#when in fact there very much was

[marlynnofmany]

You know how in stories where the heroes save the world from some magical apocalypse, a lot of the time the general public has no idea? They just go about their lives afterward, not even realizing how close they came to disaster, much less that there's someone to thank for that?

Picture how those heroes feel.

That's how the programmers who stopped the Y2K bug most likely feel.

Thanks for saving us, folks. I just heard the song "Party Like It's 1999", and thought of you.

[crocsfroggo]

can we talk about how AWESOME it is when the light hits nimona's eyes?

It's the same effect you get when you take a flash photo of an animal!!! it is an incredible detail to demonstrate that she is not human !!! I loved it

[inkskinned]

you're in the habit of denying yourself things.

if someone asked you directly, you would say that you love a little treat. you like iced coffee and getting the cookie. you drink juice out of a fancy cup sometimes, and often do use your candles until they gutter out helplessly.

but you hesitate about buying the 20 dollar hand mixer because, like. you could just use your arms. you weren't raised rich. you don't get to just spend the 20 dollars (remember when that could cover lunch?), at least - you don't spend that without agonizing over it first, trying to figure out the cost-benefits like you are defending yourself in front of a jury. yes, this rice cooker could seriously help you. but you do know how to make stovetop rice and it really isn't that hard. how many pies or brownies would you actually make, in order to make that hand mixer worthwhile?

what's wild is that if the money was for a friend, it would already be spent. you'd fork over 40 without blinking an eye, just to make them happy. the difference is that it's for you, so you need to justify it.

and it sneaks in. you ration yourself without meaning to - you don't finish the pint of ice cream, even though you want to. the next time you go to the store, you say ah, i really shouldn't, and then you walk away. you save little bits of your precious things - just in case. sometimes you even go so far as putting that one thing in your shopping cart. and then just leaving it there, because maybe-one-day, but not right now, there's other stuff going on.

you do self-care, of course. but you don't do it more than like, 3 days in a row. after that it just feels a little bit over-the-edge. like. you can't live in decadence, the economy is so bad right now, kid.

so you don't buy the rice cooker. you can-and-will spend the time over the stove. you can withstand the little sorrows. denial and discipline are practically synonyms. and you're not spoiled.

it's just - it's not always a rice cooker. sometimes it is a person or a job or a hug. sometimes it is asking for help. sometimes it is the summer and your college degree. sometimes it is looking down at scabbed knees and feeling a strange kind of falling, like you can't even recognize the girl you used to be. sometimes it is your handprint looking unsteady.

sometimes it is tuesday, and you didn't get fired, and you want to celebrate. but what is it you like, even? you search around your little heart and come up empty. you're so used to denying that all your desires draw a blank.

oh fuck. see, this is the perfect opportunity. if you had a mixer, you'd make a cake.

[demaparbat-hp]

She will (and he'll let her)

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[hinamie]

every so often i have to relearn how to draw yuuji or he starts fighting me

[puppetmaster13u]

Prompt 163

Danny pinched the bridge of his nose, taking a deep breath, counting to ten and then letting it out. Why was this always his luck? Alright. Okay. Time to move again thanks to Dan pushing his body too far again, and ending up in his core. This was not how he was expecting to spend his days when he ghost-adopted his clone and sort-of son now actual son. Welp, he’ll throw a dart at the map to figure out where he’ll go next. 

Hm. Well, pack up Ellie! They’re moving to a place called Smallville, you always wanted a horse, right?

[majunju]

dance partner

[torchstelechos]

I love that Isabeau is the one to bring up the "what do we do if you die" conversation cause its a very good insight to his character at the very start of the game. Isabeau is practical, smart, and loves everyone dearly and wants to know how to help them when shit goes sideways. He's the one to ask about Bonnie too, which is a delightful read on how he thinks because everyone else shuts that down instantly as a "That wont happen and cant happen" but we see later in the game it can happen which is such a startling thing for a game to do but justifies the foreshadowing of Bonnie can die what do we do if that happens? Isabeau, despite everything, is also the one who gets to the heart of the matter even if its not something must people are willing to talk about. All without it being part of his friendquest, thats just him naturally. Which! Says so much about him and how he is! His character when its not about his relationship with Siffrin is a very intriguing thing because it feels like a very classic hard intellectual stance that's been softened after many years of learning to better communicate healthily with others. A reflection, if you will, of Odile but in a very drastic direction. I find him fascinating and I also want to scoop his brains out and study them under a microscope to see all his little brain thoughts.

[catocappuccino]

Hehe

[cringefail-clown]

the difference between karkat and kankri when it comes to their shared aspect of blood is that karkat, as a knight, will protect and cultivate the bonds between his friends and will form connections with others easily due to his empathetic nature, even if said others are fucked up people in the eyes of others (see: his whole deal with spades slick, the way he formed moriallegience with rampaging gamzee), people naturally come into his orbit, meanwhile kankri being a seer doesnt want to create a connection between himself and others, but he wants to understand and study how those bonds work between people, basically looking outside in on the relationships and forming a list of do's and dont's when it comes to cultivating that connection

in other words, karkats that one motherfucker at the party whos somehow friends with everyone here, no matter their background, and everyone fucking loves that foul-mouthed guy, meanwhile kankri is standing in the corner like a creep and nobody knows exactly what his deal is but he knows what everyones deal is and somehow has knowledge of all of partygoers dirty laundry, even if theyve never seen him in their fucking life

[ohitslen]

Living together.

The snail video if you are interested :)

[soadscrawl]

that "keith having to flirt w an enemy alien while lance is supposed to help but hes jealous" trope that i like

[hellenhighwater]

I just wanted to say that as intense and melancholic your Minotaur sculpture series looks and makes me feel, the ways you *write* about it gives me chills. The way you mix an explanation of the piece and little bits of flavor text in every post you make about it is just delightful.

Aw, thank you! I don't really know what I'm like...known for, I guess, but I do actually write for a living. Words are my profession. Sometimes it comes through! Sometimes it does not and I just spew malaphors incoherently.

[shimmershy]

Buttercups and Golden Flowers

[unfamd]

i strongly believe that in any universe modern or otherwise lwj uses lan xichen as a kind of confessional like a catholic priest. he literally comes into lan xichen's room at four pm precisely because that's the scheduled time that he allows himself to share an Emotion with his brother and sits down and says in a distinctly monotone yet perfectly recognisably anguished tone 'brother i have sinned' and lan xichen sighs very quietly because he doesn't want to hurt his brother's feelings and puts down his pen and says 'is this about wei wuxian' very gently and Lan Wangji is like 'mn' because it has never once Not been about wei wuxian. and then he says something that is Kind Of Weird, But Still Not A Sin like 'he fell asleep when we were studying and i watched his ribcage moving up and down for thirty eight minutes until he choked on nothing and woke himself up; am i evil' and once again lan xichen will kind of not-sigh in a way that makes it very obvious that in all other ways except physical he Is, Indeed, Sighing and has to reassure the most rigidly distraught younger brother in the history of mankind that what he is suffering from is in fact a malady known colloquially as a crush