#abt ab

[kotaka-kun]

surprised my partner with a Stardew Valley themed birthday party yesterday :)

She's been obsessed with the latest update since it dropped for the Switch -- our console of choice to play it on -- and had mentioned that it's release being in November was like an early birthday present, and my brain went !!!

(I had been considering it since the update dropped, but I wasn't sure how well it would work out, since she's scheduled to work on her bday, and our friends have unpredictable schedules...)

So I really only had 3 days to plan and execute this party idea, two of which she was at home with me all day, so keeping it as a surprise was sooo hard, but I managed it! 😉

I worked on the decor and games/prizes in the early hours of the morning (grateful that she sleeps in on her days off) and put it all up the morning of.

She was very surprised and very excited 😁 Our friends that came over in the evening also had a great time, and honestly, I'm so relieved it went so well ☺️☺️

[hinamie]

Another blog noticed that Megumis scars are on the same position as Heian!Sukuna. And it's true! By that logic he should have scars under his armpits and on his belly (second arms and second mouth). You drawing it would be interesting

shoutout 2 megumi for making up fr all of yuuji's scars i no longer get to draw

[jess-tra]

more of my swap au.. hi siffrin!!! hi!!!!!!!

first au post

[slasherscream]

Hello Bee! First I want to say that I really love your writing and your characterization of the characters. I've read so much of your stuff over and over again, it's so good! Thank you so much for writing it all!

Secondly, I wanted to make a request. Sorry if this sounds dumb, but could you please make a crazy ass husbands with an artisitic s/o? Like someone who may not necessarily create art, but is really passionate about like painting, and music, and just all the types of art? I saw you added Vincent Sinclair and thought of this 😄.

If not its fine, I still want you to know that I adore and enjoy your writing! Well wishes! 🩷🩷

Qimir (the acolyte) - Qimir likes the way you get carried away by music. The way you close your eyes when you walk into a cantina and musicians are playing. The little songs you hum to yourself when you’re piloting the ship, or fixing something. Music awakens something in your soul. You feel it deeply. Love songs and tragic laments alike light a fire in you. Every now and again he’ll have the two of you go to planets known for their music, their unique sounds, and singing styles. It’s always under a false pretense. The training or mission he sends you on are usually extra grueling before you’re given your “reward”. Otherwise, he feels like a slave to the whims of your joy. What wouldn’t he do to see you smile? To relish your little gasp the first time you hear a new instrument or song? He likes to reach out, using the connection you two share, and feel what you feel. He’s so glad he freed you from your shackles of repression. The way you indulge your passion is beautiful. 

Norman Bates - You’ve always loved flowers. The first thought you had about the motel was that it needed some nice flowers outside. You’ve traveled the country, visiting all sorts of gardens. It’s an odd hobby, but one you chased relentlessly. Until you met Norman, and settled into the hotel with him. But eventually you start to crave those gardens again, so you decide for the first time not to just admire gardens, but to cultivate one. There are a few false starts. Miserable failures. Mixed successes. But Norman is encouraging every step of the way, and eventually your little motel begins to shine. Ivy creeping up trellises you place against the house. Roses, peonies, lavender, poppies. All in ranges of colors and sizes. You repaint the motel when it begins to look shabby in comparison to the garden blooming around it. For the first time the motel starts to look… welcoming. Like a true home. People in town begin to stop by and spend the night just so they can have breakfast in the garden the next morning. People propose to each other at the Bates Motel. Get married there. Honeymoon. Have the celebrations for their baby’s christening among all your flowers and saplings. Norman doesn’t have a green thumb, but he brings you lemonade and kisses your cheek and thanks you earnestly for bringing color and life into his world. 

Hannibal Lecter - This is one of the ways you and Hannibal bond. You could talk about art for hours together. He’s a wonderful conversationalist, and your raw passion for the topic makes it so that you always have something new to say to one another. Date nights consist of going to art galleries for big and small artists. Something about being in one another’s presence sweetens the art itself. Hannibal often surprises you with trips to other countries just so you can go to their art museums and partake in new art scenes. Money is a small thing to Hannibal. The conversations you have about art? Those are priceless. 

Shane Walsh - He’s never been too interested in the arts. Not before the end of the world and certainly not after it. The only art that matters now is the art of survival. He tells you this often. Tells you to look to the future. Focus on surviving the day. On perfecting the skills he tries to teach you, day in and day out, so even if he’s gone, you’ll be okay. But you make him soft. For all that he bitches, he’s always giving in. Always looking to keep you alive, yes. But he wants you to be happy too. So he takes detours, and looks for libraries and bookstores that are beginning to cave in on themselves and smell of rotten pages and wood. He’s risked entire hoards of walkers to retrieve a book he knew was your favorite. He doesn’t mind when precious bag space is taken up by whatever paperbacks you can get your hands on. One day he might find a town that he likes enough and decide to go through the trouble of turning a library into a home for you. It will be well fortified, and he won’t like how many entry and exit points it might have. But he’d love to see you in your element, surrounded by what you love. 

V (from V for Vendetta) - So much art has been ruthlessly crushed beneath the boot of the fascist government you live under. Admiring the arts, any form of it, is like trying to hold sand in your hands. Your grip grows ever more desperate to hold onto anything. But there is no rhyme or reason to what is outlawed or taken away. Little bits of your soul are chipped away, with each new restriction, with each new burning or banning. Until V whisks you away to his hideout, and suddenly the world is made anew again. You are surrounded by art, art you didn’t even know existed. Things you couldn’t imagine in your wildest dreams. You inhale everything the gallery has to offer. You feel nearly gluttonous. In each room there is something new to see, hear, read. A feast for your senses anywhere you turn. You feel alive for the first time in years, maybe ever. V, in turn, feels his own form of gluttony. He cherishes every bit of delight he brings to your world. He feels like the worst kind of miser. The lowest of villains. What could be more precious than your smile? Or your laughter? Nothing. And by keeping you here, with him, he deprives the world of you and all you have to offer. But the world isn’t kind to precious things. So he keeps you like all the other treasures of this world. Hidden. Safe. Loved. 

Candyman - You collect book nook shelf inserts. Your home is covered in shelves, just to fit them. You have more book nooks than you do books separating them. Daniel is charmed to death by the collection. By the tender, diligent way you take care of them all. You spend hours of your week dusting. Fiddling. Making tiny adjustments. There must be something meditative about it, because you never complain. The joy he felt whenever he held a paintbrush is the same joy that flashes across your face when you open a new kit. He watches you assemble your precious, miniature worlds and ask you quiet questions, every now and again. He doesn’t want to break you from the beautiful trance you fall into, but he loves to peek into your mind. “What drew you to this scene, my love?” / “This one has an enchanting gloom to it. You have such an eye for art.” / “This one looks especially fragile, you might have to be more gentle, love.” He enjoys watching you lose yourself in your hobby. He loves the way you are unashamed in your joy. How you take pride in this work. You curl up into his side, after you’ve spent hours assembling one of your nooks, and the two of you will stare at it in all its completed glory. 

Robert Neville (I Am Legend) - At first he thought you were a hallucination. He’d been hearing things more often. Seeing things too. The human mind wasn’t built for isolation, as a scientist he was well aware of that. He tries to compensate as best he can. With his mannequins. With entertainment. By focusing on his research. He only has to stay sane long enough to fix the world he couldn’t save. That’s all. But then he sees you, while he’s hunting. The sun is still high in the sky, and you don’t move like a dark seeker. You’re cautious, slow. You also don’t move like a hallucination. You don’t really look like one either. He almost doesn’t approach you, afraid he’ll discover you were a mirage. He follows you all day long, until the sun is getting too low for comfort. Then Robert approaches you, fumbling through the obvious (it isn’t safe out here), barely remembering to introduce himself because people have names. Hoping desperately that you’ll trust a strange man instead of taking your chances with the dark. But the entire time he talks to you his eyes keep drifting to all the jewelry you’re wearing. Earrings. Bracelets. Necklaces. Rings. They glint in the light. Hypnotizing in their imperfections and intricacies. You move into his home, but you two drift around each other like ghosts. You’ve been alone so long, the both of you. You dreamed of meeting another living person. But faced with the reality of it, you’re overwhelmed. Until one night after dinner he finds you in the living room, making more of your jewelry. Slow and careful. He asks you about it, and you tell him it kept you sane while you were alone. Made you feel human. Then you look up at him, and he freezes under your gaze. (It’s been so long since he’s looked into someone’s eyes. It almost hurts. He can’t imagine ever looking away.) You ask him what kept him human. He’s not sure he still is. But he moves to sit beside you on the floor, hands you beads, and tells you he's been pretty fond of movies lately. 

Lestat De Lioncourt - You were a tailor in life, before he turned you. In death, in this eternity he’s given you, fabric is nearly your religion. With your vampiric eyes, you see even the tiniest flaw in stitching. All colors look more vibrant. The world looks more alive. Even though you can never see the way certain fabrics and colors catch the light of the sun, moonlight and starlight can be just as beautiful. You drag him to fashion shows in order to soak in the new styles, and cuts of clothing. You are as endeared by couture as you are the various counter cultures that arise throughout the decades you spend together. You spend exorbitant amounts of money on the finest bolts of cloth and thread. Sewing and tailoring and designing can be done entirely on your own. In fact, you’d probably be done quicker if you were just left to your work. But Lestat gets lonely when you lock yourself up in your work room for days on end. He likes to drape himself against your back, push himself into your side. Trail teasing fingers up your arm, to see if he can get your ever steady hands to falter (he cannot.) Looking over your shoulders and seeing what latest fashion has caught your eye is his hobby. You don’t mind the company of your muse. Sometimes you even sit him in front of you as you sew, and let the sound of him talking guide your needle and thread. He hardly wears anything you don’t make. Not only is your work superior, but every piece is made of love. 

Abe Sapien - You love everything about movies. How they’re made. Sound design. Light design. Set design. The difference between digital and film cameras. Abe was caught in your orbit the minute you were recruited. Talking to you, trying to form a connection, however, did not come as easy. Awkward nods as you passed one another in the hall. Stilted, dry conversation as you ate lunch at the same tables. It was enough to drive him mad. He didn’t know why he alone was unable to form any sort of acquaintanceship with you (especially when he wanted far more than that). This all changed during movie night. You were watching the voted on film play out on screen, entranced by every individual frame, it seemed. He’d never seen anyone smile so fetchingly, or blink so little. He bravely, and quietly, asked if you were enjoying the film. You began to eagerly whisper to him all sorts of details about how the film was made, the difference between the final product and script. Apparently, it was one of your favorites. With one conversation, the bridge between you two was crossed. Abe had been so caught up in enjoying literature, he hadn't explored much of the diverse realm of cinema. Happily, you appointed yourself the esteemed position as his guide. Somewhere between sharing your tastes, late night discussions, and dry eyes from sleepless nights, you leaned over to kiss him. He kissed you back, and you both forgot all about movies for a little while. 

Vincent Sinclair - You were an avid admirer of sculptures. You went to museums, and had to curl your hands into fists to resist the urge to reach out and touch the statues. There was something so beautiful about someone taking the time to carve human shapes out of stone and earth. To make marble resemble fabric as delicate as silk. It was breathtaking to you, really. Until you came across the House of Wax, you hadn’t really thought of wax as a means to make sculptures. Instantly, you are captivated. You forget that your car is being “repaired”, so closely do you look at every sculpture. You admire each one from several angles, for long periods of time, face giving away nothing. Vincent watches you, wanting to know what you’re thinking about his art so desperately he feels as if he’ll die. He interrupts Bo from the preparations to kill you and makes him ask you questions. Bo asks each one through gritted teeth, irritated to be playing a game of telephone, but even he is a little charmed by your thoughtful answers. When Vincent insists on not killing you Bo just shakes his head and washes his hands of the situation. You fall asleep in the town’s only motel, but when you wake up you’re in Vincent’s workshop. You’ll be able to admire his art for as long as you like now. 

Joel Miller - You tell him stories. You’re an avid collector of them. Wherever you go, you collect a story from someone. Sometimes they’re fantastical. Some myth or aesop fables that will be lost to the sands of time and the chaos of the apocalypse within just one more generation (if humanity makes it that long.) Other times they’re heartbreakingly real. The taste of an apple pie someone’s grandmother used to make for them. The memory of someone trying on their wedding dress for the first time. You have a way about you. It’s your eyes. The warmth in them. The understanding. Even after so many years of survival and fighting, you possess an empathy that should have gotten you killed by now. Instead you’re the keeper of people’s stories. You’ll be riding side by side on your horses, and Joel won’t sense any danger nearby, so he’ll say the magic words: You got a story for me today, L/N? And you always do. The sound of your voice keeps his head quiet. 

A/N: i blushed bugs bunny curled ears style. thank you for the compliments, made my day! i think yours is the first crazy ass husbands gang request i’ve written! if you enjoyed these headcanons consider reblogging, leaving a reply, or an anon! a writer's fuel is engagement. Xoxoxo

[dirtyassvoiceactors]

Dorian gets offended/jealous Orym is talking about working out with Beau, so he tries to show off, Imogen calls him out on poor execution, so he just walks off to help Caduceus (who also quickly kinda roasts him) kkkkkkk

i need next episode to after Dorian and Orym wakeup together, Orym goes workout with Beau and have competitions, so the whole time is just Orym and Beau showing off to Dorian and Yasha, like doing push ups with them in their back or sm, doing upsidedown pullups

[festering-bacteria]

gay clone high propaganda post number one pillion..,i am so normal you guys

[notyixiangs]

we love a "shut up" / "make me" but consider: "start talking" / "make me"

as in like. proud character who refuses to talk about how they feel about the other because it's mortifying & makes them feel awfully exposed & everything they say are lies or half veiled truths or crafty clever words designed to circumvent honesty and it's so damn annoying that the other character finally snaps and forces them to start talking properly, pushes them until they cant think of any more schemes or poetic sardonicism or conniving comments to evade the truth, strips them of their mask to leave their vulnerabilities bare and bleeding & now all they can do is spill their thoughts & emotions out & spell out desire with unlacquered transparency

[diavoloinajar]

at least they got each other. (post ep6 pre ep8 doodle)

[eph9ria]

house of cards; rosquez edition

[kamurawaffles5684]

I LOVE IT WHEN PEOPLE DRAW HANCOCK WITH EARRINGS AND A BIT OF A TUMMY LIKE HSBDDBSBNSNSJSSNSNSN GIVE ME MOREEEEE IT MAKES SO MUCH SENSE

LIKE JUST LOOK AT HIM GOD DAMNIT IT MAKES SO MUCH FUCKING SENSE

[zyphnn]

originally part of a much bigger sketch page i’m gonna post eventually, but this was just such a cute post-canon troy that i had to share it with the world <3 abed’s filming him btw

[vcrnons]

「24H」 | SEVENTEEN 97z

[esmeraldablazingsky]

the only person in fontaine who i think should have visibly shredded abs is clorinde. look. listen. i have an essay

furina has maintained a performer’s figure for a long time but she’s more of an actress and singer than a dancer. she has the muscle tone of a macaroni noodle, and also her body composition is 80% pastry. but you know what we love her for that

navia is definitely deceptively strong for her hyper femme presentation. girlie puts in the work! shes not a gym rat tho. she has better things to do, and macarons to bake

wriothesley you could definitely make a case for more than the others, but also, consider this. he’s not a mangy half starved wolf anymore. he’s comfortable, he can get whatever he wants from the kitchen staff, he puts sugar in his tea. it’s not like he’s lost any of his combat edge but he doesn’t HAVE to be a lean mean fighting machine anymore, he has other strengths, and he likes it that way!

neuvillette is the world’s most pampered dragon. furina summoned him 400 years ago and proceeded to spend those 400 years ordering him premium water and making him do paperwork and try fancy foods with her. he does not want to go outside, except if it is to swim. you may not like it but this is the ideal sea-animal-guy body type (strong swimmer muscles smoothed over by a layer of squish, like a seal)

sigewinne is literally a marshmallow have you ever seen a ripped melusine I don’t think so. but that wasn’t in question, right?

clorinde though!! clorinde. duelist and bodyguard supreme, a well known figure whose athleticism is highly publicized. she doesn’t HAVE to have abs, but she’s definitely the fontaine character I would most readily believe does

[conanssummerchild]

dan harmon creating autistic characters and giving them a brownish green messenger bag

[pacifierpuppy]

There’s just something so, so special about diapers. I mean, I love every aspect of being babied, but diapers are the most important part.

When you first put them on, when they’re so crisp and pristine and brand new, they feel good. They feel clean, and safe, and cozy. The padding sliiiightly spreading your legs apart, the cushioning on your butt when you sit down, the crinkles to remind you how little you are. The thick padding helping absorb sensations, you can just start rubbing yourself and humping and it just…. There’s nothing like it. It’s like humping a pillow, but it’s attached to you. Just rubbing and rubbing and rubbing in bliss as you hear the crinkles telling you how futile it is. If this were the end of it I think I’d still love wearing them because they just start out so perfect.

But that’s not where it ends. Diapers were made to be used, and no matter how you choose to fill them, it’s always soooo much fun. When you’re holding your bladder to the point of failure, rubbing your crotch and the pressure and sensation make you leak a little bit. The warmth soaking up into the padding, surrounding your crotch as you leak more and more until you just give out and let it allllll flood into the diapers, swelling around you, the new thickness forcing your legs apart as you are forced to either waddle or crawl. The warmth surrounding you, unable to escape it as you feel the new, squishy texture all around your sensitive bits, easily conforming into the perfect shape to cradle them.

You can also just let go whenever, no holding at all, going whenever you feel the slightest twinge in your bladder. It’s freeing. You don’t have to care about stopping whatever your doing to use the restroom, you can just let it all slowly dribble out as your diaper ever so gradually inflates, until it’s eventually undeniable that you’ve been using it. Sloooowly leaking your warm pee until it’s that wonderful, squishy padding that you love.

Once it’s full, you can REALLY start rubbing it, feeling it squish around your crotch, when you hump into the squishy padding it’s like you really are fucking something, I’ve seen ppl cum hand free by just humping the air in their wet diapers, feeling the squishy padding move up and down along their shaft, perfect conformed to it, until they reach orgasm. It’s almost like a wearable fleshlight. But even if you don’t have a penis, or don’t like penetration, it still feels amazing to have that slick, slippery, warm padding rubbing against you. As you slowly get wet, leaking pre, that doesn’t get absorbed by the padding, in fact, the moisture from your accident helps keep it perpetually wet and slick, so it’s always just sooooooooo slick, sliding nicely around your most sensitive parts as you hump your brain away on your favorite plushy, or someone’s knee, or another cutie’s diaper.

Even when it slowly, slowly starts to grow cold, the cool, wet, squishy padding is exciting in its own way. It makes sure you can never forget what you’re wearing or what you’ve done. Maybe you leak more, briefly warning the padding around your crotch, but the cold can almost be refreshing in its own way,,,

And then you get to take it off, feel the cold air against your skin that’s been trapped in your own mess for so long. You get feel the cold baby wipes getting into every little area, making sure you’re nice and clean, before you get a new diaper slid under you. You’re tickled as the sweet smelling baby powder is applied, and it starts all over again as you’re wrapped up in fresh, new, crinkling padding.

Who wouldn’t want that?

[kitschyclown]

ive been at a community college for three days now and there have been no paintball games what is this