#this is actully me

[ninjasmudge]

thats a red flag narinder, get that crown back while you still can

+ top panel without text below the cut

[cosmicdenro]

can someone take me to the back and use the gun on me

[teamnotsoepic]

love at furst sight

[anemonet]

pro tip: you can always put the bugs in little outfits :thumbsup:

[chrliekclly]

horrible parents horrible women horrible yuri

[felsicveins]

His heart belongs to another

And no other heart will do

[theduckeminence]

POV: You walked in during the Director’s 2 minute lunch break 💥 💥

[intotheelliwoods]

Hate to inform you all, I know the theme is decades, which is mostly going to be represented by lots of clothing from each era, but dont expect any of my sons to even attempt to dress decent!

Featuring @dianagj-art's funky street kitten

@tmntaucompetition

[venomgaia]

KROMERPEDE......I made her in a sudden daze you can get her as a sticker on redbubble!

[bastardcatthings]

*life going horribly wrong* *rocking back and forth: "Norstappen will save me. A Norstappen podium will heal me. They have shared every podium in Miami. They're going to win again. They will make it all ok. This is their circuit. BIENVENIDOS A MIAMI-"*

[bialbovi]

Guess the autobot and count all his pockets :)

Note: yes he’s very young

between (among) the pinky and the ring fingers

between (among) living at home and being an exile

among the freckles of a red-haired boy

did I see him or did I just think so

between the right of force and right to choose

between all being ”as it is” and "inside-out”

between the moment you have wilted, then you’ve blossomed

Where we were holding hands? Or where the map does not lay routes?

Is it where we are nothing, just compounds

And every atom’s self?

WHERE IS HE WHERE IS HE where where is God hiding

rough translation of >>> "де бог" by renie cares

Also I like interpreting the song in like a few different ways, everyone can have a crisis

[stebbinsgreyhoundfursuit]

This is geunily the worst thing I've ever made it took days not because it took any effort but because I could not make myself look at it any longer 😟😟😟.....

[muxas-world2]

The sad baby eyes and loook poor flop princes “4 is not my place and I got not feline “ “if i got my feeling I can’t fight Marc”

[sweetmoonlight7]

15. Drive

@jegulus-microfic | May 15. drive | word count: 316

James had been told that when he was a baby it was nearly impossible to put him to sleep.

Apparently, his boundless energy would not allow a single member of the Potter family to rest properly.

Of course, though, James had the most amazing parents who did everything they could think of to get him to settle down and sleep. They would play music or watch movies and take him around the park, but nothing worked.

It wasn't until his dad realized that during every trip to the grocery store, James would fall asleep within minutes of getting in the car. From that day forward anytime James could not sleep they would take him on a drive.

So that's why he was here, two hours into a drive that he had to beg Regulus to take in hoping that his boyfriend would finally find some rest.

He thought that maybe since it had worked for him it could also work for Regulus.

Regulus had been so stressed about the move and how his parents would react that he could count on one hand how many nights he had slept.

James had tried to do something about it before.

Really he did!

But trying to help Regulus is impossible, the boy being overly stubborn with his every word and movement.

It had gotten so bad that his boyfriend's pretty pale face had deep sunken eyes with dark purple under them, and while James would always find the other boy beautiful he knew this was not healthy.

So he took him out in hopes that what lulled him to sleep as a child could somehow help his star.

After getting him in the car it only took a few minutes for Regulus to fall asleep and James was left to watch as his chest moved slowly up and down and his breath came out in peaceful puffs.

[anemonet]

has anyone here concidered listening to whisper by jack staubers micropop on loop

[aikohellscape]

I hate editing ugh so much has been changed because my brain refuses to let me rest if this isn’t perfect. Spoilers for the fic, not all of it is tho ;)

More nightsilver drabbles to help me cope:

Pietro would never admit it, obviously, because admitting it would mean acknowledging just how much time he actually spent watching Kurt—but God, he loved how expressive that tail of his was. It was practically a second language, flicking and curling in ways that gave away what Kurt was feeling even when his face was doing its best to hide it. It was adorable, really. Not that Pietro would ever use that word. It definitely wasn’t like he purposefully doted on Kurt, nudging into his space or throwing out teasing remarks just to see that tail flick sharply in irritation or—better yet—loop around his wrist in unconscious affection. No, that would be ridiculous. Completely unnecessary. A total waste of time. Not something he thought about. At all.

Kurt didn’t mind that Pietro smoked—not really. If anything, he thought it suited him, especially when he exhaled a thick cloud, the vapor curling lazily around his face, catching the light just right, making him look almost otherworldly. It was even better when he blew it out through his nose, the milky tendrils blending seamlessly with his white hair, like some kind of mischievous spirit lounging in the early evening glow. He probably shouldn’t find it as mesmerizing as he did, but there was something undeniably captivating about it. Meanwhile, Pietro thought he was an absolute dork for staring, considering he was literally just slouched on the balcony in a bean bag chair, taking dabs, like this was some kind of grand performance instead of just another Tuesday.

The first time Pietro saw Kurt in that near-feral state, all wide, unseeing golden eyes and sharp, defensive movements, he realized just how deep the damage ran—how whatever Hydra had done to him wasn’t just a memory but something etched into his very being, into the way he flinched, the way he moved like he expected the world to close in and crush him. The image wouldn’t leave Pietro’s head, had been keeping him up for nights now, haunting the edges of his mind like an ugly, unshakable truth. He sat on the edge of the bed, gaze locked onto Kurt’s sleeping form, taking in the faint furrow in his brow, the exhaustion that clung to him even in rest, the bruises still faintly visible beneath his fur. His fists clenched at his sides. He hated all of it—hated how helpless it made him feel, how no amount of quick thinking or sharp words could fix this. Fuck whatever he felt for Kurt, fuck the warmth that had crept up on him when he wasn’t paying attention, because if he could turn back time—if he could erase himself from Kurt’s life entirely but undo what they’d done to him—he’d do it. No hesitation.

Kurt doesn’t want his memories back—not that he’d ever admit it. The thought alone feels like a betrayal, like something that would make the others look at him differently if he dared to say it out loud. But the truth is, he’s happy here. Happier than he has any right to be. Toad and Lance don’t make him feel like some fragile thing that needs fixing, don’t look at him with pity or tread carefully around the gaps in his mind. They just let him exist—just let him be, in a way that feels effortless, in a way that feels like belonging. Even Tabby, loud and relentless as she is, has her own way of showing she cares, in teasing remarks and sharp grins that say I’ve got your back even if she never actually says the words. Then there’s Pietro. Pietro, who has done so much for him, who has given without expectation, without demanding anything in return. He doesn’t know what their relationship was before, doesn’t know if he’s supposed to owe Pietro something, but none of that seems to matter now. Not to him. Not to Pietro. Whatever his old life was, whatever past is waiting for him—it can wait. Right now, he wants to stay. Just a little longer.