#shell scoop

[bashfulkisser]

Wow I can only wonder what this sassy thing's a S/I for-

Bonus Points if you can figure out who I plan on shipping them with <<

[comrade-slugcat]

Anyway baby transformers should look like metal sea urchins and infest crystals (gardening pest)

[horse-is-a-horse-of-course]

waiting for my students to say literally anything during the zoom call for class

[bio-stims]

nene kusanagi stimboard! 🎡🤖

credits: x x x | x x | x x x

[ultramantr1gger]

this picture is literally what this game is

[felidaefatigue]

jesus fucking christ michaels has gone off its absolute rocker i wanted to get some stuff to make my niece a cute mermaid themed treasure chest

i got a box, 2 tINY fake plants, some tiny shells, moss, and 2 string of pearl

you wanna know how batshit insane amount of money they wanted?

77 fucking dollars

what. in the fuck. the dollarstore is right there and slightly cheaper for some of it and i could craft most of it easily enough myself so like? EXCUSE ME?

[gutsfics]

ddo you guys wanna come over to my housefor dinner :) i made twice baked potatoes and deviled eggs

[scandalousadventures]

My Pathologic 3 fan theory ⬆️

He gave in

[totally-not-an-awkward-okapi]

Genuinely curious since I'm a big fan of both characters as of lately, but could you ramble a little about what gives egg vibes for Wither and Terrence?

Oh for sure for sure.

Terry is fairly self explanatory, at least to me? As a goth guy you’ve really gotta try to not be a little bit not-cis, and Terry.

Well he is:

A shapeshifter whose form is dictated by the perception of others.

He’s tormented by a body that changes against his will.

But in the end he rejects the man who would dwell in his body (Nightmare, his father), a body crafted for that purpose by, again his father.

And that’s- I mean- yeah!

(Hey look, it’s art from my Katherine Ford tag because I’m so normal about this headcannon.)

Wither is much weirder and more personal. (Read More-ing for space)

So… I’m non-binary and I’m asexual. I didn’t figure that out for a long time. Then one day I’m rereading the Academy X comics and-

-Wither’s whole thing is that he’s into Wallflower, but metatextually she’s just a fulcrum for Wither and Elixir to have feelings about each other, right?

And that, that finally makes me understand myself. That it’d been easier to convince myself I wanted to be with androgynous people then that I want to be them but didn’t actually want anyone.

So because Wither was the character who made that click she just kinda. Fell into my gender soup. Took my old pronouns on her way down. Whoops.

Anyway I’ve got less personal explanations for the headcannon now!

Again, it’s always going to be a little trans to have a power that emerges during puberty that makes your body turn against you.

That when the most basic trope of the sexes is that women create and men destroy, she’s an artist who’s body is designed to do nothing more then destroy.

That she’s living in fear of what her body wants, that the resolution to that fear is Selene, the monstrous feminine incarnate.

But that’s all just kinda working backwards from the understanding that at this point she just is a messy, problematic trans girls in my head and I love her for that.

Honestly the best way to explain is just to give you my big ol’ semi-organized Katherine Ford playlist.

[sarahbleszynskihairandmakeup]

Ice Cream Sundae Taco Delight Transform leftover taco shells into dessert with ice cream sundae toppings such as chocolate sauce, caramel, sprinkles, and M&M's.

[sw5w]

You Know, I Find That Jar Jar Creature to Be a Little Odd

STAR WARS EPISODE I: The Phantom Menace 00:48:55

[elpha00]

After the third session of wild life, the snails are deactivated. (Not killed, necessarily; they were never really alive in the first place. Just lovingly crafted shells filled with basic commands to follow.) They are left behind as empty husks, statues.

Gem scoops up her snail, pats her head, and creates a small space in the barn for it. She will occasionally voice her thoughts to it as she passes by. 

Bdubs immediately chucks his in the river. He’s done with it.

Tango, still terrified of his snail, gets Etho to throw it into the river for him.

Joel takes his and Lizzie’s and places them together under his sign on the reputation board, and draws a little winky face and a heart on the sign.

Lizzie, spotting this, does not change Joel’s score on the board. She does keep the snails together, setting them down by her campfire.  

Grian and Mumbo take Skizz’s snail and put it in the tunnel connecting their bridges. It jumpscares Skizz. Grian later takes Mumbo’s snail and places it in the exact same location. It jumpscares Mumbo. 

BigB creates an altar in the center of his head-home, and carefully positions his snail on it.

Pearl leaves her snail with Billy (her dog), to keep each other company. She returns later to see that Billy has completely chewed up the snail statue with a big, thoughtless grin on his face. She hosts a funeral for it. 

Martyn takes his (and Ren’s) all the way to the other side of the server and buries them deep underground. He doesn't trust that the snails won't be activated again.

[hanniebaeee]

Jisung's Baby Fever

Jisung x fem!reader

Warnings: suggestive? MDNI

Genre: established relationship, fluff

Summary: You and Jisung are out at the beach, and witnessing a certain interaction has Jisung experiencing a wild case of baby fever.

It was a beautiful day. Sunny and warm - and Jisung had a free day in forever, so you two were at the beach. The sand was warm beneath your knees as you smoothed out the walls of the sandcastle.

A little moat encircled the castle, complete with a small bridge made from a piece of driftwood you found earlier.

"Masterpiece," you muttered to yourself as you leaned back to admire your work. 

Jisung sat on a beach towel, sunglasses perched low on his nose as he watched you, strumming his guitar. 

"Masterpiece? Sure," he teased, a smirk pulling at his lips.

You shot him a glare over your shoulder. "Don’t insult the castle you didn't lift a single finger to help build."

"I’m supervising, and providing the background score," he quipped, strumming the guitar harder. "You’re welcome."

He put his guitar aside with a grin and laid back, his arms folded under his head. 

Before you could fire back, a tiny voice interrupted, "Can I help?"

You looked down to see a little girl, no older than three, clutching a bright pink bucket and looking up at you with wide, hopeful eyes. Her mum waved from a beach towel nearby, giving you an apologetic look. 

"Of course you can!" you said warmly, giving her mum a thumbs up, and shifting over to make room. "Here, you can be in charge of the turrets."

The girl giggled happily and announced that her name is Mina, plopping down beside you and immediately getting to work. Her enthusiasm was contagious, and soon the two of you were modifying the castle. You helped her scoop wet sand into her bucket, and look for shells and other things for decoration. Mina squealed in joy as you showed her some sea glass and you both got back to your castle, giggling. 

Jisung propped himself on one elbow as he watched the scene unfold. Ok. Wow. What's going on?

His heart twisted in ways he hadn’t expected. The sight of you laughing with the little girl, doing something as simple as building a sandcastle, hit him hard. He watched in silence for a good fifteen minutes.

“Look at her, Sungie!” You said, with a little laugh, watching the little one put shells on the castle.

"She’s adorable," Jisung said, his voice tinged with something you couldn’t quite place. "But, uh... I think it’s time to go home."

"Already? We just got here." You frowned.

He ran a hand through his hair, visibly flustered.

"Yeah, well, I’m... feeling some things. And it’s kinda a lot." He said, grabbing his guitar because he needed to ground himself. 

“Feeling things? What things?” You asked, eyebrows raised. 

"It means I’m looking at you playing mom over here, and it’s doing things to me," he said, his voice dropping slightly. "Like, maybe-we-should-make-one-of-our-own kind of things."

Your eyes went wide as you said, "I’m sorry. What?!"

"I’m just saying. You’re over here building castles with babies, and now I’m thinking about babies. Specifically ours." Jisung shrugged, trying and failing to appear nonchalant.

"Han Jisung!" you hissed, glancing at the Mina, who was too engrossed in her work to notice. "You can’t just say stuff like that!"

"Why not? You’re the one who started this," he teased, leaning in closer. "This is all your fault."

You huffed, turning back to the castle to hide the blush creeping up your neck. "I’m not abandoning my new bestie just because you’re having an existential crisis."

"Existential crisis?" he repeated, feigning offense. "I’ll have you know this is a perfectly rational reaction to seeing my insanely hot wife being ridiculously good with kids."

"Goodbye, Jisung," you said flatly, refusing to look at him.

"Fine," he said, standing and brushing off the sand. "If you won’t come willingly..."

Jisung looked over at the girl's mum and said, “Your little girl is amazing, she's such a joy!”

And the lady smiled, thanking him. And he said, “We're kinda heading back, so -”

You glared at him as he made small talk with Mina's mum as she came over, and then she thanked you for playing with her daughter. 

You gave Mina a little high five before helping Jisung gather your things with a stony expression. He could see that you were miffed as you followed him really slow. When you two were a safe distance away from the family, Jisung struck.

You barely had time to process what he was doing before he scooped you up in his arms.

"Jisung!" you squealed, wriggling as he started walking toward the car. "Put me down!"

"Not a chance," he said, grinning. "You're slacking."

“Jisung, I swear to God!”

"You’re gonna thank me later, babe. Promise." Jisung chuckled, tightening his hold on you.

"I don't even know what to do with you," you grumbled, though you couldn’t fight the smile tugging at your lips.

"You love it," he shot back, pressing a quick kiss to your forehead. "Now let’s go. We’ve got a baby to plan."

“Oh my God! You can't just-”

He interrupted you by popping open the back door loudly and set you down gently on the seat.

"Okay, thanks for the ride. You can go now," you said, crossing your arms in mock indignation.

But instead of shutting the door and heading to the driver’s seat, Jisung climbed in after you, closing the door behind him.

"What are you doing?" You gave him a suspicious look. 

"I think you need some convincing," he said matter-of-factly, settling in beside you.

"Convincing me of what?”

"That we need to fast-track this whole ‘baby’ thing. Like, today."

"Have you lost your mind, Ji?" You asked with a soft laugh. 

"Probably," he admitted, leaning in closer with a grin. "But can you blame me? You were out there looking all cute and mom-like, and now my brain won’t shut up about how amazing you’d look holding our baby. You’re doing this to me, babe. This is your fault."

"Oh really?" you asked, trying to keep a straight face as he edged even closer.

"Listen," he said, his voice dipping lower as his gaze locked onto yours. "I’m serious. I was sitting there, minding my own business, and then suddenly, bam - baby fever. And it’s bad, babe. Real bad."

You laughed, shaking your head. "You are ridiculous."

"You should see yourself through my eyes right now. You’re beautiful, you’re amazing with kids, and you’re mine. And I’m just sitting here wondering how I got this lucky and how fast I can get you to come home with me."

His words made your heart do a funny little flip, even as you tried to keep things light.

"Jisung, you can’t just throw around words like that and expect me to go with it."

"Ahh babe," he murmured, leaning in until his nose was almost brushing yours. "I just need you to kiss me and admit that I’m right."

"Right about what?" you asked, your voice a teasing whisper.

"Right about us," he said softly, his hand coming up to gently cup your cheek. "Right about how we’d be amazing parents. Right about how we’re meant to be going home and working on the baby making right now."

You didn’t have a clever comeback for that. Instead, your heart thudded loudly in your chest as he closed the small gap between you, his lips brushing against yours.

The kiss was soft at first, almost tentative, but it quickly deepened as his hand moved to the back of your neck, pulling you closer. His other hand rested on your waist, anchoring you to him.

When you finally pulled back, breathless, he rested his forehead against yours, a triumphant smirk tugging at his lips.

"So," he said, his voice low and teasing. "Are you convinced yet? Or do I need to keep going?"

You rolled your eyes, though you couldn’t hide your smile. "You’re impossible."

"I think you mean irresistible," he countered, leaning in for another kiss. "Now, how about we head home and make some magic happen?"

You laughed, pushing him away playfully. "You’re lucky I love you, Han Jisung. But fine. Let’s go."

"That’s my girl," he said, pulling you close one last time before climbing out of the back seat to let you take the wheel.

And as you settled in for the ride, you couldn’t help but think that maybe, he was right.

Divider: @saradika-graphics

Tags: @moonchild9350 @velvetmoonlght @eastjonowhere @pixie-felix @sailor--sun @chancloud8 @captainchrisstan @hansmic @emilyywhyy @inlovewithstraykids @my-neurodivergent-world @nightmarenyxx @channie4lifeee143127 @lezleeferguson-120

[glindyupland]

.

[boysdontcryboycry]

uve heard of creelarke u've heard of hoppenzo(?) u haven't heard of [REDACTED] but u really should, now introducing the hot new old man yaoi fresh off the press, featuring a character who only exists in a few of our heads,

vichard. dicktor? vick? richtor?

aka my own delusions about ted wheeler's dad (dick wheeler, just go with it) shipping off to morocco in 1942 and getting verrrry close with a blue-eyed blond dreamboat from nevada, also with a blonde wife waiting at home

[sai-int]

Do you think RTS Simon would get reader a pet, like a cat to keep her company while he’s gone? I totally see him getting jealous and annoyed with the fur ball whenever he gets home and just wants to be with his pretty bird.

oh absolutely. he is so that man. grumpy, territorial, but he still buys you the damn cat.

he doesn’t even like cats.

but you’d been quiet the last few times he was gone. not needy, just… lonesome. and simon, for all his hard edges and cold silences, knows that you’re softer than you let on. you don’t complain, never beg him to stay, but he sees the way you linger in doorways when he packs, the way you press your face into his shirt when you think he’s not looking.

so he brings home a cat. doesn’t announce it or make it a big thing—just shows up one day, duffle slung over one shoulder and a small, squirming lump of fur tucked under his arm like cargo.

“don’t get used t’this,” he mutters, setting the kitten on the floor like it personally offended him. “thing’s for you, not me.”

—but you beam. scoop up the fluffball with a gasp and immediately start baby-talking to it, pressing kisses to its little ears

and simon genuinely feels like he might just die on the spot.

(you name her shelly, after the endless bullet casings/shells you find in his kit... his pockets... his shoes... it's a problem. he’s secretly obsessed—loves when you find one and he can hear you shout his name all angrily across the house)

—but the second he comes home and sees her curled up in your lap, purring away while you giggle and coo, simon is scowling. dramatic. brooding. sulking like a teenager.

“that my spot, sweet’art?” he drawls, standing at the edge of the bed, arms crossed.

“youre always my favorite,” you say, smiling sweetly—but you don’t move the cat.

his eye twitches.

and the worst part?? she likes to sleep between you two. like some tiny, smug little gatekeeper.

“don’t give me that look,” you laugh when he glares at her one night. “she kept me company.”

“she’s in my bloody way.”

and when she nips at his sock or curls on his pillow, he grumbles “fuckin’ gremlin,” under his breath—but never kicks her off. just deals with it, because you love her.

(he secretly pets her when you’re not around. she purrs like mad. he pretends it didn’t happen.)

but one night, long after you’ve fallen asleep, he’s lying there wide awake—your body pressed against his, the cat snuggled up behind your knees. and he realizes: you’re not alone when he’s gone. you’re loved. warm. safe.

and maybe the furball’s not so bad after all. (he still growls “move over, princess,” when she takes up too much bed space. but he scratches her head while he says it.)

and when he heads out the next time, he kisses you once—soft, lingering—and then crouches to scratch under the cat’s chin.

“y’keep her safe while i’m gone, yeah?” a beat. “or i’ll find someone who will.”

she meows like she understands. and when you wave him off from the porch, cat perched on your shoulder like a little guardian, simon feels something in his chest shift.

he has a home now.

fur, claws, pretty wife and all.