#and i’ll be the one to give it to him

[diorgirl444]

“dallas winston would be a bad boyfriend” “dallas winston wouldn’t care about you” that may be true for you but i’m literally playing with his hair as we speak

[zorangezest]

give us a smile, everyone!

[doctorsiren]

ford please help your brother 😭

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF Phone guy was wild for saying that to Michael..

[rystiel]

that annoying moment when getting left for dead in the trunk of a car in your 20s comes back to haunt you 40 years later (take a shot every time ford says “stanley”)

[stealingyourbones]

Everyday I exist and every day I get more and more exhausted seeing the “lol Batman looks at Danny and goes “who’s gonna adopt this kid” He’s so adoptable!” posts.

[kenneth-black]

Just thinking about Evan Buckley with a baby 🙃

[fanfic-gremlin-ft-trauma]

Hugs bc these boys deserve one

[hungharrington]

what about jealous steve…

ok it’s not quite jealous steve, more like possessive steve but that’s cos i half wrote it and then came back and i’m not wasting precious writing <3 ok mwah as always, MDNI THIS ENTIRE BLOG IS 18+

You and Steve split up for all of 10 minutes before he’s back at your side, one hand sliding into your back pocket, kissing the side of your head in hello.

The kiss burns lightly where it's pressed into your hair. The usual party music dwindles in the background, playing from the other room.

“Hey sweetheart,” He murmurs, voice all low.

He ducks his head low to press another kiss to your skin, this time against the heat of your neck. You squirm at the sudden attention and smile apologetically at your friend, almost flustered, and turn to him.

“Hi,” You smile up at him through your lashes. “What’s that special greeting for?”

“Nothin’,” Steve hums, smiling back, even as his hand in your pocket gives a little squeeze. He’s got that flush he always gets after one or two beers, colouring his face.

He gives you a little tug sideways, towards him. “C'mon, I wanna talk to you.”

You huff a laugh but follow him all the same, leaving with a quick wave to your friend over your shoulder. Steve’s hand slips from your back pocket to tangle with your hand and he leads you through the living room and out to the hallway. Doors line it and Steve seems to know exactly where he’s heading.

“Sure,” You laugh a bit, on the adoring side. “We totally came to this party so we talk to each other—“ Steve pushes through one of the doors, revealing an empty bedroom. “— in an empty bedroom.”

Behind you, the door snips shut. Steve turns and steals a glance at the drink in your hand, plucking it from you without any warning.

“Hey!” You say, as he puts it down on a surface behind him. “I was drin—oh,”

In one fluid motion, Steve steps in and backs you up against the door, one hand settling on your waist. The other curls beneath your chin, cradling your jaw and you barely get a moment to gasp before his lips are on yours.

Hot and desperate, Steve kisses you like you’re a feast for him to devour— fierce kisses, little nips, adoring little noises as he finally gets his lips on you like he’s been dreaming of all night.

You make a soft noise in your throat, a sound of appreciation. Your hands travel up to rest on his chest, fingers twining around the collar of his polo.

Pulling back, Steve’s delighted to see you already look a little messy — your lips pinker than normal, your eyes wider, darker.

“Really?” He asks, his voice low and teasing. Steve leans in and kisses your neck again, in the same place he did put in the living room. His breath is hot against your skin when he murmurs against your skin? “You didn’t think we’d end up here?”

Something in the gravel of his tone makes your back arch, something warm thrumming within you as Steve begins to suckle the skin of your neck. Fuck, you think, beginning to pant, Of course he’s going for a hickey.

“I- uh,” Your voice is already soaked in a sigh, your fingers clenching over his shoulders tightly as pleasure begins to drool through your core.

Steve continues before you can even answer his first question. His hand on your waist moves, shifting down til he’s grabbing at the apex of your thigh. His fingers dig into the swell of your ass, cupping it so he can pull you forward — right as his thigh slots between yours easily.

“You think i could come to these parties,” He breathes, moving your hips for you. “with you, looking this fucking hot,” You pant beneath him. “and not need to leave a mark?”

Following his word true, his hot mouth reattaches to your neck, sucking with fervor this time. His hand on your ass moves and finds its place in your back pocket again, squeezing and dragging your hips forward once more.

The other shifts down squeeze at your chest, his deft fingers rubbing over your nipple with eased practice. You moan prettily, rutting down against the denim, the friction downright sinful.

Your hands have a mind of their own, still moving up, and now they twist into the hair at the nape of his neck. Steve’s moves on to a new spot on your neck now, further down, and you’re helpless to do anything but let him.

Something in your cunts throbs at the possessiveness. You could very happily do this all night. The ambience of the party just behind the door slips away almost completely.

Steve pulls back after a couple of minutes, lips sheened with spit, his hair a mess from how you’ve been dragging your hands through it. His heavy eyes drag slowly from your marked up neck down to where you’re still grinding onto his thigh. His cock thickens in his jeans.

“Fuck,” He sighs, the sound rough in his throat. He moves his other hand down so he’s holding your hips, dragging your hips forward at his own, controlled pace. You nudge against his hard on with every motion.

“You don’t do this for anyone else, do you?” He asks, a dash of a smirk on his face. Smug. Possessive. Adored with you. You shake your head, each of your breaths lilted with a moan.

“Just you,” You say, knowing what he wants to hear. You know your boyfriend, so you know exactly why he’s pulled you in here and marked up your neck— and it only fuels your lust. “Only you, Steve,”

Steve’s cock twitches in his pants, his breath catching in his throat.

“God, fuck this party,” He mutters, diving in to capture your lips with his. You’re both so riled up, the kiss strong and hungry from both sides.

He breaks the kiss but doesn’t pull back, forehead pressed against yours. “Let’s ditch this place. I can’t let you go out there looking like this.”

You huff a laugh but are inclined to agree. “You’re the one who made me like this.”

“I know,” Steve says. “But now I might be giving people ideas.”

That makes you laugh— the perplexity of his reasoning. Boy logic, you suppose. Your arms around his neck tug him closer, stealing a kiss.

“Better get me home then, huh?”

Steve grins, knowing exactly what’s waiting at home—and kisses you with the promise of what’s to come.

[jellydragons]

been watching a lot of hermitcraft recently and am happy to report that i am hopelessly endeared by these little goobers 💕 they’re like bugs to me

close ups under the cut!

gonna be real this was absolutely just me taking the opportunity to get my grubby lil mitts all up in their character designs lol i heart interpreting mc skins

[lylethewaterguy]

Slides my crack ship across the table for your approval

[welcometothedaddyissuescult]

quite honestly if bruce doesn’t want to kill the joker, the best way for him to deal with him and ensure he never hurts anyone ever again is to build an underground one room bunker that’s soundproof and made of lead in the middle of the sahara or the amazon, drop his ass inside with like 100ish years worth of supplies, weld the door shut, and then walk away. he never tells anyone what he’s done and he never writes it down anywhere. that information lives only in his head because he knows no one will ever be able to torture that information out of him. i think the only person he might have to give a vague heads up to is superman. because if clark sees a underground bunker made of lead he’s definitely checking it out. so, i think bruce would just be like

bruce: hey, clark, just so you know there is an underground bunker in the middle of the amazon and it’s made of lead and it contains the most dangerous thing on the planet. it must never be opened.

and because it’s clark, he would be like: do you know what exactly is inside it?

bruce: yes.

clark: and to keep the world safe, i just have to do nothing and ignore it?

bruce: yes.

clark: okay.

eventually everyone would forget about the joker and on his deathbed, he’d tell dick about the bunker and dick would tell jason. together dick and jason would go and pry it open and just see a very old joker laying in his bed still laughing and without blinking jason would just shoot him in the head, they would reseal the bunker, leave, and never discuss it again.

but that will never happen because of bruce’s dogmatic and immovable morality. he will always catch the joker, he will always give him a trial, and he will always send him back to arkham. but if i got control of dc comics i would make him do this.

[ohitslen]

Something other about his eyes

Bonus! Based on this quick thing I did this afternoon and the idea took a bit more shape and turned into that thing from above uEK

[dathen]

Astarion is so silly about his love for the other group members. He’ll comment on them in the most sarcastic, mocking voice ever, then WOOPS slips in that he’s being sincere. “OOoOOoh Lae’zel is ~breaking her chains~. I’m proud of her!!”

GET ATTACHED, IDIOT

[amoritasart]

Don’t meet your heroes?

I like the idea of Philip taking odd jobs to survive before finally deciding on slaughtering everyone.

[silentheiss]

Shen Qingqiu laughs breathlessly as the corpse of Black-Eyed Vapor Puma falls soundlessly by his feet. He is windswept, rosy-cheeked and so beautiful Liu Qingge’s heart breaks, pieces itself back together and then breaks again.

“Shidi!” Shen Qingqiu jumps over the disfigured body easily and comes to stand beside him. “That was magnificent. You truly are an artist!”

If Liu Qingge was an artist he’d be painting Shen Qingqiu’s portraits and writing him sonnets. But all he can do is kill, and, for some cruel twist of fame, Shen Qingqiu seems to like it when Liu Qingge kills.

His fascination with all things ugly makes Liu Qingge want to tear his soul out and present it to his shixiong. Maybe he’ll like it, too.

“Do you think his partner is nearby? They tend to travel in pairs. It’s not quite a mating season yet, but who knows?”

Liu Qingge looks around the clearing. It’s void of anything at all. They’re alone.

“If it had a partner we’d see it by now.”

“Yes, Liu-shidi, you must be right.” Shen Qingqiu looks around, too.

His gaze inevitably circles back to Liu Qingge and his eyes turn brigs and mischievous for a moment. Then, he reaches out and his slim fingers graze against Liu Qingge’s hair. When he takes his hand back there’s a rumpled flower in between his fingers.

“My shidi can’t help being beautiful even in the middle of the fight. He even acquired a hairpiece.”

Liu Qingge breaks.

“Don’t do this to me.” He whispers, eyes falling close and breathing getting faster. “Please, shixiong, don’t.”

He doesn’t dare look, but he hears a soft, questioning noise.

“Don’t do what, shidi?”

“Don’t call me beautiful.”

“But you are?”

He doesn’t understand. He refuses to see how his words cut Liu Qingge like a knife.

“Just don’t.”

There’s silence. Then:

“Shidi. Won’t you look at me?”

Liu Qingge can do little else. He opens his eyes.

“Shidi is beautiful. He is strong, too, and brave. He is a good friend. He makes my days brighter.”

Liu Qingge lets out a thin whine and can’t even bring himself to be embarrassed about it.

“This master won’t stop saying truthful things, even if he risks to make shidi feel embarrassed.”

“Not embarrassed.” Liu Qingge swallows.

“Then what is it?”

He wants to tell him. He wants to tell him so much, but he’s weak and terrified, and-

“You’re smart.” Liu Qingge says. “Figure it out.”