#with security for all

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF nightmare foxy is a huge fan of Roxanne Wolf,,

[fanaticalthings]

Just a cute lil thought:

Since Bruce's kids all love to play around and hide in his cape as Robins, I wonder if he makes them blankets out of the same materials as his cape so they can have a piece of security when Bruce isn't there?

I remember in Dick and Jason's older comics (correct me if I'm wrong), they used to stay up late waiting for Bruce when he'd go out as Batman alone, so I'm gonna take this as confirmation that all his kids have done this at some point.

So now I'm totally gonna hc that in order to encourage his kids to not stay up late for him or as a way to help them feel more safe and secure when he's not there, he makes them all blanket replicas of his cape for them to snuggle with :')

And also just imagine his kids all grown up, and they STILL have the blankets with them, regardless of if they've moved out.

[popping-greenbean]

ive connected it

[anna-scribbles]

emma dupain cheng on the brain😽🎀

more:

[mooneggtarts]

Mike will tellthe kid once he's a little older, or once Mike has the mental capacity to explain it

[arolegos]

who let this freak get a job

[etakeh]

You know, every so often I think I should update my pirated copy of CS2.

Then I see things like this, and remember that I don't need it more than I need it, you know?

Dated 3/22/23

[eggcromancer]

Okay hear me out, a lot of Y/N x DCA fics has Y/N replacing Vanessa as the night guard; But what *if* I make them work besties instead? 👀

full credits to @way2gosuperrstarr for the technician y/n & night guard vanny brainworms! (I'll be charging you rent later!! 💥💥💥 //affectionate)

[cacaocheri]

not one, but TWO moon kisses drawn by tumblr user cacaocheri????

[chloesimaginationthings]

Everyone loves FNAF music man.. even Michael

[softcenteregg]

//home// ❤️💛

[lazydreamartryn]

Morning!~

Im sick at the moment, so I did my best and this is all that you are getting right now. It looked better in my head...

[existentialcrisis-9-5]

Eclipse finally has their licence!

Sorry it took a while, they had to get a few repairs first :P

Sun and Moon's licence :)

The full lanyard

[pixlokita]

Oop I forgot I can mix my hyperfixations :v also wondered how a team Glamrock would look ^^

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[scarabeeart]

*cookies your animatronics*