#and now this lmaooo

[tabooi]

The way the CB radio beeping is still in the background of Wide Smile in the London Revival... I love how Starlight Express cannot escape the ghost of CB

[everythingwasnormalhere]

pls rb if you think cuddling doesn't have to be s3xual

im tryna prove a point to my bf's mother help me out

[thirstywaffles]

Good morning 🌅

[pharriagehill]

walt disney who? (x)

[zph]

he can’t sleep without you. | roommate!scara x gn!reader.

in which you are both are roommates (gasp). and he cannot seem to have a good’s night rest without your warmth.

notes: clingy scara!!, profanity, mutual pining, one mention of innuendo but still sfw, scara is sort of like a cat that waits outside of the bathroom door, not profread

roommate!scara small hcs: here | masterlist

For someone so adamant about getting all his 8 hours of sleep, he sure as hell was too willing to lose it so easily.

With one hand begrudgingly wiping away the drowsiness from his eyes, he clenches the blanket closer in the other, shivering as the breeze hits his puffed cheeks and loose top that he carelessly slipped into the night before.

Scaramouche felt the heaviness weighing on his movement; his hair was no doubt disheveled, and his dark circles were already starting to pull underneath his bottom eyelids. Miserably, he tried to run his fingers through the strands, only to struggle when he was met with a particular knot...

In other words, he felt like complete shit.

…

Just where are you right now?

Squinting at the faint light peering through the corridor, he hears nothing but the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door.

Tossing his legs over the edge of the mattress, he briefly weighed his options:

Either pass out on the cold, hard ground

Watch the lost hours take a toll on his plummeting mood as he waits for you.

Neither which seemed possible nor pleasant to him.

God, are those his only alternatives? He drags a hand down his face, slipping on some fuzzy cat sandals (a gift, courtesy of you after convincing him that it was well worth the price only to see him lap around rocking cute merch, much to your amusement).

And his mind reels back at the thought of you.

…

A normal and sane person wouldn’t limp his way out of the bedroom; a normal and sane person wouldn’t take the time dragging his dwindling patience and weary feet towards a conveniently placed bathroom door; a normal and sane person would instead, hog the blankets and fall back to sleep...

…

Despite this, Scaramouche found himself at the mercy of the blazing light at the aforementioned conveniently placed bathroom door.

He scoffs. ‘A normal and sane person.’

With his blanket draped across the wooden tiled floor, his hand dug out from under the duvet before landing swift knocks on the wood.

1 knock.

Then 2.

Then finally, 3.

Scaramouche clenches the makeshift coat closer, shivering as he shoots glares at the door.

“Are you done?” Scaramouche grumbled before plummeting his head onto the door itself; a sense of exasperation flowing through him and by god, he hoped you could sense his desperation too. “Come back to bed, it is too cold.” His sense of shame would come back in the morning once he was more lucid. But right now, he just wanted to sleep.

And unfortunately, he also wanted you.

—

It started as a simple movie night: hiding within the cozy sheet of a small blanket, huddling closer for warmth, pressing up so close against each other. Even with the screen blaring on his face, the clear exhaustion from a movie marathon, he still found comfort in the way your fingers gently roamed and traced down his back then up to brush the hair sticking out from his neck. While his head rested comfortably at your shoulder, humming slightly to the background static.

This was becoming a regular occurrence:

You suggest a movie after watching him fumble around with his work, eyes nearly drooping after painstakingly looking at a computer all day, with coffee prepared in those branded ‘Best Employe of the Year’ mugs his company loves parade around. With one quick glance at his sad form, you were already coaxing him onto the couch for ‘just a few minutes’ until suddenly, he was cozied in pajamas and the blanket wrapped around him like some sort of makeshift hostage situation.

More and more, until he finds himself cuddling close to your form, his arms wrapped under the fabric of your waist, and your leg lifted onto his hip.

More and more, until he is the one to instead force you out of your chair and into watching a horror movie with him, sliding snacks he knows you’ll indulge in when he doesn’t see.

More and more, until he feels you wrap the blanket around him the next day, gently whispering a quick ‘good morning’ before quickly making a beeline to the bathroom in order to prepare for work.

But in your absence, his hand reaches out after you, eyes flat on the door: a fleeting acknowledgment and the longing to get you back into his arms.

It was maddening.

..So, this was no different.

Another excuse to press close against each other; the cold chill from that busted heater leaving you to fend for yourself with the only pair of a heated blanket until the next morning—bringing you to offer another movie.

This time, childhood classics.

“You know, we should sleep together,” you suddenly say, the rumbling from your chest awakening him.

He pauses, his head lifting from his spot. “Excuse me?”

“Like bed-sharing. Cuddling. Horizontally lying on a mattress. Together. Ever heard of the concept?” you chuckled. “What were you thinking about?”

He makes a face. “Absolutely nothing.” And he turns on his side, his back to your chest, away from your stifling laughter. “…Why are even asking in the first place?” comes out after a moment.

From the corner of his eye, he saw the way you stretched your arms out to release some of the tension from your body, then leaned your head on his shoulder. “We’ve been doing this for a while, yeah? I don’t know, heater is still kinda busted and I kinda don’t want to be alone right now.”

There was an extended pause in his reply.

Truthfully, there were little reasons to hate the arrangement and even fewer reasons to refuse it. In fact, with the way your chin comfortably sits on his skin, his mind was reeling with warmth despite the bitter cold biting his skin.

“No worries, the deal is still on the table so don’t feel pressured,” you smile up at him, taking his silence as a refusal. “I can go out to get-“

Then he cuts you off, huffing with amusement. “Sure, do what you want.”

And he leaves it at that, already scooting closer to your chest and comfortably making room in your arms.

But soon, he feels you gently intertwine your hands together, pulling the back of his to your lips. With your eyes glinting with fondness, you breathe in. “Thanks.” and before he can react, you were already pressing your face into the curve of his neck, contentment rolling off on you in waves.

…You were maddening.

—

For a moment, there was no other sound except the hum of the air conditioner and the shuffling of footsteps behind the bathroom door. Scaramouche sighs.

From being habitually conditioned into only sleeping by your side, he finds that the aftermath led up to whatever state he is in right now.

3:12 am. He checks once more. You were taking long. He embraces the cool chill, the blanket already half shallowing his body at this point, spilling to the bottom like some coat.

He probably looks ridiculous standing in front of the bathroom, tapping his foot, impatiently waiting for your return.

Like a cat, he could hear you say.

And as if you heard his increasingly humbling pleas, before long, the door peers open, shedding light on his poor eyes and through his rather tense squinting. Barely stepping foot into the room, you jump at the sight of your roommate—who, he would have guessed from your dumbfounded gasp and prolonged stare, you weren’t expecting to be up at this hour.

“…How long were you standing there?”

He only regarded you with the tilt of his head, his eyes narrowed at your form. “Long enough.” he murmured.

With your eyes doused with concern, he watched as you took one step towards him, reaching out to tug his hand back into your room. “Sorry, had to use the bathroom.” That was until you seemed to catch the odd blush on his face, dimmed light exposing his visage. He could almost sense your glee the moment you decide you weren’t going to pity his poor self. “Did you miss me by chance?”

Firmly, he quickly tugs you closer, landing his head on your shoulder and pointedly ignoring your comment. “Just shit faster, I need to sleep.”

Scaramouche didn’t comment on how you sucked in a harsh breath, lips parting as he hugged you tighter. Buried into your neck, he fought the smile that crept up on his face and the raging heat coaling in his cheeks. He heard a soft laugh echo into the air before a lightweight softly hit his head, humming a gentle: “Missed you too.”

He wasn’t sure if it was pounding in his ears or the thumping of your heartbeat, but as your warmth wrapped around his cool body, his composure ever so slightly weakened and lulled into a quiet hum. Gathering all his aches in a single embrace, he can’t help but desperately tug onto your shirt, demanding a resemblance of dignity — only for it to fail terribly as he leaned in closer, his body already weak to the kisses you press against his temples.

And that was enough for him.

(That was enough for his mind to come to a rest.)

So yes, you were revolting in every sense of the word. And yet if he were to choose, Scaramouche would willingly suck up his pride than ever pull away from your warm embrace.

[dapper-lil-arts]

I'm not the kind of person that's like "Here let me fix the canon" usually but like holy crap gen 5 implied a lot of messed up shit about our hero Twilight Sparkle lmao

[ophernelia]

late night whole foods run with a very sleepy imogen & lou.

lykaia playlist | recent episode

🍒 lou | noru's baseball cap, rona-sims' shirt, cascarano's shorts, charonlee's shoes, fukkiemon's earrings, johnny sims' hair, praline necklace

🍒 imogen | simstrouble's hair, simgirlz' messenger bag, dogangje's t-shirt, kikovanity's shorts, deliciousthing's shoes

~ thank you to all the cc creators!

all links lead to the creator's personal blogs, tsr, simfileshare, or patreon account.

[teamunee]

POV you’re sqh interrupting bingqiu sexy times

[brotato-chibs]

Kaito(u KID) doodles

[choccy-milky]

seb about to learn every language there is 📚📚

[tringstarruuu]

School crush 💘

[starcurtain]

One of my favorite things about the game's writing of Alhaitham and Kaveh:

The basic game text goes out of its way to convince us that the house is Alhaitham's--it is literally called "Alhaitham's Home" even during Kaveh's hangout.

But in-universe, we never see Alhaitham in his house unless Kaveh is there.

Throughout Sumeru's archon quests, we run into Alhaitham practically everywhere: in Port Ormos, in Aaru Village, in the Akademiya, at the Grand Bazaar. But never, despite the fact that the story wants to sell him as a homebody, in his own home. In fact, the only references we have to Alhaitham's house at all throughout the entire lead up of the archon quests are mentions of Kaveh.

Alhaitham doesn't suggest going there, doesn't ever go home himself (at least that we're explicitly told about) until the end of the archon quests, and has no cutscenes in his own house until Kaveh returns from the desert.

Then, all the sudden, Alhaitham literally can't wait to go home and walks off in the middle of a conversation.

From that point on, every time we're permitted to enter Alhaitham's house, in story quests, the hangout, and the event, it's either when he and Kaveh are together or with Kaveh alone.

Even during Alhaitham's birthday skit of all things, they went out of their way to tell us that Alhaitham's home, so of course Kaveh is there:

The map tag tells us the building is Alhaitham's Home, but the story reinforces a different idea:

It's Alhaitham's home when Kaveh is in it.

[godhurts]

I will see the most pathetic looking loser boy who's terrible at human interaction and be instantly like OMG he's the cutest thing I've ever seen I wanna take care of him and pat his head and see him on his knees and grab his pretty face and

[ingapotejtoo]

silly season started so we back in business with this silly little au >:] more info on the drivers lineup under read more :thumbs_up:

startin from the leeeft

McLaren Scar Goodtimes #24 Jimmy Slayer #5

Ferrari Sparklez Conway #37 Tubbo Scorsce #7

Mercedes Joel Smallish #58 Etho Slab #44

Redbull Syndicate H.D #1 Jericho Boner #3

Each of these numbers have thought & meaning behind them. Except for Sparklez, that one we got from the source himself.

[woozi]

LALALI SEVENTEEN (HIP HOP UNIT)

[maarigolds]