#GONNA CHEW THROUGH DRYWALL

[thatsashitplan]

what if Loki WAS the one who brought Mobius to the TVA and also wiped his memory, making him forget they ever met in the first place?

[introspectivememories]

sorry but do you ever think about the fact that the bernard we have today is a direct amalgamation of everything that happened in his past and i know that sound like such an obvious statement to say but it actually kills me to know that you can draw a direct line from who he is today all the way back to that sixteen year old boy who watched his best friend bleed out. like it is the defining moment in his life. it fundamentally shaped who he is and the person he's become. he is the bernard we know and love not despite the grieves shooting but because of it. because the gangs all got together and shot up his school. because tim walked out of that room with nothing but a baseball bat. because his darla got shot. because he watched her gasp and cry as she died. because he watched the blood coagulate around the wound. because he sat there and held her hand as her life drained out of her. because he walked into school that day with a joke he knew would make her laugh and her nose would scrunch up and she'd snort a little and tim would roll his eyes at him and call him ridiculous and instead he walked out with a bloody white shirt, blood under his fingernails, and two friends less. because, even now, almost half a decade out from the shooting, he thinks that if he closes his eyes, he will always be that stupid, scared little sixteen year old, holding the cooling body of dead best friend.

[crocs-simp]

Literally married

[izvmimi]

ASTAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA

[knightwhoisni]

well that was fun. time to play the demo a million times more!

[thus-spoke-lo]

oh my fucking god. sleazy slimeball stepdad/dad zoro. gray trackpants and oil-stained clothes. rough nasty stubble he loves giving you burns on your thighs with. nice layer of fat over his thick muscles. forcing your hips to grind against his thigh while he watches with a beer in hand. okay bye. 🙂‍↕️

😭 Smells like sweat and steel and cheap cologne. Slaps your ass when he hustles you off to go grab him another beer, probably calls you “kid” just because it makes your skin crawl a little as he guides you to your knees to keep your smart mouth busy while he watches the game.

[rosenfey]

🍂🕯️ you ever just listen to a song and know that you won't ever be the same person again because that's what drumming song by florence is doing to me 🕯️🍂

[peach-coloured-glasses]

SOBBING CRYING THROWING UP OVER MAGP 22 OHMY GO D

[leieryx]

Im never gonna be normal about this i fucking knew it

[lesbianuravity]

breaks down your door

WEISS’ GIVING HER WHOLE HEART TO YANG WITHOUT REALISING IT BUT KNOWING SHE WOULDN’T BREAK IT

‘yang would never lie to us!’ / ‘i know we’re not as close, but i’m here for you, too.’

YANG’S TRUST IN WEISS THAT SHE’S NEVER BROKEN BECAUSE WEISS HAS ALWAYS BEEN BY YANG’S SIDE WHEN SHE NEEDED SOMEONE THE MOST TO THE POINT SHE WAS THE FIRST ONE YANG FOUND AFTER THEY WERE SEPARATED ‘i missed you so much.’  (i missed you, too.)’ (’yang, are you okay?’) ‘it’s okay if you’re not okay.’

[bakuzen-xiv]

FFxivWrite2024 (Day 7): Morsel

Orion turned the corner towards the Ebony Stalls, avoiding any possible glances of nearby people by hiding behind his cloak. One hand slipped into his pocket to wrap around a piece of paper—a lengthy shopping list for all the delicacies he'd been craving.

It had been a long time since he'd found himself in Gridania, so he decided to jump on the opportunity to stock up on some local delicacies. Bland delicacies, some would argue. Others would leave out the second word entirely. But it was comfort food to him, and he knew how to prepare it in a way that was less offensive to the average palate.

More or less, anyway. Some Scions still weren't sold on his favorite fermented beans from the local Mun-Tuy Cellars.

His mind wandered to the subterranean network beyond the Cellars, down to the underground city that had gone largely lost to history. The city of Gelmorra. The underground city was hidden far underground, its infrastructure turned to ruins by centuries of merciless decay. And despite it all, it still connected to the living world through these cellars that had survived the test of time.

It was a connection he cherished, small as it was. Being a Duskwight, he was certain he shared an origin with Gelmorra's inhabitants from centuries past. It was all he knew about his origins—more he knew about his mother or father or even his place of birth.

There as a void where he yearned to see faces and names and memories, so if bland beans was the closest he could get to knowing his bloodline, he would take it.

Orion pulled his mask up and his hood down. Shrouded in dark garments, it was hard to make out any of his defining features. He wouldn’t be able to fool those who truly knew him. His gait, the way he swung his hands, the angle of his ears poking against the fabric of the cloak hiding him from head to toe–they were all undeniably him. But the people here did not know him as his friends did, so he weaved his way through the crowd with ease.

On a quiet day, he would be happy to visit the market as himself. He enjoyed talking to people, and their enthusiasm for his heroism was mostly tolerable. But today was not a quiet day, and he would not let himself be delayed by a gathering crowd.

Eyes still followed him, as was expected in such a get-up. Some vendors tracked his movement with a guarded tension, hands resting on their wares. It was a nauseating reminder of what could’ve been had Hydaelyn not chosen him. He’d be just another Duskwight, unable to enjoy Gridania’s atmosphere without the accusing glares of other locals.

It wasn’t a worrying fear anymore, not here and not now at least. If their suspicion of him ever escalated, he could always throw off his cloak and surprise them with the familiar face of the Hero of Eorzea, Savior of the Star.

Their eyes would widen in surprise right away. They’d apologise for their embarrassing conduct. Perhaps a few of them would not recognize him or his name, and someone would whisper to them that he may be a Duskwight, but he was one of the good ones.

The Hero of Eorzea, Savior of the Star would however stay anonymous, for the sake of his peace, and he turned his attention to the food stall in front of him. He nodded a quick greeting to the vendor before glancing around at the various Mun-Tuy products showcased on its shelves. That’s what he came all this way for, he thought, his mouth watering while he imagined all the dishes he could make with them.

“—Orion?”

He nearly whipped his head around, but instead he forced himself to make strong eye contact with a jar of beans.

“Oh, go on! I could do with a morsel of gossip–you’ve got to spill the beans for me!” 

“I swear, ran straight into him at the Bobbing Cork! He couldn’t resist me, not after I showed him my secret technique he couldn’t–”

Orion’s eyes widened. The last time he visited that inn was to help the damn Ixal build dirigibles, and that certainly didn’t include any lady’s secret techniques.

He realized with a start that the shopkeeper was staring right at him, from an angle that showed a bit more of his face than he was comfortable with. He glanced back, hoping it would be less suspicious than appearing to be shocked at the sight of Mun-Tuy products, but this only attracted more of his interest.

“Hey,” the man began carefully, yet a little too loudly for Orion’s comfort. “Aren’t you…”

Orion coughed loudly, more occupied with protecting his identity than his pride right now.

“I’ll take these beans!” he yelled, before the vendor could say anything else. With a loud slam, he shoved enough gil on the wooden table to keep the man from continuing his train of thought.

“Would you like–”

“Thank you!” He grabbed the beans and bolted.

That was yet another part of being a hero he still hadn’t gotten used to. Perhaps it would still take a while before he could return to those peaceful days he longed for.

[alaraxia]

Lotta art frustration for me is knowing I need to practice anatomy and quicker, low-impact sketching more, but I physically can't because I need to be allocating a ton of recovery and rest time to keep injuries manageable.

Consistent struggle of balancing wanting to draw to improve vs having to do what feels like re-learning and warming back up constantly when skills rust due to the prolonged rest.

[kameonerd566]

I'm literally going INSANE- its both at the same time!!! They are Ineffable!!!!

[emmyrosee]

His phone rings once, and Kiyoomi smirks down at it.

You’re calling him, of course you are, why would you not be, and he sighs and excused himself before slipping out to the front of the building and answering the phone.

“This better be good.”

“Im crawling in your walls.”

He lets out a laugh and scrubs his face with his hand, “you miss me that much? I’ve only been gone for a few hours.” You whine on your end of the line, and he chews the tip of his thumb to stop himself from laughing.

“Kiyoomi,” you whine. “I didn’t give you enough kisses this morning. I’m feeling deprived.”

He cocks a brow, “babe, you gave me a thousand kisses before I left-“

“No, I gave you forty seven. I should’ve given you forty eight. Or a thousand.”

This, has him laughing. Laughing because never in a trillion years would he expect to let such ferality be allowed. What would 16 year old Kiyoomi think if he heard some person say “I’m in your walls because I didn’t kiss you enough”?

He wouldn’t believe him. He wouldn’t think someone would care enough about him to go through such lengths to be part of his life, a part of him, and he poked his tongue in his cheek and shakes his head.

“You can kiss me more when I get home.”

“I don’t want to wait that long.”

“I’ll kiss you back?”

This, has you stopping, and he raises his brows as he waits for a response. “You promise?”

“Of course I do,” he snorts. “When have I never not wanted to kiss you?”

“True.” You go quiet again, “I miss you.”

“I miss you too, baby. I’ll be home soon.”

“…okay,” you finally sigh. “I’m gonna eat your drywall.”

He snorts again, “go for it.”

[star2fishmeg]

not the fupa tat😭😭

but what if drunk luke loves ur bikini tat so much he’s like im gonna get your initial tattooed as well in the same spot we can be matching

don't judge me i just wanna be hot girl too😭 he just makes me feral on so many levels. if i saw him on my uni campus and he wasn't a hockey player, i would be as equally feral

i'm going to combust at that thought. speechless. chewing drywall. or your birthday on his so that you both have matching numbers like for example (we'll use mine), 43 and 23 bc like BARK BARK BARK

he's stumbling through his bedroom door, dragging you with him with a dopey smile spread across his lips. the one when he's done something you're not aware of yet. he's not as drunk as he says he is. far from it, he just needed an excuse to get you alone.

"got somethin' to show you, babe." he's giggling like a little kid, guiding you to the end of his bed. you sit cautiously, wondering what on god's earth he has done now until he's shuffling his shorts down his hips, your eyes widening, more in surprise than anything else.

"lu, what are you doing?" your question falls on deaf ears as he's hiking one side of his boxers up, revealing your birthday inked on his bikini line, exactly where his number settles on yours. it's fresh, he's had it over a week and kept it quiet until now. he knows no one will see it, but he wants to be cute and have a wild story to tell the guys out of the blue.

"now we match." that stupid, stupid smirk of his. your fingers delicately trace over the number, his player number next to your pussy and your birthday next to his cock. lips softly meeting the numbers on his skin, careful not to make it sore and he's truly enamoured by the sight of your face in his crotch. you glide your hands to his hips, thumbs rubbing over his hipbones before hooking in his waistband, tugging his underwear down his thighs and peering up through your eyelashes with a sultry glint in your eye. you understand how he felt, that rush of filthy excitement, that's your number. it has meaning, he thought of you and wanted match, embed you onto him for life.

"are the others home, lu?" you mutter, taking his cock into your hand and giving him a couple of strokes. he throws his head back, adam's apple bobbing when he gulps down a groan. he makes a feeble attempt at a nod, "try 'n stay quiet for me, okay? as much as i love getting off to your little noises, they're just for my ears."

[poguniversity]

he;s so fucking pretty i'm gonna chew through drywall