It's What They Deserve - Tumblr Posts
Third game in the BOTW/TOTK series: farming game like Stardew or AC. Link and Zelda decorate their home and grow Silent Princesses on a hillside. The Master Sword is just for decoration. They get a dog. You can pet the dog.
I love how ADeuce fans treat the two of them, it’s hilarious. It reminds me of how dog owners act with their dogs vs how cat owners are with their cat.
Fans with Deuce: This is Deuce, he’s a rescue and we love him very much, he is a perfect Angel and he tries his best every day-
Fans with Ace: This is Ace, we pulled him out of a trash can and now he won’t leave us alone. He has caused every problem in this world and everything is his fault. He is the king of bastards and despised by all who meet him.
watched Gurren Lagann for the first time and couldnt get this outta my head :)
Wow, Oh my goodness, thank you.
Hunter and Omega angst or fluff doesn't matter, dragon au please 😁 also happy holidays
FlappyDragons
i have been cursed by an evil wizard who has maliciously bestowed upon me the Curse Of Not Answering Asks On Time
HOME IS WHEREVER YOU ARE TONIGHT𖥔 ݁ ˖๋࣭ ⭑🌱🌲
Fluff request: sleepy katniss demands to be carried by peeta
Word count: 1.3k
cw: none!
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It's late afternoon and Peeta is showing Katniss how to make muffins in her kitchen. He's talking her through the steps, carrying out each action slowly so she catches it, when Katniss begins to look around the room.
Save for the flour on the countertop, it's spotless. Everything is in order - the space is leagues away from the mess it was when Peeta first found her after his return from the Capitol.
Katniss can’t help but feel a little proud of how far she’s come since then.
“Still with me, honey?” The sound of Peeta placing the baking tray into the oven pulls Katniss out of her thoughts.
The girl hums noncommittally as Peeta's hand moves to frame her waist - brushing over where her stomach is far softer than it was all those months ago; warm and filled with food for the first time in forever.
He pulls her away from the countertop easily.
"What are we doing?" Katniss's voice is light- almost unrecognisable when she thinks back to the hoarse mess it once was.
Peeta pulls her close so that their chests are pressed together and her head is resting against his collarbone, "We're dancing, sweetheart."
(Katniss is hesitant to call it 'dancing', but when she looks up, Peeta looks so blissful and at peace, that she decides to keep her mouth shut.)
She and Peeta move around the kitchen slowly, bodies pressed together. There’s a smudge of flour just above his eyebrow, and Katniss knows that there’s probably some on her face too. But then Peeta sweeps her up in his arms; one arm around her back, the other under her knees as he spins her around and Katniss finds that she couldn’t care less.
Neither does Peeta apparently because the boy leans forward and presses a soft kiss to her lips like he hasn’t a care in the world.
“I can hear you thinking from here,” he whispers, placing a kiss to the tip of her nose. “What’s on your mind, Kat?”
Katniss just shakes her head, nestling further into his arms. "Nothing really. What's on yours?”
Peeta hoists her a little higher up kissing her again sweetly. When he pulls away there’s a sunlit smile adorning his face.
“You’re on my mind. Always are.”
Katniss rolls her eyes at this but the way her heart starts thudding quicker in her chest is near impossible to miss.
“I love you,” Peeta murmurs then, and it’s so casual, so easy, that Katniss can’t help but feel a little envious of his openness. She smiles back and dips her head.
“You’re a sap.”
Peeta kisses her temple swiftly and grins, “Only for you, sweetheart. Only for you.”
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That night, dinner is warm muffins and milk on the couch. Katniss’s legs are in Peeta’s lap as he chatters to her about his morning at the bakery.
The girl is only half listening so Peeta’s words wash over her easily - she focuses instead on the way his soft blonde hair curls a little at the nape of his neck and his blue eyes light up when he laughs. When a badly stifled yawn escapes her, the boy cocks his head and smiles.
“Tired?”
There’s no point lying to him, so Katniss doesn’t even try.
“A little.”
Peeta takes her mug from her hands and places it on the countertop before crouching in front of her.
“C’mon then. Let’s get you upstairs.” He brushes her hair back and Katniss leans into the touch, covering his hand with her own so it cradles her face.
“Carry me?” Tiredness can make Katniss Everdeen incredibly bold sometimes, and the girl can't find it in herself to care.
With anyone else, she’d be nervous about asking something like that. But this is Peeta, so when her request registers, the boy smiles softly and nods.
“Always.”
Placing an arm around her back and the other under her knees, Peeta scoops Katniss up into his warm arms for the second time today, carrying her upstairs with such care that Katniss thinks she might just be seconds away from melting on the spot.
He sits Katniss down on the bed in their room and gets back up, moving to rummage through their closet.
“You’re sweet when you're tired.”
Katniss sticks her tongue out at him in retaliation and Peeta snorts, raising his hands in mock defeat.
“I take it back - you’re fearsome.”
And then he’s laughing, and peppering her face with tiny kisses and Katniss giggles too - a small girlish sound that she woulnd’t have been caught dead making a few years ago - pushing him away gently as her face warms.
Peeta places the shirt she’s been wearing to bed on the comforter beside her before stepping away and beginning to change out of his own clothes.
Katniss makes a halfhearted effort to get changed before flopping backwards on the bed.
“I’m too tired.”
(She’s not really, but the sound of Peeta laughing in response makes her heart soar.)
“Do you need some help?” He comes over and gestures to her legs, or more accurately, the sweatpants she’s still wearing.
Katniss nods, and Peeta kneels in front of her, pulling the sweatpants down her legs easily.
She’s struck by how normal it feels. The domesticity of it all - the sweet intimacy of his actions. There was a time when Katniss would have shied away from his featherlight touch but tonight she finds herself revelling in it.
“Arms up for me, sweetheart.”
Katniss obliges and Peeta pulls her shirt off, replacing it with the one he’d left beside her.
“Thank you for taking care of me.” She’s shocked by how much emotion her voice carries, but Peeta just grins down at her.
“Always.”
Then, he pulls back the comforter and helps her slide under. Katniss doesn't protest at all - just lets him tuck her in and press his lips to her forehead as she shuts her eyes.
She’s almost in the warm embrace of sleep when she hears Peeta shuffling around the room, bare feet padding against wooden floorboards quietly.
(He has always been heavy-footed, but she can tell he's trying to make as little noise as possible).
"I'm so proud of you, Katniss. I'm so, so proud of you all the time, sweetheart. I should probably tell you more often."
It dawns on Katniss then that he must think her asleep, and her suspicions are confirmed when his soft voice drifts across the room and wraps itself around her like a lullaby.
Katniss can almost hear the smile on his lips as he mumbles.
"You're real pretty, you know that, Katniss? Real pretty. Leave me breathless all the time. I wish you'd see it too. You are so, so beautiful." His voice is closer now, and Katniss feels his hand brushes featherlight against her cheek as he speaks.
"I wish you'd let me paint you. I'd put flowers in your hair, maybe daisies?" A soft snort follows, "Who am I kidding, you'd never let me do that."
He lies down next to her then, wrapping his arms around her waist easily and moulding himself around the curl that her body forms.
Katniss knows, she knows, that she should say something back. Thank him for his words, maybe. Tell him that she's proud of him too. Everyday.
But it's Peeta who has always been the one with the sweet, loving words. A boy practically brimming with soft, kind reassurances and easy proclamations of devotion. Katniss on the other hand has never been very good at finding the right words and knowing when to use them or at explaining how she feels.
Still, when she hears his breathing even out, the words fall out of her mouth - whispered under the moon’s watchful gaze as Peeta sleeps. Katniss takes the hand that’s on her waist and brings it up to her lips - dusting a kiss over his fingertips.
“I love you too, Peeta.”
GOLDEN GLOBE AWARDS 2019
Into the Spider-Verse | Best Motion Picture - Animated
sam having evan make her lists,,,is so soft. already i have so many just. fic and dynamic ideas for these four. they make me so happy. they’re so awkward. it’s so good.
See these right here? The focus on Spinner’s expression of understanding and empathy as Shigaraki explains his feelings...
How Spinner’s not just the only member of the league to see Shigaraki’s victory against the MLA, but how he describes it (Shigaraki) as the prettiest thing he’s ever seen...
That one panel where it emphasizes Spinner’s heartbeat with “doki-doki” sound effects while he’s looking at Shigaraki on his throne...
Horikoshi has been consistently bringing attention to these little moments to show how important the relationship between Spinner and Shigaraki is. I mean, besides the everything Spinner does for Shigaraki in the War Arc (implied bridal carrying, constant cradling, always thinking about what Shigaraki would want or need, that goddamn lizard-mating-claim-bite), he literally uses Mr. Compress as a mouthpiece to call this out.
With all this visual evidence alone, I think Spinaraki is the one of the most canon romantic relationships in this goddamn manga!
ALSO starting off the New Year to remind everyone that Spinner loves and is in love with Shigaraki and this is quite literally canon.
✨🖐🏻♥️🦎✨
Horikoshi’s new drawing on his twitter!
The words in the top background is:
変態仮装行列 | Debauched Costume Parade
(lit. translation: Strange Costume Parade; but I used ‘debauched’ to convey the tone/feel it’s going for)
Context!
Halloween’s getting popular to celebrate in Japan, especially in Shibuya Ward in Tokyo, where crowds of (young) people gather in costumes to party. Over the years, it got more rowdy and drunk and stupid, until finally in 2018, a riot broke out that overturned cars and smashed vending machines.
Commentators said it was lawless, a sign of the end of civilization. Also no one was spending money at the shops they were blocking from potential customers. The director of Shibuya Center Shopping Street, Mr. Toshiyuki Ono, (basically like some community big-shot/neighborhood captain?) got angry and called this a ‘Debauched Costume Parade.’ There were suggestions to control it by turning it into a formal event limited to a park, or fine the participants, or even ban Halloween in Shibuya.
So of course, the phrase Debauched Costume Parade started trending on social media, and maybe even turned into a bit of a meme.
It’s hard to control the annual Shibuya Halloween Mob because there’s no formal organizer, and so there’s no one to take responsibility. This is a purely spontaneous gathering of people to party and get drunk. It’s an ‘debauched’ anarchic riot that pisses off authorities and making the good citizens clutch their pearls…
…Which is the exact spirit and philosophy of the League of Villains. 👌🏼🖤 Hence in the doodle, they’re here to join in the fun, probably invite a riot, and maybe start the end of civilization.
Remember that oldschool Once Upon a Dream soundtrack from Sleeping beauty?
Dancing in the pink and blue clouds♥ Happily ever after
From my Patreon♥
in sickness
for @bucktommypositivityweek - predict the future
Buck is rooting through their sock drawer when he finds it.
He’s looking for a particular pair of socks: wool, blue and grey striped, soft and warm. They’re the ones that Tommy likes to wear when he’s sick, and right now he is sick. It’s nothing life-threatening, but Tommy is miserable. He hasn’t been able to breathe out of his nose for two days now, his nostrils have been rubbed raw by tissue after tissue, and he’s still shivering under three blankets.
When Buck shoves aside several identical pairs of white socks and sees the little box, he’s confused; almost a little panicked. This isn’t where he hid it. He could have sworn it was still in his locker at work. How did it get here? How did it get to the house, first of all, and how did it end up on Tommy’s side of their sock drawer? Oh god, did Tommy already see it? There goes the surprise.
And then Buck realizes that this is a different box than the one that houses the ring he bought for Tommy. It’s a different color, texture, and it’s from a different store. That means Tommy bought this. Tommy bought a ring. Tommy bought a ring.
Tommy wants to get married. Tommy wants to keep Buck forever. It’s not a surprise—they’ve talked about it, and Tommy has been more than clear that he’s in this relationship for the longhaul; more than clear that he’s deeply in love with Buck and their life together—but it makes Buck’s heart flutter just the same. Tommy is ready to make the commitment.
Buck must have been still and silent for too long, because Tommy raises his head from where he’d been buried under the covers and looks in Buck’s direction.
“Did you find them?” Tommy asks, his voice scratchy and stuffy.
There’s no point in pretending like he didn’t find the ring. This is all he’s going to be able to think about now, and he’s terrible at hiding his thoughts. Tommy would sniff it out in a moment, even this sick.
“Uh,” Buck says, a massive smile taking over his face. “I- I found something.” He holds up the little box.
Tommy looks confused for a moment and then his eyes go wide. “Oh. You weren’t supposed to- I had a plan.” His head hits the pillow with a groan.
Buck walks over to the bed, still smiling, and kneels on the floor by Tommy. “Oh, you had a plan, huh?”
“Yeah,” Tommy sighs. His frown is earnest and adorable. “Big romantic thing. Helicopter and a picnic at sunset. You were gonna love it.”
That does sound like something Buck would love. It’s thoughtful, sweet, intimate—fun. It’s so much better than anything Buck has been able to come up with. Buck has been making and scrapping plans for two months now because they weren’t perfect. Tommy’s plan was perfect.
Still, Buck can’t let Tommy think he was the only one ready for the next step. Who knows how long Tommy has had that ring. Has he been waiting for a sign that Buck was ready? He’s been so good about letting Buck set the pace of this relationship. This would have been the first step that Tommy asked Buck to take since their first kiss, first date. Buck wants Tommy to know he’s ready. They’re moving at the same pace, and Buck thinks that’s a beautiful thing. Well worth ruining the surprise over.
“And what if I told you I bought a ring too?” Buck bites his lip.
“Yeah?” Tommy asks, his face lighting up. He tries to sit up but Buck stops him with a hand on his chest, rubbing it back and forth soothingly.
“Yeah. But I hid it somewhere you wouldn’t find it. Not in one of our shared spaces,” Buck teases. “Babe, I wear your clothes all the time.”
Tommy’s eyebrows pull together stubbornly. “Never my socks, though. You hate my socks.”
Buck has never said that out loud but it’s true. He’s a little overwhelmed by the casual intimacy that knowledge betrays. Tommy knows him so well. Tommy pays attention to him so well, and he seems happy to. It’s all Buck has ever wanted. Finally, Buck has the kind of love he’s spent his entire life searching for. He’s never been more sure that Tommy is it for him.
“I do,” Buck says. He sounds utterly besotted even to his own ears. “Your socks are terrible. The toe seams are too thick.”
“I’ve never once noticed the toe seam,” Tommy laughs, equally as besotted. Like the way Buck sees the world is charming and beautiful to him instead of frustrating and in need of correction.
“I have a hard time believing that.” Buck hands Tommy the ring box. “I’ll put this back and wait for your big romantic proposal if you want. The answer will be the same.”
Before he can respond, Tommy sneezes. Buck hands him a fresh tissue from the box on the nightstand. Tommy takes it and looks at Buck consideringly. He smiles fondly and shakes his head.
“No need to wait. Honestly, I think this might be more romantic.” Tommy gestures with the tissue. “In sickness and in health, right?”
The wet sound of him blowing his nose makes it very clear which side of that dichotomy he’s on at the moment.
“That’s right,” Buck smiles.
Tommy smiles back. He’s glassy-eyed and red-nosed, his hair is wild, and his stubble is scruffier than he usually lets it get. Still, in this moment, he’s the most handsome man Buck has ever seen.
Tommy’s hands shake a little as he opens the box. The ring is beautiful: simple gold, wide and rounded, understated and elegant. Timeless. It’s perfect.
“Evan Buckley,” Tommy starts, voice scratchy and congested. He gives Buck a pained look and sighs. “I had a whole speech planned for this, but my brain is so fucking foggy right now I can’t remember it all.” They both laugh. “But I know why I love you, so I’ll start there. You’re kind, and brave, and smart. You keep me on my toes and you make me laugh. You make me feel safe. I don’t think I’ve ever felt held the way I do with your arms around me. You love with your whole heart, and I feel so lucky that someone as incredible as you chose me. You’re the best partner anyone could ask for. Every day with you is better than the last. There were so many times over the years when we almost met that it’s kind of insane we didn’t, but I’m glad it took us so long. You know I don’t really believe in this stuff most of the time, but I think we met when we did for a reason. We weren’t ready for each other before that hurricane. But I’m ready for you now, and I hope you’re ready for me, too. I love you more than I could ever hope to put into words. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Will you marry me?”
“Please,” Buck says breathlessly. Tommy’s laugh is filled with affection as Buck hurries to correct himself. “I- I mean of course, yes. Yes, I- I will marry you.”
The tears are coming now. Even through the brainfog that comes with a cold like this, Tommy was able to pull that off. If that wasn’t the rehearsed speech, Buck doesn’t think he would have survived the real one. It makes Buck’s general you flipped my life rightside-up and now I see the world in color and I’ll love you forever feel a little inadequate. He needs to organize his thoughts a little better before he can present them to Tommy.
“I- I have a speech too,” Buck assures him, “but it’s not ready yet.”
“That’s okay,” Tommy says easily. He’s looking at Buck with such naked adoration that it makes Buck’s heart soar. “Neither of us were expecting this today. Give it to me when you give me my ring.”
Buck nods and sniffles. “I will.”
Tommy reaches for him. “Can I have your hand, sweetheart?”
Buck gives Tommy his hand and Tommy slides the ring onto his finger. It fits perfectly. It looks like it’s always been there.
Illness be damned, Buck has to kiss him. They’re long past the point of caring about getting each other’s germs. Tommy’s lips are chapped from days of breathing through his mouth, he tastes stale, and his skin is hot and clammy. It’s one of the best kisses Buck has ever had.
They pull back when Tommy needs to breathe. Buck doesn’t go far. He runs a hand through Tommy’s hair and just admires him. Even like this, he’s gorgeous. Buck is so lucky. This is the person who looked at Buck and saw him for who he is—who looked at Buck and saw Evan. This is the person who has had a front-row seat to all of his flaws and insecurities and bad habits and found something to love about all of them. This is the person who doesn’t love him anyway but loves him because—who loves his jealousy because it makes him feel wanted, loves his clinginess because it makes him feel held, loves his tendency to speak without thinking because it’s honest. This is the person who never makes him feel insecure about wanting or needing anything; about who he is. This is the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with. His fiancé. His soon-to-be husband. His-
“Baby, can I please have my socks?” Tommy asks in a small voice.
“Oh!” Buck had gotten so sidetracked by the whole proposal thing that he forgot why he was looking through Tommy’s side of the sock drawer in the first place. Buck presses a quick kiss to Tommy’s forehead and jumps up. “Of course, I’m sorry.”
Buck goes back to their dresser. The wool socks are right on top. He doesn’t know how he missed them before. It feels like a sign, like he was supposed to find the ring first.
It feels like the universe saw how stressed he’s been about getting the proposal exactly perfect and decided this was the right way for them to get engaged. No big plans, no rehearsed speeches, no theatrics. Just love and care and the simple intimacy of this life they’ve made together: messy and raw and gross. It’s so imperfect that it’s kind of perfect. It’s them.
This is why none of Buck’s plans had felt right. He’d been so focused on making things perfect and exciting for Tommy that he’d lost sight of what really mattered. The strength of their relationship isn’t in the big, dramatic moments. Sure, they met during a hurricane, but they built their relationship in the quiet, imperfect, domestic moments as they learned how to take care of each other. Their relationship isn’t a fantasy: it’s reality. It works precisely because it’s imperfect and they both want it anyway—because they are imperfect and they both still want each other.
Buck puts the socks on Tommy’s feet for him, then he lays under the covers next to him. He pulls Tommy to snuggle into his chest. Tommy is still sniffly and clammy and, objectively, pretty disgusting. Buck pulls him closer.
Soon, Tommy drifts off. He snores in the loud, startling way he only does when he’s congested. Buck feels lucky to hear it. He runs his hand through Tommy’s hair and feels his ring catch on the strands. Happy, content, at ease; Buck settles in.
{give me kudos!}
steve and eddie in their new apartment they bought in the city far away from the hawkins drama
Dylan and Arden sitting back drinking wine, unscathed from this dumpster fire like:
soft sketchy make out mood
don’t judge the complete lack of detail or effort pls haha
