#chick fight

[drmonkeysetroscans]

Banter.

[mistergreatbones]

People always say bruce kidnapped jason immediately after meeting him but at least he only took him in after leaving him at the crime orphanage didn’t work out. With cass they had exactly one conversation consisting of them drawing in the dirt and throwing punches at each other while bruce projected his past experiences onto her and then he was welcoming her in like “i have complete confidence that she won’t kill anybody”

[crushedsweets]

Toby not giving a shit when Nina complains about mundane shit but being incredibly serious when it’s actually her safety at risk

Toby being over dramatic and worried when Clocky complains about mundane shit but being relaxed when something serious happens cuz he knows she can handle it

[little-pondhead]

She looks like a gargoyle?? Babygirl pLEASE get down😭

I suppose this is their way of letting me know they want more food (which they have plenty of??)

[ghouljams]

Cowboy!Gaz takes Birdie on their first date and nothing illegal happens...

You’ve never been much for love, anything more than fun and it starts getting complicated. You don’t mean to toot your own horn but you had more proposals tossed your way than you did college acceptance letters the summer after you graduated high school. Your mom always wanted you to get married, your older sister was happily wedded to her sweetheart didn’t you want that? The stability of marriage? Wasn’t that why she’d had you competing in pageants since you could walk? Proving what a pretty little wife you’d make?

Gag. You didn’t have the temperament for all that traditional marriage stuff.

Your friends called you flighty, restless, ready to run at the mere mention of white dresses, and more affectionately: Birdie.

So you’re pretty sure it’s just attraction that clenches in your chest when Kyle takes your hand as you’re walking down main street. Neither of you really have a plan for the day. You’d only insisted on going somewhere with a different bar, not eager to have anyone you knew know you had a date. Not when it could get back to your mama. 

You suppose it’s not too bad that the next nearest bar was in the next town over. It’s a cute place. Neither of you know anyone, or which stores are good, so you wander and talk and just enjoy each other's company.

“Ok, least favorite subject in school?” You ask, stepping over a missing chunk of sidewalk.

“Definitely maths.” Kyle hums, you swing your joined hands between you.

“Maths,” You mimic his accent, “Hit me with an ‘ah-lu-minium’ and I might swoon.” You’re tugged against Kyle’s side, held close against the firm muscle of his chest. He doesn’t let go of your hand, just twists his hold to wrap his arm around your shoulders.

“Nuh-uh not after I had to listen to you say ‘crayon’.” You laugh and push at his chest to be released. “If you didn’t sound so cute sayin’ it-” Kyle grumbles, you like the way his ‘complaint’ makes heat rise in your cheeks, “You wanna try rural next?”

“God, please, anything but that.” You grin.

“That’s what I thought,” He meets your smile with one of his own. It’s easy talking to Kyle, it feels like you haven’t been able to stop smiling since he picked you up. Which is already a point in his favor. Another point: he doesn’t let you go when you start walking again. He keeps you held close even with the adjustments you have to make to keep from tripping.

“How about something to eat?” You ask, catching yourself from resting your head on his shoulder. Damn this man and his charm.

“Not really anywhere private…” Kyle hums, you shoot him a look and find him holding back laughter, “We passed a pub not far down, how’s that?”

“I’d have a drink.” Not too many, you remind yourself. You’re not supposed to start fights on dates. Kyle turns the both of you around, and you spend a solid second trying to figure out how he did that.

The “pub” is really just a bar. Which you could’ve guessed by the fact that this is America. They have food though, thank god. You lean against the bar to talk to the bartender and order. Glancing back at Kyle to ask what he wants. His eyes survey the bar, his stetson held low behind you. Covering your ass from the stares of the other men in the bar, you realize with a not insignificant amount of butterflies in your stomach. He smiles when he catches you staring, all warmth where he’d previously been as serious as death. That doesn’t help the butterfly situation. 

He must think you’re looking for him to pay because he leans close, his hat just brushing your ass, to speak low to you, “Go find a seat, I’ll finish up.”

You would love for him to tell you twice, but you nod and push off the bar to find a two top. He settles his hat back on his head with a wink. You do your best not to bump into any spare chairs staring at him. He turns to talk to the bartender, leaning his elbows against the bar, his shirt tight over his shoulders and around his biceps. You bump into a chair and catch him smiling to himself as you try and play off your stumble to the rest of the patrons.

You pull a chair out and sit down, happy to shove your face in your hands and take a moment to be embarrassed. No problem. You’re a grown ass adult, you can drool a little over your date. He’s the one being charming and nice and God you want his arm around you again. 

A shadow looms over you, pressing a hand against the table, heavy enough to shift the weight of it. You look up from your hands, give the stranger a bored expression. Men who frequent bars this time of day are some of your least favorite. Drunk and unkempt, isn’t really your type. Especially when they only seem confident enough to half insult you more than actually flirting. 

“That supposed to be your boyfriend?” You roll your eyes, you’re not starting a fight, you’re not- “He come in men’s?”

“I think you come in men enough for the both of us.” You deadpan, God dammit.

“Ah, that’s cute, you got a mouth on you.” He hardly seems phased, if anything he thinks you’re playing hard to get. You glare up at him. “Come on little lady, I can show you a good time.”

“Oh I’m positive you can’t.” You tell him, blood starting to bubble just at the edge of your nerves, adrenaline starting to pump excitedly. You’re not fighting, you’re being good. You’re not going to scare off Kyle. You’d never hear the end of it from Goose if you did.

“You’ll change your tune once you-”

Kyle’s fist collides with the man’s face, the solid thud as it knocks into his jaw and loosens teeth is sickening and satisfying. Your eyes light up as the man collapses and Kyle shakes out his hand without so much as a flinch. The bar goes silent. Your breath picks up, a smile splitting your face as you grab Kyle’s hand and drag him out of there at a sprint. Laughter bubbles out of you as you run. The crash and clamor of upset bar patrons filling in behind you. You glance back at the scene, at the grin that lights up Kyle’s face as he scoops you up and tosses you over his shoulder, barely breaking stride. You screech and do your best not to laugh too hard as you flip off the bruised and bleeding man swearing at you from 20 meters behind.

Maybe your heart clenches with more than just attraction when you think of the grin Kyle was wearing as he ran after you. At the laughter that he lets out hearing the obscene insults you throw back at the bar. “We can never come back here,” He chuckles, a little breathless as he fumbles his keys from his pocket to unlock the car. 

“Not the first time someone’s said that to me,” You tell him, letting him set you in the passenger seat. He leans against the top of the car, ducked to keep his eyes on you. There’s a look in them that you’ve always dreaded, but somehow it doesn’t make you want to bolt from the car.

“And I hope it’s not the last.” He tells you sincerely. You bite your lip to contain your smile. Kyle glances over his shoulder and shuts the door quickly, sliding over the hood to hop in the driver’s side. He throws the car into gear and peels out of town just as a bottle hits the ground you used to be parked. He doesn’t look the least bit bothered by it, or your eager rubbernecking.

Maybe running isn’t so bad if you have someone to run with you.

[yodawgiheardyoulikemecha]

Seriously considered naming this blog "I Dig Giant Robots!" before choosing "Yo Dawg, I Heard You Like Mecha".

[professorbeesart]

McQueen vs. Hicks

[piningpercussionist]

Here's Kim Pine smoking weed

And here's her smoking w the DHCs. Brought to you by Discord Shenanigans and my Unhinged Mind

[wooyoungisbaby]

ATEEZ but theyre

✨ Animal Crossing ✨

the row on the far left is the main one. their state assigned acnh fursona.

[shannonallaround]

After pondering on it for several days, I have officially decided I did not like the direction of KFP4 and have banished it from my brain. It is no longer canon. KFP4? What's that? Don't know what you're talking about.

[drmonkeysetroscans]

Trouble.

[phantomrose96]

Pikmin 4 is good but the 4th area is twisted and evil and fucked up and bad, actually, cuz they make you have to hurt a dog every time you go there.

[sutjak]

the brainrot has gotten to me again but ive become hooked onto this topic and unless i speak it into the void it will end up killing me.

In all universes of Fight Club, the narrator is transgender (to me) and Tyler is cis. I especially love this lil headcanon with them both being girls.

The Narrator is this tall, scrawny 6'0" loser ridden with insomnia and no tits. She works a horrible 9-5 and sometimes has to do field work. Because of her insomnia, she never has the energy to explore her feminity.

Tyler, and her name would be Tyler because that's hot, would be her oppisite, is everything she thinks she wants and wants to be. This woman has Tits-unreal perky Cs- and dresses like a whore. Tyler's wardrobe consists only of mesh crop tops, button-ups without any buttons, lowrise jeans, and a distinct lack of bras (she has panties, but they are all thongs). Her head is shaved and wears giant rings and earrings. Most importantly, she has a vagina.

Not to mention how outspoken Tyler is. She's bold and brash, similar but not quite like Marla because Marla is gross and the Narrator definitely doesn't like Marla. Tyler is strong and can get men down on their knees and make them do anything.

What really sold Fight Club to me was the contrast between Tyler and The Narrator, how they ended up being the same person despite, in the end, how different their goals were. How they both had the same wants- to live a little, experience things never before experienced, but only one of them wanted to expand that desire. Fight Club ends with the Narrator fighting back against what he thought he wanted and warming to what he resisted.

I think transfem!narrator would be at peace with this ending, settling down with the weird and unfriendly grunge girl and cherishing but putting away the ultrafem radical fantasies she had.

[ragnar0c]

It’s always them… 

[ask-lu-wild]

Oh dear. Sky, some cans of worms should not be opened...

[superfluffychickens]

The Shoulder Gang™️