#it's whatever babes

[nateslehky]

life is so much better when you don't care if your team wins or loses btw

[sundayroadkill]

chatty recharge moment 💬💬💬

[muppetminge]

wow i love twitter sm.

on a serious note - i think it's funny to portray women not wearing make-up as silly and childish when you're the one apparently caring so much about what other people are doing to their faces.

ask yourself: why do you find bare faces not appropriate for formal events? why does it bother you to see a woman without makeup? how does it effect you? why do you think it effects you?

you're so insistent that there are no societal pressures at play, that women are doing this exclusively for themselves and for the joy of it - then where does this urge to force it on women who don't find joy in it come from? why does it annoy you to see women in their natural way of being? it's a choice, but also there's a right choice, apparently, and anyone stepping out of line shoud be promptly shamed into submission. right?

"a little (whatever) never hurt anybody" okay and neither does a bare face. grow up.

[yuwuta]

olympics coming up…… athlete aus on the mind….. satoru as a swimmer….. unreasonably large wingspan…. huge hands..... thinks “official” competitions and tournaments are boring because he can’t use the goofy purple googly eyes goggles he likes to practice in…… practices at ungodly hours solely because he likes when the pool is empty because that means you’ll dip your feet in at the edge and be there to greet him with a kiss when he’s finished his laps….. they bring up the stats board and it’s just his name ten times before the next fastest person and he could still lap them, and even tho he’ll always put so much pressure on himself to be the best, it’s worth it to have you hold his face and tell him you’re proud of him... he’s gotten so much merch from events and sponsorships and he used to think they just created clutter but that all changes when you start to wear his clothes (esp the ones with his name on it… he’s not proud to admit that does Something to him)…. always looks up to the stands when he finishes a race and if he knows you’re not there, he looks right at the camera, draws an infinity sign with his fingers, and blows a kiss (which, some commentators routinely call “unsportsmanlike conduct” but he doesn’t care, and always, publicly says he’ll pay the fees if it means blowing a kiss to his girl at home)

[almondpiglet]

practicing stuff with rei n seris steampink outfits

[parin-gurumin]

Okay here's Tavros for my bf's request

Below the cut for the version without colors

[knifearo]

"asexual discourse" is so funny cause dude that's not discourse and it's never been discourse. it's not an argument and it's not a conversation bitches are just yelling at us unprompted and then making up people to get mad at 😭

[dustykneed]

good luck, babes! 💙💛

maybe i should write a fic. hmm

(edit: if you wanted to know my personal interpretation... watch the can in bones' hand. and the colors mean things loll. i think i'll make an explanation tomorrow just for fun)

[meep-meep-richie]

Tommy is officially Bucks date now

[rochenn]

Eye Level, pt. I

Getting into the comic groove by making Dooku (loneliest most pathetic man in the galaxy) develop a Thing for his tailor. Part two in progress!

[lunar-years]

This is the pessimist jumping out of me but I think what irks me most about the level of rep tv hype is that I KNOW half these people are gonna be the exact same ones loudly complaining on rep tv release night because “delicate sounds slightly off at minute 1:34” or “how could they ruin getaway car :(“ or “this new photoshoot doesn’t even fit the vibe” or “why do these vault tracks sound like they belong on midnights :(“

[jabbagabba]

Paul : “May thy knife chip and shatter.”

Feyd-Rautha *confused, a little turned on* :

[whoisspence]

we all talked about glasses reid what about glasses matthew

[gunstellations]

a little family

[demonir]

Playing around with a style reminiscent of my first digital art years and years ago… it was pretty fun

[sophiethewitch1]

In Death's Embrace

Jason x Death!Reader

His head is in your lap, the sun peeking through the black locks of his hair. He grumbles at the light interrupting his nap, and turns and presses his face into your thigh. You chuckle, carting a hand through his hair just like he loves you to.

He’s at peace. The world is at peace. He’s safe here, in your unending embrace, and he knows he’ll never have to leave it. He knows that’s the way it should be.

“You’re so clingy today,” you tease him, and he chooses to ignore your words. The quiet is peaceful, and he longs for more of it, even as he wants your words too. Of course, as always, you understand. Instead, you whisper sweet nothings to him, gazing out at the wheat fields surrounding the two of you.

There’s a book in your hand, the one that doesn’t pet him. It’s in a language he doesn’t know, doesn’t recognise. It’s probably as old as you are.

He didn’t know much about you. He didn’t need to. He understood who you were, what you were. He wasn’t stupid. He understood that you comforted billions of others, held them like you held him. Maybe once he would’ve been jealous, but he knew that feeling was pointless too.

Here, you wouldn’t let him feel anything but peace. Here, he needn’t want for anything but you, and you’d always give yourself over to him freely.

Your hand pauses in his hair. It tightens. Jason likes the feeling, likes anything you do to him, but he senses your tension, and opens his eyes. You’re not looking at him, instead staring up at the blue sky. Mouth pursed, you tilt your head.

You look back down at him, smiling softly. It’s the same as every other smile you give him, but he doesn’t like it. Doesn’t trust it. Something’s wrong, and he’s filled immediately with a sense of panic he hasn’t known in years.

“Fascinating,” you say, and Jason pulls himself up from your lap, grabbing your hands in his. You let him move you, let him pull you to your feet, don’t resist as he follows his instincts, running into the strands of wheat like hell is on his heels.

It might be.

“Jason,” you call his name, your voice calm despite his hurried breathing, “Jason, dear.”

He pauses just long enough to look back at you, to look at the blue sky cracking open in jagged edges, to see the reeds pulling backward into a gaping void. He can feel the sucking gravity, and he plants his feet against the wind. You’re unaffected by the tear in the sky, your hair calm, your clothes still.

“Jason, it’s a good thing. Not many get a second chance,” you cajole him, pulling on hand from his grasp to cup his chin. He leans into your touch, savouring it, needing it.

“It’s not. I won’t leave you, I can’t,” he whispers, his words almost lost in the roar of the wind.

“You have no choice,” and your eyes are almost… sad. He doesn’t think that’s right. He doesn’t think someone like you should feel sad. You’ve seen so much, know so much.

What does it say for his future? What does it mean, when Death looks at you with pity?

“Save me, please,” he begs you, and you shake your head.

“I have no choice, either. You must make the most of it, Jason. You must do your best. And I’ll be here when you come home, waiting for you,” you promise him, and he has to choke down a sob. This isn’t right. This isn’t how it’s supposed to be.

He was supposed to have you forever.

“How can I when you’re not there with me?”

You peer into his eyes, and the void rips wider behind you.

“You won’t remember me, darling.”

The last thought, before it takes him, before it swallows him whole, is that that’s the worst part.

Part two!