#like they’re SO busy

[nsfwitchy2]

I feel bad for the amount of Saturdays I take off sometimes cause I know Saturday is hella busy at the salon but also like,,,, rip to y’all b y e ✌️

[chloesimaginationthings]

I can’t wait to see mangle in the FNAF 2 movie,,

[peacheskoo]

No capes/actors AU came to me via a dream and I have since been obsessing over it,,

I have so many ideas over it but my fav is currently that the Jasons are brothers because of the quick switch between seasons/robins and how they couldn’t use the same actor for older Jason so they just asked his older brother to be Red Hood Jason, Little Jason is way younger because they were trying to emphasize how small street kid Jason was

Part 1

[nobleriver]

DOCTOR WHO | Let's Kill Hitler (6.08)

[stars-obsession-pit]

“Quick, I need help hiding my powers from my parents!”

“Are they not supportive? Are you safe?”

“I know they will be supportive if they find out, but there’ll be a whole thing about ‘Oh god, how did we not realize we were shooting at our son! We need to destroy all our ghost-hunting weapons!’ and I really don’t want to deal with that until I’m done with my exams”

[izzystizzys]

There is a scratch mark on the floor of the Council chambers that Mace has never noticed before. Not a deep one, mind, quite shallow. This matters because it’s making the white-hot pulse of agony stabbing through his eyeballs ebb momentarily. Then, he chances a glance upwards at the fidgeting Knight in front of them, and it returns in full force.

Huh, he’s never seen Oppo Rancisis’ face turn that colour before.

“Hmm”, Master Yoda hums, deep and scratchy. His expression is unreadable even to Mace beyond a baseline gremlinness, and the force with which he grips the edges of his seat is making his bones creak. Master of the Order you should become, they said. Follow the calling of the Force, you should. A fulfilling purpose, it will be. Mace is going to hunt the little goblin for sport when this is all over, and he’s going to laugh the whole time.

“Show us the livestream again, could you, Knight Parvo?” Yoda asks. Mace bursts a capillary, he’s pretty sure, and so does poor Knight Parvo, whose orange Mon Cala skin tips all the way into blood red with stress. “Most unusual, this is.”

“Absolutely not!”, Ki Adi intervenes before Mace has to, thank the Force for little mercies. Plo Koon’s tusks tremble slightly with either suppressed laughter or abject horror, maybe both, and Stass Allie has her head in her hands. “The holo stills should be enough”, Ki Adi proceeds to add, and Mace has to reconsider all feelings of grace he just felt towards his fellow Councillor.

He never wants to watch Yoda zoom in on someone’s abs again. Or Depa raise her eyebrows at the curve of thighs bent over the dripping front of a speeder.

“Speeder Wash For Our Troops”, his former padawan reads out loud from a still of what has to be hundreds of the things gathered in the public senate parking lot. “Fund Our Boys And Get A Wet Seeing-To!” The series of images features dozens of Coruscant Guard troopers in various stages of unkitted, gleaming and shining with soap suds and water. The fact that the whole thing is also massive shatterpoint after massive shatterpoint is, quite frankly, insulting.

“Well hello- oh dear”, Obi-Wan’s blue form crackles to life in his chair, followed by several sounds of choking that are definitely not him. Good, Mace thinks acidly. If he has to deal with this, then so does kriffing Skywalker. “I’m sorry, why am I looking at Commander Thorn using a washrag like a lasso on top of a speeder?”

“Oh, the Guard’s little fundraising project”, Bail Organa says, as he steps into the Council chambers. Normally, Mace likes the man well enough. Now, he just smiles and adds on, “I’ve already donated, in mine and Breha’s name. Remotely, of course.”

“The Guard’s fundraising speeder wash?”, Obi-Wan repeats, edges of his holo form flickering with what Mace suspects is Skywalker very unsubtly trying to edge in. Force, but the man really is horrible at any and all stealth, like kissing his secret wife in an open arena in front of his Master. “And they are fundraising for…?”

“GAR budget allocations have to come from somewhere”, Organa shrugs. “And with the tide of public opinion turning, they’ve been tending towards cuts. The Guard feels them more keenly than any other sector - they’ve been reduced from half to quarter rations, and medical supplies have not made more than a token appearance in the last draft. The Chancellor has cancelled three consecutive meetings on the matter, and thus it was agreed that a more hands-on approach was needed. Any surplus will go into the Army fund.”

“Surely it can’t be that dire”, Oppo protests, a slightly less concerning shade of purple now. Senator Organa shrugs again, jostling the smattering of cracks slowly building around his person in a way that makes Mace wince quietly. “It’s all publicly available data, Masters.”

It really can be that dire, as it turns out. And quarter rations is only scratching the surface of how dire, considering the Guard has apparently never had access to bacta in all their posting, and also includes requisitioning forms available to the Senate for reconditionings and decommissionings, two words Mace has only heard Ponds whispers amidst shuddering in the early days of the war before Shaak Ti went off and just about tore some throats out over it.

“Alright”, he concedes, rubbing at his temples. “Fair enough, we have failed to tackle a massive blind spot in the Guard’s well being. There is no Jedi assigned to Coruscant, and that’s an oversight on our behalf. But how in the everloving kriff did this get past the Chancellor and Commander Fox?!”

Who have both signed, black on white. Bail Organa smiles cryptically. “Well, if you scroll a bit past that one image, up to the industrial speeder in the back - Commander Fox is currently having credits stuffed into his codpiece in the back, I believe.”

“HE’S WHAT IN THE WHAT NOW”, Commander Cody screeches through the speaker of Obi-Wan’s holo image, and Mace has to summon every bit of Jedi-serenity he possesses in his body to keep from dropkicking a cackling Yoda through the chamber windows.

[ewwww-what]

You guys don’t get it, they used to be the high 5 heroes. They used to be the high 5 heroes guys. They used to. They used to be starry eyed freshmen. They had to choose each other. They had to have awkward introductions. They had to pick that name together. I’m never okay ever.

[wickmitz]

this man is so SMITTEN and he’s been smitten since he first laid eyes on her … literally he makes the softest little expressions whenever mitzi is around and this is only a small few examples. love them so bad <3

[baristabomb]

dungeon meshi characters taking care of each other

:’)

bonus:

[bri-cheeses]

| Rosekiller microfic | Word count: 629 |

-

“Is this your shirt?”

Barty looked up as Regulus’ confused tone filled the space between them, turning off his phone as Regulus pinched a tee between his thumb and forefinger and held it up to the light. It was a light cream color that Barty could admit would look extremely out of place in his closet, an odd bright spot against his band tees and general dark ensemble of clothes.

“No, it’s Evan’s,” he said breezily. Never mind the fact that it was in his apartment, despite Evan living… not in Barty’s apartment.

Regulus let the shirt drop to the floor and wrinkled his nose. “Then what’s it doing in here?”

He tucked his legs up, sitting sideways against the back of the couch, and tilted his head at Barty.

“Oh, you know—” Barty unlocked his phone and went back to scrolling— “he just leaves things here sometimes.”

“Like his shirt?” Regulus asked skeptically.

“Well, he does have other clothes here.” A bit of an understatement, considering Barty had an entire drawer dedicated to Evan’s clothes alone, but Reg didn’t need to know that. “So it’s not like he was just walking around shirtless.”

Not that Barty would complain about seeing that, though.

“Ignoring the fact that you two are entirely too codependent, what were you even doing in the first place that caused his shirt to be left on your floor?”

Barty doubted Regulus really wanted to know the answer to that. He raised one shoulder in a half-hearted shrug, still looking at his phone. “Things happen.”

“Things?”

Barty flicked an unimpressed gaze up at Regulus, who was staring at him with furrowed eyebrows. If Regulus truly hadn’t figured it out by now, Barty wasn’t going to help him.

“Yeah, things. Showering, spilling something on your shirt… do us a favor and pick whichever puts your mind at ease.”

Regulus sighed. “Why’re you being so vague?”

“Why’re you being so nosy?”

Barty swore that Regulus actually rolled his eyes.

“Can you just spare me the dramatics and tell me why Evan’s shirt is currently lying on the floor by your couch?”

Regulus was staring him down now, clearly intent on getting an answer. Barty didn’t particularly feel like giving it, but he supposed it would be easier in the long run to tell him now instead of getting hounded about it for the rest of today.

So Barty held eye contact with Regulus as he flatly replied, “It was getting too hot in here.”

Well, no one could accuse him of lying, at the very least.

“And why couldn’t you have just said that in the first place?”

Barty simply sighed and went back to his phone.

“Because it’s not necessarily your business what Evan and I get up to when you’re not around.” If only Regulus knew how true that really was.

“I suppose that’s fine, considering I’m not entirely sure that I even want to know. Unless the police are involved and I need to pay your bail. But also… he has clothes at your place?”

Barty didn’t see how Regulus hadn’t put the pieces together yet. It’s not like him and Evan were actively trying to hide it or anything. What’s more, Regulus was a pretty smart guy who should’ve realized what was going on between his two friends ages ago. Barty just figured that James’s general obliviousness must’ve been rubbing off on Regulus.

“Yes, he does. Why, are you jealous? I can get you a drawer too, if you want,” he offered.

Regulus looked around the room, unimpressed.

“I’m good, actually,” he said. “What I was getting at is that you and Evan are way too close of friends to be healthy.”

Barty just smirked at his phone.

That was certainly one way of putting it.

-

[mossy-paws]

Coroika Splatoon but it’s PHIGHTING! Roblox

Hi to my Coroika and phighting fans so how are we feeling about this one

cooked these up in a few hours! These honestly didn’t really take that long at all and were really fun to do since I got to play around with some charcoal brushes (I love doing everything in my power to NOT use midtones lmfao).

I tired to mimic the style of the manga a bit and I think i did relatively okay! I have a lot more of these planned so yeah >:3! Really excited to get to do them sometime

Og Panels:

[doctorwhommm]

Silly doodle for ya:

Owen and Ianto in one of those sibling 'this is our getting along shirt' (because they kept arguing and Gwen thought it was fucking hilarious)

how does it feel to be on my exact brain wavelength this is perfect i loved drawing this sm

is this not the plot of the last beacon ?

[akicult]

contains ; domesticity. bf!suguru. suggestive themes. modern / college au. geto wants you to be his housewife basically. just a short drabble. mostly fluff.

just thinking about college bf!suguru that didn’t realize he was a domestic person until he met you.

he’s still young, only in his third year at university and he’s still deciding on what his near future will look like. he’s had his fair share of girlfriends, and little hookups, and to be quite frank—he didn’t think he was done either.

how was he supposed to know the first night he met you, bent over his backseat, was about to be the start of the most serious relationship he’d ever have.

that night started the first of many, slowly realizing he was only asking to hookup just because he wanted to see you. how he’d send a pickup text, with a frown on his cheeks because he thought you were only in it for that reason.

and when he finally swallowed his stubbornness, he was met with the most amazing two years of his life, stuck with you by his side.

college bf!suguru who, until he met you, hardly even dreamt about a future where the love of his life would carry his child in her arms, kissing his cheek and brewing a cup of coffee for the two of them to share in the morning.

he didn’t even care to imagine what that future would be like, what the woman would look like. it didn’t feel achievable, or even desirable until he fell in love with you.

and it was a random realization, but looking back on it—it was building. slowly.

weeks and weeks spent of you just pampering him, praising him, for even the most average things. like, getting an amazing score on an exam, and all you had to do was say, “aw! good job, baby!” before he was putty in your fingertips.

his room is all messy, deep dark circles under his eyes. it was procrastination’s fault—his fingers hurt from typing on his computer all day thanks to waiting until hours before a huge essay was due.

you offered to leave his apartment, to give him the concentration he needs to get it finished, but he was ushering a “no, no stay,” because he honestly didn’t want you to leave. so you stayed, situating yourself in the other room, occasionally popping in to check up on him—and eventually lay on his bed after he insists you to.

it’s only when he finally finishes—8 hours later and it’s already nighttime. his shoulders are slouched, his back is stiff and he’s walking out of his room with his closed computer weighing by his side.

and you’re still there.

not only are you still there, but you’re washing his dishes.

hair clipped back, sweatshirt engulfing your body and sweats tightly tied around your waist. you’re humming along to some music that plays over a speaker—quiet but loud enough to know what song is playing.

you look so utterly homey.

so…domestic.

like you’ve settled into your personal home after a long day at work, just blissfully scrubbing away on glossy white dishes that were previously eaten on. your clothes acknowledge that you’re comfortable, uncaring of what he sees you in.

although it’s not just the fact that you’re dressed like that—it’s the fact that you’re cleaning his things.

cleaning a mess you didn’t even make, just out of the kindness in your heart that’s making geto’s throat close and his palms sweaty. he’s in absolute awe that he doesn’t realize you’ve noticed his presence until you’re turning to face him.

“oh! did you finish?” you ask, turning the water off and rushing towards him.

he’s blinking, nodding slowly. “yeah—just submitted it.”

“yay! ‘m so proud of you!” you grin, lacing your fingers behind the back of his neck and pulling him in for a chaste kiss like you always do—but it feels so much different this time.

like you’re congratulating him on a big promotion, tugging on his work tie and kissing him until he’s forgetting his own name.

he feels like his ring finger is so cold, and there’s a missing heavy weight that’s never even been there in the first place.

like he’s an idiot for not tying you down on the spot—wrapping vows and vows around the two of you until you’re barely mobile.

and he wants to be your doting husband for the rest of his life. he wants to walk through his front door every evening with an awaiting kiss to his cheek, and a home-cooked meal fresh in his senses.

he wants to go to sleep with you in his arms every night, mumbling sweet ‘i love you’’s after flickering off the bedside lamp.

and maybe, just maybe one day, he wants to hear the gentle pitter patter of two little feet charging down the hallway.

this is accidentally freud coded (emphasis on accidentally)

[shadowslocked]

Pierre and Quackity: talk about the harm that comes with doxxing their information and the dangers that they face because of it, even if unintentional, Pierre citing that he was a victim of such actions and is expressing worry for Quackity’s safety due to him being a young Hispanic man in America and that people should be careful

The Union: oh, so you support and encourage harassment then?

[messangerforthestars]

“We need more morally gray characters” you guys can barely handle topaz and jade.

[marlsswrites]

Summer camp AU, part 27!!

July 27th <3

Pressure - @jegulus-microfic - words: 517

First part Previous part

Regulus admittedly found it quite funny how into the game James was, it was adorable. The two had just finished setting up everything to play capture the flag with their group, when June suggested he and James joined in. Regulus didn't want to, but James wanted to, and his eyes were so convincing...

So here they were, Regulus on one side, James walking away from him slowly. Both eyed each other up, James most definitely looking more excited for this than Regulus was. He didn't even know how to play capture the flag!

"You're going down."

"Am I?" Regulus lowered his voice, smirking playfully as James - still facing him - walked further backwards.

The older hummed. "No pressure!" He chirped before jogging away.

-

Around three games later, everyone was knackered. Capture the flag in thirty degree British sun was not a good idea, Regulus was sure his skin was pinker than a pigs at this point. The kids seemed to finally shut up, the same with James actually. But Regulus had grown quite fond of his voice, sadly. God, what has he become?

He stood by the water tap, filling up his bottle with ice cold water, some of which he just splashed onto his face.

Water bottle filled, flushed, freckled face cooled down, he approached the only person here he actually cared to be in the presence of.

“Hi.” He smiled as he reached James. The older man had his legs sprawled out on the grass, plucking crisp, neat daisies from the floor and braiding them into a small chain that he ran his hands over.

Regulus was tired, knackered, absolutely exhausted, so he just dropped to the floor, his head on James’ tanned legs and his legs slight bent into a v shape on the refreshingly cold grass.

“Oh-“ James gasped. “Hi.”

Looking up through his thick eyelashes, he saw James was now propped up on his elbows, peering down at Regulus with dilated pupils and a tilt of his head on which placed his grinning face.

“Tired?” Chuckling, the brunette plucked another daisy from the soil.

Regulus hummed out a response, eyes trainer on James’ side profile and sharp yet sweet jawline as he turned his head to pick more flowers from the floor.

“What’re you doing?” Reaching his hand out, Regulus rain the daisy chain in James’ hands through his own. Their hands seemed to produce electricity as they touched, Regulus was sure they’d spark up any minute now, because James Potters touch was just so scarily powerful.

“Making daisy chains.” James smiled sweetly, gaze clearly flicking down to Regulus’ hand that was still almost in his. “Lil taught me how to, it helps with my ADHD, keeps my hands busy.” He continued.

Regulus listened, he nodded against James’ legs and heard the clips and huffs of James breath. He exhaled, finally letting himself go and just sitting in the comfort that was James Potter. The comfort that was James’ hands on his hair, now starting to place small daisies in his black curls.

Everything around him was a blur, insignificant, everything except James.

Next part