#*we cheer in unison*

[mejjy]

whichever madman pointed out that the new rift on bill's body in the theraprism is meant to parallel ford's cracked glasses after he emerges out of the portal,,,, MY SOUL IS YOURS TO TAKE ANYDAY MY GOSH

--------------------------------------------------

bonus !!

ford about bill:

bill about ford:

[void-creechur]

STARTOOLS

[kettlemuffin]

cake on his head

[nottoonedin]

EVIL. SICK AND TWISTED.

[parkitaco]

ok wip wednesday is over in four minutes but i just wrote this and i fear it fucks severely

[rainey-day-whispers]

Thinking about how the dullet is gonna be immortalised in the tit recording <3 <3

[gds-daisy]

writing a professor!gd x fem!reader fic who’s excited?

[mytortoisegotstuckinatupperware]

Arthur Hastings in a military uniform>>>>>

[i-ate-all-of-my-toes]

This

is that animal lacrosse or whatever its called

[maritime-carnival]

“then I’d better start moving too” OMFGG GUYS IM ABOUT TO BE THE MOST INSUFFERABLE PERSON YOU’VE EVER KNOWN—

[meioof]

ignore the horrendous quality but here are some sketch book doodles of yoko and aachin

[higuchosolord]

Lately I've been having this wonderful thought of a higuchoso Frankenstein au and I feel like a REAL visionary ..heh.. i'm so cool..

[artvann]

rough gravelyn sketch

[feralnt]

The number 2 symbolizing harmony... 4 sounds like death and considered unlucky.... 5 being an unlucky number because it sounds like crying and weeping..... yea whatever man

[pumpkinrootbeer]

smth abt the way toms actor delivers his lines makes every flirt sound so sleezy like tom tommy babygirl I'm so sorry but i would pepper spray you. stop staring at harry like that from across the room and stop saying everything like it's a pick-up line in a 1970s bar with cigarette smoke on the ceiling. b'elanna was right when she called him a pig im sorry i love him he sucks

[reallytiredperson]

OH MY GOD HAHAH we IGNORED HIM!!!

Promethean

Fuckboy!Soap x shy!reader x Ghost p.3

Soap likes to think of himself as someone who’s not just a fuckboy.

But it’s hard to think that when, right now, he’s literally checking his phone more often than he did when nana was touch-and-go in the hospital, with his train line experiencing heavy delays from inclement weather.

He tilts the screen to his face for the thirtieth time in the last two minutes. Nothing.

Well, not nothing. There’s never nothing. Social media alerts. Hearts in games refilled. Reminders of all the shit he’s left in his cart across various shopping apps.

The emails. My god, the emails…

But it may as well be empty, seeing as the one thing he wants to see isn’t there.

The fuck was your problem, lately? Not responding to his texts when he used to see the read checkmark within thirty seconds alongside a typing bubble. Yeah maybe he’s not your boyfriend, and he doesn’t act all lovey dovey the way you want him to when he fucks you, and he doesn’t even look at you when he passes you on campus, and he typically ignores it when you say hey— that kinda hurts, and….

Whatever. He’s not the one under examination here. You’re being the problem right now.

He should move down the contact list. He has options.

But first he needs to figure out what the fuck is going on with you. It’s gonna drive him crazy. He has a beautiful mind, that way. Should’ve been a detective.

His first clue comes with your next class together, right at the start of the week. It’s a little colder. The heat in this wing of the building has been kinda spotty at best. He himself is wearing pants longer than basketball shorts, which is cause to alert the media.

You’re wearing something big and faded and black. It swallows you. It’s familiar. There’s some cracked, plastic design on the front that used to be a logo, probably. But maybe it’s familiar because you’ve worn it before— it’s not like he’s really paid much attention to what you’ve worn in the past, not unless it was short or low cut.

Simon’s been around the house even less than usual. And when he is home, the door to his room is closed. Weird, considering he’s always been one of those door-open freaks. Whatever, maybe he’s taken up jacking off more lately. God knows he’s never let Johnny set him up with someone.

You’ve been different. Smiley. Not that Soap would know or anything. But your errant behavior warrants a closer look. Tapping away at your phone under the table. Rushing out of class like you have somewhere to be. Almost skipping.

Maybe he’d gotten a little too lax with baiting you. Needed to recast the enchantment. Make you remember what you were clinging to hope for. Even the most reliable trap will fail if it’s not baited.

“Gonna be a rager this wknd at the house, bonnie. Wanna see u there <3”

He was flush with confidence. Even if you didn’t respond now— he’d see you there. Where else would you be on a Saturday night? You’re not the dating type.

Someone call the Audubon Society about this man, because when it comes to predicting the migratory patterns of birds, he’s always right. You’re there before the party is even in full swing. You’re wearing that black sweatshirt again— not the sexiest choice, but he can’t blame you for getting a little sloppy when he hasn’t been around to keep your back straight.

He puts on his best, wolfish grin and leans against the bannister of the staircase so that you won’t be able to help but—

Brush right past him. Up the stairs.

Straight to his room, then? Well, it had been a while since he’d given it to you, huh? Poor thing— suffering from withdrawals. Maybe that’ll teach you not to ignore him when he’s trying to magnanimously grace you with a dick appointment.

He follows, hot on your tail, just in time to feel the tickle of a breeze from the quick closing of a door.

And the door to his room stares back at him.

Wide open.