#imagine it's him

[gayofthefae]

Sorry but Buck being with a guy with the same name as the guy who broke Abby's heart is funny. I don't make the rules.

[archi-pelago]

maybe never forgive. but things are different now. so we'll use maybe.

[skipppppy]

This has to be an AU already right? I’ve never seen it. I’m doing it. My city now

The angst potential alone haunts me. How long do you think he waited for Ford?? When did it start to sink in that nobody was coming to save him, that nobody would miss him? Would anybody even want him back? How long did it take for his anger, his heartbreak, his grief to turn into acceptance and a belief that this was divine retribution? How long did he work, how many jobs did he take, how much wealth did he accrue, how many brushes with death did he have until he believed he’d “earned” the right to go home and see his brother?? Many such questions. I need to go deeper

[sabertoothwalrus]

I believe pretty firmly that it's really only the stylization that makes Chilchuck's age as ambiguous as it is, and that it'd be a lot easier to tell in real life.

and after a serious-ish comic here's a little bit of bullshit

[hansoeii]

look at you, you're gorgeous!

[jjk4isen]

super annoying gojo satoru when a girl comes up to you and asks you if he's your brother even after clearly seeing him grabbing your ass and saying super cheesy lines to you to make you only roll your eyes at him.

and you're stuck dumbfounded because it's not rocket science to figure out that you two are a thing just by looking at the both of you because the clingy bastard is quite literally stuck to you everywhere you go, whining and pleading for yet another kiss after stealing several from you.

and it's the same clinginess that prompts him to answer in your stead "yes actually. we're siblings" he beams a smile at you and you scowl, why the hell is he feeding onto this random girl's delusions like that? can't he take the hint?

you're not done scrutinising him when he grabs your chin with his big ass hands and smashes his lips onto yours, tugging and devouring your mouth into an extra sloppy kiss for the girl to take a hint.

he pulls away, a smirk on his lips as he licks his lips where yours had been a second ago. "is that obvious enough?" he chuckles, eyes never leaving yours as you see the girl storm off in the corner of your eye.

[naehilisms]

something something three high guardsmen and a mentally unwell emo kid walk into an abandoned energon depot

inspired by this and this

[screampied]

✧ ⁺˳ cw. fem! reader. husband nanami, whiney nanami, brēeding, cowgirl, mdni. adding to this

riding nanami so good that it makes him want to propose. focusing his weight purely on his rocking chair, the continuous creaks sing as you’re rutting back and forth. “s- sweetheart,” he slurs in a dreamy tune, a baritone-like rasp falling on his words. one hand of his grips toward your waist, tracing a thumb against the pretty curvature of your torso. whining yourself, you lean in toward his neck to bury your face near the crook, but he makes you collapse back. “no, no. don’t hide from me, wanna see those eyes,” and as gentle, mahogany irises meet your own, he groans. “good girl, my good girl. jus’ keep lookin’ at me, yeah.”

“kennnn,” you whimper, the repetitive dragging of your hips scratching a bittersweet carnal itch near the insides of your brain. his body heat was scorching hot, you thought you were gonna melt. the insatiable skin slapping against skin makes you deliriously numb, you want more. with your loose jaw hanging itself open, drooping—you lean in to lick a stripe up his neck. “fuck, ‘s good. mhm,” and each time you slam back and forth against him, he kisses his teeth. nanami’s sweating profusely, he barely even notices though because his entire attention’s focused on you. his pretty girl. although, the moment you start to dip your hips in a deep circular rotation, he tosses his head back.

“fuckin’ s- shittt,” he swears, and even his curses sounded so blissful . . sinful. for the first time in forever, nanami whines. the palm of his hand then closes in on your ass to give it a good firm squeeze. with fawn strands covering his eyes, he starts to shake. with his hefty chest heaving and a needy tone pouring from his voice, his gaze meets yours once more. “marry me, m- marry me, i need you to be my wife, please.”

an eyebrow of yours quirk upward at his words as a smile pierces its way against your spit-slicked lips. you throw your arms over his broad shoulders before giving him a sweet reply.

“hm?” and your hips had him going insane—the tempo, it was just right. not too fast nor too slow. the centers of your jittery knees bury itself into the sides of the chair before you whisper into his ear. “did you forget, baby? ‘m already your wife.”

nanami moans, your voice was enough to make him spasm right then and there—you sounded so sweet but your insides felt even sweeter.

your sloppy cunt grips against him tight like a vice, simply clinging onto him for dear life. within each pull and bounce against his lap, your walls were so gummy and goopy. it was just tantalizing. you were nothing but a tease and he only craved for more as each second passes.

taking in every inch of his thick cock, you hold back a noise yourself. digging the edges of your teeth into your bottom lip to suppress an incoming squeal, you kiss his neck — it was slow, you create a soft trail of butterflies with your lips. marking his neck with your own wings that press against your mouth.

“hah, oh . . are we?” he responds, panting. with a hand still glued to your hip like it’s made of adhesive, his eyes meets his ring finger. you and him were definitely still married. he groans, feeling a lump in his throat equivalent to the size of a saucer. “ah, forgive me sweetheart. ‘m sorry, y- your hips are just so..”

he doesn’t even bother trying to finish his trembling sentence before his cock kisses up against your g-spot once more. not just an ordinary kiss though, a french kiss.

it’s sloppy, passionate, and exquisitely thorough.

tangled fingers of yours claw at his cerulean blue dress collar. with cobwebs and cobwebs of slick saliva sloshing against each mouth — he huffs, shivering from your hands to roam further down his work shirt he wore. nanami was sexily slouched back, two thighs spread open for you with a single leg bouncing up and down in anticipation.

oh, he was close. his base sags and hangs as you’re rutting against him quicker and quicker. with a nice amount of fingers scraping through his hair and toying your fingertips with his scalp, you dip your tongue further into his mouth. “m- my love,” he purrs, and you don’t think you’ve ever heard him so whiney. his voice was melodic at most, each breaking syllable making the throbbing between your legs intensify. “don’t stop, please—i love you, i love you.”

“i love you too ‘ken,” you babble, feeling the elastic stretch curve and pull through your walls.

your lips part and you moan before feeling him hold your waist tight. nanami groans against your ear and it’s so low that it was almost a mere growl. it could have easily been mistaken as a growl with the raspiness in his voice. with your knees continuing to plow deeper into the chair, bouncing back and forth, he spanks you, again, and again, and again.

nanami’s about to come, you know once his prettily blown irises roll wayyy back until he’s seeing white and his thin brows curl into a proper furrow.

each sloppy bounce against his lap punctuates so good that he’s barely able to hold his moans back by now. you had him hooked. his faint poking dimples press together as he tries to speak, but instead of words, another dragging whine escapes. leaning up against his ear, your warm breath tickles his lobe. “c’mon, kento. cum in me, ‘s okay. make a mess in me, baby.”

“f- fuck, keep talk to me just like that, sweetheart ‘n i might,” he replies back in a shaky tone, feeling a chill reside up his spine.

your cunt’s addictive warmth was preparing to milk him for all that he’s worth. as he clenches down on his jaw for the umpteenth time, his grip against your waist tightens. “ugh, ‘s gonna be so much. so much for you, my sweet l- love,” and as he’s rambling, a thick load abruptly shoots into your core, dribbling into your womb. it’s hot, and when it rains it pours. nanami swallows thickly, the same lump that lived in his throat was now forming into a ball. your hips steadily slow down and you glance down to see the lewd mess emitting deeply into you. it’s so much—it’s velvety, creamy ropes of cum that quickly fill you up to the very top. as his tip spits such sloppy amounts of seed into your starved cunt, he bites his lip. “oh, ‘s still comin’ out. forgive me, ‘m givin’ you all of me, princess.”

with a soft smile, you kiss near the crevice of his mouth where a tiny crinkle caresses and marinates against his soft features. “don’t apologize for being dirty, ken. ‘s okay.” and his face softens at your words. nanami feels his body shudder with heat from how gentle you were with him.

you’re clinging onto him dry and he’s still pumping you full of ridiculous inches—featuring his beloved, syrupy textured cum. it’s a whopping amount that he could barely process how much he’s gifted to you until he actually looks down. the moment chest deflates, the sensitive crown head of his cock gives your sweetest spot its final chaste kiss. satisfied with being filled to the very brim, you don’t get off just yet. instead, you remain there, gently brushing your hips forward.

“m- marry me,” he repeats, his voice cracking.

nanami hears the squelches and spurts your own pussy makes from the residue of cum spewing from the undersides of your legs. “ah,” and he grips your chin, attempting to kiss you but his lips instead reach toward your chin. you worn him out, he’s barely even reaching your mouth and it’s cute. nanami’s got hooded half lidded eyes and a pried open mouth. he’s almost drooling for you, that’s how whipped you had him. “be my wife, i need you.”

kissing his cheek, you smile at his current pussy drunken state. taking a mental image to savor this moment forever, a thumb brushes its way against his tender cheek. “i'm your wife already, silly,” and his eyes dramatically roll back in rapture again. nanami’s releases always last long, and he’s still getting over it. his dick twitches from the sound of your voice, and he wanted more of his sweet sweet wife. the feeling of your sopping walls squeezing him for every ounce of cum he’s got makes him grunt. it feels so good that it’s almost heavenly. it’s warm and insanely sticky — oozing in ropey wads from your hole before trickling all near his lap. “all yours, ken.”

“all m- mine,” he repeats breathlessly, gently grabbing your wrist up to his mouth.

with a sheepish exhale leaving his lips, a free hand slithers its way toward your tummy. sighing deeply, nanami makes direct eye contact. “my love,” he repeats for a final time, and you gasp once he suddenly pulls out.

pouting for a second at feeling empty, he makes you lie flat on your back. nanami’s got a feral look in his eyes, broad shoulders raising up and down and messy unkempt strands all in his face, he wants one thing tonight and it’s you.

as he spreads your quavering legs open with a single hand, he then creeps two fingers toward your stuffed cunt to smear his cum near your entrance. “since we’re already married, let me g- give you a baby, sweetheart. you’d be such a good m- mommy.”

[mischievous-thunder]

When you meet someone so beautiful that you forget to utter proper coherent sentences

[aristoteliancomplacency]

Guys.

Y’all.

I…

I just. I just… i have discovered something. And I have laughed too much. I have laughed every time I have tried to explain it to someone. I cannot get through this.

Look. Okay.

There are two things you need to know, here.

First: There’s a style of Greek pottery that was popular during the Hellenic period, for which most of the surviving examples are from southern Italy. We call them ‘fish plates’ because, well, they’re plates, and they’re decorated with fish (and other marine life).

Like this one, currently in the Met:

Or this one, currently in the Cleveland Museum of Art:

They’re very cool. We’re not 100% sure what they were for, because most of the surviving ones were found as grave goods, but that’s a different post.

The second thing you need to know is that when we (Classics/archaeology/whatever as a discipline) have a collection of artefacts, like vases, sculptures, paintings, etc. and we do not know the name of the artist, but we’re pretty sure one artist made X, Y and Z artefacts, we come up with a name for that artist. There are a whole bunch of things that could be the source for the name, e.g. where we found most of their work (The Dipylon Master) or the potter with whom they worked (the Amasis Painter), a favourite theme (The Athena Painter), the Museum that ended up with the most famous thing they did (The Berlin Painter) or a notable aspect of their style. Like, say, The Eyebrow Painter.

Guess what kind of pottery the Eyebrow Painter made?

[orbitganymede]

self proclaimed guard dog simon who’s never held a conversation with you or even really tried to interact with you at all. he had caught a glimpse of you out on the town and traced you back to your current job, lucky for him, on base. you’re a little freaked out, this mammoth of a man randomly shows up one day and pulls a chair up to your desk, takes out a book and just hangs out for a few hours? even leaves an extra lighter for his cigs in your pen holder. introductions were a quick back and forth on names and that’s about it, sometimes he comments on your clothes or jewelry, he saw your dainty little chain on your neck and purchased an S charm the next day, left it on your desk and that was that. you really shouldn’t be okay with this but he’s kinda intriguing, and the guy that has the office next to yours hasn’t bothered you in weeks, something you’ve been begging for mentally, so really what’s simon doing wrong? he sometimes even brings you a stray pudding cup from the mess, how sweet.

but what really gets you is when you’ve just got in your car, setting your things down, buckling your seat belt, the works, but simon slides in your passenger seat, gives you a look (his eyes look so pretty in the sunlight) and tells you to “take us home”, you’re nervous to say the least, you heard what happened to janet in admin when she told him one of his stacks of paperwork was filed wrong, that she wasn’t gonna take his next one until he fixed his mistake (she’d left crying, cursing his name to high hell, and asking for a transfer) so really what choice do you have.

and maybe he walks into your place, goes straight for where you always store your remote and turns on the channel you like to watch, almost as if he’s seen this routine before, he even asks what face mask you’re gonna do tonight, you wonder how he guessed that you do a face mask every friday night (he suggests the blueberry charcoal one, says it makes your skin glowy (he did not use the word glowy)) you shrug and go on with your nightly tasks, make dinner, do dishes, shower. but what actually makes you stop in your tracks is when he walks out of the bathroom, still steamed up from his shower, butt ass naked and asks you what your favorite position is, pet.

[sapphire-weapon]

Other Voice Actors: hey guys here's my obligatory social media presence (:

Other Voice Actors: thanks for supporting my project (:

Other Voice Actors: I'm going to pretend like the fandom doesn't exist for my own sanity (:

Cody Christian, the voice of Cloud Strife:

Homie showed up to the ship wars with a bat and is just taking out kneecaps.

[obsesssedblerd]

“Wahhh!” 

“Nooooo!” 

“Bwahhhhhh!” 

“I don’t care, she was mine first!!!” 

“WAHHH!” 

“AHHHHHHH-” 

“Satoru Gojo,” you snap and glare at your husband, who’s burying his face in the pillow to muffle his laughter. Your seven month-old son also begins laughing. It’s so cute that you almost forget that the two were screaming at each other just seconds ago. 

Satoru lifts his head up to grin handsomely at you, feigning innocence. “Yes, wifey?” 

“Why on earth are you screaming with your son at eight o’clock in the morning?” You ask. 

“Because,” he whines, pointing an accusing finger at your baby boy, who had begun cooing adorably for your attention. “He won’t let me kiss you! Watch what happens.” To demonstrate, Satoru gently leans in, only to be stopped when the baby uses his tiny hands to push against his face with a loud whine. You stifle a laugh when he pouts, squinting his eyes at your son. “Listen, just because you’re laying here, doesn’t mean that you can just keep me from giving my wife a little smooch.” 

Your son doesn’t budge. “Bwah!” 

“Okay, and?!” Satoru exclaims with a tilt of his head.

You roll your eyes. “I cannot believe you’re actually arguing with him.” 

“Kid’s got a mouth on him.” 

“How do you even know what he said– You know what? Don’t answer that. Anyway, he’s your kid. I’d be surprised if he wasn’t sassy.” 

Satoru gasps dramatically. “I am not sassy.” Next to him, your son matches his pout with a hmph, and since he was born with Satoru’s hair and eye color, he basically looked like a tiny version of him. “See?” He asks, gesturing to his mini. “Even he agrees with me!” 

“Sure he does,” you say, then turn your attention back to your phone, scrolling through a grocery delivery app so you can start ordering things for the week 

“And back to you,” you hear Satoru continue with your son, “I just want to kiss her cheek, and you’re just– hey, no sticking out your tongue at me.” The baby babbles, and Satoru scoffs. “No, I’m not cryin’. What’re you talking about?” 

You laugh quietly. If this was how it was now, you couldn’t wait to see what it’s going to be like in the future.

[proselles]

alex hirsch was really just so pissed that no one saw his epic old man yaoi that he went and wrote a whole new book and made a whole website specifically to show meticulous evidence that this weird old man fucked a triangle.

he really said what were ford and bill really doing in that pocket dimension they shared, hm? did you ever think of that? oh - you think it was just chess? hm. interesting. i dont.

the ultimate rare pair shipper. i have never seen a creator do this before. absolutely fascinating at every angle.

[chloesimaginationthings]

Why did William get FNAF springlocked? Is he stupid?

[the-palelady]

when cowboy!ghost is leaving the clinic after his usual visit to his favorite nurse he always makes sure to let her know he loves her. his job is dangerous. last thing he wants is for him to go out without her knowing how much she means to him.

so one day he gives your lower back a pat, whispering a “love ya, sweetheart,” before turning to leave.

however, you don’t say it back.

simon stops dead in his tracks while you continue on about your business. for a moment he waits it out, maybe you didn’t hear him? maybe something else caught your attention and you had to take care of it before responding?

but your response never comes.

so he turns to face you, his expression nothing short of annoyed, eyes narrowed, lips pulled tight under the bandana that obscures the lower half of his face.

your back is turned to him when he stomps over towards you. he minds your hands of course, making sure you aren’t holding any of the doctor’s instruments before he turns you around, jolting you from your work.

your eyes meet a raging fire, his pupils almost dilated. your cheeks are pinched between his thumb and fingers, lips pursed.

“si-“

his voice is a deep rumble, thunder clapping in the distance.

“i said…i love ya, honey. now i know that pretty mouth of yours hasn’t forgotten how to say it, or do i need to give it a reminder?”