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#hat's words
writing-hat · 3 months
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4 AM midnight thoughts on polyninja's ways of kissing and holding each other!! in honor of valentine's day tomorrow (aka the biggest fucking note that was on my app jfc)
ways the ninjas kiss each other:
Kai
jay kisses Kai on the lips! a big smooch! mwah! electrifying
cole kisses the top of his head often, just to mess with his hair
zane kisses his cheeks, sometimes both, or his hand to see him become an absolute mess
Cole
jay kisses him on the cheek with an evil laugh
zane kisses him on the lips, with passion!
kai kisses him on the lips, the cheeks, the neck, the-
Jay
cole kisses him everywhere because he can and it tickles him!!
kai kisses the top of his head! then ruffles his hair
zane kisses his cheek, and and then lips, and then lips again and he ends with the nose!
Zane
cole kissing lips with passion too! and cheek, while holding him (idk why it seems important to add this here but well)
kai kisses the back of his hands in an attempt at flirting, and his cheeks, before going for the lips
jay kisses him on the cheek! lil shy and bold at the same time! then lips mwah!
idk why but zane = lip kisses for me. sue me.
ways they pick up each other:
Jay
zane picks up jay on his arm like like he's sitting on it but zane's very strong so he's like sitting on his arm like a gremlin/bird does this make sense idk
cole piggybackride / koala // or bridal style (looking at that one moment in island season (i think))
kai picks him up like he weights nothing/like a gremlin, but also let's him climb on his shoulders
Zane
jay picks up zane bridal style AHA! showing them muscles!
kai picks up zane by his hips, and then twirl!
cole holds him, before picking him up with a single hand to get him a bit flustered
Kai
jay picks kai up koala style! again, jay just loves to show his muscles to his partner
cole just holds him like he'd hold a precious egg, with kai's head on his shoulder, enjoying being pampered by him
zane would like. twirl him around as they both wear the most magnificent dresses ever. and then he'd hold him up by the back thighs/hips depending on the comfiest pose
Cole
KAI CARRIES HIM ON HIS BACK ZQGHJGZHJZHJRHZJ
jay loves to surprise hug him! and catches him like that! and then kicks the back of his knees to get cole leaning backwards
zane picks cole bridal style. do you see the picture
bonus of vampire cole's way of biting the others (because of course):
he bites kai's wrist. he bites jay's collarbone. he munches on zane's shoulders while kinda falling asleep because the metal feels good to his teeth or something, like baby tooth? idk
jhzgoizrhjkh melting away iam fine I AM FINE LET ME BE
happy pre-valentine
ALSO WE ALL HAVE OUR HEADCANONS AND ALL! SO YOU CAN COMPLETELY DISAGREE, in the reblogs as well!! I'd love to see people's thoughts uOu)
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lorelaiigilmore · 6 months
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WICKED | Behind the scenes with Kristin Chenoweth
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paperultra · 7 months
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aries and the turtle.
Pairing: OPLA!Vinsmoke Sanji x Fem!Reader Word Count: 1,169 words Warnings: None
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asterism (noun): a group of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars
The first thought that comes to Sanji’s mind when he sees you curled up on the kitchen floor, rummaging through the box of herbs and spices, is that you’re the single most beautiful creature he’s ever laid eyes on.
“Darling,” he says softly, leaning against the doorframe and smiling a bit when you startle, “you could’ve woken me up if you wanted a midnight snack.”
“O-Oh! Um.” Your voice colors the gentle calm of night into something warmer – and like always, he’s drawn to it like a moth to a flame, walking over and squatting down next to you as you scramble to put back a jar of paprika. “I’m sorry, Sanji, I – er, well, um …”
“What are you looking for? I’ll help you.”
Under the yellow glow of the lantern, you seem to shrink. You duck your head and mumble into the collar of your pretty nightshirt. “That chamomile and lavender tea you made a couple nights ago …” you begin hesitantly. “I wanted to make some.” Your voice quiets further. “I can’t sleep.”
Sanji frowns, angling his head to catch a glimpse of your face. You do look a little more haggard than normal, your eyelids heavy, your shoulders burdened. His heart aches. How long had you laid in your hammock, tossing and turning, until you couldn’t stand it anymore?
“I see,” he murmurs. “Let’s make that tea right away, then, shall we?”
Sanji quickly finds the flowers and some lemon rinds he had sun-dried last week. You insist on helping at least a little bit despite his protests for you to just relax, fetching two teacups and setting some water on the stove to boil as he measures the right amount of each ingredient to put into the infuser.
Once the water is ready, steam billowing up past your heads and to the ceiling, he pours it into the teapot and covers it to steep.
(You don’t say anything while the two of you wait, and although Sanji yearns to coax a smile and a sweet conversation from you, he contents himself with the silence as well, which is just as sweet. You sneak glances at him every once in a while, though. He knows because he does the same, and the attention sends a thrill through his chest.)
Time passes. He pours the tea – first for you, then for him.
“Tell me when.” The silence breaks once more as Sanji spoons some honey into your cup.
“That’s good.”
He stirs the tea up, hands it to you. You blow across the top of it and then take a sip as he watches attentively.
“How does the madam like it?” he asks.
You exhale and meet his eyes for a split second before quickly looking away. A small smile touches your lips. “It’s perfect,” you reply from behind the cup. “Thank you, Sanji.”
Warmth stains his cheeks a gentle pink.
“The sky is clear tonight,” he ventures hopefully as he adds two teaspoons of honey for himself. He picks up his cup and gestures at the open door. “Stars and tea pair well together, if you have an appetite for it.”
You bite your bottom lip. His gaze immediately darts down to it, and he swallows, throat suddenly dry.
“Sure,” you whisper.
And so Sanji gains another precious sliver of time with you. Elbows resting on the railing, hot tea and your presence protecting him from the cold, he stands out on the deck of the Going Merry and tilts his head back to look up at the sky.
He knows how much you love the stars. They are one of the few topics you can talk about without your usual shyness, and he thinks of you every time he sees them, pinpricks of pure light shining through the darkness, guiding weary sailors home. Sometimes he thinks you must have been one yourself, carried down from the heavens. Ethereal. Out of reach.
“This time of year,” you say, and Sanji turns his attention over to the stars reflected in your eyes, “you can see my constellation.”
“Yours?” he questions.
“Yes. Those three stars over there.” Your arm stretches out to point at something on the left, your finger tracing an arc in the sky. “In my home village, parents dedicate their newborns to a constellation three days after birth. Mine dedicated me to the turtle.”
A turtle. That fits you incredibly well, he thinks to himself fondly, considering your quiet tenacity. “How come?”
“Turtles represent good luck and a long life.”
“I see. Well, do you think you’ve had good luck so far in life?”
You hum thoughtfully, looking down into your tea.
“I think so,” you say after some time, hushed. “I’m here, aren’t I?”
A chuckle escapes him. “I would argue that you’re the one who’s brought good luck to us, sweetheart.”
You bite back a smile and whisper a small ‘oh’ as he gently bumps your shoulder with his own. Even now, you’re unused to compliments, but no matter; he’ll praise you at every turn until you finally realize you deserve every word of it.
There’s a brief period of silence before he asks, “What do you think my constellation would be?”
“Your constellation?” It doesn’t take long at all before you reply, pointing upward into a spread of stars that he could never even begin to puzzle out, “The ram. Some call it Aries.”
“What does it mean?”
This question seems to fluster you. You cough and stammer for a few seconds. He sips his tea, the beverage sweet and floral on his tongue as he waits.
“Rams … are artists at heart,” you finally say, glancing over at him. Your eyes, normally wary and somber, glitter. “They’re strong and passionate, but also gentle and kind.”
Oh.
Sanji can feel a blush creeping up his neck to his cheeks. God. Surely, you’ll be the death of him, saying something like that so honestly and with eyes that look like that. He’d move heaven and earth for you if you asked.
“I’ll dedicate my life to living up to those qualities,” he breathes once he can speak again. “Just as much as you’ll live up to yours.”
You take a sharp breath.
“You already do,” he hears you whisper.
And Sanji truly, truly cannot resist anymore.
Your name leaves his lips. He reaches out, hand departing from the dying heat of the teacup and seeking out yours.
You do not pull away when his fingertips brush your cool skin over the railing; instead, you let him turn your hand over until palm touches palm, until the spaces between his fingers are filled with your own and his heart beats to the rhythm of yours.
Sanji squeezes your hand, and every cell in his body begs to falter and fall at your feet.
You rest your head on his shoulder.
The tea cools. But the stars remain as brilliant as ever, and your hand stays warm in his, and everything – everything is beautiful.
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mycherrycola · 2 months
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Who was gonna tell me that drawing those goofy ahh pope hats would be such a pain
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5ummit · 1 year
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Important things I’ve learned about the new tumblr polls so far (which are NOT mentioned in the official announcement post):
Once you’ve voted you can’t change it and you can only vote once.
You can only view poll results on the dashboard or in blogview. The buttons are still displayed on custom blog layouts, but if you try to click on them it will automatically take you to blogview.
Responses are completely anonymous. Neither the poll creator nor the respondents can see who voted or what they voted for. The only visible metric is the total number of votes.
Votes don’t show up on your activity feed so you have to go find the poll on your blog if you want to see the results or know if people are even voting.
You can’t view the results of your own poll without participating (clicking on one of the answer choices yourself).
You can’t edit a poll post once you publish it, you can only delete it! I assume this lasts until the poll has timed out, which will either be in a week or a day depending on what you picked This is permanent, so you better hope you got all of your tags and answer choices correct before you publish! This also means you can’t change your poll duration later either.
UPDATE (Jan 22, 2023):
You can send individual polls to someone as a submission, which the recipient can then edit and customize before publishing, but this will NOT give that person the ability to create new polls on their own.
Polls have a maximum of 10 answer choices and each answer choice is limited to 80 characters.
Polls can’t be added to reblogs, only original posts. Additionally, only one poll is allowed per post.
You can add a poll to a previously published original post (that doesn’t have one already), but as soon as it’s published again all editing will be disabled. Also, the poll time limit starts from the original post date, so if you add a poll to a post older than your set time limit, the poll will automatically show up as completed with zero votes.
If you aren't sure if you have the ability to create polls, check this guide. As of right now, according to my current poll, only about 10-15% of users have this feature.
For more detailed info about polls and other currently known bugs and exploits, check out gotinterest’s polls masterpost.
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sirmanmister · 5 months
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MacCready not beating the generational trauma allegations 😔😔😔
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kiteou · 5 months
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He don’t know how to read
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peachyutdr · 5 months
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i finished it, was kicked out of the game, and then spent the next 10 minutes drawing this. i will now go take a shower, most likely cry, and then go through the emotional turmoil of convincing myself to reset so i can do a geno run. i hate it here :D
#undertale yellow#uty#my art#<- ifg#spoilers under these tags beware. although it is mostly just me being very very sad#that entire thing was heart wrenching. anyways#CEROBAS FIGHT??? HELLO???#i had to exit out of it the first time (i got to the last phase) to get better items but i came back and won pretty quickly#but THE CUTSCENES?!?!?#JFC NO WONDER THIS WOMANS SO MESSED UP. HER HUSBAND PRACTICALLY DIED IN HER ARMS AND THE LAST THING HE LEFT HER WITH- HIS DYING WISH- COULD#ONLY BE FULFILLED BY PUTTING THEIR ONLY CHILD IN DEATHS WAY. AND THEN WHEN SHE TOOK THAT RISK THE WORST THING HAPPENED AND SHE NOW HAS TO#LIVE WITH THE GUILT OF BEING THE ONE TO. MOST LIKELY. KILL HER ONE AND ONLY DAUGHTER#ALL THE WHILE SHE WAS PUSHING AWAY HER CHILDHOOD BEST FRIEND AND CONVINCING HERSELF THAT SHE WAS IN THE RIGHT TO SACRIFICE CLOVER WHO HAD#BEEN ONLY KIND MERCIFUL AND JUST THIS WHOLE TIME. EVEN TO THOSE WHO WERE TRYING TO KILL THEM. FUCK.#AAND WHEN CLOVER HUGGED HER I DOUBLED OVER IRL BC *THATS EXACTLY WHAT I WANTED TO DO IN THAT MOMENT* I HATE IT (read: love it) HERE#n dont even get me STARTED on after that. when clover started moving on their own and the gd white screen came up and we got flashbacks of#everyone's words. thats when the tears rlly started coming bc it clicked for me. 'oh. this is it. isn't it?' and IT WAS#WHEN THEY GAVE THEIR FUCKIGN HAT AND GUN AWAY TO MARTLET AND STARLO WELL THATS WHEN I REALLY STARTED CRYING#AAND THE GROUP HUGG#I WAS SOBBING WHENEVER I HAD TO WATCH THEM CRAWL UP AGAINST THE WALL AND DIE AND HAVE FLOWEYS WORDS PLAY OVERHEAD#AND THE FUCKOGN#THE F U C K I N G#AFTEWRCREDITS SCENE WHERE WE GOT THE 'You heard someone calling for help. You answered.' I GOT CHILLS SO BAD#to think that all the other souls have stories just as expansive and emotional as clover n frisks. how fucked up is that. in a good way tho#and finally the last scene where we got all 4 of our main friends sending us off in waterfall and we see clovers items end up in the dump#just waiting to be found by bratty and catty. fucken hell man this was a masterpiece#anyways time to reset and obliterate everyone and never emotionally recover from that ever!! really is feeling like 2016-17 again w the way#this game has me sobbing my eyes out and feeling the guilt of knowing that i dont HAVE to kill them all but im too curious not to#oh well. at least i have the balls to do it this time around instead of letting a youtuber do it for me ig
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ghostvibesonly · 1 year
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something something nate quietly quitting his high profile job because his line of work (rupert) wanted him to hurt the person he loves (jade) in the episode prior something something trent crimm quietly blowing up his life and getting himself fired from his high profile job because his line of work (journalism) wanted him to hurt the person he loves (ted) in the episode prior
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flowercrowngods · 6 months
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for prompt tag!
28. i'm just getting comfy (would love if this was established relationship/domestic fluff.. perhaps one of them is sick in this... idk)
but also take your time 🫡🫂
in which steve is sick but that won't stop soft boys hours
When Eddie hears the sound of fuzzy sock-clad feet dragging over the hardwood floor, accompanied by a sniffle or two, he drops the book he's reading onto his chest, exasperated by his restless boyfriend who refuses to stay in bed after Eddie tucked him in — again! Ready to give him A Look and tell him to get back to bed, because whatever it is he needs, Eddie can and will get it for him, Just go back to bed, Stevie. 
But whatever words were on the tip of his tongue even just a second ago have disappeared at seeing Steve – the same way that they always used to when they've only been dating for a few months. Instead of giving him anything remotely like A Look, Eddie grins, and instead of exasperated, all he feels is immeasurably fond. Endeared. Fucking enamoured. 
Because Steve, in all his pale, sniffly-nosed glory, is standing in the doorway to the living room, blinking against the sunlight streaming in through the windows, painting everything golden and bringing colour back to him, too. But it's not the way the light catches on his skin that makes Eddie fall in love all over again in what Robin would describe the most pathetic way possible, no. 
The thing that makes Eddie want to propose on the spot, in sickness and in health, is the fact that Steve is wearing Eddie's woollen hat. The one Joyce knitted for him with thick, soft, dark brown wool a few Christmases ago, with two distinctive bat ears sticking up.
God, where did Steve even unbury that? 
And what business does he have looking so absolutely fucking adorable wearing it?  His glasses are askew, the hair sticking out from beneath the hat is tousled and greasy, and the bags under his eyes are stark against his sickly pale skin that makes his nose shine red. 
Eddie is about to die with how much he loves him. It’s like a scream lodged in his throat that he cannot let out, an urge that grows evermore to let the whole world know, to not rest until the last person knew about his endless, endless, endless love for this angel of a man. 
In sickness and in health. It is there, residing in the back of his head, and he almost says it out loud — but Stevie would kill him if Eddie proposed to him because of a stupid woollen hat with bat ears (Sorry, Robbie). 
“Baby,” he breathes instead, miraculously keeping a hold of his heart in this wave of affection that overcame him so suddenly. “You good? Everything okay?” 
“Mhmm,” Steve hums, though it’s more of a growl with how rough his voice is. He wipes at his face, almost nudging his glasses off his nose, and Eddie can’t keep in the chuckle that bubbles out of him. 
He’s about to get up off the couch and wrap the angel with bat ears in his arms, just because he can, but then Steve is already approaching him, the blanket thrown around his shoulders dragging on the floor just as much as his feet. There is something so young about Steve when he’s sick, something so vulnerable and raw that makes Eddie want to latch onto him and never let go. Protect him from the evil germs and the headaches they bring. It’s dumb. Stupid, really. 
Eddie doesn’t even try to fight it as he sits up and holds out his arms for Steve to fall into. He brushes kiss after kiss to his overheated skin as Steve cuddles into him, burying his face in Eddie’s neck and his hands underneath his shirt. 
They hum in unison, finding a sound for serenity.
“That’s my hat,” Eddie says after a while, breathing in his sick angel and feeling him melt in his arms. 
“Our hat,” Steve mumbles into his skin. "My turn to be Batman."
Eddie laughs, wrapping his arms tighter around him, giving in to the urge to hold, the urge to never let go. “You’re ridiculous, d’you know that?” 
“I did know that,” Steve says, and he somehow manages so sound proud of that. 
“Good, just making sure,” Eddie remarks, hiding his own grin in Steve’s cheek, nosing along his temple and the edge of the hat. After a moment of silence that they spend just holding onto each other, he murmurs, “You need anything?”
Steve shakes his head, winding his arms tighter around Eddie’s shoulders and leans into him; it takes him a moment to catch up with Steve, but eventually he lets himself fall backwards so they’re lying flat on the couch. 
“What are you doing, hm?” he asks, reaching for the blanket that has pooled around Steve’s legs and pulls it up again, wrapping it around his shoulders properly again. 
“I’m just getting comfy,” Steve rumbles, slowly and sluggishly wiggling and twisting on top of him until he stills with a satisfied hum that sounds a lot like a smile. 
“Good?” 
Another hum, affirmative this time, as Steve buries his cold fingers underneath Eddie’s body. “You’re warm.” 
“And you have a fever.” 
“Hmm. Still.” 
It makes him grin again, makes him want to burst and scream and cry and laugh endlessly. 
“Ridiculous,” he says again, no louder than a whisper, and Steve turns his head to press a kiss to the centre of Eddie’s chest. It’s as much of a No, you as Eddie’s going to get, and he cherishes it with everything he has. 
“I like that,” Steve says, half asleep by the sound of it.
Eddie reaches for Steve's glasses and places them on the coffee table, and tucks the hat back over his ears. When no elaboration follows, asks, “You like what, angel?” 
“That. Your voice. Feels nice.” 
“Yeah?” 
“Mhmm.”
“Want me to read to you? I think you might like this book, actually.” 
Another hum, another kiss — to his heart this time. “I like everything about you.”
“That’s what I wanna hear,” Eddie laughs, reaching for the battered copy of Momo that’s been one of his favourites since Wayne brought it home on a rainy night in ’85 and Eddie stayed up all night devouring it. 
“At the edge of the city,” he starts reading the blurb, to give Steve an idea what this is about and let him decide if he wants to listen in or just feel the rumbling of Eddie’s voice in his chest, “in the ruins of an old amphitheatre, there lives a little homeless girl called Momo. Momo has a special talent which she uses to help all her friends who come to visit her. Then one day the sinister men in grey arrive and silently take over the city. Only Momo has the power to resist them, and with the help of Professor Hora and his strange tortoise, Cassiopeia, she travels beyond the boundaries of time to uncover their dark secrets.”
Steve doesn’t react, but Eddie can feel that he’s not quite asleep yet, so he opens the book and starts reading from the beginning that he almost knows by heart. Somewhere on page seven, Steve takes to playing with Eddie’s hair, carding slow fingers through the strands in the gentlest way that is almost enough to distract him. Switching the book from one hand to another as his arms get heavy from the position he’s holding the book, he always has one hand drawing idle patterns underneath the blanket, between Steve’s shoulder blades. 
It’s a slow afternoon as the sun sets on them, painting them in golden hues of orange and rose. Once he’s sure Steve is asleep and the living room too dark to keep reading, Eddie puts down the book and sneaks his arms under the blanket, wrapping them loosely around Steve’s shoulders to follow him into dreamland.  
hope this lives up to what you had in mind! 🫶
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writing-hat · 4 months
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honestly skylor should be the gordon ramsay of ninjago
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herewegobebe · 5 months
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KEY | ✈ Departure 231212 [x]
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poorly-drawn-mdzs · 8 days
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In Stars and Disco
(Disco side of the swap)
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celexdraw · 7 months
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Part 9 (Perhaps Zoro isn't always getting lost for no reason...)
Other parts: [1] [2] [3] [4] [5] [6] [7] [8]
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horseshoemybeloved · 6 months
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Btw fyi just wanted 2 let u know
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polestargios · 8 months
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HAYDEN ATE
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