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[cubbihue]

I was just looking at you itty bitty FOP au (it's amazing and cool btw)

But one question was floating around my head the entire time I was looking through it

What other things does Changeling Timmy hate/dislikes besides muffins?

Timmy doesn't like celebrating his birthday. His parents never celebrated it at his house, so getting one feels... odd.

Once, his friends tried throwing him a surprise birthday party. At the time, it had been the biggest most exciting thing he'd received! A whole party just for him!!!

But afterwards, Timmy found that he actually... hated the attention he got. Being at the center of everything, having everybody watch as you open presents, covered in silly string and streamers and confetti, where all his opinions mattered above others... No, he'd rather avoid doing that again.

Timmy plans to never tell people about his birthday when he moves to his new location. He doesn't like surprises or sudden noise.

Bitties Series: [Start] > [Previous] > [Next]

[d-llahanspade]

[pureworlds]

joffrey bringing a toy for lucerys broke me right then and there.

[hisbodycorpse]

▘ 一个爱抚， 𒂭╲ #𝓐𝐜͟𝐭͟𝐨͟𝐂͟𝐫͟𝐢͟𝐦͟𝐢͟𝐧͟𝐚͟𝐥. 𒅂 “ 🛡️

[mai-family]

Greetings, I am Waleed. On October 7th, my family and I were forced to leave our home in the northern part of Gaza. It was a sanctuary filled with love and hope, but circumstances pushed us to flee to the camps in the south.

Now, I find myself in a tough spot. Our home was completely destroyed by airstrikes, leaving my family and me homeless. Now, we're living in a cramped tent in Rafah, Gaza Strip. It's a tough situation, especially with four young kids to care for: Karam and Abdelkareem, my 9-year-old twin sons, Joanna, my 6-year-old daughter, and little Lana, who is just 2.5 years old.

Life in the tent is incredibly difficult. We struggle to find enough water, often having to carry heavy gallons from far away. The toilet situation is dire too – just one for 250 people in the camp.

With no electricity or gas, we rely on wood fires for cooking. But gathering enough wood is a constant challenge. Our living conditions are so bad that even animals would struggle to survive here.

My biggest worry is for my children. They've lost their education and the chance to play like other kids. Sometimes, I can't even find enough food to feed them properly.

But amidst all this hardship, there's a glimmer of hope. I appeal to you for assistance. We desperately need your support to cover travel expenses and seek refuge in a safer place. Your generosity could make all the difference for my family. Thank you for considering our plea.

https://www.tumblr.com/mai-family/765071396584947712/greetings-i-am-waleed-on-october-7th-my-family?source=share

[marveluniversehero]

The OG 6 Avengers - Marvel Rivals

[unionyaoizine]

New PFP, banner, and assets!

Art by @cyndavilachase!

Logo by @gravityfying!

[marblish0220]

[captaincapsicle83]

One Night Stand

Bucky Barnes x Reader

A/N: I don't know if anyone's noticed, but Clint Barton is my muse and he runs the cult...that I'm...in (I hope we get the reference or I sound insane). I just like writing silly Clint into my silly stories, I just noticed that theme.

TW: cursing, mentions of glass, mentions of injury,

Summary: You wake up the night after one of Tony Starks' biggest parties. And you're not in YOUR bedroom.

Pairings: Bucky Barnes x Reader, Tony Stark x reader (platonic), Bruce Banner x reader (platonic)

You wake up, light streaming through the blinds onto your face. You groan. This is why you got rid of the blinds, light always came through them.

...wait a minute.

You already got rid of the blinds.

You shot up in your bed. The bed. It wasn't yours. This pillow wasn't yours, this black comforter wasn't yours, and these clothes...

Holy mother fucker of Odinson.

You weren't wearing any clothes.

"What the fuck?" You say, out loud and clear. Something stirs in the bed.

You look over in horror, and an unidentified lump is hidden beneath the covers.

Okay, you think. Nows your chance. Nows your chance to be a reasonable adult, and talk this out with this person.

(Within seconds you have gathered your lost articles of clothing and dashed out of the strangers room).

You were lucky in a sense, the sense being that this person lived in the tower that your best friend owned. Him and all his avenger friends lived here, and he gave you a room on his floor that you used sometimes.

Oh shit.

You slept with an avenger.

And it wasn't even Thor. He wasn't ok earth right now. That sucked. He was on your bucket list.

You sat on your bed, pouting mostly, wanting desperately to nurse your throbbing hangover.

You didn't quite have the guts to leave the room just yet. You remembered the in-building AI right at that moment.

"Friday," you croacked out. Your mouth was horribly dry, and you were also in desperate need of some chapstick. "Where's Tony?"

You weren't sure exactly the extent of what the AI could do, but she seemed happy to answer you.

"Mr. Stark is in his lab, accompanied by Dr. Banner. Would you like me to page him for you?"

"Can I just...go there?" You asked. Your room was much darker, having black out curtains instead of blinds.

Curse the blinds. And their creator. Edward Bevan. Curse him.

"Of course, Miss L/n."

Luckily for you, you knew where Tony's lab was, and what floor number to press in the elevator.

You kept your eyes closed on the blinding ride down, the bright fluorescent lights giving you an aneurysm.

The lights in the lab were even worse.

You walked into the room, eyes squinted and using your hands to shield yourself. Tony clearly found this hilarious, chuckling like an idiot.

Not even chuckling. The bastard was giggling.

"Lights not made for a hangover sweetheart," He shook his head, and you shit him a snarl and a death glare. Bruce gave you a sympathetic look and was holding out a bottle of water.

"You know any trusted detectives?" You asked, smiling at Bruce, and taking the drink from him gratefully.

"Ooh, for what?" Tony asked, looking intrigued. "Spill the tea sis."

You did, two mouths were agape when you finished.

After a minute of silence, Tony whips his head towards Bruce, "Was it-?"

"No!" Bruce scowls, then cringes and looks at you. "Not that-...I'm not saying...I wasn't even drinking last night, I would remember."

"Oh-kay," Tony says, exasperated. "We'll it wasn't me-"

"Thank god."

"It wasn't...Thor."

"Unfortunately."

"And it wasn't Peter...he doesn't have a room here."

"And he's a child!" You mention, giving Tony a disgusted look.

He waves you off, tapping a little metal tool to his forehead, presumably to help him think.

"Anything you remember? Did you get a look at them?"

You think about what you could possibly remember. Last thing last night was downing shots with Tony and a bunch of his friends, and getting told names you didn't commit to memory.

"They still have blinds in their room," you throw out there, shrugging. Nothing else came to mind.

"Friday," Tony calls out. "How many avengers on the 93rd floor have blinds in their room still?"

"About 7 sir," she answers. The only woman who would ever call Tony Stark, and the likes of him, sir.

"Which ones?"

"Mr. Rogers, Mr. Wilson, Vision, Miss Romanoff, Mr. Barton, Mr. Barnes, and Dr. Banner."

"Yay!" Tony says, and you can't pin if it was sarcastic. "That leaves six."

"Yay," you and Bruce both answer monotonously.

"Hmm," Tony taps his chin. "Do you think putting out a message, asking who got laid recently, would be too bold."

"A little," you responded, arms crossed.

Tony sat down at his table, you following, and poor Bruce too, who clearly was sucked into this against his better judgement.

"You don't happen to remember what room?"

You did not. You had dashed so quickly, and it all kinda looked the same.

"Who do you want it to be?" Tony whispered. "We can just...let you pick and say you did 'em."

"Bartons kinda hot," you shrugged.

"Bartons kinda married," Tony mimicked your expression.

"He was...big...er..."

"Are you fat shaming your fuck buddy y/n?"

"No! I'm just saying...They werent...I dont think it was Natasha."

"Yeah, neither do I. So, assuming Bartons faithful, that leaves three men and a robot."

"Does vision have a-..."

"No."

"So then, that's three men," you say.

○○○

Tony invited you to lunch with the team. Subtle.

You, him, and poor Bruce (still looped into the mess) stood at the back of the room.

"Okay, so...I was thinking," Bruce starts. Tony looks surprised at the input and begs him to go on. "Well, if everyone's here, you can go look at those threes rooms, and see if they look...familiar?"

Bruce's suggestion let's a hush fall over the three of you.

○○○

The first room you entered, Sam Wilson's. You knew immediately it wasn't the right one, it being surprisingly bright in nature.

But, you were a nosy little fucker, and therefore when you saw the pictures that, from afar, looked a lot like Captain America fanart, you had to take a gander.

A few cellphone photos later, and you stuffed the drawings back into the drawer they were sticking out of. You thought about the luxury snooping would be, but figured your luck was being pressed already.

The next room was right next to it, belonging to Bucky Barnes.

You turned the handle of the door, carefully making your way in while watching the hallway. You had to be sure no one saw you enter.

Your back still to the room, you carefully and quietly shut the bedroom door. You had your phone still out, in your right hand.

You turned around, and dropped the Stark branded cellphone to the ground. It was new, without a case, therefore you were probably shit out of luck.

You didn't have time to check on it though, because your bright ass didn't check the room for occupants.

Well, occupant. The occupant.

Bucky Barnes.

The blinds were open, shining midday light into the room. The dark bedding was in a disarray ok the mattress, a clear indicator of a rush out of it.

The man looked at you, mouth slightly agape. Your mind was racing, a thousand miles a minute, trying to find a good way to break the silence.

"Did I have have sex with you?" You wanted to slap yourself silly.

He seems to have to take the time to pick his jaw up off the floor. He clears his throat (ew, fuck, was that attractive? Were you attracted to that?), and says, "Well...maybe I need to explain a few things."

"Do you?" You question, your voice about ten octaves above where it normally sat. How many times could you ask yourself, "What the fuck is wrong with you?"

He seemed to swallow (and you only noticed because you were absolutely OGLING his features), and trys to talk, coming up with nothing.

He motions for you to sit down on the little couch he had, matching his dark aesthetic.

"Let me just tell you what happened last night."

○○○

"Do you still have a dartboard?!" You screamed into Tony's ear. No reason to. It was the after party of the real party, the only people left were the residents of the tower.

"Ooh! Yes! Darts!" Tony hopped up, like a joyful child.

"No!" Steve grabbed the back of Tony's shirt, pulling him back. Tony's dramatic ass flopped himself onto the floor, whining like a toddler.

"I never get to do anything fun!"

You had abandoned the idea of darts, and were now playing a game of dodgeball with Clint. Except that there were no balls, only drinking glasses.

It was around that time the sober members elected to take the drunkest of the drunk to bed.

Steve took Tony, Bucky chose you over Clint (leaving Nat stuck with him).

Clint collapsed himself to the floor, smashing his knee on a pile of drinking glass shards (you had missed).

"Point by omission!" You yelled like a battle cry.

Bucky touched your shoulder, "Cmon doll, let's head to bed."

"For you? Anything!" You threw the glass you were holding in Clints direction, and he screamed at you in Arabic (no one knew Clint spoke Arabic. Upon questioning, neither did he).

Bucky got you to the hallway, and that was about as much as he could do without picking you up and carrying you to bed, which he admitted he would have if you didn't scream in protest when he tried.

He led you to your room, and left.

He got in his bed, closed his eyes, and let out a breath. Before he could process the sound of his door open, you catapulted yourself onto the bed.

Apparently, he tried to send you back a couple times, but after that you would start removing articles of clothing everytime you came in.

Well, that explained that situation.

"So I eventually just let you stay," Bucky shrugged. "I was tired."

You couldn't decided whether to laugh or cry, finally saying, "Holy fuck, I'm so sorry."

Bucky let out a loud laugh, his smile cresting dimples under his eyes, "Trust me, don't worry about it. Steve is a much worse drunk."

"I'm gonna need that story."

"I could tell it to you over dinner," You almost don't take it in before saying yes. You only hesitate slightly, before smiling and agreeing.

That smooth fucker.

[lafaiette]

Gods I feel you I'm only 10 hours in after having received the game as a gift and I REALLY try to like it but it just ... doesn't feel like Dragon Age. Characters know stuff they shouldn't know about, the game keeps talking down to me, nothing I did in the previous games mattered, the tone is completely different, the mature storytelling of the previous games seems to be missing so far & what I heard so far of how the lore and the characters from previous games have been handled is honestly the worst part and breaks my heart. idk even if i wanna finish the game at this point anymore, I'm just kinda ... sad.

I'm so sad and disappointed, too, I remember our conversations, fics, and headcanons about DA! We were so excited and happy, because Inquisition, DA2, and DAO were genuinely well-made and aimed at pleasing the fans, despite their faults.

DATV is a good action game, no doubt about that. The combat is fun, there is a lot to explore and discover, and many locations are beautiful, even though some are terrible to navigate (Dock Town's structure makes no sense). But that's it - it's a good action game with the name "Dragon Age" pasted on it. It doesn't feel like it's part of the series, it constantly treats the player like an idiot, some references to past games and characters are literally hidden in the brief descriptions of the mementos, and there is even a Glossary to make sure the new players don't get frustrated.

Everything is safe and aseptic, cleaned of every deep piece of lore that could have scared new fans into buying or continuing the game. Even the banters lack the depth of the previous games.

A good game company should lure new players in not by rejecting their past entries, but by making them look even more interesting with their sequels.

Bioware wasn't afraid of offering piece of lore after piece of lore in Inquisition - it was a game set in a precise moment, whose prologue was directly tied to the events of the previous game, and new players had to accept this if they decided to buy it and play it. If they liked that premise, all that information and those details, then they were more than welcome - they were encouraged! - to go back, try the older games, and see how it had all started. It was a game made for the fans the company had already managed to win over, not for possible fans who may or may not bring new money in.

In DATV the new players can jump right in after quickly learning who Solas is and what he's trying to do, and old fans are left with an empty shell, with minor references that are supposed to make us feel happy and accomplished peppered here and there, while all our past choices and our favorite characters are forgotten or brought back with a terrible case of amnesia. It's lazy, infuriating, and very sad, and it smells of reboot, because the new devs probably realized they couldn't keep up with the amount of lore and choices the series contain, and they needed to start anew.

[fictionfordays]

Suna Rintarou

Anime Corner | Art Room

A/N: In love with his face

Join the Taglist! || Ko-fi || Artistree || ArtStation

Tags: @enchantedforest-network @fuyuswifey @manjirwo @qichun @stopisa @serenesaku @moonartemisia @mikage-rehoe @benkeibear

I do not own these characters. All rights to the original creators. All content—created rights are reserved to Wallabypirate©2024.

[callisteios]

it is time for The House Spreadsheet

so yeah for those who don't know i have spent like two years making (and constantly mentioning that i am making) a spreadsheet to track several things in the 2004-2012 tv show house md

I'll probably rb with details/graphs but without further ado:

Here it is!!!

some disclaimers:

I may have got things wrong!!!!

PLEASE note above, i am just one person with a poor attention span, i did my best but may have missed instances of something im tracking.

if you do notice something wrong you can let me know (timestamps please) and if i verify i'll update the sheet

please don't take the notes seriously, they were just a stream of conciousness reaction to keep me sane

re: the things wrong point, i definitely got the medical categories wrong so if anyone has better suggestions i am Begging You please come to me

If you make anything with this i'd love to see, so please tag me when you do :)

[lameow-l]

trying to make sense of his gay shirt

3 days left…

[bear-cubs-art-things]

Carrying the banner.

Free palestine 🇵🇸

[aliusfrater]

i wonder if jared's seen his gay porn poster

[mai-family]

Can you donate for my kids 🙏🙏

With great pain and sadness, I write these words that reflect a harsh reality that no father or mother can bear. Today is the birthday of my twin children, who are completing nine years of life, but in these years they have lived what adults cannot bear. Nine years have passed full of suffering and war, in which their school was destroyed and their dreams were assassinated, their grandfather, uncle and family were killed, and our house was razed to the ground.

We now live in a tent, without security or a roof to protect their little dreams, which no longer exceed the most basic rights: a book, a pen, and a smile without fear. Despite all of this, they dream of a better future, and I hope that this dream will not be killed as our loved ones were killed.

Today, I do not ask for anything for myself, but for my children who smile despite the wounds. I ask every merciful heart to contribute even a little to restore a part of their stolen childhood. Your donation could mean the warmth of our tent in the winter, the education they missed, or even a simple moment of joy on their birthday.

Don't let my children's dreams wither in this cruel storm. You are their only hope.