#ReGure

[damnwyverngems]

- おとぎ話は現実に -

By Regure

** Permission was granted by the artist to share this image.

[sunkillerlovechild]

the worm segment was actually the most exciting thing ever

i actually saw the worm, with my own eyes, on the surface PHENOMENAL

[just-a-girl-with-a-pistol]

I played a thing.....

[sotiriabellou]

overslept and missed my arabic lesson today even though i set like seven alarms...

[picory]

twitter has never been worse man. going into the comment section of a tweet and the top ppl commenting are ALL blue checkmarked idiots with dogshit opinions. when will this end

[lady-halibuts-chambers]

Things I remember about the movie "Pauli"

-The parrots going "Taco taco taco".

-Pauli gets convinced to rob a bank or something.

That's it end of summary

[navysealt4t]

thinking about how chip had never owned a single 'important' thing in his life. had nothing to his name. especially not legally. and he still gave ensa the house. this is like grimm's party all over again but with less stakes...

[a-reality-dream]

I never signed up for that much anticipation and stress😩

[this-is-not-a-slow-burn]

[damnwyverngems]

- 巨戟龍　ゴグマジオス -

By  Regure /  Regure33  

** Permission was granted by the artist to share this image.  

[angrygreengxrl]

For those who are young and/or about to live alone.

Things you should not put into microwave:

Metal

Plastic

Glass

Metal fork or spoon will f*ck up the microwave. You can watch videos on YT, people do it for entertainment.

Cheap plastic will melt when heated up (plate, fork, spoon).

Glass that was not meant for use in oven will break when heated up. Don't put glass into microwave, don't make tea in glass bc the cup might break and boiling water will splash on you and burn you.

[zakiyyah]

mordecai is gay

[sotiriabellou]

texting acquaintances on instagram

[filipfatalattractionrblog]

If you're only source of anything to humanzie the fascist is shitty fluff deemed so worthless it was used to gentrify webcomics and not put i nthe mainline, you're kinda proving my point.

full offense but this official ending screen art of samus is leagues hotter than all the hyper latex coconut tiddy zero suit fan art will ever be

[nickeverdeen]

Taken pt. 6 | Mom!Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader

Pairings: This part is mainly focused on Yelena x reader (unaware family), Natasha x reader (family)

Type of fic: Action, Light Angst

Warnings: Weapons, Fighting, Some Memory Control, Fake Death, Grieving

Parts -> 1 -> 2 -> 3 -> 4 -> 5 -> 7 -> 8 -> 9

Age: You are 23 years old and Yelena is 32 years old

Summary: When a mission goes wrong and you gain your memories back things go down the hill a bit more than expected and you and Yelena have to go on a run and make yourselves more blending into the regural crowd. Meanwhile Natasha who’s convinced of your death is grieving on your birthday.

———————————

The sharp crack of the sniper rifle echoed through the cold, empty air. You exhaled slowly, your breath visible in the chill, as you kept your scope trained on the mission target. The plan was simple: Yelena would handle close combat while you covered from above.

Through the scope, you watched as Yelena reached the target—a middle-aged woman holding a small satchel of glowing glass vials. The target fought desperately, but Yelena was relentless, her knife flashing in the dim light.

It was over in moments. The target collapsed to the ground, her hands trembling as she reached out for one of the vials. It slipped from her grasp, shattering against the concrete.

A fine, red mist escaped the shattered glass, and Yelena froze, her posture stiffening unnaturally before her knife clattered to the ground.

“Yelena,” you called over comms, your tone sharp. No response.

Frowning, you descended from your perch, your rifle slung over your shoulder. Yelena turned toward you, her expression flickering with something you didn’t recognize: fear.

“What’s going on?” you asked, keeping your gun at the ready.

She didn’t answer. Instead, she grabbed another vial from the satchel and hurled it at you.

“Yelena—!”

The vial shattered at your feet, and the same red mist enveloped you. You staggered, coughing, your vision blurring as dizziness overtook you.

And then the memories hit.

Like a flood breaking through a dam, faces, voices, and moments you hadn’t known you’d lost came rushing back. Natasha’s laugh. Her hand brushing your hair. The sound of her voice calling you kiddo.

Your knees buckled, and Yelena was there, catching you before you hit the ground.

“It’s okay,” she said softly, her voice steadier now. “You’re free. We both are.”

You looked up at her, tears streaming down your face. “Mum,” you whispered, the name like a prayer.

Yelena nodded. “She’s out there. But first…” She gestured to the tracking chips in your thighs. “We get rid of these.”

The process was brutal. With nothing but a knife and sheer determination, the two of you carved out the devices that had tethered you to the Red Room for so long. Blood stained the ground, but the pain was nothing compared to the freedom that followed.

Meanwhile, halfway across the world, Natasha sat alone at the small gravestone she had visited every year for the past seven years.

Your name was etched into the cold stone, accompanied by dates that carved a hole in her chest every time she looked at them.

“Happy birthday, kiddo,” she murmured, placing a small box beside the stone. Inside was a delicate bracelet she’d made herself, woven with red and black thread.

She sat in silence for a while, her fingers brushing the name on the stone as if you might somehow feel her touch.

“I miss you,” she whispered, her voice cracking. “I’ll never stop missing you.”

Eventually, she stood, wiping her eyes and leaving the gift behind. She turned back once, her heart aching, before walking away.

You and Yelena stumbled into a thrift store hours later, your mission suits bloodied and torn. The clerk shot you a wary glance, but Yelena ignored it, immediately rummaging through the racks.

As Yelena held up a green vest, her face lit up in a way you hadn’t seen before. “This,” she declared, inspecting the pockets. “It’s perfect. Look at all this space. You need this much room for things.”

You couldn’t help but smirk. “Practical.”

Your eyes wandered to a small display of accessories, landing on a pair of fingerless gloves and a faded, oversized sweater. It was absurdly impractical, but something about it called to you.

“You want it,” Yelena said, glancing over her shoulder.

“I don’t have any money,” you muttered.

Yelena waved a dismissive hand. “Don’t worry. I ‘borrowed’ some from a guy on the way here.”

She tossed the sweater and gloves at you. “You’re taking it.”

Dressed in your new clothes, the two of you made your way to a nearby dumpster, where you unceremoniously discarded your Black Widow uniforms.

Yelena grinned as she tossed her bloodied suit on top. “Good riddance.”

You hesitated for a moment before throwing yours in as well, watching it disappear among the trash.

It felt like shedding a second skin—one you no longer wanted.

As the two of you walked away, blending into the crowd, you couldn’t help but glance at the sky. For the first time in years, you felt a flicker of hope.