#me pulls it a bit:

[3-aem]

tonight on three doesn’t know what they’re doing: my circuit breaker tripped (???) for my microwave and not knowing what i was doing i kinda fiddled with it

pros: apparently i fiddled with it correctly bc i turned it back on

cons: according to the internet and the very angry warning label i probably should Not have done that 😭

[hinamie]

mentor

[floccinaucinihilipilificationa]

[animalinvestigator]

happy 9 years

here's to 990 more

[basslinegrave]

pin-up

b&w originals

[babacontainsmultitudes]

RIP Will Campos the only person who was murdered this episode.

[otaku553]

He’s perfectly sane I swear

My submission for @where-does-the-heart-lie‘s DTIYS! Congrats on one year on tumblr!! Your art is always an absolute delight to see :D I hope this does it justice!

[24601orwhatever]

KYLE ADAMS as GRANTAIRE

mastered by @bikinibottomdayz

[lollitree]

when the law starts catching up to you

[mechanicalinfection]

He gets a little quirky at night.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

So I was scrolling along and accidentally clicked on a tag of some post. But it opened with this as the banner and I thought it was perfect. 🧡

SUCK IS DICK SUNDAY

[heartorbit]

🩷💛💚💜

[hinamie]

bunch of portraits

[brother-emperors]

--or perhaps,' continues Octavian. 'You're angry that I've outplayed you at your own game because you were too busy fucking in your old master's house to notice anything that was going on around you.'

He smiles suddenly, bright and wide. 'Enjoy the party, Marcus.'

this scene takes place sometime after philippi, and was originally just some historical fiction I was writing last year for fun focusing on antony, octavian, and agrippa. then I got stressed out watching the new season of a show, started drawing while it played, and ended up turning it into a short comic lmao

the dialogue in this scene is referencing this bit out of Suetonius:

In early youth he incurred the reproach of sundry shameless acts. Sextus Pompey taunted him with effeminacy; Mark Antony with having earned adoption by his uncle through unnatural relations; and Lucius, brother of Mark Antony, that after sacrificing his honour to Caesar he had given himself to Aulus Hirtius in Spain for three hundred thousand sesterces, and that he used to singe his legs with red-hot nutshells, to make the hair grow softer. What is more, one day when there were plays in the theatre, all the people took as directed against him and loudly applauded the following line, spoken on the stage and referring to a priest of the Mother of the Gods, as he beat his timbrel: "See'st how a wanton's finger sways the world?"

Suetonius Augustus 68

what a fun group of people!! they should all eat each other

[6okuto]

i was thinking about oikawa and i just KNOW that he LOVES to be babied. that's just him, yk? like that's totally him and i would love to read about 30 year old professional volleyball player oikawa tooru being babied by his wife

(timeskip, fem!reader) he's just like me fr. i actually wrote something different but there wasn't enough babying so here u go 🥹🙆🏻‍♀️

tooru is one of if not the hardest worker you know, never losing sight of his ambitions and passion. determination lines his veins, and late nights of practice and analysis have seeped into the cartilage between his bones, gluing together what makes tooru oikawa, #17, setter for club athletico san juan.

but it's not oikawa, it's tooru, the boy you met in high school who stumbled down the steps after using a cheesy pick-up line on you and whines when you try to leave his arms for the washroom, who's your husband.

"long day?"

tooru groans and buries himself deeper into the crook of your neck, arms wrapped snug around your middle. he didn't really need to answer—the lit street lights and dim sky outside were answer enough.

holding back a laugh, you comb your fingers through his hair, the familiar scent of jasmine and vanilla dancing its way to you. "proud of you, baby."

your husband's voice is quiet, "thank you."

"you want me to run a bath for you?"

"...maybe later?"

"m'kay. you wanna stay here for a while?"

"yeah." his fingers trace hearts across your back, and when he pouts, you feel it against your skin. "i'm so tired."

pouting too in response, you press a kiss to his head and rub his back. "i know, baby, at least you're home now."

"but then i have to leave you tomorrow."

"and then you come back to me again tomorrow."

"but then i leave again—oh my god, what kind of sick world do we live in?" he whines, letting out a noise that could be described as a choked sob.

and this time, you let yourself laugh. "aw, my poor tooru,"—you cradle his head against you —"the horrors of a job have caught you."

"what if we worked somewhere together?" he lifts his head to look at you.

you raise a brow. "i love you, you're the light of my life, but you are not getting me on that court."

he gapes. "betrayal from my own wife?"

"okay, then come to my job."

"...well—"

"betrayal from my own husband?" you gasp and tooru pouts again—though at this point you're not sure if the original pout ever left to begin with.

it's still just as endearing, and your expression softens. "you'll be fine, 'ru. i'll baby you as much as you want every time you come home."

his pout pulls even more at his lips, and you mirror it. bringing your hands up, you hold his face and squish his cheeks with your words— "i, tooru oikawa, love my wife and my job, and i'm a strong, independent guy who can do anything."

"d'you rilly hafta hol' m'face?"

"it's for the effect and affirmations," you tease, before your amusement softens to something else. "how long are you out tomorrow?"

tooru's jaw drops as much as it can with you holding him in place. "why would you—9 hours!"

and before the dread of leaving you can fully take hold, you kiss his forehead. the apple of his left cheek, the right, then his eyes, his nose, both sides of his jaw, his lips—all with a resounding mwah!

tooru's arms cling tighter, and he leans into each kiss, always chasing your affection though he doesn't have to. you smile at the flush dappled across his face. "see? a kiss for each hour."

he opens his mouth to answer, but then the pout comes back. "each half hour at least. each 15 minutes—"

"tooru." you snort. "what is that, like, 36 kisses?"

"okay, a kiss for each minute."

"babe—"

"you know how hard i train, i know you watched my interview."

and you really don't think you'll make it to 100, much less 500 kisses, but you'll try anyway, even if after the first one, tooru says, "one."

you snicker as you place the next four, and he counts them before pointing out, "you know, kissing your husband is way easier than doing rdl's."

"yes, yes, i know, honey." you softly laugh and press another to the spot between his brows. "i'm not complaining."

he counts again—six, seven, eight, nine—and you remember the determination and patience of oikawa was never separate from tooru, especially not when it came to you.

[minhosblr]

He is my Roman Empire

Random Minho gifsets [2/∞]