#I DON'T KNOW WHERE THIS CAME FROM

[cinnamon-flame]

I had this need to draw the gang in random sweaters, so here they are.

[happybird16]

Imagine postwar Levi getting a tattoo in remembrance of his fallen comrades. After the world fell apart, he was left with only the clothes on his back. A new place. A new home. It's like he's been completely displaced, and yet the memories still haunt him. Hundreds -no- thousands of faces fill his dreams, some are happy, but often they're filled with blood. Friends, Family. All gone.

Theres nothing left of them, not really, other than the memories, the ghosts he often imagines hovering over his shoulder. All he has from.. from before is his old uniform, still torn and shredded from the final fight even a year later. He didn't have the energy to mend it, especially knowing that the fabric will eventually decay and fade. Time eventually rendering the wings of freedom faint, the dark blue becoming a tattered grey ish tone.

He likes the idea, once he thinks of it. A permanent memory of them -of all of them- in their honor. Tattoos weren't a thing on Paradis and the concept was startling at first, a needle etching ink into skin. He wants it, he eventually decides, yearns for it even, once the idea is fully formed into his brain.

He saves and saves, squirreling away any spare money he can for several months. Eventually, one balmy evening, he walks -more of a hobble really, his knee is worse and worse every day- a few short blocks from his tea shop. Cloak in hand, he enters the shop with hope in his heart for the first time since the end, imagining the ghosts pushing him forward, their hands splayed across his back.

Wings. The Wings of Freedom in bright blue and stark white, splayed across his back. Over scars, both new and old. A permanent reminder.

[theaceofarrows]

Jay: Hey, Cole, since your the only one out of all of us to go to a real school do you have any cool stories about it?

Kai: [to Cole] Yeah, anything's gotta be better than stories of homeschooling Nya

Nya: He's got a point. Let's hear it

Cole: Uhh, well this one time in middle school, during choir the music teacher accidentally turned on an Eminem song, and this one kid started perfectly rapping along to the song while his buddy beatboxed. The teacher was so stunned that we just listened to the two of them for the rest of the class

Jay: Whoa!

Zane: Very intriguing!

Cole: Oh, and I'm not the only one who went to school. Lloyd did too remember

Jay: [turns to Lloyd] Oh, yeah You got any fun stories, kid?

Lloyd: Ummm... well, one time some kid was about to get in a fight with another kid, and then that kid said "I got something for you bitch!" and then pulled out an entire pineapple out of his backpack and started beating the kid with it in the middle of the school hallway. The teachers gave extra credit to the pineapple kid for his "creativity in combat"

[stunned silence from everyone]

Lloyd: ...Yeah, Darkly's isn't exactly the best place to tell stories about...

Jay: ...

Cole: ...

Kai: ...

Jay: [awkwardly turns to Cole] Sooo~ Cole you got any other good ones?

[ghost-of-you]

[fandomfluffandfuck]

Do you ever think about how Steve's feelings of love could be deeply tied to and tangled around guilt?

The two emotions, love and guilt, go hand in hand in Steve's mind. Whether it's his love for Bucky and the guilt of holding him back from the life he could have had pre-war, getting any gal he'd like and moving on from Steve's sorry ass to have a home and kids and a dog--a good life--but instead, he's latched onto Steve for some reason. Or, his love for Bucky and his guilt for letting him fall into HYDRAs hands. (Not to even mention the wealth of guilt he feels for not searching for the love of his life when he should've--he should've known he could have survived the fall.) Or, whether it's his love for his mother, feeling bad, even though he knows it isn't his fault that he was born into the body he was and he can't control that his ailments may cause her so much anxiety and pain and costs her so much of her precious money to keep him living... he still feels guilty about it.

Steve's guilt in love lives on, as does he.

He meets new people in a new century, and he slowly learns to love them along with slowly developing guilt around them. For Natasha, it's guilt over not being able to express to her why he can't go on any of the dates she sets him up on. It's guilt of not trusting her sooner, not seeing her for who she is sooner. And, for Sam, it's guilt of dragging him back into a life of danger he successfully exited once already. It's for getting him into the goddamn emotional mess that is the life of an Avenger when he's already lost so much. Then, for them both, Steve often feels guilty that he can't spend more time with them as friends, that he can not put down work, and he can not always get out of his head and be vulnerable. He also feels guilt that they're helping him so much when he feels he has nothing to give. It keeps him up at night, gnawing at his heart.

Steve has such a big heart. He loves so much. He feels so much guilt. Both survivors guilt and guilt that began a lot, lot longer than before he was a soldier that he has no excuse for and has to wrestle with. Why do love and guilt become so tangled that sometimes he doesn't realize how much he loves someone until he feels bone crushing guilt around them? What is that?

[sillykitty9000]

She rumbled on my tumble till I game

[rush-the-stars]

perhaps getou + the evening OR megumi. whichever one you’re feeling more at the moment <3

VIC MY BELOVED!!! i am feeling more getou at the moment. so i will give you that awful man. i will even give you a taste of. *lpha g*tou..,..,..,.,.

getou + evening

cw: omegaverse dynamics. alpha!getou, omega!reader. mention of heats. hints of yandere

"i don't know–" you gasp, "i don't know what's wrong with me."

you wade through tall grass towards the lone, dark figure standing against a mottled and violet-bruised sky. the air is thick, so honeyed and sweet it is almost on your tongue. summer is high and ripe and overgrown. almost to rot. it's hot, suffocatingly so, as you try and take deep lungfuls of air.

"suguru," you call to him and he turns and you stumble right into his waiting arms. he was waiting for you. he knew you'd be here. how did he–? your head spins. "i feel–i feel strange."

you cling to the front of his clothes, looking up at him desperately, wildly–you've always looked to him for guidance, you realize. it's always been him.

"i'm scared." you get out, higher and softer, more earnest than you intended.

he touches your cheek, lays his palm against it, hot to the touch.

"there's nothing to fear." he says softly and his thumb touches your chin, creeps up to your bottom lip. he's looking at you strangely. your head feels like cotton, heady and thick. you're overheating.

"do you know?" you whimper, fingers twisting in the fabric of his shirt, "do you know what this is?"

he smiles faintly, almost amused. his thumb touches gently at your lip, pulls it down faintly. he looks–

his eyes are dark, perhaps...victorious. smug.

"of course," he hums and you feel his grip on you tighten, like he knows you might try to run, rabbit that you are, escape artist heart, and he has finally, finally laid the perfect trap. "of course i do."

you swallow, looking up at him desperately. the sinking sun is bloody halo behind his head.

"you're finally in heat, that's all."

give me a character + time of day (dawn, dusk, midnight, etc.) and i'll write a small blurb!!

[beautifulhigh]

I had a funny thought of Carlos using "I'm gonna sic TK on you" as a threat to someone when he's being frustrated/want something or just want someone to leave him alone and everyone knows that TK has an uncurable bitch syndrome and they don't want to be subjected to that expecially when it's about Carlos 🤣

Usually when it comes to wedding people try and upsell you, add in additional costs, try to push you for the bigger packages.

Those people had never come across TK Strand, Carlos mused.

They had sat down and planned out their budget, what they wanted, and started visiting a range of Austin venues with their requirements in hand. The first time someone started with the, "well you want your wedding day to be special" they had politely tried to redirect the conversation back to their wishes. The second attempt of, "this will reflect your love clearly" was a little more forecfully dealt with. The third attempt - Carlos had forgotten what was said because he knew what was coming - had released TK's inner bitch and Carlos had to admit he kinda liked watching it when it wasn't directed at him.

"It will be special" and "I think people know how much we love each other without needing it embroidered on napkins" and then something about their day and their plans and their wishes and many other options in a city this size so if they don't need or want the business then that's fine.

His favourite was the one time someone tried to suggest rainbow suits, or rainbow ties, or rainbow underwear? He wasn't paying attention, just waiting for the show to start.

("We like classic, we like simple, and we want to match because surely that is a symbol of us coming together and wanting to spend the rest of our lives together?")

Eventually it started to wear a little, and Carlos didn't want to get a reputation (even if they were starting it) and so on the first attempt the (new) caterer made about upselling he was very firm.

"Look, I know you want to try and upsell but let me be clear. This is what we want, we've told you where we're open to discussion, and trust me when I say you don't want to engage my fiancé's bitch mode on this."

TK had scoffed a little, then laughed and admitted it was true.

They got their menu, as requested, with some cute little flourishes on the mini desserts as the concession.

"Maybe I should reign it in a little," TK said as they got ready for bed that night. "I don't want to be a groomzilla, and I certainly don't want to be that kind of a dad."

"Why not?" Carlos challenged, biting back the smile that always seemed to try and force its way onto his face when TK brought up kids. Them having kids. Being a family. "It's not like you don't give people chances to back down."

"No, but--"

"And are you telling me that if someone came at our kid and tried to push them towards something they didn't want to do, you'd be so kind as to give them three chances?"

The look TK shot him from across the room made it clear: TK would burn down the city at the first hint of that.

"Sometimes you need to be a little bitch," Carlos said, "and you shouldn't apologise for that."

"Just... promise me you'll stop me from going too far?"

"What? And ruin my fun watching them realise the error of their ways?" Carlos laughed. "Not a chance."

[thirstnotes]

| Imagine Being Betrothed to Steve and Neither of You Wanting Anything to Do with It…At First (Royal Au) |

(Photos credited to Pinterest and the people who made them. Aesthetic arranged by me.)

“Is she...?” Steve asked, watching an absolutely stunning woman writing in the garden. You seemed to be very entertained by whatever you’d written, a lovely smile playing at your lips. Oh, the way you idly tickled your cleavage with that quill…

“Indeed. That would be your betrothed, Princess Y/N,” Bruce said, looking at bit amused at the spell you’d cast on the king without even knowing it. You looked up and a small frown melted onto your face as you rose to meet them. Steve bowed right away. You watched him, eyes running over his dark armor, not faltering a single bit when his eyes met yours as he straightened again.

Bruce cleared his throat. “Milady, I present his Majesty-"

“You’ll have wasted your time,” you said, your eyes rolling from him to Bruce, who looked horrified as you stepped between the both of them. Their eyes followed you, but when you whipped to face them, you only noted Steve's briefly lingering a bit lower than appropriate.

"Apologies that you've taken such a long trip, your highness, but I still refuse to acknowledge this betrothal."

You couldn't lie. He was a handsome devil; tall, with broad shoulders, a defiant smirk that irked you in just the right way and a dangerous reputation that made your insides purr. But none of that changed the fact that you knew nothing about him.

"As do I, Milady" he agreed, feeling a tug of relief and disappointment at the same time, "But I have never been calloused enough to relay such a message through a letter."

"I assure you, my heart would have remained intact, Milord," you saucily volleyed back, “As it shall well after your departure.”

"Of that, I am certain," he said simply, with a polite bow. You watched him leave, your eyes narrowing with suspicion.

[kay-elle-cee]

I got this idea like 5 minutes ago and have been living in Saturday Night's Alright-land for so long, I'm letting myself choose joy.

7th-Year September 1st drabble below the cut.

James hastily waved off his parents with all the sincerity he could muster before he and Sirius started weaving their way through the start-of-term crowd on Platform 9 3/4 for the last time. To Fleamont and Euphemia, this was a momentous turning point, deserving some sort of emotional farewell or well-wishing, but to James it was simply an item on a checklist.

Arrive at platform: Check.

Still, he would've been more sympathetic to his parents' attentions had someone not delayed their arrival by oversleeping.

"Oi, slow down, Prongs. Christ!"

Sirius trailed behind him, navigating the crowds with more care than the other boy, who was charging through the crowd with a fervor that Sirius was all too familiar with by now.

James' eyes flitted rapidly from face to face as he made his way across the platform, searching for those brilliant eyes and the shock of red hair that he hadn't seen in much too long.

This summer had been one for the books, as far as James Potter was concerned, anyway. The freedom of being of-age with none of the responsibilities of school had meant a virtually unlimited choice of ways to entertain themselves this summer. Most evenings saw the soon-to-be 7th year Gryffindors—along with some other classmates—convalescing somewhere or other in Diagon Alley, finding little-known hidden gems of pubs or clubs, cooling themselves off with ice cream at Florean Fortescue's, or just causing general summertime mischief.

It was wonderful to feel so bonded with the others in their house going into their final year, and it had the added bonus of finally sparking that something between he and Lily Evans.

It was nothing serious—not yet. Just little stolen moments throughout the summer: a lingering glance across the table, inconspicuous hand-holding when they found themselves in the back of the group, the occasional goodnight kiss when one of them needed to side-along Apparate the other home. Little stolen moments that had been driving James mad these last few weeks Lily was visiting family and unable to join the end-of-summer hurrahs.

They had been writing each other, however, in her absence. She'd written him excitedly about her appointment as Head Girl, which was completely unsurprising to him as there was no better candidate (and he told her so). He had written back, nervously, and relayed how—incredibly—he'd been named Head Boy, only to be unexpectedly showered with congratulations and 'of course, it's unorthodox, but it makes sense'. They'd exchanged letters about the things they'd miss once Hogwarts was over, their lists of must-do's this year to fully glean the most out of their final year. They'd exchanged 'I miss you's and 'I wish you were here's and 'I can't wait to see you's.

Nearing the other side of the crowded platform, his eyes spotted that specific shade of red that had made this summer so superior to the others. His eyes zeroed in on Lily Evans, hair pulled back, Head Girl badge proudly displayed on her robes as she helped direct what he could only guess was a First Year into the train. His feet halted any forward-movement as his breath left his lungs.

'I can't wait to see you. I miss you.'

Locate Lily Evans: Check.

James moved forward with renewed vigor, her eyes finding his as the First Year loaded onto the train. A smile broke out on her face as he drew near, and gods how he wished he was able to get here earlier just so he could take in her expression that much sooner.

"Hey, you," she called lightly as he neared, looking up at him. "Big day for us, eh?"

Now face-to-face with her for the first time in weeks, after thinking only of her for the entirety of the time since she last left his sight, words escape him. Instead, he smiled down at her, at the anticipation in her eyes and felt sure in a way he hadn't felt with her in a long time, and bent down to capture her lips with his own, hand cupping her cheek.

She leaned into his touch instantly, responding to his kiss with an enthusiasm that caused James' pulse to pound in his ears, drowning out the sounds of the platform around them.

Kiss Lily Evans: Check.

James felt Lily's lips pull into another grin, and he took this as his cue to step back, breaking the kiss and grinning down at her, knowing that the excited glint in her eyes matched his own.

"Well, I meant leading the Prefects' meeting, but glad to know where your head's at," she quipped, unable to wipe the smile from her face.

James shrugged, hand flying to his hair with residual nerves. "Sorry, I was just...excited to see you."

Lily stepped forward, reaching up and pulling his hand down from his hair and lacing her fingers in his. Her eyes lingered on the sight of their entwined fingers as a blush painted her cheeks. "I'm excited to see you, too." Her eyes flickered back up to meet his, eyebrow quirking as she tugged him forward towards the train. "Well come on then. We have a meeting to run."

James followed her, gladly, as they loaded onto the train, feeling a little lighter in his step.

Be with Lily Evans: Check.

[starry-eyed-baby]

Hi, love. How's my pretty boy today?

Hmm, you want to be inside me? Well how can I say no when you beg so sweetly like that?

Here, come lie down for me. How about I take you inside and play with my favorite toy? Would you like that? You're so adorable, you know I'd do anything for you, right? Just let me- ohhh baby, you feel so good. You still stretch me every time. No no, no touching now. Just lie back and relax.

I'm turning my toy on now. Can you feel it vibrating? Fuck, that's hot. I wish you could see your face right now. So needy. Uh-uh, no moving either. You have to stay still. I'm being generous enough by warming you, aren't I? Good boy.

You look so pretty and pathetic right now, I almost wish I was sitting on your face instead. Ha ha, don't get your hopes up too high baby, you feel too good inside me right now. Fuck, I won't last much longer. I know you can feel it every time my toy hits just the right spot - every twitch and clench around you.

You're so deep inside, I love it. Getting squirmy? I know, I'm close. Feel me getting tighter? Oh god, it's coming, are you ready? Stay still baby, just like that. You're so good. Fuck, fuck. I'm coming baby, you feel too good. You're so good for me. Can't stop coming, I love how you fill me up. Love that pathetic fucking look in your eyes. So, so good.

Fuck honey, this was such a good idea, we might have to do this more often. You know I love you, right? You're so amazing. Such a good boy. Let me get something to clean us up now, okay?

What's that? You didn't come? Aww, I'm sorry sweetheart, that's not what you asked for.

Maybe next time.

[theaceofarrows]

Me: [to the tune of All About That Bass]

🎶Because you know I'm all about that aro, 'bout that aro, no romo.

I'm all about that aro, 'bout that aro, no romo.

I'm all about that ace, 'bout that ace, no attraction🎶

[zerolostwalks]

Alex winced even before the discordant chords from Luke and Reggie’s fumbling echoed through the studio. He exchanged a knowing, apprehensive look with Flynn before they each turned their attention back to the others. 

“What?” Luke exhaled, sad eyes darting between Julie on the couch and Reggie, who mirrored Luke.

Julie didn’t seem to notice, eyes glued to the piece of paper in her lap, “I know right? I thought getting a secret admirer note in your locker was something that only happened in the movies.”

“What’s it say?” Reggie asked maybe a little too happily. 

Julie quickly brought the paper to her chest, sending a teasing look towards himself, Luke and Reggie. It was an awfully similar look to the time she’d stolen Luke’s songbook from him. “I don’t know if I should tell you.” 

Alex fought his grimace since Julie was still looking in his general direction. Though he’s not sure how well Luke and Reggie fared since their backs were to him. They really need to stop having these kinds of discussions midway through practice and jam sessions.

“Oh come on,” Flynn moved closer to Julie, lightly shoving at the other girl’s knee. 

Julie rolled her eyes, folding the paper before sliding it into her back pocket. “Fine, I won’t tell you all of it, but they want to meet.”

“What?” Alex and Flynn’s voices joined Luke and Reggie this time. Though he’s sure it was all for entirely different reasons. 

How on earth did an anonymous secret admirer plan to meet? That didn’t sound safe in the least. He was going to need to get more details, and then he was going to have to make sure Julie was not going to meet some stranger alone. 

“Did they say where?” Alex’s thoughts escaped his mouth of their own volition. 

Julie nodded, biting back her smile. Alex wasn’t sure whether or not he was pleased to see an uncertain edge to her smile as she continued, “he wants to meet up at the school dance that’s coming up.”

Well that helped ease Alex’s nerves a bit. Seeing Reggie and Luke’s shoulder noticeably sink lower on the hand. 

Flynn grimaced as she looked back towards Alex before she asked what was certainly on a certain duo’s mind. “Are you going to?”

“I’m,” Julie began, chewing on her lower lip and leaning back into the couch. Then he saw it. right when both Reggie and Luke finally averted their gazes, Julie briefly looked at them with a sad echo of a smile.  “I’m honestly not sure.”

This time Alex didn’t even bother to glance at Flynn, if he did he would certainly be unable to keep his mouth shut. Instead he dug his phone out of his pocket and opened the group chat with her and Willie. Once again asking how long they were going to let these three dance around each other.

Because at this rate they were all going to end up with their hearts broken.

[sophieswundergarten]

My take on the Mysterious Benedict Society and trees, because apparently I have nothing better to do:

Reynie - Oak

Sticky - Japanese maple

Kate - Buckeye

Constance - Sandbox tree

(Adults + Others under the cut for fun)

Mr. Benedict - Jacaranda

Number Two - Aspen

Rhonda - Crabapple

Milligan - Willow

Miss Perumal - Mulberry

Curtain - Dogwood

Dr. Garrison - Mangrove

S. Q. - Redwood

Martina - Magnolia

Jackson - Cedar

Jillson - Juniper

Jeffers - Joshua tree

[soyalexnajera]

I have to warn you guys about some heavy spoilers, like 5 screenshots of Thanks to Them are floating around

PLEASE DON'T SHARE THEM HERE

MY GOD WE'RE NOT FUCKING READY FOR THAT 😭😭

This post will make sense next Saturday btw 💜

Damn, I think it's actually worst

People are saying the whole episode leaked, I don't believe it (hope it's not true)

Fuck what the hell fr

[nurfhurdur]

"Does it ever....I dunno....bother you?"

Lightning wasn't sure how to phrase the question correctly. How to put those kinds of feelings into words.

With his shoulder leaning into the rail of the porch, which he'd replaced several years ago with that composite material they'd created to look like wood, Smokey looked away from the sheets of rain that threatened to flood the driveway. "Does what bother me?"

"Well.....that-....you're all that's left-"

What a stupid question, Lightning thought upon speaking. Of course he would be upset, he was the only one left of a family of five. He had been the only one left for decades, or so he had thought until recently. And then that hadn't lasted very long anyway...

Henry- Smokey, because that's who he was to this kid, eyed him quietly a moment. The Georgia heat was different than out west, despite the rain dropping the temperature. McQueen's hair curled a bit in the humidity and stuck to his forehead and neck. A breeze blew warm mist under the porch, just enough to make everything feel a little sticky and uncomfortable to the Piston driver, but to someone who had lived there their entire life, it was refreshing after a day of earth baking sun.

To see the kid sitting there watching him patiently, blue eyes curious, if somewhat hesitant, in expectation of a reply.

For just a moment it was almost as if-....

What was he supposed to say? He couldn't unload years of heartache and resentment on this kid. Who in the public eye refused to hear anything negative of his late mentor.

He couldn't say that all he had were some black and white photos, hanging in a room that hadn't been used since 1953. Some of them reprinted and gifted to him for Christmas one year from his daughter. The originals so brittle and turned yellow over time they'd been carefully stowed away in a heavy album. Letters tacked to the cork board in his garage, relating pride in the kid that now sat on the porch with him.

Nothing ever put to paper about how their lives had been ripped apart when they were still just kids and too young to face the world alone.

Nothing on paper about Ruth.

Nothing about the fact that Doc- Jesse, was dying.

It didn't matter that those things had been said in private conversations over the phone. Saying it wasn't the same as writing it. At least on paper it was wholy acknowledged. Final.

He'd lashed out at his younger brother, only once, over the situation. That Jesse was still running, unwilling to face the fact that he'd royally screwed things up with the one person left that should have been in that ever shrinking circle of those that matter most.

And he'd carried the weight for years, the weight of getting through both their parents burials, burying Ruth and then assuming Jesse dead two years later.

He hadn't even gotten anything from him.

And maybe that was selfish, to expect something to be willed to him, but he'd given just about everything he had and it hadn't been good enough. Jesse had left and never looked back.

And then when he thought he had him back, Jesse had died and never looked back.

The Hornet sat in Arizona. Maybe it was presumptuous to assume he had any right to it. The kid beside him deserved it too, but even just to drive it....to maybe have a link to a small portion of his life for just a moment...

Not even his brother's degree, that sat behind glass in a racing museum he'd never see. Just around the corner from the car he would never see again, he had no interest in traveling that far.

Hurts he'd kept buried lay right there, waiting to be said, wanting to be said. He pushed the bitter feeling back where it had resided for years. Only one person had ever heard the full pain of his heart.

Well.... unless you counted headstones....

He shifted, pulled off his ball cap and brushed his forearm across his brow before putting it back on and looked back out toward the driveway.

"Yeah. 'Course it does."