#just for kicks and giggles into the void:

[gigglebug]

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[ecogirl2759]

Sorry, this is so random, but I have to say it

The amount of people I've spoken to over the years is insane. Every time I met someone, I tried bringing up Ranma 1/2 in some way because it's amazing and I love that show, but no one knew what it was. I got... maybe like 4ish people outside of my immediate family who vaguely knew of it.

The sheer number of people that I know that are finally getting into the show because of the remake is actually incredible to me. All of a sudden, all the cool kids on the block are talking about Ranma and Akane and making little AUs and stuff and I'm just. so happy.

I'm just really glad I can talk about my favorite guys with my favorite guys! People will finally understand what I'm referencing when I scream "Whadya do that for?!" People know the characters I'm talking about and we can share our mutual love for P-Chan. I can go INSANE about the comedy and the plot and rant about things that are so insignificant because it's about something we all like now.

I'm just really happy, you know?

Thanks to everyone giving the show a chance. You make me feel a little less lost in this crazy world <3

(And if you have the chance to see the original, I would HIGHLY recommend it. The Kuno Dream Sequence was CRAZY and I wish they didn't have to cut most of it lmao)

[constantvariations]

K so, Semblances are connected to Aura which is a manifestation of the soul yeah?

In Before the Dawn, the father of the villains confirms that one of twin's semblance was active in the womb throughout a good portion of the pregnancy

Meaning, in Remnant, fetuses have souls. Wonder how legal abortions are

Edit: just remembered Pyrrha had to unlock Jaune's Aura in V1, so does that mean someone cracked open a fetus's Aura inside the womb? Was Gillian strong enough as a cluster of cells to unlock it herself?? Wtf is this origin story???

[triptychofvoids]

I feel like the human building project is still missing something. Maybe another arm or 3, Id be willing to donate

youre right!! honestly, now that medic has managed to bring you guys to life (or, the frankenanon i suppose) hes not too sure what to do with it. for the time being though, he has a ton of leftover material to work with (and i do mean a lot!!) so hes going to start sewing on extra limbs. and we've got an extra jaw, another nervous system, extra organs.... it might be fun to try to put two different brains in there!! lets see what happens!! doing fucked up experiments and evil arts and crafts on you guys now, ok?

[judasofsuburbia]

taylor zahkar perez i would lay down my life for you TRUST!

[danveration]

so i just literally cannot stop thinking about walton goggins!!!!!! it’s crazy idk i think i have a virus or someyhign

[mainfaggot]

just watched challengers at the cinema w my little sister. it was so intense wtf

[mxrtified777]

i am so tired but i NEED to be nevinposting all of the time because he has filled the void in my brain like a stretched out pixelated png

[cosmicerroraftermath]

( @gazelessmenagerie​ )

( @dragvnsovl​ )

The feline just hops up onto the brute's leg when kicked at, staring him down like it was his JOB.

...He's gonna go tell Tater on you, and you're gonna get in trooooooooooooooubleeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee.

He just opens a hole in space and hops thru. Gonna go tell bunny mom.

[anachronistic-falsehood]

ohhhhhh no i have a tiny crush on cellbit.

[ourfandomcrazyuniverse]

HOLY SHIT. THEY DID IT!!!!

Wolverine carrying around Wade Wilson like this, except with his claws through him

[orangespottedgiraffe]

.

[voidcoining]

Ily void /p

-☄️🛰️

AAAAAAAAAAA TYYYY

[skrunkol]

I'm not like other girls. I don't care about instagram likes (I say while smiling at my tumblr notifications)

[saintajax]

How Ajax and Dottore look at me when they let me practice nail stuff on them knowing damn well they’re just gonna either break them or chip the paint while working

[lukesandromeda]

hard to sleep - luke castellan x reader

summary : luke convinces you to sleep in his cabin and it results in you helping him recover from a nightmare.

warnings: mostly fluff but a bit of angst - reader thinks luke is having a wet dream - luke is sad and scared 💔 my baby

a/n: not proofread and it's 1:38 am and i wrote this in only one hour so we'll see what it looks like later ig - couldn’t think of a title but when it doubt gracie it out

You'd sworn you'd try. You'd sworn you'd try to sleep in the crowded Hermes cabin tonight for Luke. You'd been hanging over his hips in a straddling position that was void of any real contact, just holding your body above him as you sat on your knees.

The two of you had been swapping kisses in between locked lips and smiles and giggles that escaped and found solace in each other's mouths.

"Stay," he'd whispered against your lips when you pulled away to get a breath of air.

You kissed back, breathlessly panting into his mouth. "No, thanks."

He pulled away, and you waited for a moment for him to catch his breath before you leaned in to kiss him again. This time, though, he caught you with palms flat against your chest and pushed you back for a second. He bit back a smile as he saw the look of petulance on your face and then he ran a thumb over your lips.

You parted them, and he accepted that as an invite to slip the thumb over the curve of your bottom lip. He sighed as he watched your immediate act of obedience, and then he huffed, "Stay."

You pouted, and gods help you, Luke mirrored it by tugging his bottom lip through his teeth to mock you. You huffed, brows furrowing at his expression. The silent exchange brought a lazy smile to his lips, his big brown eyes tracing over your lips. "Stay."

You rolled your eyes as you protested in a small, lazy voice, "I don't like it in here."

"Thanks," he retorted as he adjusted his hold on your hips.

"Welcome."

"Angel, don't you love me?"

Your eyes took in his face and you rolled your eyes when you saw the look of what you thought was mock desperation. "Sometimes."

"Mhm?" he grinned at your faux look of indifference.

"Yeah."

"Is loving me sometimes enough to get you to stay in my cabin tonight?"

You shrugged. "Sleeping in your cabin isn't exactly my favorite."

He shrugged back. "Shucks."

You wanted to slap him on the face, and you'd raised your hand to do so. However, unfortunately, (fortunate, actually, if you were being honest,) Luke was already taking both of your hands to his lips and pressing soft kisses to each knuckle on both hands.

"Your cabin is packed. And loud. I never get any sleep in here."

"Get that melanie shit. Helps you sleep." He suggested.

"Melatonin," you corrected absentmindedly. Your thighs were starting to ache from the job of holding your body weight above his, so you gently settled on his hips. He made a noise of approval, hands squeezing your hips.

"Sleep in here tonight. Please." He begged. "Try for me. I need you tonight."

You rolled your eyes as if your heart wasn't fluttering from the sweet words. You opened your mouth to protest, but the asshole cut you off with a, "Baby, try for me."

A soft, gentle hum escaped from your sealed lips, approving the pet name and the tone he used it with.

A few moments passed as you started into the stupid, wide, boyish brown eyes that were glossy and begging you to stay.

"Fine," you mumbled in a tone of annoyance, and there was a grin on his lips before yours were on them instead.

When your eyes flutter open, it takes you a few moments to realize that it's still night. You blink for a few moments before your vision is clear enough to catch a comprehensible glance at Luke's bedside table alarm clock. 2:47 am.

You blink a few other times before groaning, eyes finding the ceiling as your cloudy mind identifies what woke you up.

It doesn't come to a conclusion.

You begin to shrug it off. Maybe an animal made a particularly loud sound from outside. Maybe Luke kicked you in his sleep. Maybe—what was that?

After looking to the side, you noticed Luke was still in bed with you. But it took you a while to notice that. Because he was practically hanging off the edge of the bed, as far as possible from you. This discovery leads you to acknowledge how damn cold it is without his body heat, but then your mind thinks back to what just happened.

Luke moaned.

Luke had moaned in his sleep.

You shiver. You knew Luke was dirty. Gross. It pained you to even consider what was going on his dreams right now.

You rolled over to face the opposite direction, closing your eyes and letting your mind begin to lull you back into sleep.

"Ah," you hear from Luke. You roll your eyes and turn over to stare at the back of his perverted head.

That's when you realize that his 'perverted' head is shaking. Desperately back and forth.

You blink, squinting when you release how tense his muscles are.

He's sweating, and as shamefully ogle at the sweaty muscles in his shoulders, you notice that said shoulders are shaking.

"Please stop," he whispers weakly, the words kind of slurred and only comprehensible when you take an extra five seconds to decipher them.

You take a deep breath.

Nightmare.

You squeeze your eyes shut in dread.

Sleeping with Luke is always pleasant. He's warm, he's big, he's good at cuddling. The only downside, the common downside, is dealing with his nightmares.

It's not like he was hard to deal with. It didn't give you second hand embarrassment like it would with anyone else. He didn't thrash around and get violent in his sleep. He just got sad. And that's what you found to be difficult.

You sighed, moving closer to him and whispering, "Luke, baby."

"Please stop," he begs, and you take a moment to remind yourself that he's not talking to you.

You touch his shoulder, not going far enough to shake it. You drag a thumb across the blade and lean in and press a kiss to the back of his neck. "Luke."

You hear a whine, and something similar to a sob. You resort to pressing kisses to his upper back, shoulders, neck and head. You mutter his name a few times as you do so until he sits up slowly.

He doesn't dart up straight like others do. He slowly, weakly brings himself into consciousness, as if he's trying to come to terms with something.

Luke sits with knees up, halfway spread and elbows on them. He stares at the wall, blinking away startled and most likely frustrated tears as he takes a few deep breaths before falling back down until he's laying again.

His eyes trace the room until they land on you, and you realize that it's just now that he notices that you're there.

"Oh," he breathes. He looks guilty.

"Hi," you whisper nervously as your cautious eyes trace his face, "you okay, handsome?"

A few moments pass as he returns the inspection of your face before he shrugs weakly. "I'm really tired."

You hum, looking over his body before you pull yourself to sit up, and habitually, he follows suit.

Wordlessly, you crawl over and peel off his damp, sweaty shirt. He lets you, lifting his arms just slightly from your sides. If he wasn't going through emotional turmoil right now, you probably would've made a snarky joke on his laziness and the fact that he's making you do all of the work.

Once you've worked his shirt off, you throw it into his hamper that sits beside his nightstand and then you leave the bed. A look of panic immediately settles onto his features, and he's begging incomprehensible variations of, "Don't go, gods, please don't go."

You exhale as you bring a hand to cup his face, soothingly drawing a half circle on his face. "Two seconds. Gonna grab something."

Reluctantly, he lets you go and watches as you wade into the bathroom. When you come back, you're holding a damp rag that he notices is a bit sudsy.

Sitting down next to him on the bed, you take his hand as you begin to use your free hand to drag the cloth against his skin and scrub at the beads of sweat that coat his skin.

He whines, feeling the harsh pressure against his tense muscles. Your brows knit together in empathy and you whisper, "I know. I know, baby. You're doing good."

He looks up at you, making eye contact as he watches you delicately clean him.

You offer him a sympathetic smile. You know it's more than sympathy—it's empathy. You feel the guilt in your stomach.

Luke opens his mouth, and then closes it. His tongue darts out to moisten his lips, and he hesitantly pulls his eyes away from yours and watches as his abdominal muscles jerk and twitch beneath the rag. He mewls and you shush him gently with words of encouragement.

Finally, his eyes close when you begin to wipe his face. You wipe underneath his eyes, wincing as he exhales shakily. You collect the mix of tears and sweat from his chiseled cheek bones. You use the rag on his hairline and you put your hands in his hair to massage his scalp. Subsequently, this releases the tension in his brows.

His eyes close when you toss the rag onto the bedside table and go back to him. You open your arms, and he pouts. He pouts like he needed it. He pouts like he's so incredibly moved by your act of kindness. You let out a sound of approval when he crawls into your arms and wraps his around your waist, settling onto your upper body. He breathes shakily into your neck and you lean down to press a kiss to his hairline.

You don't ask him what happened, what the dream was about. You instead smile when he tells you that he loves you and you respond with, "I love you, too, Luke.”

And he nods as if he's so incredibly relieved to hear that.

It shocks you how fast he can fall asleep in your arms after an intense nightmare.