#these.... keep getting longer LMAo

[thimblings]

viago "fashion police" de riva

[choccy-milky]

the place me and my roommate were supposed to move into today was so disgusting and uninhabitable we just took our stuff and left and now we're gonna be staying at airbnbs and hotels until further notice/until we can find a new place hopefully quickly...........im in my homeless drifter era y'all!!!😍😍so if im not as active then thats why LMFAO

1 like = 1 prayer

[muzzlemouths]

Hiiiiii @vectorisheree hi hiii I was your Secret Skeleton!

I fell in love with the designs of your 3LAF AU and knew right away that I wanted to try my hand at drawing them. It was TONS of fun.

Hope you're having a happy Halloween! :D

[half-bakedboy]

Number 2 from the 50 cliché tropes and prompts

Your shirt/jumper was in the laundry pile and I couldn't help but steal it

Buck never understood why he had lost so many sweatshirts and button-downs to past girlfriends. Nine times out of ten, they didn't even remotely fit their figure and they were only worn in the comfort of Buck's home anyways. 

Then he started staying over Tommy's house more and more. He'd always come prepared–an overnight bag filled with an extra LAFD shirt, a pair of jeans, a pair of chinos, and two shirts, one with a collar and one without–just in case he needed to rush out in the morning. 

This morning, he isn’t quite as prepared as he wishes he had been. Tommy’s in the shower after sleepily kissing Buck good morning and Buck promised he’d run Hercules–Tommy’s ten-year-old retired racing greyhound–outside before Tommy dropped Buck off at work. Thunder crashes outside and rain pounds on the roof, and Buck didn’t even think to bring a jacket. 

He looks around the bedroom closet, careful not to invade the private space too much, but he doesn’t see anything that might help. He knows there’s an umbrella waiting beside the door, but he’s already shivering from the chill sneaking in through the closed windows and Buck knows he’ll need something to protect his skin. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees a pullover laid neatly on top of the laundry pile. It’s similar to his LAFD one, but a lighter blue that matches Tommy’s on-duty uniform. It won’t keep him dry, but it’ll keep him warm and keep the water off of his skin which is all he has time to care about. He snatches it up and shouts to Tommy that he’s taking the dog outside even though he’s not sure he’s heard. 

Before he gets too far, Buck pauses to get the pullover on. The first thing he notices is how much bigger it is on him. He’s not a small guy by any means, and he’s not much smaller than Tommy��at least he thinks–but there’s so much extra fabric that he has to bundle it up at his waist. He can also tell that the back doesn’t stretch taut against his shoulder blades and that the neckline slouches a little in the front. 

It’s strange to wear something so unfit for him, but at the same time, Buck can’t help but feel giddy. He glances at himself in the mirror and feels small, but not in the way he usually does. It doesn’t make him feel inconsequential or overlooked, but like he’s protected and well-loved. It stirs inside of his stomach until the joy begins to bubble in his chest. 

He notices that Tommy’s name is embroidered just over his heart, and he brings his fingers there to trace over the lettering. It takes everything in him not to whisper his name combined with Tommy’s last and he wonders if this was how his old girlfriends felt when they stole his LAFD shirts that had his name brazen on the back. 

Where he expected to be a bit embarrassed at the claiming nature of it all, he can’t help but feel… powerful. Yeah, there’s something powerful about wearing someone else's name, like he’s screaming to the world that Tommy is off-limits because he’s Buck’s. 

He’s Buck’s. 

He’s too busy thinking about what exactly that means for him to hear the bathroom door open and a freshly showered and shaved Tommy emerge. Another figure beside Buck’s reflection startles him but Tommy’s reassuring hands slide around his waist. It’s strange how normal it feels to have strong, long arms wrapped around him and a broad chest waiting to hold him up as he leans back against it. 

“You’re wet,” Buck says, feeling the dampness on Tommy’s unclothed chest. He’s in sweatpants like he’s ready to lounge around for the day, but the bare skin of his upper body is clearly on display where Buck’s body isn’t hiding it. He wants to pull away just so he can take another peek. 

Tommy doesn’t seem to notice nor care that Buck is analyzing them because he’s too busy doing the same. There’s something in his eyes, though, that sends an eruption of warmth to Buck’s face. Tommy tugs at the extra fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s having the same realization as Buck did, and then he slides one hand up Buck’s chest to trace his name. He whispers each letter like a secret into Buck’s ear, piercing eyes never leaving Buck’s in the mirror. 

Buck shivers, pressing back against Tommy and leaning his head back so that it plops on Tommy’s shoulder comfortably. Tommy finishes his name before dragging a finger to the neckline of the pullover and letting it hang there like a weight that keeps Buck grounded.

“You’re wearing my jumper,” Tommy points out like he doesn’t already know. Buck suddenly feels anxious, like he’s made a horrible mistake, and stands back up straight. He turns to look at Tommy as he speaks. 

“Is that okay? I didn’t bring a jacket so I figured—” 

Tommy kisses him before he can finish, and Buck can only hope it becomes a pattern. 

It’s just as soft as their first kiss and every kiss they’ve shared since then, but it grows in passion second by second. Tommy is gripping the fabric at Buck’s waist like he’s deciding whether he wants to pull it over Buck’s head or leave it on his forever. Buck holds his naked shoulders, palms sliding down the hard planes of his chest then his abs, before sliding underneath the waistband of his sweatpants. 

When a cold nose hits his hand, Buck jumps back, out of breath and startled. Hercules is staring up at them like he’s let them have their fun and he’s done waiting to go outside. Tommy swipes at his face as he chuckles and Buck leans down to pat Herc’s head. 

“I’m sorry, Buddy. Am I stealing all of your dad’s attention?” Buck coos, and he can almost hear Tommy’s good-natured eye roll. 

“Well, if Evan here is done distracting me, I’m sure he’d be more than happy to take you outside, huh?” 

“Oh, if Evan is done distracting you? Like you didn’t just walk out of the shower half-naked and damp and looking like you wanted to drop to your kn–” Buck inhales deeply when Tommy glances down then back up and raises his eyebrows. “Alright, I’m out of here. Be right back,” he promises, pressing one last kiss to Tommy’s reddened lips. 

“Mhm,” Tommy hums, watching him start to walk away. 

“Do you want your pullover back?” Buck asks, because he figures that’s what he would’ve wanted to be asked. 

“As far as I’m concerned, it’s yours now.”

It sounds a lot like I’m yours now, but Buck doesn’t dare ask. Instead, he takes Hercules out, ignoring the storm rumbling above him, and strokes his thumb distractingly against Tommy’s name over his heart. He guesses he’s Tommy’s now, too.

(now on ao3)

[izzydrawsforfun]

I have decided to let go off my sinful ways and devote my art to the Lord

Izzy Draws for Fun is gone. Izzy Draws for CHRIST is in

[dawnthefluffyduck]

Comm for @ferronickel (for @gen-is-gone :> )

[pokemonblack3white3]

Hi I've come to bother you because I remembered a freaking headcanon me and my pokemon freak made about the striaton siblings; how do you feel about them having curly hair. me and the autistic guy decided that yes that guy with the pansage hair and the transgender hips DOES have curly hair he just uses a million god damn pounds of gel in it and I DO think it's the most correct and right headcanon forever. and I just had to inform you to have a glimps into greatness. okay that's all for now. you may do what you want with this information.

I LITERALLY HAD NO CHOICE BUT TO DRAW THIS IMMEDIATLY

[sergle]

yall are about to piss me off by not having any PASSING basic knowledge of the way the u.s. military manipulates its recruits into joining by typing up one of your uninformed, unresearched, unempathetic, individualistic, unbelievably annoying posts about how 100% of the people in the military ended up there because they just Love America So Damn Much! they're extremely mature and informed at time of recruitment, they can totally leave anytime they want, they totally had tons of other avenues in life they could've taken, there was no rush at all to get income as fast as possible, and everyone in the military also totally is part of the combat divisions and personally enjoys being IN the military very much, big believers of violence. everyone in the military is shooting guns all day, that's how that works. they LOVE BLOODSHED. also I love the "amewicans haha" twang to this type of shit because you're actually TOTALLY stealing our Thing, which is turning systemic issues into Individual Issues. Instead of talking about the powers that be, it's so Personal Choice up in here. It's, "well you shouldn't have done it then. I totally wouldn't because I know better." you don't wanna talk about the military industrial complex as a whole, and you don't want to talk about recruiters, you just want to pin the blame on Specific Individual People one-by-one, as if they're responsible for the system that they're being ground up in. someone was in the military? bad person, no matter what. it's easier to believe that, I guess, than to acknowledge that Normal People (with high school educations) are manipulated and incentivized into joining a system that is Bad. at like age 18. but yeah no that 18 year old should have just been smarter lol haha anyway here are some screenshots for no particular reason

side note this reply of someone going "umm just get loans and go into a high paying field it's easy XD" as a direct response to someone trying to explain how most americans joining the military are being funneled in that direction out of a need for money.

and another person who Decided that americans join the military just CLENCHING their teeth thinking of other people, and not thinking completely selfishly about their own selves and their own income/housing/healthcare.

[midnight-mourning]

DCA Promptober Day 12: Carousel

Who wants to be back in the fever dream again? It's you!! Yes you do, yes you do!

Just the one today, which is great as that means I'm back on track finally, hope you enjoy!

Word count: 937

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

"Ow!" You say as you bang your head against the control the lip of the panel opening in the carousel's center, "Stupid, frickin'... thing."

You weren't a mechanic, at least you don't think you are, you don't know how to repair machinery like this. The fact that your employer expected you to just pick up the ability to read wiring diagrams and the likes as if it was nothing felt a bit unfair. If you're being honest. 

Sure, you had a manual. But it was hard to read in this low light. Which, that's another thing, why are you even working in the dark in the first place? Are you even supposed to be working in these conditions? Feels like an OSHA violation. 

Your rubbing a hand over the sore spot on your head when all the hair raises on your skin. A chuckle follows soon thereafter. You scramble for your flashlight, waving it around wildly once you manage to turn it on. No luck. He's not here. 

Another laugh, somewhere up above. Correction then, he's not close. 

You frown, and lean back down to snatch up a screwdriver, starting to work on the operator's controls now, flashlight in one hand while you work. It starts to flicker after a minute and you curse to yourself, turning it off for the meantime. 

Moon tuts at this. 

You scoff, "Don't make it seem like I have a choice here."

"Go to sleep," Is his response.

Moon rarely spoke in full sentences you noticed. And tended to repeat the same phrases over and over. If you hadn't heard him say something direct to you that one time, when was that, anyhow? Feels like ages ago, you'd believe that they were all he could say. 

"Can't. I have work to do. As you can see here.," You don't even know if you could sleep with this on-

With what on? You shake your head, frustrated. You hope you get a break soon, you're getting real sick of your brain not functioning properly due to what you're assuming hoping is sleeplessness.

You finish with tightening the front face of the operator panel back into place. You didn't bother with putting the panel back over the carousel's main access, something told you you'd probably just have to remove it again. Why did this thing even need repaired so often? Had anybody even used it since the last time you did? Have you even left the building once?

You flick the lever and then hit the main button. Least you think it's the right one, it's so damn hard to see-

"Nighty-night~"

You glance up in time to see red eyes hanging just above your head. He swings a clawed hand at you and you jump backwards, managing to dodge but falling down in the process. 

Your hands search for your flashlight as the carousel starts to power on, music starting up as you feel yourself start to rotate with the platform you've landed on. 

"Ah, ah," Moon tsks, causing you to look up to him. 

In his hands is your flashlight, you can only watch in horror as your breaks it in two, chuckling as its remains clatter to the floor. 

His faceplate spins, eyes narrowing, "Light's out."

You brace for the worst, but he only stares as you start to move away from him as the carousel takes off. Disappearing into the dark above after a moment. 

It's then you realized you forgot to flip on the ride's lights. 

You quickly stand up, taking a moment to get your balance.  You look around for any sign of the night-themed bot. You can hear him, somewhere on the other side of the machine. Bells twinkling as he searches around for you. 

You pass by the operator's podium once. You hear Moon start getting closer. 

Shit, you need a distraction. And fast. 

You make another turn. In the dark you find half of your flashlight. You hit it against your palm once or twice just to make sure it's unusable. 

"Naughty, naughty," Moon says, he's much closer now. But hasn't seen you yet. 

You duck down behind one of the benches on the ride, hand covering your mouth to keep from making a noise.

You feel fear crawl down your spine as you see the light of his eyes scan across the horses in front of you. It then disappears quickly. You swallow, closing your eyes as you wait for it to all be over.

There's a loud screech as moon's claws rip into the wooden animal off to your far left. He makes a displeased noise. 

He missed. He doesn't know where you are.

The operator's podium passes by you one more time. Move. 

You wait a few seconds then toss the broken flashlight piece somewhere off into the dark. 

You see a flash of Moon's eyes as he darts over to the sound. 

When you finish your next lap, your quickly roll off the machine and crawl over to the control panel. 

You flip the switch. 

There's a hiss behind you, you turn around in time to watch Moon retreat back into the shadow's away from the carousel. Away from you. 

You sigh, collapsing back against the podium. It's then that you feel something cold on your right shoulder. 

Reaching back, you feel a large hole that's been ripped into the back of your shirt. 

Somewhere off in the distance, you hear Moon speak.

"It's past your bedtime," He snickers. Which is his way of saying 'Until next time' you've realized.

You grumble, rubbing a hand over your eye.

This job sucks.

🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃🎃

Little more light-hearted compared to yesterdays. Which you can find here if you haven't seen it or any of my other promptobers already. Thanks for reading!

[bixels]

What did/do you like about Pharah?

Uh, gameplay-wise, I really love characters in shooters who rely on three-dimensional movement techs. Chaining together hover and jump to stay in the air for as long as possible and keep momentum is so satisfying, and picking enemies off from the sky made me feel like a bird of prey. I was a good Pharah main.

Story-wise, there unfortunately isn't much to canonically go off because Pharah is so underutilized and neglected. Her personality's pretty boilerplate "heroic hero" (she's literally inspired by Captain America).

But it's the crumbs/bits and pieces that I really latched onto. Pharah's a confirmed lesbian; her short story with Baptiste implies she harbors a crush on Mercy (fucking thank you.). She's biracial Egyptian/First Nations. She has major mommy issues, having grown up both admiring and resenting Ana. She's the bridge between Old Overwatch, inspired by the idealized heroes who surrounded her childhood, and New Overwatch. She's one of the only inter-generational characters in the cast; someone whose experiences span the gap, which is why I seriously believe Pharah would make a great main character.

There isn't much to go off of, though; she's a very uncomplicated character (she's a soldier for a private military corporation, lol.). But that just means she's a blank slate character, so I've seen fanfic writers run wild and create some really interesting takes on her. My favorite interpretation of her's a dense, herbo gym-bro type (a lot of her liens are about work outs, exercising, and playing sports) who's easily excitable under her seemingly self-serious, armored visage. We see how she tends to gloat and hype herself up when she's on a streak too, so Pharah definitely has a competitive and boastful side under her more professional and militant performance.

Now Mercy? Mercy is a real complex character.

[obaewankenope]

Every day of the week I've gone the yard to do stable jobs (rip me and my body lol) annnd every horse in the corridor just fuckin LOVES me. I can't walk more than a few steps without getting affectionately nudged, head bumped, nibbled, or having a heavy ass horse head just thump onto my shoulder so I can give em scritchies and kissies at the same time lmao

One of them gets jelly af of two others, one is super polite and gets bullied away by another bc he always tries to use the other neighs stable door for quicker attention from me, another LIVES to try and eat my hair (William NO) and another is scared of bags but loves me enough to be a Brave Brave Boy and let me give him pets and show him the bag isn't scary see! No no, sweetie, it's not gonna hurt you! Oh no, you can't eat it tho, it's bad for you, here, have some scritchies and nibble my fingers instead because you're so polite and just wanna be babied!

Just- horses, y'all

Horses

[yardsards]

im like the lorax when it comes to women's body hair. we should let it grow.

[br1ghtestlight]

personally for 95% of my humanizations i want them to look like real actual ppl and have their personality/character make sense for how they look like. what would their fashion sense be? would they realistically dye their hair or have piercings?? etc

like it tends to be more about vibes than just taking their object and making a humanization of that without taking their character into account. so almost all my humanizations have natural hair colors or look like boring regular everyday guys. cuz that's beautiful to me <3

[brightlydim]

[SUSPECT IDENTIFIED]

God…?

original version under the cut

and some tags @b0nkcreat @gardnwater @localvoidcat @svturn-exe hope y’all like it :)

[tideswept]

the devil is a gentleman [ch5] → ao3

Alternate Universe - Actors, Flirting, Fluff and Smut, Sexual Tension, Older Man/Younger Man, Seduction

"Anakin, may I have a moment?" "Yeah—uh, sure," Anakin said. He knew he should stick around to network with the cast and crew—Padmé seemed nice in a terrifyingly intelligent way—but his car keys were already in his sweaty, nervous grip. "What’s up, Mr. Keno—I mean, Obi-Wan?" "I’d like to discuss some of our scenes together, if you have the time." Obi-Wan checked his watch. "Over dinner, maybe, considering the hour?" Wow. That sounded an awful lot like a date, if you happened to be delusional.

[masochismustango]

Why are libtards so fucking dumb…