#WILL NEVER FORGET THAT DAY
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bryceslahela · 1 year ago
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if it’s not foreign affairs i’m personally burning pb to the ground >:(((
HELP i miss foreign affairs so bad i love blaine hayes so bad. literally this pic is a live reaction of me when i found out that fa was over.
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hemaris · 5 months ago
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was walking along a stream and kept seeing these little flower boats go by, and i was like "how nice is it that someone took the time to make these". and then 15ish minutes layer i came by a bridge where a guy in his sixties/seventies was sitting down with a huge bucket of freshly plucked flowers and leaves making the little boats, and another guy in his twenties who was fluent in english explaining to passers by that yes it's free, yes you can take pictures, yes it's just for fun. the older guy kept telling everyone that succesfully dropping them into the stream upright and having them sail away meant good luck in the future, and i'm like 98% sure that they were folded in a way where they're *always* gonna end right side up, but that didn't stop him from clapping/cheering every time one landed right. i sat down for a bit and hung out and chatted with them for like half an hour and they were SO fucking nice that i genuinely cried a little afterwards and anyway thank u for coming to my ted talk about the restoration of my faith in humanity
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kulai · 1 month ago
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how i think the break went for Enid (#1 diy queen) and Yoko (#1 impulse decision supporter) sigh!! ill miss yoko forever like come onnnn
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ninyard · 5 months ago
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from: kevin, to: andrew
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gfguren · 4 months ago
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pro hero!bakugou x fem!reader | fluff, suggestive, husband!katsuki, katsuki implied as being taller than reader, implied age (~late 20's, early 30s~), light-hearted bickering, an excuse to write more domestic!kats, 1.8k | cw: cursing, suggestive
-your husband comes home late, soaking wet and a little bit handsy-
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Katsuki is late; you hope traffic isn't too bad. Outside your window the sky is overcast, steely shades of grey over a slate canvas. The roads are dyed an inky charcoal, pooling at the surface where rain drip-drip-pours in endless streams.
You've taken up residence in the foyer, between the linen closet at the end of the hall, and the umbrella Katsuki left by the front door this morning. The very same one you reminded him to take with him at breakfast, and twice again before he left in the evening. If you loved him a little bit less, he might listen to you one day.
But you do—love him—right down to his bad habits and stubborn disposition.
So you wait for him the same way you have for years; perched at the breakfast nook in the corner with a warm cup of tea and a paperback that's been gathering dust for half-a-year now at least. The bar table is worn at the edges, legs wobble if you lean too far forward—frankly, you should have gotten rid of it years ago—but it was the first belonging that wasn't yours, or Katsuki's, but ours; a piece you thrifted when you were both still twenty-something and broke.
The years have changed a lot—our table, our bed, our house, our life. Your Katsuki.
—His wife.
The band around your finger is white gold; it clinks when you put the mug to your lips. Honey, ginger. Sweet. Rain hits the window and falls; two trails meet at the middle, and stick to each other like glue. Katsuki would laugh if he found you right now, smiling into your tea like a lovestruck fool.
You let the ceramic rest, turn to page thirty-or-something of a book that you totally-intend-to-finish. An hour passes before you hear the telltale rumble of an engine.
You spot his headlights first, misty pools of sunlight spilling onto the pavement when he pulls into the driveway. It's well past midnight now; Katsuki is a shadow against the porchlight, long strides and a hand over his crown. You have half a mind to bring the umbrella to him, but he's quicker, ascends the four steps to the veranda in two big leaps; you barely register the rustle of keys before he's stepping into the house, pooling rainwater at the welcome mat.
He's soaked at the shoulders, a grumble in his throat when he kneels to unlace his shoes—black leather, designer and sharp, same as the suit jacket around his shoulders. Tailored to fit him just right.
Katsuki's always been handsome, even as a hero in training renting hand-me-down suits from the little mom-and-pop shop down the street. But it really strikes you just how beautiful he is when you look at him now, dressed to the nines. All the years of hard work paying off in more ways than one.
You go a little fuzzy when he lifts his head to catch you staring; red eyes kindling the air and making it hard to breathe. He's the spitting image of a number two hero, just returned from a long night at some fancy-pants gala; sometimes you forget that's exactly what he is. Even more dumbfounded that, somehow, he's yours.
"I know," he grumbles, moving his shoes to the cabinet and meticulously hanging his jacket over the chair to dry. He briefly eyes the umbrella. "I f'rgot, kay?"
So have you, suddenly.
There's a pause and—"I didn't say anything."
He meets you at the table, one hand at the surface and the other at the knot of his tie. "Y've got that look."
You tip you chin to glare at him playfully. "And what 'look' is that, Bakugou Katsuki?"
"Like y'r about t'chew me up." He pulls the fabric strip from around his neck in one fell swoop, pops the first button of his dress shirt with his thumb. Your eyes fall for only a moment—barely a second—but Katsuki grins with the self-awareness of a man who's known you half his life. "Or about t'jump my bones, hah?"
He looks entirely impish in his revelation, ego flaring to rest in his cheeks; you have half a mind to nip at them like candy floss, instead you reach for the cuffs of his button-up, tidy the sleeves one fold over the other until the rainwater and well-kept muscles catch at the seams. You feign a sigh when his stare becomes too insistent to ignore, hand falling to rest at the peaks of his knuckles. "You'd like that, wouldn't you?"
"Yeah." A spark of firelight flashes in his eyes, deep carmine and coy; teasing him was so much easier a decade ago. "I'd let'cha."
You roll your eyes. "You're so unsexy, y'know that?"
"Hah," he barks with all the disbelief in the world. "What? Want me t'do that dirty talkin' shit instead? Jump y'r bones right here at the table? D'n think she'll hold up, baby."
He lets a fraction of his weight fall against the corner and the old wood immediately cries out, splintering oak and creaking hinges and the real, immediate threat that the poor thing might actually collapse at your feet.
You spring up defensively. "Katsuki!"
A once neatly-folded towel tumbles from your lap to land at your toes. His gaze falls; grin widens.
"Said y're gonna make me 'deal with it' next time I forgot the stinkin' umbrella, didn't'cha?" His fingers pinch the fat of your cheeks teasingly. "Love me that much, hah?" Your eyes narrow, fingers dive with intent for the space beneath his ribcage. He's quicker, wraps five fingers around your wrist and pulls you in with a hand at the back of your neck. He breathes, warm against the top of your head—"Missed y'tonight."
You hum against his chest, damp fabric sticking to your cheeks, flush and warm with surprise. You can count the number of times he's been this blunt with his affection on one hand; at least twice being in the presence of an empty champagne glass, or five. "Did you drink?" He gruffs at that—the only indication that he heard you at all. "Katsuki?"
"Come with me next time."
You tilt your chin, brow creasing. His head dips at the sight of the first wrinkle, the way it always does when he's trying to change the subject, or sweeten you up, or get his way in any way, really—a habit you must have taught him because you let him get away with it every single time. It's probably why he looks so offended when you pull back suddenly with a click of your tongue.
"That's not an answer."
"Not a drop," he finally says—huffs—with an almost boyish scowl.
You find yourself stifling a laugh, hand over mouth, and he glares, even as you step away to rustle through the linen closet. His eyes are red hot, brow downturned, downright grumpy, only cooling to a simmer when you're toe to toe once more, fresh towel in hand and lightly waving him down to your level. His spine bows, head dips until you're massaging the soft cotton through his hair; you would have had to fight him on this once—years ago—before time weathered his sharp edges, doused the wildfire raging in his heart until he became the man he is now—irritable, arrogant, stubborn, still, but willing—to make amends for who he was before, to extend a hand where he's able, to let you offer him one in return.
"Chose this one on purpose, didn't'cha?" Katsuki's voice is lukewarm, a tepid grumble at the back of his throat, an almost purr when you dip your fingertips against his nape.
"No idea what you're talking about."—but you do. The towel in question, he means, is from the left side of the closet, your side, all soft cotton and fluff; the same ones he refuses to use, for those very same reasons. "Said they 'd'n dry a damn thing' but-" you drape the supposed 'overrated, overpriced pile'a'fluff' around his shoulders to ruffle his bangs, more wily than usual, and barely damp. "Would y'look at that?"
He snorts, hand falling to the small of your back. "Don't get smart."
"Or what?" you keen up at him, at the balls of your feet, tip toes and still barely nose to nose; they bump once on accident, and twice on purpose. "Huh?"
Warm, exasperated breath fans across your cheeks. "Tryna start somethin' t'night, are ya?"
You bat your lashes, head tilting and fingers splaying across the 'v' of his neckline. "Me? Start something?" Your grin betrays your facade. "And what if I am?"
He pulls you in at the waist, holds you steady with one, strong arm, warm lips at your jaw and low, deep voice in your ear. "Better be ready t'finish it, then."
His right hand comes to rest at the back of your thigh, teases the skin right where your skirt ends; gooseflesh blooms all the way up your spine and you shiver. "Who's jumping bones now, huh?" you bark—yap, like a scaredy-pup with it's tail between it's legs—bite lost somewhere between the callouses on Katuski's fingertips and the press of his hips against your own.
You straighten your shoulders to get a good look at the ego washing over his face like miles of trumpet vine. All consuming, a force to be reckoned with. And devastatingly pretty.
"That'd be me, pretty lady," he says, all kinds of smug and annoying.
You hold him with your stare for an entire second—two, just so you can get a real good look at his stupid, handsome face—and then you're pulling him in by the collar, wrinkling the shirt he'll spend too much on dry-cleaning tomorrow. Not that he seems to mind when your tongue meets his, honey mingling with the mint on his breath and making his head swim, all but forgotten when a hand comes to rest at your waist, heated fingertips beneath your sweater, licking softly at your skin.
He walks you back 'til your thighs hit the table—(it rocks, precariously); one of your hands fall against the surface, the other to his heart that thump-thump-jumps when thunder rumbles through the house, and stills. You smile, soft against his lips, thumb tracing the precipice of his collarbone until your fingers can curl around his spine. The next kiss against his mouth is featherlight, barely there; you sigh, contentedly—"I love you."
Katsuki goes a little hazy, eyes the color of early Autumn; the blazing summer sun reduced to a tealight candle, flickering in the palms of your hands. "Yeah," he chokes. And you know just what he means.
You kiss him then, once more, a little more playful this time; mischievous and coy with a cheeky, "—even though you're totally unsexy."
"So help me, y/n, I will howitzer this table."
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pumpkins-and-penguins · 10 months ago
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something i really respect about brennan and izzy is that they’ve never just like. announced something. their engagement was “announced” in the middle of a zoom adventuring party in the midst of a different bit, everyone just kinda found out about their wedding through social media, and now their baby has been announced in the intro of a patreon exclusive talkback podcast through a bit that is basically indecipherable to those who have never heard it. despite being people who got their start within online community they are not beholden to sharing All Life News to them immediately and that rocks so hard.
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krowbats · 2 months ago
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krav.jpeg
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rottengurlz · 24 days ago
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she’s like if the virgin mary smoked a pack of pall malls every day 🚬
#sims 4#the sims community#simblr#ts4#sims 4 edit#mysims#drawing/editing these tears took actual years off my life#editing this in general did but the tears were my hell#her name is norma jean named after her grandmother but she goes by either jeanie or jj#she works at the local convenience store and bartends at night when shes able to pick up shifts#shes the worst bartender in existence and refuses to lift anything over 2 pounds#she once convinced a customer to buy her a sweater because she looked a little cold while working#she lied and said her manager never lets them turn on the heat and casually mentioned pennys was selling her favorite sweater#and then described in detail exactly where the sweater was in the store#all she had to do was blink her big brown eyes and call them baby a few times and they immediately folded#she goes to church 7 days a week even though she hates it because that's what she did when her mom was still alive#and its one of the few things that helps her feel close to her mom#her mom died after she had to drop out of highschool to take care of her#she holds a lot of resentment for having to give up such a big part of her life#but at the same time blames herself for not being able to make her mom better#she doesnt believe in banks and hides money around her house to store it but she's also super forgetful#she'll randomly find money around the house and then treat herself like it was present she meant to leave for her future self#she loves crosswords but treats it like a fun game and refuses to check if her answers are ever right#there's ur fun little facts about jeanie 🫵🏼
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tahopo · 3 months ago
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we truly regressed when people started buying into the genderbending is inherently transphobic thing. yeah that twelve year old being inquisitive and having fun on deviantart was your enemy all along.
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morethanwonderful · 2 months ago
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Sweeping away his competition with a constant lead and a final victory by 22%, Shen (Yuan) Qingqiu has officially beaten Qi Rong and been crowned the MXTX character that was/would be most insufferable if given access to the internet!
In the end, it turns out that this whole elaborate tournament was for naught. Even Qi Rong, the man voted more annoying that 63 other characters, cannot hold a candle to the sheer degree of insufferable that we know our dear Peerless Cucumber was and would be. Absolutely nobody can compare to Shen Yuan's canon keyboard warrior antics.
Thank you all for joining me on this journey! I hope everyone had fun voting in this tournament, as I know I had a lot of fun running things and watching everyone's hot takes. Shen Yuan may have rendered all but the very final round of voting moot with his sheer loveable obnoxiousness, but maybe the real most insufferable people online are the friends we made along the way :).
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naturesass · 2 months ago
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the universe is, and we are.
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clownsuu · 2 months ago
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HAPPY BIRTHDAY JACK TEEEHHEEEEEEEE
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THE BABYYSSSSSSSSS ;;;;;;;
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taffybuns · 11 months ago
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rikerssexblouse · 10 months ago
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I present to the fandom my humble offering on this, the most holiest of days.
HAPPY THRESHOLD DAY BITCHES.
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cosmicdreamgrl · 2 months ago
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jungkook x purple for @jkvjimin 💜 [ cr: 0613data, namuspromised, @jung-koook ]
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kiisaes · 1 year ago
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bkg knows what the pocky game is, he's just playing along
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