#I quite like it

[thebumblecee]

[bl0odsharkk]

what are they chatting about :0

[redhotarsenic]

[allieinthesky]

So how do we feel about my new glasses?

[kitsunespawz]

In the beginning there was light. Light was everywhere, and everything, and it was all of it at once.

And because it was everything and everywhere, it was alone. Light was lonely.

So in an attempt to not be so alone anymore, it condensed itself into hundreds and thousands of suns, scattered across the new nothing as stars. And although there were many of it now, it was still just Light, and it was still lonely.

But in the abcence of Light, Void got born. Void was where light wasn't, and together they were everywhere, and everything, and all of it at once.

Light and Void would proceed to simply exist as everything for centuries, until Light and Void got tired of being everywhere, and being all of it at once, so they decided to create.

First, they decided not to be everything all at once, and simply like that, Time was born.

Now Time was all at once, and it shared their desire to create.

Secondly, Light and Void and Time created an absence of Light and Void and Time, filling it with their wishes and dreams and desires. Light made the core, forming it to a fiery ball of energy, not unlike it had formed itself into all those centuries ago. Void supplied a solid core, made from something it was not. Time gave the construct a nudge, and the first planet was born.

It was a barren, lifeless thing. But thanks to the nudge of Time, and the watchful eyes of Light and Void that were everywhere around it, the planet slowly gained a watery coat, and on the places there was no water, plants began to grow.

Happy with their success, Light and Void and Time began to experiment what else they could create.

This time, Void made the core, and Light coated the surface in fiery lava. When Time gave it a nudge, the hostile surface proceeded to sprout hostile plantlife and inhabitants.

The third planet they created, Time wanted to create the core. And despite the best efforts of Light and Void, all they managed were broken, barren chunks of floating stone, only housing stalky purple fruit and nothing else.

The three planets began to grow their own consciousness, and began to fill the Void, in groups of three, keeping company to Light and Void and Time that were everywhere, and everything, and all of it at once.

They were Overworld, Nether and End, and they were siblings, and they loved their parents Light, Void and Time dearly.

They loved them so much, they gifted Time a Dragon housing in the End, Void a three headed hostile skeleton creature being found in Nether, and Light a Protector hiding in the deep caverns of Overworld.

And with the three creatures, more life came to the three siblings.

Until eventually Light, Void and Time returned the favor, and created something to explore Overworld, Nether and End.

They made it by combinging Light and Void, a balance between both, and Time gave the construct life. And thus, the first players were born.

[robiinurheart33]

Soap being jealous of roach? (TW for slight panic attack(?), intrusive thoughts and gore) - angst no comfort

Everyone knows how hard soap feels. He loves with his whole being; he loves with shoulder pats, confident and casual small talk, tiny gestures that mean the world to the people around him.

What everyone probably does not know is that soap feels hard for every single emotion. Anger is simple enough to see: steadfast disobedience at clear orders, growling at choices he doesn’t agree with, bubbling up in his throat to explode sometimes in the form of a punch.

Empathy is one of the things soap chooses to push down at times - it’s hard to do what he does if he thinks about the people involved too hard. Every opportunity he allows himself to connect emotionally with the people around him; he does.

Jealousy however; isn’t a foreign emotion to him. Contrary to what people may see on surface level, soap is not positive. He can laugh and smile, but he can just as easily shout and sneer. Soap isn’t proud of this, and he despises feeling this way almost every single day. There is a reason he’s so friendly all the time - the constant and very real fear of being replaced. He has to leave his mark, he has to be remembered. When he dies, what will he show for it? Will people remember him? Will people miss him? Will people even care?

So when this…roach shows up, how exactly is he supposed to react? He tries really hard; he really really does, but he knows it’s all futile in the end. Soap can handle him having inside jokes with Price and Gaz, Price looking at him exactly like how he sees all of 141, with pride and a trusting gaze. Soap quietly seethes. Gaz has inside jokes with roach, clapping him on the back and giving him a noogie, like roach is his little brother. Soap bites the inside of his cheek and it explodes with a stinging metal taste. But he cannot help the sickening jealousy that finally bursts in his head when he sees the soft crinkle of ghost’s eye when roach smiles at him.

What a fuckin’ cockroach.

He blinks, looking away quickly to take a sip of his beer, the lights in the bar suddenly too bright, the non-stop chattering suddenly too loud; and everything is crashing down at once. Everything is wrong. This is just wrong. He pushes it down though, smiles just the right way, laughs just in the right pitch. He couldn’t resist resting an elbow on ghost’s shoulder though, placing it there like a signal. See? He allows me to do this. Only me. I’m closer to him than you are.

Only when ghost finishes his bourbon, he picks up roach’s drink and takes a sip. Soap’s eyes widen slightly, only conveying a tiny ass fraction of the pure surprise that explodes in his body, locking him rigid. He glances between Price and Gaz, acting as if this is completely normal. Even when Ghost gives off an approving hum, placing down the glass with a small thunk, the sound echoing through soap’s mind. Even when roach acts like that was nothing. Even when they don’t notice soap hasn’t contributed in the conversation as much as he usually does. Even when- even when- even-

Soap takes the biggest gulp of air he can take discreetly, blowing it out into his cup as he takes another fuckin sip. Just like Ghost did with Roach’s glass.

He stands up, not patting Ghost’s shoulder as he tells them he needs to take a piss. He doesn’t look at any of them. He physically can’t. Every time he blinks he sees himself punching roach in the face, ripping the mask off and stuffing it down his throat. He sees himself breaking a beer bottle in half, slicing his neck cleanly and watching the blood steadily pour out. He sees himself sobbing at the table, begging to know that he isn’t a replacement to roach. He sees himself banging his head against the table until his brain matter slides off and falls onto the ground. He-

Soap dunks his head under the tap, taking in heaps of air until he’s borderline hyperventilating, trying to not get lost in his own head. He knows it isn’t roach’s fault. He’s been great company he’s the fucking worst and everything he’s feeling is the culmination of his own insecurity. But fuck, if that doesn’t just piss him off even more. Knowing there isn’t an actual reason to hate roach. He groans, slamming the edge of his palm to his forehead repeatedly to try and clear his brain.

Soap wants to rip this ugly feeling out of his chest, he wants to be normal. He needs to be normal. Soap wants to grab the black tar that gathers in his throat and chest, cleanse himself of everything. Soap wants to rip his hair out. Soap wants to know that he is safe. Soap wants to scratch his skin raw. Soap wants to bleed until he cannot feel anymore. Soap wants-

Soap looks up from the sink as the bathroom door opens. Speak of the god damned devil. Roach and Soap make eye contact with each other, an awkward silence filling the air for a few seconds before

Hey.

“Hey man.”

Roach shuffles a bit awkwardly to the sink, filling the silence with the sound of running water as soap dries his face. Just as he was about to turn and walk out the door, he felt a tap on his shoulder. Soap’s tense muscles somehow locked even more as he turned towards roach, hoping his facial expression wasn’t saying I hope you die in a ditch somewhere.

Sorry if tonight was awkward. I know how disorienting it can be to meet new people out of the blue. Especially since I used to be part of 141 and stuff… Roach’s hands falter and he wrings his hands nervously, as if not knowing what to say. Soap just stares at him. And…you seem like a really nice person. I would wanna get to know you better, if that’s okay with you? Roach looks at him with hesitation and Soap does. Not. Move. He probably took a lot longer than usual to reply, to even move or change his facial expression, but once his mind truly absorbs the words,

“Of course. Any friend of 141 is a friend of mine.” Soap automatically pats roach on the back and gives him an all teeth smile. Crinkles at the eyes. Warm look. Roach relaxes instantly, clapping him on the bicep.

Idiot. It’s probably a good thing no one else really knows how he feels.

[chronicowboy]

fuck it friday

i am starting this off today because i did two hours of revision and rewarded myself by actually working on the accidental kiss fic for the first time in a fortnight soooooo here:

Only this week Eddie's self-proclaimed errand day lands on the same day as his therapy. So, Eddie comes home with a pouty face, grumbling about the grocery list he's yet to write and the trip to the store he's yet to take.

"I wrote the list," Buck calls after him as Eddie wanders into the kitchen for his sandwich, his own attention fixed on the rainbow road Chris is trying to knock him off of. "On the pad by the fridge!"

Eddie reappears with his plate and the list, collapsing into the armchair to inspect it. Buck curses under his breath as Waluigi hits him with a red shell and takes the moment of recovery to chance a glance at Eddie. He looks good for a therapy day, a little dishevelled and grumpy sure, but Buck has a feeling that's more to do with the pile of laundry awaiting his attention. Eddie takes another bite of sandwich, and Buck's eyes are drawn to the smudge of mayo at the corner of his mouth.

"Buck, you aren't even moving!" Chris groans as he crosses the line for his final lap.

"Oh, shi... Shoot." Buck returns his attention to the screen, ignoring the big number 12 in the corner that just makes him want to look back at Eddie.

"You forgot detergent," Eddie chides through a mouthful of sandwich.

"Nah, there was an offer on the other day. Two for one." Buck manages to regain a little dignity as he hits Toadette with a green shell. "Noticed you were running low the last time I was over, so I brought you one."

"Oh," Eddie murmurs. "Its not your lavender one you use because you know that—"

"I haven't used the lavender one since Taylor moved out," Buck throws out distractedly, locked in a tense battle with baby Mario. "Its your normal orange blossom one."

Chris crosses the line with a hoot of victory, and Buck manages to nudge baby Mario over the course to crawl back to a respectable eighth place.

"I feel like you get worse at this every time," Chris taunts him.

"Maybe you just get better," Buck mutters as he tries to drift around a corner and fails spectacularly.

"But I'm always in first place. You just go lower and lower each time."

Eddie snorts just as Buck crosses the finish line—ninth place because of his drifting mistake—and Buck whips around to face him.

"Traitor," he hisses, irrationally disappointed that Eddie seems to have rectified the mayo smudge situation.

"You can't feel that went well for you," Eddie deadpans.

"Maybe I would have been sixth if you weren't bugging me about a grocery list." Buck resolutely ignores the gold trophy spinning on the TV. "Which you're welcome for by the way." Eddie looks up from the notepad with those soft eyes of his, and Buck swallows thickly.

"Thank you," he murmurs. "Really."

Buck is, like, super happy that Eddie is still going to therapy and healing, but sometimes he fucking hates post-therapy Eddie with all his walls torn down and his emotions on display for all to see.

"Don't thank me yet," Buck clears his throat. "You haven't smelt the workout clothes I added to your hamper."

idk who to tag but uh yeah fuck it, its friday!!!

[synthetic-rust]

‘Neas

[lenreli]

Day 11 - "You have to let me go"

[AO3]

Hob groans, wriggling in Dream’s arms ― all four of them, two of them focused on his chest hair and nipples, while the other two are tight around his shoulders. “Dream,” he rasps, feeling a barbed tongue lick up his throat, fanged teeth nibbling at his stubble. Even the oddly barbed dick Dream has for today, which was recently inside him, the soft barbs an extra layer to his orgasm, but unlike Dream and his literal prickly touch today, Hob is still human. 

“What?” Dream purrs, and Hob whines, arching into Dream’s hands as they press into his nipples, “you told me you wanted to slow down,” the other’s voice is almost a pout.

“Yes, and,” Hob’s words become a high moan as he grabs onto Dream’s hips, their cocks rutting against each other lazily. “You have to let me go ― for a bit, I need to go to the loo,” he says ― then groans, as two more arms come out of Dream’s side, going around his waist. “Dream, love, really, we can go back to it right after.” 

“You always say that, and then you go and get some food,” Dream says, squeezing him tightly until Hob wheezes.

“First of all, I actually want to fuck you before I go get food this time,” he croaks, and slowly Dream’s hold on him loosens, and he presses a flurry of kisses to Dream’s cheek, to Dream’s pouty lips as he gets up, “won’t be long, I promise!” 

Mindful of the many-limbed eldritch entity lounging on his bed, he quickly does his business and walks back into his room, but freezes at the door, arousal rapidly rising as he watches one of Dream’s hands near his hole, another hand ― “that, uh,” Hob gapes, brain rapidly connecting that Dream’s barbed cock ― splits open, melting into his crotch and revealing another hole that a pale finger is pressing into, Dream moaning indulgently. “I don’t―fuck,” he chokes out. 

“Hob, come here,” Dream says softly, and Hob’s helpless to it, another pair of Dream’s arms holding his legs open as the final pair grab onto Hob’s shoulder, bringing him closer to Dream’s body. “You did say you wanted to fuck me,” Dream purrs, voice smug and ending in a moan as Dream adds another finger to both of his entrances.

“Now I have to decide which one,” he gasps, watching as Dream smirks, “which one first. Fuck.”

[thatoneartistinthecorner]

I finally drew Julian from that poll I made ✋😅

[dreadfulsanity]

Hey there. Great you could make it. Come in. I'll give you the tour.

Let's start in the kitchen. Follow me.

This is Nali. I hope you can keep a secret. You know, because he might not be exactly registered. Anyway, what's your poison?

How do you like your tequila?

Guess I won't be working today.

This is my favorite spot. Aside from the bed and the bath. Love to read here, if Nali lets me. Or just look out over Night City. Could almost find some beauty in this dump from this point of view.

I know. I really need to throw this couch out. Too small.

And this is my computer setup, where I'd like to get work done. Again, if Nali lets me.

The statues? Super glue. It's bad enough that he likes to push the books off the shelf.

This is my netrunner cave. It's not used as much as in the past recently. But I still ride the waves sometimes.

Don't ask me where I got this ridiculous chair. Can't remember.

My other favorite spot in the house. I like to sleep in.

And here is where the magic happens. What? You didn't think I wake up looking like this, did you? And yes, Nali is sleeping on my underwear.

Pretty sure my brain tumor decorated this space when I was out cold. A shrine to his majesty. Or something.

And, last but not least, my third favorite spot. Taking a hot bath after taking a beating is the most relaxing thing in the world. Nali got to curious once and fell in. That was not fun, let me tell you.

[summerwages]

Starry starry nights..

[achinghcarts]

Yamanaka Ino [Moodboard]

There’s no meaning to a flower unless it blooms.

[crsentfairy]

new theme to match custom one. how we feelin

[adam-lallana]

dylan and ryan absolutely name their kids after the people in their lives/people they look up too:

- chris (biologically ryan’s as they decided to use surrogacy) is the oldest and is named after chris hackett, someone ryan saw as a father figure for many years.

- kaylee and albie (the twins that are biologically dylan’s because they also decided to use surrogacy for these kids as well) are named after kaylee hackett, someone ryan saw as a sister figure for many years, and albert einstein, the man who sparked dylan’s interest in quantum mechanics/physics.