead.

FELLOW TRAVELERS (2023)

[oifaaa]

Your little Jason's face is so squishable

[choccy-milky]

congrats on baby #2!🥰👍 part 2 to this post bc seb is a smug ass bitch when it comes to getting clora pregnant. and ty @rednite-dork for sending me the original pic ages ago LMFAO... i knew as soon as i saw it that i had to redraw it eventually 👼

[ashipiko]

LOVE IS STORED IN THE. WAFFLES? I THINK.

[cutie-lumi]

Cosmic 💐🌟

[blindmagdalena]

I’m so sorry Amy this is NASTY but from the moment I saw the chest fuzz on HL my first thought was how sensitive it would make the nips when fucking cause of the texture

18+ homelander x reader. boob stuff, body hair appreciation, overstimulation, flying sex, cream pie. never apologize to me i will always make it nastier. 🖤

At first the brush of it is divine. It wrings a gasp from low in the back of your throat, has you kneading the taut muscles of his back while he pounds into you. Homelander's body hair isn't overly coarse, but it hardly matters when his chest is pressed flush to yours, his lips on your throat.

You feel his every huff and whimper more than you hear them. They pair perfectly with the desperate grip he has on your hips, holding you in place with his whole body as he fucks you against the ceiling.

Now the grind of his chest against yours is beginning to take a toll. You shiver with his every move, growing more and more tender with the friction. Your cunt quivers tight around his cock and he stifles a hot moan into the crook of your neck.

His cock, more thick than long and nicely curved, strokes that sweet spot inside you that strikes stars behind your eyelids with every snap of his hips. You fist your hand in his hair and pull until his lips meet yours.

"Fuck," he gasps against your lips, threads of saliva snapping between your hungry mouths. "You drive me fucking crazy."

"Don't blame me for that," you respond breathlessly, licking right back into his mouth. "You were there when I got here."

He grins, giving a ravenous little growl and a sharp thrust. "Fine. Crazier."

The two of you climax like that, entwined and floating high off the ground, your ascension halted only by the height of the ceiling. Only once the aftershocks fade out does Homelander begin to sink back down to the bed. You feel as if you're in the clouds, floating on euphoria and his warm, soft body.

Still trembling, you lift yourself up. This is how you had started; astride him, riding him until the wild bucks of his hips had lifted you both up, up, up.

You smooth your hands down your own chest, goosebumps erupting everywhere. You give his pec a slap, the thwap of it dulled by the padding of hair. "You rug burned my whole chest," you chastise, though your tone is colored by your smile.

He sucks in a breath, contemplating the condition of your skin as he blows out a raspberry. He cups your breasts in gentle hands and pushes them together and up, meeting the pearl-soft flesh of them with his lips. He kisses apologies all over each one, flicking his tongue over your nipples for the way you gasp and tug his hair when he does.

His spent cock, still buried deep inside you, throbs valiantly as he sucks one breast into his mouth, tonguing your nipple in slow circles. You shudder and grind down in retaliation, the both of you hyper-sensitive, moving leisurely against one another as your satiation passes and the need for more grows.

You ride him slow and deep until he comes again. You rub your clit to the feel of his mouth on your chest and his come dripping out of you until you, too, orgasm, the tight spasm of your cunt reducing the most powerful man in the world to a simpering mess between your thighs.

The two of you untangle your limbs only to jigsaw right back together, his back to your sensitive chest, your arms around him, fingers scratching through the very hair you complained about.

"I could start waxing again," he says, words lazily slurring together.

"Don't you dare," you murmur, nuzzling the spot just behind his ear, kissing the shell of it. He interlaces his fingers with yours, squeezing your hand to his chest. "You're perfect as is."

You don't need to see him to know he's smiling. You feel it in the slant of his lips when he presses the back of your hand to them.