#You get me

[a-bucket-in-the-void]

absolutely vile winters family animatic idea brewing for forwards beckon rebound by adrianne lenker

villian and violent: mark

infant and innocence: ashe

baby both arms cradle you now: ashes parents holding baby ashe

both arms cradle you now: mark and ashe holding their dead wife and mother

[keferon]

Guys. Guys they’re miners. They’re tiny cogless miners. Guys

I blacked out and filled the whole three canvases with sketches of them being itty bitty goobers. Figured Imma show you some haha

[laurenkmyers]

going into the ao3 tag when ao3 is down is honestly the most validating experience ever.

[kyyuis]

finnick is masculine but in like a flashy peacock way and katniss is feminine but in like a wolf silently stalking after you crow watching from the trees cat slowly approaching way and that's why they're best friends

[iztea]

csm angel devil if he was not a devil 👼

[gravedigg]

hi. do you see my vision?

[plumadot]

"do the fungi ever try to make them do evil things" yeah they certainly try

(we're doing lore on the minecraft server) (the only lore i have is that i am plant and have a single brain cell and therefore i cannot be corrupted)

[erwinsvow]

shea please consider a drabble on shy!reader calling rafe ‘dad’ for the first time. AH I NEED

last one before bed.. ♡

it started off as a little joke, the word coming to mind because of the way rafe always talked to you, urging you to be more careful and looking out for you.

"put that shit away, c'mon. you'll be up all night and then you won't let me sleep either," he says, when you point in the direction of the coffee shop and pull out your wallet. he drags you away, a pout taking over your pretty face.

"okay, dad," you tease, though it doesn't come out like a joke this time. it comes out sincerely, agreeing immediately, putting your wallet away even though you don't want to.

"yeah, that's right. listen to dad." you stop in your tracks, a few feet away from rafe's truck, brain starting to go haywire and fuzzy. rafe stops and turns, looking back at you stuck in place. "hm?"

"dad?" you question, repeating it, enjoying the feel of it on your tongue. rafe smiles at you, smirking and laughing, so you smile too. you don't know that you've just created a monster.

"yes?" he asks, stalking towards you and taking your face into his hands. "don't go stupid on me now, kid."

"sorry, dad. can't help it." you feel uncomfortable, wetness pooling between your legs, heart thudding fast. maybe it was wrong, maybe it was weird, but you didn't care in that moment.

"get in the truck," rafe orders, and you comply, darting back to the door and hand on the handle to open the passenger side door. "nope. the back. wanted a treat right? dad's gonna give it to ya."

[seijorhi]

haikyuu ice hockey just ignited something in me (probably bc ice hockey is the only sport i actually understand)

but it offers so much room for yandere v yandere drama. like, you're actually allowed to FIGHT in hockey (well, not allowed, but it's generally considered to be part of the sport.)

idk, it amuses me to think of a yandere player(cough oikawa cough) who's so insanely devoted to his sport, almost ruin his career by cracking the jaw of a player from another team who his darling started fucking/dating.

like she very unexpectedly dumped him right before the season started (when he didn't have the time or focus to spare to get her back) bc he was being weird and posessive, and it just gets harder and harder to watch the gossip tabloids and sports magazines spread rumors about his ex girlfriend finding new love. of course he was gonna crack.

(bonus points if he knows this other player (maybe they were on the same team growing up) and the other player is half getting with yn to piss the yandere off)

sorry for the ramble! i love your work!

ooh see i can definitely roll with ice hockey captain oikawa's girlfriend getting so sick of his jealous, possessive bullshit that she dumps him.

there's no denying he's irritated as fuck that you chose to wait until the new season starts, but he's not going into panic mode or anything. it's fine.

you can go a few dates, have your fun. oikawa's pretty sure those assholes won't be sticking around long after he brings some of his teammates along to have a nice, friendly chat with them–

(they don't have to know that he won't actually follow through on those threats to beat their faces in. probably)

–just give him a few weeks to settle into the season.

—

this wasn't technically a part of the plan.

there wasn't even a plan, until the guy you'd spend a good two drinks flirting with suddenly realised why you looked familiar, and all but high-tailed it out of there like the devil himself was at his heels.

it hasn't helped matters that your annoyingly persistent ex keeps sending you flowers – at work, at home, day after day, just so everyone in your life knows that broken up or not, oikawa still considers you his.

bullshit. it's such bullshit.

you suppose you can't blame some random guy for not wanting to get on the bad side of an ice hockey champ.

it's then, somewhere around the bottom of your third drink of the night, that the solution to your problems occurs to you.

sure, a normal, average guy might be intimidated by your ex, but you know plenty of players who'd jump at the chance. not necessarily to fuck you (you're not looking for an honest to god relationship here), but to fuck with oikawa? an opportnity to put a crack into that asshole's attitude? oh yeah.

there's a few players oikawa hates more than the shirtless blond currently draped over your shoulder, snapping what is very clearly a post-fuck selfie of the two of you to upload to his millions of followers. admittedly, kageyama probably would've worked better, if the thought of using him like that – even with his knowledge and explicit agreement – didn't leave you feeling strangely dirty, and ushijima... just no. god, you're not sure you'd even be able to get the words out, much less hold your nerve to wait for an answer.

but miya atsumu? the cocksure, arrogant as fuck (hot as hell), loudmouth winger who's got a special talent for pissing off his opponents? he'll do nicely.

—

he's gonna kill him.

oikawa's gonna fucking kill him. he'll take the penalty, take the loss, the suspension, whatever.

the moment that puck hits the ice, miya atsumu's fair game, and oikawa's going to beat his stupid, smug fucking face in.

[letitbehurt]

It’s a good day to grab Whumpee by the hair and shove their head underwater.

[cheesecakethots]

The soft smile on Chrollo’s lips quickly forms into a smirk. He debates whether he should reveal himself yet, but decides against it, leaning against the doorframe with his arms crossed. You’re too cute for your own good.

You’re too busy checking yourself out in the mirror to notice his presence, wearing that dark black coat that’s usually on him. It’s much too long for you, scraping against the floor with each little turn you do.

He sighs, seating himself on the sofa on the opposite side of the room. Might as well get himself comfortable, as this is ten times more entertaining than anything he’s ever seen.

You spin around, probably to watch the coat twirl with you, but mid-spin you catch sight of him and almost topple over.

He’s watching you with a fist propping his chin up, eyes soft and relaxed, and the sight has your chest feeling constricted.

You press a hand over your beating heart, panting a little while embarrassment settles in your bones. God, he’ll never let you live this down. He had told you he was out for the day, you didn’t expect him to be back until much later, the lying bastard.

“You- You could’ve said you were there!”

Chrollo chuckles, his tone as gentle as always, “But why would I interrupt such a lovely moment? You seemed to be enjoying yourself, my dear.”

Despite the innocence in his words, you can practically smell the smugness wafting off of him.

“Don’t read too much into it!” You blabber out, quickly shrugging the admittedly comfy coat off of your shoulders, “I was just curious, okay? It looked super warm.”

He grins, “Curious?”

Fucking asshole.

You take off the coat, holding it up to him, “You can have it back. It reeks of you anyway, I don’t want it.”

The spider doesn’t say anything or even move from his seat, instead simply raising an eyebrow in a playful manner, and lifting a hand up as a signal for you to come over and pass it to him.

Your eyes narrow. “Nuh-uh. You come get it. I’m not your maid.”

His smile widens. “While I must admit the imagery of you in said uniform is… pleasing, I’m not treating you as such. I’m comfortable here, and you’re the one who got it out, aren’t you, darling?”

The gaze that’s locked onto you is full of amusement, and two of his fingers beckon you forward.

With a glare and eventual sigh, you move closer, still holding the coat out. “There, you can grab it now, you laz- ah!” Your words are cut off when his hand reaches out like some snake attempting to wrap around helpless prey, latching onto your arm and tugging you into his lap. He catches the coat that slips out of your hands, holding it up with one for you to see.

“There, now I have it.”

“You pervert!” You cry out, legs kicking to no avail. The man laughs, unwavered by your petty struggles as he lays a hand to rest atop one of your thighs and leans closer so that he can whisper in your ear, “Oh, if only you knew.”

His mouth quickly lands on your neck, laying passionate kisses down it. You feel your face grow hot, especially when a quiet moan leaves him, his hands holding you all the more closer.

“Next time,” he murmurs, his voice deep and lustful, “you should consider wearing only the coat.”

You’re not sure if you want to slap the smirk off his face or kiss it.

[welcomingdisaster]

charmed by the idea of, like, 19-year-old fingon out on the town with 11-year-old turgon like "hey! a column... is that the kind of column you like" and turgon like "ugh no that's corinthian 🙄 don't tell anyone you like those, those are lame"

[hellsite-hall-of-fame]

coward

yes

[asurrogateblog]

sometimes I get the sense that paul wants someone to catch him in the lie. what I mean is, he covers things up -just- enough for plausible deniability (which, really, tends to be more than enough in such a heteronormative society), but as we can see pretty clearly, he doesn't really seem to put that much effort into hiding the meaning of his lyrics. he doesn't need to, because 99% of people will assume it's platonic or about a woman, and when that 1% does start questioning him, he (and I quote) "can always just deny it" and end it there. but beneath that surface-level negation, I wonder whether subconsciously he hopes that someone will keep pushing him on it and talk him into a corner he can't get out of. it would allow him to come out without technically being the one to do it – getting outed but in a way that still feels under his control because he laid the trail for it. yet, after all these years and all these songs, no one has actually pushed him like that yet. maybe I'm just projecting, but I myself used to have this rule that I wouldn't come out to anyone who didn't directly ask me first. this led me to wait years longer than I should've to tell my parents, because they just wouldn't ask the question, and I was too stubborn to give in until they did. I wonder whether paul feels something similar but to a more extreme degree

[fernandopiastri28]

More of the many faces of Oscar Piastri

[tategaminu]

Isn't cute how Rayla's clothes has something similar to Katolis' diamond patterns? they are matching now 🥹