#thats okay i wanted her to

[tubbytarchia]

AND THE UNDERDOG YURI TAKES THE WIN WOOOOO ok but that was fun lol, all the ships are super neat and I really didn't expect GemPearl to win but good job guys!?

[kittysauce]

i literally hate her ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️

[dungeonmechoui]

Unprofessional yuri save me.. save me unprofessional yuri.. (image description in alt text)

[cloudysfluffs]

beetlejuice's ex-wife is the only character i cared about in the new movie <3

(proship, nsfw and/or kink blogs dni!!!)

[grizarts]

She lives rent free in a science lab within my brain

[chococrystal]

Made for @ammo0648 's DTIYS !! Congrats !!

[shesmore-shoebill]

chronically offline woman has Harambe explained to her for the first time. in 2024. colorized.

(i love you can see her the genuine shock and horror in her response initially and then she immediately starts slipping into bits..... "how old is that kid now? -im gonna fucking find him.")

[fairsweetlonging]

the thing that sets apart hua cheng from most other devotee/worshipper-type relationships in other media is that hua cheng would actually throw himself on his knees and crawl across the floor if xie lian wanted to, he would demean himself without shame because shame comes from the perception that you have done something wrong or foolish in another's eyes, and hua cheng would never see his god's will as either, nor care for anyone's else's opinion

[morangoowada]

Miku Northeast Brazil version 🇧🇷🌵

[fungstr]

its not safe to go alone, take this

felt whimsical for a moment (id like to throw her by a cliff and watch her be taken by the breeze because shes as tiny and light as a plume, until she gets blown away to the ocean and drowns)

[frostydraconis]

A bit of a for funsies mess around pic because i was staring at my previous work for Far too long. Needed a change of pace to not lose my mind

So i drew @demilypyro!

[sapphickitii]

do yall ever think abt thalassa giving trucy her bracelet. because i think abt thalassa giving trucy her bracelet

[dailyrmdoodle]

They friends!!! I love Holly so much she's so niceeeee Also why are you so smalllll

[zephyrartz-owo]

ah yes... the mimis

[sunwyrms]

May we have more Loopdile please?

(typically i dont do requests, but i suppose i can humor you since you were so polite~)

They do this every morning. Nobody has any idea why. Bonnie is sick of it.

[id in alt]

[katebishopsbaefy]

Soup and Sniffles

pairing: natasha romanoff x reader (can be read as platonic or romantic)

summary: you're sick and dont want natasha to find out. she finds out, fluff esues.

word count: 961

notes: hey everyone this is the first fic im posting pls no hate 😄😘

You practically fall through your open window onto the floor of your bedroom, knees almost buckling underneath you. You’re able to catch yourself in just enough time to stop your face from slamming into the ground. The impact from your sort of fall is still loud, though, and you pray Natasha couldn’t hear it.

You realized you were sick two days ago, but only today had you really started to feel the full effects of your illness. School was a nightmare with a stuffy nose and constant headache, and with no time in between classes and patrol, you were absolutely miserable. But, not wanting to worry Natasha or risk being labeled as “useless”, you kept it to yourself and stuck it out. One fight in particular left you stumbling and sneezing, the guy’s ice powers making you feel even more sick. You’d managed to make your way to your shared apartment with Natasha. You couldn’t wait to take a much needed nap.

A knock on the door makes you jump up from your spot on the floor, which you happened to be very comfortable in. Natasha’s voice is muffled by the door.

“Y/N? What the hell was that?” she asks. Shit.

You panic. Clear your throat as quietly as you can, hoping to sound much less congested than you are. “Nothing! I’m ok, I swear.”

“I’m coming in,” she states, and she’s next to you before you can even begin to protest. She notices the carpet moved out of place under your feet and smirks. “Did you fall through the window?” 

“Maybe,” you reply. She quirks an eyebrow at you. “Rough ni-” you start, but a cough racks through your body and you’re forced to double over. You recover as quickly as possible, shooting back up with a sniffle and a smile. “Rough night,” you finish. You break eye contact with her once you see the concern laced in her green eyes. 

“I can tell. Did you get hit?” she asks, looking up and down your body looking for an injury that could be the source of your cough. She takes your face into her hands and studies the cuts littering it until your own hands push hers away.

“No, I’m fine. Well, I did get hit, but I’m fine. No problem.” You smile at her. It doesn’t reach your eyes.

The back of Natasha’s hand finds your forehead before you can react. Your mind tells you to pull away, but your body leans into the contact in search of comfort. She frowns as you sniff again. “You’re sick.”

“No I’m not,” you argue, finally finding the strength to pull her hand away from you. It drops to her side and her eyes search yours.

“Yes, you are. How long have you been sick for?”

“I haven’t been sick because I’m not sick.”

“Then why do you sound so gross?”

“I’m not gross.”

“You’re pretty gross.”

“I’m not sick, Nat! Jesus,” you swipe your hand under your nose and sniffle miserably. Her fingers find your face once more and she turns your chin to look at her, thumb swiping away a tear you didn’t know had fallen. Natasha looks at you, really looks at you. You’re shivering under her touch, just slightly, but enough for her to notice. Your eyes are sunken and red, as well as the tip of your nose and your cheeks. She looks back into your eyes.

“What’s wrong?” she asks softly, barely above a whisper. 

Tears fill your eyes and you let them. “I don’t feel good,” you tell her, and the wall breaks. She pulls you into her and kisses the top of your head. You're very aware of the grossness you're getting on her shirt, but she doesn’t care. 

“I got you,” she whispers over and over into your hair, rubbing circles on your back as you sob. Eventually your legs simply give out, but she’s there to hold you up. Drags you over to your bed and pulls away, forcing you to look at her. She hands you a tissue to blow your nose into.

“Gross,” she comments. You giggle tearily and she smiles at you. “I’ll make you soup if you wanna go shower.”

“Mkay. C’n you do tha’ thing where you put m’ clothes in the dryer so they’re all warm?” you look up at her with the best puppy eyes you can muster. This time she giggles at you.

“I guess so. Try not to take twelve hours in the shower, I want hot water too.”

You know she really wouldn’t care if you took forever, as long as it made you feel better.

You jump in the shower, and when you’re out (45 minutes later), there’s fresh clothes sitting on the toilet for you, plus a fluffy towel. You throw on the clothes and ring out your hair, walking towards the kitchen to the smell of soup. 

Natasha watches you and shoots you a small smile. “Better?” she asks.

“Yeah. Less gross,” you reply honestly. Your nose is a lot less congested and your shivering stopped for the most part. You plop yourself down in your spot on the couch and Liho, Nat’s cat, jumps up with you. You pull her into your arms and lay down on a pillow given to you by some distant relative, paying little attention to the sitcom running on the tv.

Nat turns to bring you a bowl of soup, but sees you passed out on the couch, snoring quietly. She walks over and grabs your favorite blanket from over the top of the couch, draping it over you and kissing your forehead. Notices you’re a lot less warm than before, smiles down at you. The soup could wait for later.