#k night now

[rabbitsinwonderland]

okayyy bed for me now :]] eepy

[kaffkanya]

it makes me sick to my stomach thinking about how spock — touch telepath, by the way — touches jim and accepts his touch so freely, almost without hesitation, but denies touch from others. like, okay, you can argue he has his cool vulcan telepathic shields on all the time, but, surely, surely, he can feel jim's mind buzzing, electric and agitated, brushing against his own. like humans brush hands with the one they like.

and he shouldn't think about it, but maybe he does. maybe in the quietness and stillness of his meditation, he feels the ghost of jim's psychic, burning, tingling. like lips feel hours later after a kiss. the memory of it.

but then, he's sure jim isn't even aware of all this. so he keeps touching him and letting himself be touched. and it could mean nothing.

[clownsuu]

I give you an

A

A

Also I stole this ask just so I can post this fuggin weirdo I made smhh (I raise from the dead just to post an oc again LMAOAOAOAO)

Hopefully this will be my last one in a long while I can live with 7 fuggin wh characters HHFHFUDJSNKSSJ- well- technically 8 if you include Betsy-

But to keep it (somewhat) short and sweet- my loser- a ye ol Milkman- Zachary Milksop (chronically lactose intolerant) and Betsy (a lil mascot moo sentient puppet)

Another character made almost spur in the moment again (like Mari) though thankfully not another bUG, but just some average human smhh. He’s a really simple guy, a loser, is as interesting as normal milk— he’s just the ye ol milkman who delivers you that gud shid smhh— enjoyer of the finer things in life (lunchables). A lil flirty and charming (in possibly the cringiest way possible) however he doesn’t really seem to pick up anyone besides the local cows that constantly harass him (and eats his pants). He enjoys watching them though, from v e r y m u c h afar——

hes just kinda, “that guy”

Also Betsy- a very sweet woman! She always greets everyone and has the friendliest extroverted personality ever! Always the type to bring (albeit tiny) gifts for her favorite neighbors and always leads when talking to anyone. Not like she would allow Zach to say anything anyway, she hates his polyester guts (and only him smhh)

[thethoriumreactor]

Inspiration hit me like a high speed train with something unrelated to hazbin after 3 months of nothing

Here’s a little dumbass cinnamon roll for you

*crawls back into my hole for the next few months*

[fagm0m]

i need to fuck someone's throat. i need to fuck someone's boycunt. i need gay sloppy T4T werewolf sex. I am the werewolf. You are my prey. You should run. Try and escape through the woods. It won't save you. I've already smelled you, I've already tasted you. Once I find you and hunt you down you can kick and scream and cry but it'll only make it better when I bury my knot deep in your cunt.

[todayisafridaynight]

[eggcatmaki]

For all the Saiki x Coffee Jelly fans 🥺

[themoonunderstoodmydadjokes]

✨ Anxious and sad but still posting ass ✨(also unpopular opinion but I like my stretch marks a lot)

[good-to-drive]

George would have been such a menace if he'd been able to text... texting Tom Petty at 3 am to tell him he's beautiful and leaving Paul on read for days straight

[fernisfat]

u guys what if i had to pee really bad but i was too lazy and fat to get up and go to the bathroom so i peed my pants 👉👈

[xxplastic-cubexx]

friend trying to convince me to download fortnite by saying magneto in it and ouuuugh first off dont like how she knows me like that i feel exposed but second off they better not make that bitch available again cause i will fold instantly

[blitheringbongus]

My version of Mumbo screams „HALT“ instead of stop btw

[frnkiebby]

Brain.exe has crashed~🎃

[hplonesomeart]

Merry Christmas eve

P-Puzzle plush? For me??? As gift??? Thank you so much aaaaaa that’s real sweet hehe. Even as a virtual JPEG his dorky smile lights up my spirits. I appreciate the well wishes and I hope your seasonal celebration is all the more cheery and bright!! Merry Christmas Eve :D

[butmakeitgayblog]

Okay but I just know that Lexa gives the best hugs 😤 If they ever had the opportunity, I just KNOW Clarke would be making use of Big Strong Invisible MusclesTM all the time and absolutely koala-hugging the shit out of her 🥹

Never question that Lexa was a fantastic hugger. Look at the sheer relief on her face. You can see the piece of her soul within the chip sighing in joy at just holding Clarke again. The way had hands gripped at Clarke's back and pressed her in tighter. Commander noddle arms was an amazing hugger through and through ok 🥺

Just because the blog has felt so gd negative tonight here, a Clexa hug from the canon wip I got going, because why not. We deserve the fluff

/////////

It's hard for Clarke to keep it together when yet another piece of her heart turns to shrapnel, jagged and deathly in its destruction. It makes old wounds sting like new as she adds the confession to the mountain of sins she cannot fix for them, for anyone, by sheer will alone. Because she would. So many pieces of her scream in duty-bound rebellion with how much she needs Lexa to know that she would do anything to fix the ache of her absence - to wash away the nights spent apart and spare them both. 

She would, if only she could.

Clarke hugs her. There's really nothing else for it. There's nothing that feels as right in that moment more than surging closer, stretching her arms to loop around Lexa's neck and pull her in. 

“I'm here now,” Clarke says, and seals her paltry offering with a kiss to the column of Lexa's throat.

She ignores her captive's flustered start at the tenderness and tucks into Lexa. Any worry for how she clings more than she means too is left for another day as her arms tighten at the burst of that familiar scent that is entirely Lexa; all forest greenery mixed with the clean scent of her sweat against skin that carries lingering notes of some floral sweetened soap. 

The coil of muscle and sinew in her arms turns into a mass of Commander-shaped jelly when Lexa melts into the touch, knees seeming to buckle with how fiercely she folds into the hug. Her arms cinch around Clarke's waist so tightly it nearly lifts her onto the tips of her toes; hip bones pressing to hip bones, ribs crushed to ribs. 

They hold each other in the creaking silence of the hut so long Clarke's feet pool in pins and pricks, offering little else more than sniffles buried into coat sleeves and armor and the syncing of juddered heartbeats. The buckles of Lexa's coat dig into Clarke's stomach and the pommel of her sword knocks rough against her hip, but she can't bring herself to care. Not when she's this close. Not when every press of Clarke's lips to Lexa's throat is mirrored against her own, tender in its supplication. 

The hands that hold her feel restless against her back. Constant in their moving, gentle in their caress. They rub languid circuits from her shoulders to the tops of her hips, as though Lexa can't quite control the need to touch her as much as humanly possible, and it's only when Clarke opens her eyes just to see that face again, that she loosens her hold and slowly, so slowly, inches herself away. 

Lexa doesn't let her go far. Keeps her right where she wants her with a dig of fingertips against leather and spine, temple resting against temple and cheek against kohl smudged cheek. She fills all the spaces Clarke has missed her touch.

Heat traces over her skin in Lexa's shaky exhale as the snuggle-inclined warlord nuzzles closer, tickling the plump bow of her lips along Clarke's chin and up, until Clarke doesn't know where one breath ends and another begins. Eyes sparkle under the hang of long lashes. Lips drift closer, closer to the warmth of Clarke's mouth.

“May I?”

Two sets of lungs hiccup in the wake of Lexa's whispered plea, the vulnerability of it stinging with just how small she sounds - as though she still doubts this. As though Lexa has no idea that the memory of her mouth and her taste and the sweet bite of her teeth were the only things that's kept Clarke sane in her misery for all these weeks. 

Clarke's mouth tugs into a smile at the question.

Even more as their lips brush when she speaks. 

“Please.”

///////

[weirdlookindog]

Kenneth M. Skeaping - 'Tis Now the Very Witching Time of Night

illustration from Jerome K. Jerome's 'Told After Supper', 1891