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[amygdalae]

small collection of Laios Tshirtguy moments. thank u Ryoko Kui

[isjasz]

[Day 266] :DDD

[decaffeinatedpartymuggoop]

My favorite thing about Annabeth is her wardrobe.

Cause like, Rick simplifies her clothes in a way a man would, and you can tell.

Cause in EVERY book, from The Lightning Thief to Chalice, she’s in the goddamn CHB shirt. With like some shorts or cargo pants. Nothing more, nothing less.

He’s made improvements over the years, giving her some other clothes. But he’ll always come back to old faithful.

Like, he most definitely did it on accident, but he made her so Adam Sandler and I love it

[hg-aneh]

😔...

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Shell quirks! Part 3, Donnie!

[1-2-3-4]

Donnie, you flat fuck. Pancake lookin mf. He makes for the perfect floating table when relaxing in the water (at least until he’s awake enough to murder, that is)

Ah, yes, familial urge to stack random objects on a sleeping person to see if they notice. I used to balance, like, up to five plushies on my dad’s head before he’d wake up lol

[maikamaika-art]

He's so normal, guys. I promise. He's sooooo normal. Normalest guy ever. (Lying)

[eyeorwhy]

he needs to actually calm down

can he fucking stop

[secretly-a-trekkie]

pov its 4AM and your marshal commander refuses to sleep

[a-most-beloved-fool]

"You have never faced a death" is possibly the most patently insane thing possible to say to James T. Kirk, who has

survived a famine and genocide at age 13, in which over 4000 people died

survived an attack on the Farragut which killed half the crew, including a captain who he cared about, and which he blamed himself for failing to stop

been forced to kill Gary Mitchell, an old friend of his

lost numerous lovers, including a woman carrying his child, and including some he was at least partially responsible for the deaths of

arrived too late to save the lives of his brother and sister-in-law

lost too many crewmembers to count, and you know he held himself personally responsible for each and every one of those

probably more that I'm forgetting about

and then Spock dies, and Kirk fucking AGREES.

He says, yes, you're right. I haven't faced death. Not like this.

Not like this.

All of those deaths he's lived through, and blamed himself for? You're telling me that none of them mean as much to him as the death of Spock? And you want me to read this as. what. Normal friend things?? When he calls Spock the more noble half of his soul?? And says that Spock's katra is his responsibility, just as much as if it were his own???

And what if I screamed??!???

[rika-mortis]

Bonus:

[blanc-ci]

To Kirk’s (welcome) surprise, Spock is sometimes even more handsy than he is

[selfish-solace]

I am not crazy! I know he swapped those streams. I knew it was half life vr ai. The rise of the science team. As if I could ever make such a mistake. Never. Never! I just – I just couldn’t prove it. He covered his tracks, he got that idiot at the rtvs Team to lie for him. You think this is something? You think this is bad? This? This bait and switch? He’s done worse. That Breaking Bad Vr But The AI is self aware! Are you telling me that a man just happens to be walter white? No! He orchestrated it! Wayne! He tricked the science teamers! And I watched him! And I shouldn’t have. I took him into my own browser! What was I thinking? He’ll never be gordon again. He’ll never free man! Ever since he was 27, always the same! Couldn’t keep his hands out of the gmod! But not our Wayne! Couldn’t be precious Wayne! tricking us blind! And HE gets to be a streamer? What a sick joke! I should’ve stopped him when I had the chance! …And you, you have to stop him!

[hinamie]

u should think of tiny megu. To keep the stress at bay. You should draw him actually. Ooooo you wanna draw tiny megu getting the love he deserves so bad /j

he's with his 2 best friends

[yeyinde]

waking up after a night out drinking in a foreign country only to realise that the bed you're in is not your own. no one is beside you. you try to leave but the doors are all locked. the windows won't open. you're trapped. a pretty bird in a cage.

nothing is in the dressers except large, old shirts. the clothes you were wearing when you woke up disappear after you take a shower. no panties. no bra. food shows up on schedule. you never see who leaves it.

they don't answer when you scream. when you bang your fists against the door until they're bloodied. passing out on the floor when the drugs finally kick in. but the mess you make in the daytime is cleaned up. your hands bandaged. disapproval heavy in the air along with the stale scent of tobacco. smoke.

when you're good, you get things. books. magazines. treats. your favourite food. a laptop arrives when you sob yourself to sleep after screaming yourself hoarse about loneliness, and how this isn't right. this isn't okay. it's restricted, of course. you log into Facebook but the moment you try and ask for help, the internet is turned off. you're being watched. monitored closely.

you learn your lesson slowly, giving nothing away to your family and pretending you're enjoying your holiday. being good. quiet.

instead of treats, gifts, recipe books arrive—some pages dogeared. you start making the food. leaving a plate in the fridge. it's gone the next morning. more recipes appear. you make them, too. an expensive chain comes next. a pretty gold necklace for a pretty bird in a golden cage.

(each meal gets you a strange rash on your cheek, jaw the next morning. beard burn, you think, and try not to shudder.)

lingerie comes after. silk, lace. all of it fits perfectly. you try to avoid it. the idea, the implication, is a knife between your ribs, but the next morning, your laptop is missing. the books are gone. food, too. your clothes disappear until all that remains is the lingerie set and a little black box. one you pointedly ignore. throw out with the trash. chew on gum to make the ache in your belly go away until that vanishes too.

your world is narrowed down to hunger. loneliness. isolation—

(in the corner of the rooms, a red light glints in the dark. lonely, but not alone.)

it persists until you relent. give in. another lesson you learn. you wear the set to bed, and try to think nothing of it—

you wake up to something heavy around you. a warm, thick body pressed against your bare spine. coarse chair tickling the skin between your shoulder blades. a burly arm under your neck, elbow bent to wrap a rough hand around your neck. the other slung over your hip, shoved between your thighs. something hard presses into your ass. a bruising pressure. it aches. you stifle a gasp, but with his long, thick fingers wrapped tight around your throat, he feels it.

everything goes still. quiet. just the faint rustle of sheets. the scratch of coarse hair on silk. a breath. you tremble. fight back another gasp when lips press into your crown with a sharp inhale. scenting you. nuzzling into your scalp. warm breath that smalls of malt and honey. woodsy. tobacco.

your eyes adjust slowly to the dark, and fall on a black box left on top of your end table. velvet, you know. you've felt the softness between your fingers when you threw it in the trash with a sob. no escaping it, after all.

the hand between your thighs twitches. when he speaks, it shudders through your spine, makes your hair stand on end. it's a growling purr. the low roar of an old engine. more grit than comfort in the midnight dark.

"jus' close your eyes, love," he rasps, pushing his thick body tighter against you. coiling around you like a big, hungry bear. "an' go back to sleep for me."

and you do.

[charcoaldustonmyfingers]

Tech Support: Part 1

[1-2-3]

Based on my childhood, wherein my dad would shout for my older brother for help double clicking an icon on his desktop only to get each one of us trailing in to help. Of course, he didn’t need the help of just anyone, no; he needed the kid who did computers for his conundrum.

[egophiliac]

NEW BIRTHDAY THEME IS OUT!!!!!!!!!!!

BIRTHDAY SLUMBER PARTY, HERE WE COME

I think the theme is more loungewear than straight-up pajamas, but hey, I'm not complaining! (and -- look, we still have the groovies, I'm not giving up hope for animal kigurumi until I gotta)