#SOMEONE TELL ME PLEASE

[dible-png]

GOOD GRIEF HES NAKED‼️‼️‼️

This has been on my mind since that throwaway bit abt vex being built like a barbie in like ep 11(?) I only got a shit post cause my wrist is hurtin like craaazy

[clear-chaos-collection]

what the FUCK did Jack Black do

[everylevishot]

Anime Levi #1023

Episode 45 - オルブド区外壁 (Outside the Walls of Orvud District)

[fizzyrodeo]

i've been out of the fandom for several weeks, what the hell is going on with stolitz right now 😭

[wikitpowers]

“He saw Ty and Kit standing a little apart from the others; Ty had his head tipped back, as he often did, and was pointing at the stars.”

[moyashidoodles]

Working on a thing. I want to do a Shadowheart origin run but I can’t decide if I want to romance Karlach or Lae’zel.

[lewishamiltonstuff]

What did Lewis wear today??? Why can't I find any outfit pics???

[loveroped]

Small Scar/Impulse thing I wrote for demon au @stiffyck and I go insane about

All fluff!

Short drabble, around 500-600 words

"I like your tail and the way it forms a heart—" But his statement was cut off by Scar looking up, blinking in something akin to confusion.

"Wait wait—a heart?"

"—I like you, and I like how soft your hair is—" He smiled, running his hand through Scar’s hair.

"—And I like your horns, and I love your smile—" He continued on, pretty much bathing in the joy complimenting Scar gave him.

Scar groaned, covering his face with his hands, glowing a dark grey all around. His tail swished side to side behind him and Impulse found himself staring at it. He found himself staring at Scar too.

"And I like—" "Oh jeez, Impulse please shut up," Scar groaned into his hands, no true malice behind his words. Impulse laughed.

"But I'm not done yet tho!" He called out, receiving a whine in reply as Scar leaned over to hide his face in Impulse's shoulder.

The moon was high and the air smelled of pink. Flowers blooming and the world sleeping with a tint of laughter.

And Impulse wondered if Scar was truly glowing, or that he could simply not focus on anything else. Scar shined in ways Impulse didn't have words to describe. His chest felt warm and he couldn't help the slight tint of adoration.

So he took a breath in. He'd be as annoying as he could be.

"I like your tail and the way it forms a heart—" But his statement was cut off by Scar looking up, blinking in something akin to confusion.

"Wait wait—a heart?" He asks, suprise and confusion clear as day. And Impulse took note of the way his face had turned a dark shade of grey-ish red and the way it made his eyes stand out even more.

So Impulse smiled. "Yeah! Your tails form into a heart!" He chuckled.

He felt like he was bathing in a sunrise that he hadn't seen before. His chest felt warm and his cheeks hurt from smiling.

The room kept tasting of a soft pink and morning glow. They stayed up for too long.

Impulse found himself looking up to the sky and letting his thoughts run into words.

"At first I thought it was a random thing—but then I noticed you do it the most when you're around me." He rambled, face flushing the slightest bit.

And I think it's cute, was a sentence he didn't say just yet.

He looked over at Scar, who now held his own tail infront of him, staring. He looked focused, and so much more that Impulse didn't have the words for. But it was a sight he wished he could've looked at for hours and much more.

Scar took a breath. "I didn't know I could do that." He gasped out with wide eyes. "I never noticed."

And Impulse felt his face soften in ways it always would when he was near Scar. Adoration, is a word he would use.

The air smelled of pink and morning breeze. And Impulse was tired in the most pleasant ways.

His tail reached over and wrapped around Scar’s, just under the heart. Just enough to get Scar to look up at him.

"I like you," He smiled. I love you, he didn't say, and he's not sure he ever would.

He adored Scar in ways that wouldn't have fit the human definition of love. Human concept did not always fit them, and he wouldn't try to make them.

But Scar knew that. Because Scar liked him too.

And even through the way Scar groaned and covered his face at the words. Even through Impulse his laughter. Even through the pink air,

He felt it when Scar’s tails wrapped around his too, and he saw how Scar peaked at him between his fingers.

And the sun wasn't there, and the world slept soundly.

I like you, was spoken to listening ears

[heavenbarnes]

cockwarming a soft dick 🤤🤤🤤

what’s the logistics on this? genuinely cannot visualise it but if it’s a thing- power to it fr

[2bluetwo85]

Wait, guys. I tuned into the stream literally 5 minutes late and there’s a red flag? The fuck happened?

[2ndtryme]

Is it socially acceptable to say “woof” at the end of a horny message?

Idk..

[totally-lyrical]

what. huh. why is supernatural on my dash i thought it ended.

[atlasofearth]

does anyone else have no fucking clue what homestuck is

[forjongseong]

Is Sang Heon Lee Australian?

[anxietyfrappuccino]

the fact that i need someone to tell me "yes send the text message" is so fuxked of my brain

[starrycassi]

What the kids need (in times of war)

I'm not sure if it should be called war. They called it differently, I'm sure. It was not that long ago, was it?

I saw boys, one time. I was coming back from school, my backpack heavy with books and my chest heavy with fear. The streets under my feet were damaged, and my shoes were not good enough to stop my skin from getting hurt. Ashes and dried blood stuck to me all the way back to my house.

And I saw them.

They were boys, merely. Young boys.

And they saw me.

I had a backpack. Some of them had one, too. I still wonder what they were hiding in there.

"I'm harmless" I said, holding up my hands. I was, maybe, twelve. I'm not even twenty now, but it feels like an eternity ago. Like it happened to someone else.

I had my school uniform on, and a little tag hanging around my neck. It had my name, my age, and it confirmed that yes, I was a school girl, and I prayed that would be enough to make them respect my life. It should.

"Drop the backpack" they said.

I did.

I wondered if I was going to be raped. I heard many, many stories about it, from friends, and family, and neighbors, and strangers. I flirted with rape all of my life, but we never started dating. We did have some close encounters, so I had my little story, too. I still believed in God, and so, I prayed.

"You can have my money" was my plead. Take it and let me go, please. Leave me alone, and I will run. I am not ready to date, yet. Let me be a child, first.

They were not older than my brother.

My brother was not a good boy. He introduced me to the concept of dates.

"We don't want your money, dumbass. Probably only got five cordobas on there, don't ya?"

I remembered the sweet tasting lollipops I had gotten myself. Yes, I had little money left. The sweets were buried deep down in between my school books, because Mom hated that I spent money on something so stupid in the middle of a crisis.

"I have candy"

They looked at me, and I slowly moved, reaching out. There were at least a dozen of heart-shaped lollipops, all of them had kind comments engraved, a little touch that the brand had added some years ago.

"Not your baby candy either, idiot"

And so. I broke down, crying, and pleading, and wishing. I was not ready to date. I was twelve. Flirting was enough.

They seemed to realize what I was thinking about, and laughed. It sounded more like a howl. A cruel mock at my flirting experiences. One of them lift me up on his arms, and I was too stiff to run.

"It's all right, kid" said one that didn't even look eighteen yet, and I recognized in his eyes the look of a kid I used to play with in my street and then hung himself one day. I wondered if they were related, or just had the sadness lying deep inside of them.

I wondered if he knew how it felt like, wanting to end it all. If we could sit, and I could share my thoughts and feelings, and he would hug me like the older brother I never had. If he was old enough to understand how to help me, or if he was young enough to understand me.

I saw them, and I saw little boys that probably just wanted to go home. Have some of their mother's soup, and play in the street. Laugh it off after dropping some sick joke, and chase bugs down the river. I wondered if they also had a favorite flower, like I did. If their parents were divorced, and how did that affect them. If they had gone on dates. If they liked dancing or singing, and if they preferred metal to classical or reggaeton over pop.

I was, maybe, twelve. I wonder how old they were.

"You can have my lollipops" I said again, still worried, when I was done crying. I wonder why there was no one in that street. We were just a bunch of little kids alone. Where were the grownups at? Why didn't they take care of us?

"Nah, that's lame" said another boy. He had a horribly deep cut in his cheek, and I had band-aids and alcohol.

I ended up taking all of my school material out, making sure to keep it clean from the ashes and dried blood, just to give him some of the things on my medical kit. Mom made me carry it around everywhere, and, now, understood why. I also handed out the candy, some of them snatched it right out of my hand, munching and chewing without any care for their teeth, while some others refused a few times before finally taking them and unwrapping the candies slowly. The band-aids and gauze would heal their cuts, I was sure. Sweets would heal the internal wounds, I hoped. The ones on the soul.

And so, they walked me down to my house. Fighting over which one got to carry me and my backpack, laughing and telling me all about how to properly build a home-made Molotov, and how to build a great pillow fort.

Kids should look one after each other, after all. Only kids know what kids need in times of war. Molotovs and Pillow forts. Gauze with alcohol, and heart-shaped lollipops.