#these two💗💗💗💗

[octorosi]

Father’s Day thingy :3

———————-

Barnacles: “Professor? Are you home?”

Natquick, under a pile of books: “Yes yes! I’m right here,”

Barnacles: “Oh- what are you- never mind- I have a gift for you-“

Natquick: “A gift? Dear that’s awfully sweet of You! But why? It’s not my birthday is it-?”

Barnacles: “No professor, it’s Father’s Day-“

Natquick: “Oh! I knew something was happening today-“

Barnacles, awkwardly handing him the gift bag: “Happy Father’s Day, professor Natquick..!”

Natquick: “AWWWWWWW!”

Barnacles: “:333 open it!”

Natquick: “Okay okay!!!”

*opening his gift, which is a custom jacket, a “Worlds best dad” mug, and a card*

Natquick: “Aww! Barnacles I love them!! Did you make the jacket yourself?”

Barnacles: “Well I bought the base and Dashi helped me customise it,”

Natquick: “Let’s see the card!”

*Silence while he reads*

*Natquick, in happy tears*

Barnacles: “professor-? Are you oka-“ *gets snatched into a hug”

Natquick; “THANKYOUSOMUCHILOVEYOUSOMUCHHH”

Barnacles: “Aww your welcome! Happy Father’s Day Natquick :333”

Natquick: “Happy Father’s Day, barnacles :3”

—————————————

Meanwhile:

Kwazii: “Dashi you got that right?”

Dashi: “heheh yez >:3”

Paani: “Can’t we just leave them alone? They are having a moment!”

Kwazii: “I mean we could…But what’s the fun in that!”

Dashi: “:33”

[chloesimaginationthings]

Vanny mixed up FNAF Help wanted with Digital circus,,

[cicimellie]

i cannot keep this jailed in my head any longer okay. I firmly believe the hollow knight has never and will never use a contraction in their life and what I mean by that:

like Ghost? absolutely. despite their very stoic nature they're out here spiting their 'purpose' as a empty vessel by speaking (however they might) in the most slurred, disjointed, vulgar way they can manage and they take great delight in it.

But I just KNOW in my heart of hearts that Hollow is the most pretentious, archaic guy out there. once you get past all the trauma and horror and pain and their siblings finally pull a coherent sentence out of them--like Ghost and Hornet are expecting their questions of "how do you feel what do you want" answered with, like, "I'm sort of fine I just want to rest" NO. ABSOLUTELY NOT.

Hollow is going to hit them with thee thou and thy, okay. They were "raised" (loose!! Loose term, pale king my reluctant beloved) by an ancient wyrm-turned-king, okay. "Are you okay" is going to get the answer of "thy fears art wasted, siblings mine, on a vessel so impure and broken as I."

OKAY 😭 okay? I just need anyone to feel me. Like do you feel me? Hollow deserves to be a little pretentious. I want to read it so bad

[gfguren]

pro hero!bakugou x reader | fluff, a little bit domestic, a little bit intimate, a little bit suggestive? (not really) | cw: cursing, a very modest bath scene

-bakugou only knows how to give, you wish he'd let you do the same for him-

Thinking about the newly domestic give and take between you and Katsuki. It doesn't come naturally to him. He's hell bent on doing everything himself, at first. That's the way he's always lived after all—hyper self-sufficient, independent to a fault, and so goddamn stubborn about it all.

It makes you feel almost useless, his insistence on doing everything, not only for himself but for you as well. Honestly, you should have expected it; he was like that well before moving in together. Taking all the responsibilities on himself, wrangling you out of the way when you so much as try to help, because he "feels like it", or he's "better at it", or "just move, f'r I make ya".

But you were a guest in his house, then—so you let him have his way, bullheaded as it was. Now that you share a house—a home—you want nothing more than to take care of it, of him.

Though moving mountains would be easier than convincing him to accept it.

You try brute force, first. And it goes as well as you might expect, like throwing pebbles at a brick wall. Putting yourself between him and the dishes is just as futile; he cooked dinner, you should be the one to do this. It's only fair. Still, he takes it upon himself to pick you up and physically remove you from 'his' spot by the sink, ugly yellow gloves dripping dishwater all the way to the counter.

The floor is completely soaked by the time he plops you down on the countertop, as are your jeans, your flailing arms and exasperated "Katsuki!" having done little to deter him. Your mouth opens in protest but his hands, firm at your sides and eyes, red, and stern and definite leave no room for discussion.

So you try to 'talk about it', second. When his mood has cooled and he's feeling a little sweet. He usually is, when hero work has worn him down, chipped away at his fire until there's nothing left but his worn down bones and the aching desire to be enveloped in you—his head on your chest, your fingers in his hair.

He's nothing but mush in your arms by the time you bring it up, nearly two hundred pounds of limp muscle, eyes half lidded, and slow, warm breath. You think he doesn't hear you at first, more likely he pretends not to; but then you hear a half-hearted, "hmph". And you sigh.

"I'm serious, Kats." you rake your fingers across his scalp absently and he groans in appreciation, furling into you more. "You can't do everything, just look at you."

He peers up at you with one eye, an almost glare, more playful than anything; too tired for anything more. He huffs gently, warm breath across your chest when you don't back down. "We'll talk about it later."

'Later'; meaning never. Still, you don't press him. Not when he's so tired, not when this small moment of peace is all he allows you to offer him.

Ever predictable; there isn't a later, and he finds a way to avoid the conversation, in one way or another. Over and over and over again. You're at the end of your rope just trying to get him to listen.

So you try a last ditch effort at patience, at compromise (usually a losing battle, with him); working him over, little by little.

And it works, mostly.

You find that, most times, you can slip past him while he's cooking to steal the dirty mixing bowls and discarded pans; wash them while he's preoccupied trying not to burn the chicken or fretting over cutting the vegetables 'just right'. That him doing the cooking is non-negotiable, but he'll let you help as long as you stop trying to kiss him while he's "tryin' to make y'r dinner over here, god damnit".

(Don't let him fool you, he likes it).

That it takes you far too long to realize how much he craves being asked for 'help', instead of your usual insistence on helping him. That when he feels appreciated and useful, he's almost eager to share the housework with you, looking almost boyish standing there, hands stuffed in his pockets, the tepid scowl twisting his pretty face betrayed by the blush creeping up the back of his neck when you hum a lilted, "Thank you, Katsuki".

Your strategy's not foolproof, of course; he's still quick to steal whatever you're working on once he's finished his, itching to make himself busy once more.

But it's progress.

Still, no matter how much you try, or how long you pester him, he puts his foot down at taking care of him while he's sick, while he's training or on patrol. Anything that could end with you hurt, or put you in harms way is a hard 'no'—always, always, always.

That's not to say he doesn't let you take care of him ever. Though it was more hassle than it should have been, getting him to just sit comfortable instead of disappearing into the bath for hours, or taking his frustrations out on his poor, battered training equipment.

These days, when he's had an especially tiring evening, he'll sink down into the sofa without you having to say a thing, let you press your fingers into his shoulders and down his spine until the knots unwind. That occasionally he'll let you take him by the hand even, coax him gently into warm water and vanilla scented bubble bath.

That he becomes particularly docile when you're massaging your flowery conditioner into his wily blonde hair. The scent of you—over his waist, around his shoulders, in his hair—it's almost intoxicating, and he wraps his arms around you, like he's desperate for more, burying his face in your chest; sighs like he's at ease for the first time in his life.

It isn't easy, teaching Katsuki to take—but when he lays down with you at night, his eyes are a little brighter, hands hold you a little tighter, a little longer than when all he knew was how to give, give, give. And when his lips find yours, and you can feel his smile against them, you figure all the trouble is worth it.

And when he rolls the both of you over til you're pinned beneath heavy thighs, impish grin on his lips and calloused fingers beneath your shirt, trouble and promise brewing behind his newly fired eyes, well that's just a bonus.

[blackkatdraws]

Idiot stuck in glue trap

OH NO @indigo-art GOT STUCK TOO NOOOO

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

❤️

[cosmicdreamgrl]

maknae line x bst performances pt.1 for @jkvjimin

[mrsoharaa]

𝑩𝒊𝒓𝒕𝒉𝒅𝒂𝒚 𝑮𝒊𝒓𝒍 🎀🍰

characters; SatoSugu (Gojo Satoru + Geto Suguru) x Reader

cw; none! pure FLUFF! the two dummies being completely lovesick and mopey over their pretty spoiled angel! birthday trope, completely SELF INDULGENT (since it's my bday todayyy <3)

Your lumbering eyes blink heavily to the flaunting streaks of the peeking sun seeping through your bedroom shades. A heavy distinctive weight of multiple objects weighs all over and around your sleeping form, a low grumble tittering off from your supple lips.

Gradually stirring awake from your deep slumber, you glance down at your chest to a note with a beautifully fully blossomed peony taped to the feeble paper. Blinking, you sit upright and take the note into your hands, carefully holding the gorgeous, flourishing flower and reading over the neatly familiar font written in perfect alignment.

Good morning and happy birthday beautiful :)

Sorry that me and Satoru are not there to hold you in our arms and spoil you with endless kisses and affections, but we had to do some...shopping for your surprise for tonight. (I really didn't want to spoil anything about it but I guess I kind of did...)

As you can tell, Satoru had bombarded you with boundless hoards of gifts on you. He was dead set on drowning you in a heap of stuffed animals, jewelry and your favorite type of throw blankets. He's utterly ridiculous, but he loves you incessantly so I suppose that makes up for it haha.

A tender smile seeps onto your cheeks, glancing up and around the bundled stock of adorable stuffed animals, fluffy throw blankets and fancy expensive boxes that you'd presumed to be the priceless jewelry Satoru had hauled for you. Your heart flutters warmly, frantically at the adoring thought.

A bit much don't you think, Toru?

"Oh 'Toru..." you giggle softly under your breath, your softened eyes scrolling back onto the heart felt letter in your free hand.

We should be back home in a few hours or so, so please enjoy your comfortable day lounging about my love. We'll bring home some snacks on our way back.

Oh, and my gift for you (minus the flower of course, because I think I remembered you saying that Peonies were your favorite some time ago) is in in the living room. I hope you like it angel :)

Again, happy birthday princess.

Much love from your goofballs - Suguru + Satoru.

Your heart continues to patter wildly against your chest, smiling ever so giddily to yourself as you glimpse over the mount of gifts hoarding over you. Gently placing the adoring letter on your nightstand, you gently caress the soften petals of the elegant flower, gingerly bringing it to your lips and tending a ghost like kiss to the sweet scented flora. Inhaling the candid natural scent of it's aroma.

"Oh my silly thoughtful boys" you murmur lightly, feeling your eyes swell with happy tears, your heart fluttering happily to the thought of the two idiots you grew to know and love over the years, spoiling you.

Feeling the enthralling excitement swarm in the depths of your stomach, you carefully rise from your gift-cluttered bed and stand onto your toes. Stretching out your limbs, you felt the soft silk of your blush pink night gown grace over the upper plain of your exposed thighs. A tingling, lulling sensation peppering all over your awakening skin.

Still holding onto the flower in your hand, you gleefully make your way into the living room. Stopping immediately at the frame of your bedroom door as your pupils dilate with vast enchantment and wonder.

With your ceiling littered with heart shaped balloons of soft pink, rose gold and white, the dining room table neatly decorated with two tall standing candles, silverware and dishes adroitly placed and pink rose petals lightly scattered along the sleek table cloth and your dishes - you couldn't help the overwhelming warmth resonating deep within your heavy chest.

Those thick, kindred tears welling back at the corners of your blurry irises.

"Suguru..." you hardly whispered out with a soft gasp, blown out watery irises carefully skimming along the beautifully decorated room from their courteous hard work.

Light footing of your delicate steps drew you close to the breath taking scenery displayed out before you. Daintily, you brush the pad of your fingers along the silken table cloth and rose petals that swarmed over your dining room table. Thoroughly, admiring every detail and care they took to prep this, just for you.

Your eyes spot another note in the middle of the table, folded in half and nestled against one of the standing candles.

You carefully take it and open the smaller note.

I hope everything is to your liking angel, I wanted to make everything as perfect as I could for you :) I hope it's not too much.

(Satoru says he helped pitched in, doesn't want to seem like he didn't put in any effort or whatever haha)

Happy birthday sweet girl, dress up nice tonight, we're cooking and tending to you thoroughly tonight. Tonight will be all about you sweetheart.

- Suguru G.

Oh, so he wants you to collapse from a cardiac arrest from all the cuteness and what not?

Grasping onto the small, gracious note and hugging it close to your chest (where your heart rests), you couldn't help the familiar overwhelming feeling of sheer bliss and joyous enlightenment embellish all over your body. Filling your heart and soul with boundless love and adoration.

Tears swiftly cascading down the soften plush of your blossoming cheeks. Breaths catching tightly at the perch of your lungs, heart still restlessly plummeting to the endearing thought of your boyfriends going out of their way to woo you with such enchanting gifts and basking wonderment.

You couldn't help the over joyous feeling coursing through you, titillating excitement pouring through your veins as you rush to your bathroom to get ready for the enticing night!

[kenconffetti]

He wasn't mentally prepared 😭🙏🙏 (x)

[kaiipivara]

Titan!DNF spoilers 🫣💚💙

[claret-ash]

A Lost King and Prince of of his Flight, meeting again in the Dragon Isles. 👑💗🐉

[honeyandthunderstorms]

rec five fics with titles you particularly enjoy!

I've been tagged 3 times now so I feel it is only right to do this challenge lmao anywayssss tagged by these lovelies: @love-mariiii @formulaocean @starrwrrld 💗

where you go, I go by @ladysomething — the famous skyfall edit of charles’ sunset lap x max’s storm lap!!! need I say more? iconic of her to use this lyric as the fic title. also this might be a wip, but its my all time fav lestappen fic. I will suggest this fic to everyone bc its truly amazing.

right where you belong by @amarynas — right where you belong… in max’s arms, Charles. no, but seriously so cute and fluffy with a bunch of angst. Max and Charles deserve to be happy and they get that in this fic and the companion fic 👀

grapefruit mignonette by @slapshots on ao3 (idk if they have tumblr) — named after the food Max makes per suggestion by Charles. he later lists it in his menu “love notes” under “first sight” and my heart squeezed in my chest. also deliously filthy. need i say more? one of the first fics I read in this fandom and I still reread constantly when I want to get my dose of chef max hehe

frechheit by @additiva — I actually love fic titles in other languages and this word literally means cheekiness which Charles is the cheekiest mf alive in this fic. one of my fav fics and I highly suggest it bc AH slightly older max? they're both hissy bitches and I love them.

long live (the walls we crashed through) by @fabbyf1 — taylor swift lyric and one thing you might not know about me is that I fuck heavily with my girl tay tay. also this song is so f1 coded so there’s that. anyways, childhood friends to lovers anyone??? love the rewriting of the narrative. God knew they’d be too strong as friends and made them rivals instead. but this fic? this fic tells the story of them growing up as friends beautifully and how they fall in love.

my bookmarks page wouldn't work on ao3 so I had to go searching lmao anywaysssss no-pressure tags: @beensinning @sediciii @zettychez @qdverti 🫶🏼

[laurapetrie]

My heart is a locket and your face is in it.

Edna St. Vincent Millay, July 1911

[everyday-is-uncle-day]

I’m. Not. Over.This. Jamie can VERY easily pick up his mother and carry her.

And yet disappears when she hugs him❣️

[multicolour-ink]

Can't get over the way she scrambles up to get to her boys 🥲💗

And then she gives them kisses and hugs

💗💗💗

[blackkatdraws]

Grey (The Narrator) and Stanley