#it's the domesticity of it all

[beanghostprincess]

SANUSO NATION HEAR ME OUT !!!

[eye-adler]

Watching Jett. Can't say i like it as i don't care about most of it but Jett and Maria's undefined relationship is making me want to howl at the moon. I could write a whole essay about them and their daughter.

[lazylittledragon]

enrichment for the baby rogue

[pangur-and-grim]

Hope you don’t mind unsolicited kitty cat pictures of my new worm-beast! Forcibly reminding myself that randombred cats can look like anything and that this elongated fella I found living at the local zoo is not in fact an oriental-type/lemur hybrid.

I'll be honest, this is the first cat I've seen that could actually be a Balinese cross.

if you'd only shown me the first photo, I would have 100% believed that was a Balinese. the fur and body type are so specific. and then the last photo couldn't be a Balinese (because of the white spotting), but I'd still believe it was an Oriental Longhair.

it's only the second photo that made me go oh......that's not quite right.....that's not how that should look.........

so I'd say the possibilities are:

you found a cat that has coincidental similarities to a Balinese/Oriental (cool!! awesome cat! the breed had to get the traits from somewhere, makes sense!)

you found a badly bred Oriental Longhair with a wonky face (not likely, OLHs are rare and tend to have a more standardized show-type appearance)

you found a Balinese cross (cool!! awesome cat!)

in any case, they are very beautiful and I'm an admirer of their special white stripe.

[hinamie]

long way home

[wonderthor]

dangerous and domestic sukuna🥺🥺

he’s a notorious man in the yakuza. always hunts and kills whoever his boss tells him to. everyone in the underground world is scared of him, and even those that are not usually are as well, with his tattoos all over his body and constantly bruised and scarred knuckles from beating information out of his victims.

but somehow, you’re not. although you’re so innocent you probably wouldn’t know a murderer if you see one. even though you know nothing about his work, yet notice the way others cower in fear around him. you’re not scared of him at all.

maybe it’s the way he comes home, quietly walking into the house and coming up to you. giving you a small, sweet smile as he ruffles your hair or pets your head. let’s out a gruff, “hey sweetheart,” before kissing you on your head. maybe that’s why you don’t understand how dangerous he is. i mean, how could he be? when he comes home and looks at you like you’re the sun that is the center of his world. even though he looks at everyone else like their existence alone bothers him sometimes.

and sometimes he cooks dinner when he comes home. you can’t argue with him on that, he’s surprisingly a great cook. you hand him the plates for him to put the food on and place them nicely on the table. and even though most couples like to sit across from each other, you like to sit next to him and eat while your head rests on his shoulder. when you sit next to him and place your silverware next to the plates, he looks down at you for a minute and grabs your chin to make you face him. for a moment, all you do is stare at each other, studying each other’s face.

“hey, you know you’re mine right?”

it catches you off guard, but you smile back up at him anyway.

“yes sukuna, i know. you tell me all the time.”

he chuckles down at you, moving his hand to softly rub along on your cheek.

“yeah well i just want to make sure you know it, and never forget.”

you kiss his hand when it makes its way to your lips.

“yeah well, i’ll never forget. i’ll always be yours.”

he stares down at you again, darker this time, before clearing his throat and moving to eat his dinner.

“alright baby, eat your dinner before it gets cold.”

you giggle and follow his actions, eating your dinner and dropping your head on his shoulder where it belongs.

[radfemridiculous]

If I have to see one more goddamn mention of the “male loneliness epidemic” i’m going to shoot myself. Yknow women have been lonely. For centuries. For millennia women have been lonely, isolated in marriages they didn’t want, forced into domestic labour they never asked for, at home with children they never dreamed of having, having their rights, their dreams, their aspirations, their hopes and dreams stripped away from them. For millennia! But sure some men can’t make friends and mean women won't fuck them. Let’s call it an epidemic and have all of the world’s professionals turn an eye to it, let’s have a shit ton of articles and papers written about why men can’t make friends or get girlfriends and how that’s just not fair you guys! It’s not as though men have been having the world spoon fed to them, carried to them on a golden platter for millennia either. It’s not as though every woman in a man’s life is forced constantly to do emotional labour for him because he has the mentality of a fucking six year old and is effectively useless on his own. It is the de facto position for a wife or a girlfriend to “fix” a useless man, to make him a real man, to make him empathetic and kind and patient, to temper and mature him and just hope to god he doesn’t fucking kill her on the way there. Men are lonely? Fucking good. Maybe, for the first time in civilisation, they fucking should be.

[tawnysoup]

the fritter (frin critter)

[patrickztump]

got an ipad so i had to draw my son in his many positions of rest

[brainrotcharacters]

Mothers and fuckers of the ketchup and mustard household (I'm going even more insane than usual)

[dilfmobius]

[rspaos]

Grocery shopping

Maybe a bit early but I've been getting into the mood since August

[ew-selfish-art]

Dpxdc AU: Damian decides that it’s time to go collect his brother from his assignment. Danny is starting to sniff out some non-ghostly bullshit for once.

Damian knew his twin had been exiled from the age of seven, banished to travel and observe how scientists around the world engaged with Lazarus water. The only word that Damian received that his spare was still alive were the letters of lab reports and findings that were sent back to base. As the Heir, he’s pushed to be better lest he himself be exiled or simply executed. Danny becomes a fleeting thought and then once Damian arrived in Gotham, a none existent thought.

They weren’t raised to be friends or even friendly. The were not taught codependency or allotted time to bond. The could have been perfect strangers if not for their appearance and the stories of Danny’s shortcomings becoming Damian’s praise.

It’s only once Tim informs him of an intercepted letter, one sent and saved from years prior, that Damian recalls Danny enough to care. Tim prompts him to share more, especially given the coup recently committed by Deathstroke (Slade) and Talia gone into hiding with her zealots.

At family dinner that night Damian supplies: “I suppose I should be the one to bereave my twin of his assignment. His reports will certainly go unread.”

Chaos in the Batfam ensues- meanwhile across the country- Danny sneezes and finishes writing his yearly report: “No major discoveries aside from public record patents (attached), No assistance required. -Spare”. He doesn’t know why he bothers, he hasn’t received any contact from his mother or grandfather since he was 10ish and certainly hasnt thought about his twin. But, if there’s a chance (even an itty bitty one) that his reports are being read and are holding off his reassignment, he’d rather keep assassins out of Amity Park.

Little does he know that this letter is about to be intercepted by Pru, former assassin and friend of Tim Drake. He hadn’t expected his twin to suddenly arrive and tell him that his job was done. And certainly, seeing a plane filled with an uncomfortable looking ‘family’ that requested he join them and get to know Gotham and his birth father, was not on his bingo list.

Danny does his best to let them down gently- and they seem to be accepting that he’s acclimated to this weird little town and will leave him be- when Danny suddenly has to transform into Phantom in front of them to handle a rocket sent by Skulker.

They are less willing to accept his appeal to be left alone after that… Damian is trying to “bond” with him and all the others are trying to “help” in their own way.

Sam and Tucker howl with laughter at Danny’s suddenly very large family- all while secretly working with the Wayne’s to get Danny the fuck away from the Fentons before the scientists do something they can’t undo.

[jangmi-latte]

wait if he was a first year here and vil said he bulked up/grew bigger during the latest beanfest then...then what is this. is this not bulky enough what h..how big did he grow now that he's a third year..h-he grew bigger???? h-he gained more muscle now that he's older??? a-and he's still working out???? w-what do you mean wha..what i..i like...like he GREW BIGGER????????

BIGGER!??!??!??!?!!?!!??

[hinamie]

alongside someone like you

[willowser]

HMMMMM bakugou being just. the absolute picture of sin.

he works overnight and comes home early in the morning, around 3 or 4 am or so, and you greet him and give him a kissy and ask how it all went. and even though it's still dark outside and he's been working for twelve hours—he's still coming off patrol, right ? so he's still got some energy left, and he eats something and takes a shower and winds down as you fall back to sleep.

and it's not until much later in the day that he wakes up, early afternoon, and you're kind of tiptoeing around so that he can get his much-needed rest. you slip into the closet of your bedroom for something and you think you're gonna get in and out without a sound, but his hearing is so attuned to just about anything and everything at this point.

so rough and raspy, he grunts out, "what're y'lookin' for?" and you whip around real fast and he's just—

half sitting up in bed, bare back leaning against the headboard. an arm behind his head, so that his bicep is tense and round and stone-solid. stretched like that, his obliques are more prominent, taut and rippling up the side of his ribcage. he must have gotten hot while passed out, as he usually does, because the comforter is all askew; one of his legs is bent, the fine hair a dark gold in the waning day; the other is hanging off the bed, lightly swinging as he watches you, and the blanket has come down enough that you can see the bulge of his thigh muscles beneath his stupid tiny black boxer briefs.

and he's just so. man. in every single way.

(his hair is flat on one side, too, and his eyes are still a little puffy from sleep—but you think that adds to it, all in all)