#a little bit dramatic

[callmeonmyrazr]

me 💁🏼‍♀️✨💖

[gloryseized]

missallanea asked:

a little bit dramatic , don’t you think ? ( mayura @ ladybug okay I'm done now lksfghfk sorry for the inbox spam )

Meme Tag -- @missallanea

It was one of the rare instances when both Mayura and Hawkmoth decided to show their faces for themselves. Chat Noir had already started to fight against Hawkmoth, dueling with a pair of sabers and the latter cackling manically. Marinette could only assume he did hours of practicing such laugh in whatever hole he decided to live in and send akumas out of.

She rested her hands on his hips, arching an eyebrow. " I don't know. I'm not the one who's been terrorizing Paris for months."

[90smisaki]

[dance-sex-artpop-tech]

i'm getting cavities filled and it's the worst thing i've ever experienced (dramatized)

[buppy-baby]

im making a collection of every time i cry before some sort of work function

[wuruwan]

[chasedeys]

Batmobile thoughts, please?

Joe : I don't know what you're talking about. Tee : ........I don't know what y'all are talking about. Ja'Marr : He bought the batmobile?

You guys are all in on this, wow. You guys are all playing dumb.

[brekwrites]

Was thinking about how Dark Sun seems to hate Moons but tolerates Nexus. Just a little longer…

[divorcedfiddleford]

and you may say to yourself: "my god! what have i done?" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful wife!" and you may tell yourself: "this is not my beautiful house!" and you may ask yourself: "well, how did i get here?"

time isn't holding up, time isn't after us, time is a pony ride! (images described in alt text)

[thereweredragonshere]

I get really nervous when it comes to colouring things in and I’m fed up of myself so I present my first ever attempt (I’m not joking, first EVER) of shading/lighting without using multiply or add layers. Just me, the god damn colour wheel and a normal layer. And hiccup.

[erinwantstowrite]

i love peter but he is the kind of asshole to eat a bite of ur food when you aren't looking

[xitsensunmoon]

Sometimes I think about how we as a fandom just replay Sun and Moon's voice lines over and over again.

How they would probably do the same, when pizzaplex feels especially cold and empty.

Playing your voice inside their head over and over again. Laughing at your jokes softly like they've never heard those before, but actually laughing just because the sound of your laughter is that contagious to them. Replaying their favourite moments with you before their eyes like a movie that they watch every time something goes wrong. You are their comfort character of that movie.

Oh how they would miss your actual voice. All of the recordings are glitchy now, as their speakers are shards of plastic, reminding them how actually fake they are. The recordings and themselves. How you're actually not here. How they're alone. Will you ever visit them again?

They miss your voice. They wish you could give them just one more opportunity to record it.

[aru-art]

happy 2nd anniversary to what continues to be the game of all time!! 🪐

[90smisaki]

[idk-bruh-20]

Irondad fic ideas #151

There is a LOT of Iron Man merch out there. One day, Stark Industries comes out with a line of Iron Man themed night lights that look like arc reactors. The marketing? "For kids who are scared of the dark: Iron Man will protect you."

In completely unrelated news, a whole bunch of child abusers across the country have recently been arrested as a result of  anonymous tips to local authorities.

Bonus:

It's an open secret at some point. Teens who are being abused start buying the night lights. Hell, adults start buying them. Charities pop up to cover the cost for anyone who needs it. Kids who are newly safe often send their night lights on to others ("I'm not scared of the dark anymore," they say).

Even with all of this, nobody snitches to the media or government. They all know grown-ups tend to complicate and ruin precious things.

It helps that the night lights clearly can distinguish between different types of situations. Kids whose parents need mental health or addiction support suddenly find they're being contacted by free services that actually help. If ICE is a concern, the people knocking on the door are not cops but immigrant rights activists. Kids who are hungry get food. Families who need housing support coincidentally find it.

"Iron Man will protect you," indeed.

This fic idea was inspired by this post from @fotibrit!!

[lilithofpenandbook]

Sometimes Severus comes up to Minerva. Right up behind her when she's busy. He'll stand there for a good minute as she works on marking assignments and cursing the boy's youthful energy and brilliant eyes- both of which directly responsible for his finishing his work in half the time it takes her.

"What is it, Severus?" Minerva sighs. Might as well get the obligatory nonsense over and done with, she was due a dose of Severus's antics by now (Merlin forbid he go more than three days without bothering her with nonsensical questions or infuriating wit).

"Am I ugly, Minerva?" he asked. Never there was a being with such innocence in their voice.

Minerva took a moment to take in a breath and silently call on all her patience and all her strength. "Yes, very." Her tone was blunter than the knives used to decorate at Halloween- an incident with some particularly idiotic third years had them ban anything sharper than the corners of a book during the Halloween celebrations.

Severus gasped as if stabbed. "What? Minerva, I thought we were friends!"

Minerva snorted. "Any time we interact, it's completely against my will."

"Minerva! you lie so shamelessly it shocks me." Severus made as if to swoon, a hand clutching the right of his chest.

"You must be shocked; your heart isn't where it should be."

Honestly, Minerva had to admire the fact that the insolent little kitten did not falter in his dramatics with her pointing out the key flaw in his act. If anything, he seemed to be encouraged.

"Ay! The pain of the shock, it has spread throughout my chest! Ah, I cannot breathe!" Severus swayed on his feet, leaning against the chair that Minerva was sitting in. "Oh, how your lie shocks me!"

"Well, then, you had better tell me what exactly I lied about," Minerva said briskly, "before you gasp all the air out of your skinny little lungs, laddie."

"You said," the boy said, a sudden glint in his eye and none of the apparent weakness, standing to face her and one of those long, delicate fingers pointed straight at her, "you said, that our interactions are without your will."

"That is no lie, what part of this looks like it's my will?" Minerva replied, knowing full well she wasn't going to appreciate the cheeky answer Severus had prepared for her.

"Why, the part where you remain for my company, mother," Severus replied, his voice light. "Surely, if you didn't want this, you would have, in your infinite wisdom, simply have employed your great power and assumed your famous feline form and just walked away from me."

Minerva fought her smile. His cheek was infuriating while his logic impeccable. "Perhaps I am simply conversing my energy, you arrogant wee rascal."

"You? Too lazy to avoid a nuisance?" Severus scoffed. "Minerva, you wound me. Don't you know how I know you? You've done much more to avoid the mildest of annoyances, do you truly think I believe that you are here against your will merely to converse your energy?"

Minerva let him see the flicker of a smile disgusted as a smirk, letting the bothersome raven have a little treat for his cleverness, hinting to him that he had essentially won this particular argument. "At my age you no longer have the patience to waste on annoyances. You learn to value your peace. You will understand that some day, I hope, little one."

"And if I die, my hair still black and my skin still smooth?"

Merlin, did the child have a turn towards the morbid. Minerva ignored the voice in her that told her that this would have been a retort of her own had she been in a similar conversation.

"Then you'll die a fool."

"A fool, perhaps, but my funeral will be the biggest," he replied, moving to sit on her desk and grabbing the biscuit jar. Minerva intercepted, lifting it from his grip and replacing it with a towel. His protests died in his confusion at the towel, and Minerva huffed and began to wipe his hands as if he was a child. She did not trust him to correctly clean his hands after handling goodness knows what when experimenting with his potions and she didn't care if he knew it.

"Aye, and how did you figure that?" she asked.

"Surely if I die young, I shall be the first. Therefore you all will be part of the funeral-"

"What makes you think I would want to attend your funeral, you little rascal?" She let go of his hands, almost satisfied that they weren't contaminated.

Severus ignored her and instead took a biscuit from the jar. "You will all be there, therefore I will have the biggest funeral. If I die old, you all shall be gone, so my funeral will be the smallest."

Minerva tried not to think of how depressing that sounded, how lonely it seemed. For a brief moment she felt guilty for being so old and he so young. She involuntarily could see him in her mind's eye, going through their funerals until he stood alone. She and the others- Rolanda, Pomona, Poppy, even Fillus and Hagrid- they were all of an age, weren't they? They could expect their lives to reach the end around the same time, surely? Severus was but a child next to them, he'd stand alone one day.

Minerva tried to ignore the ache in her chest at the thought of him standing alone. Merlin, no. He was far too young. No.

"You truly are besotted with the morbid and the miserable, you melanchonic masochist," she said, her tone just a trifle too sharp to be a simple retort.

Severus paused, swallowing the biscuit. Then he answered. "Ah, but the morbid is much more fascinating, the forbidden has a certain thrill, dear mother." His voice was a little softer, and his fingers, slightly coated in crumbs, were gentle when he tapped her forehead. He was sorry he upset her.

"You and your thrills," Minerva scolded, "yet you cannot even eat a biscuit without making a mess of yourself." Yet even as she spoke, the hand that she used to swipe the crumbs away, was gentle, almost tender, in its movement. She had quite forgiven him.

How could she remain angry? At this boy who looked at her with a scowl of indignation yet whose deep, dark eyes twinkled with mischief and cleverness and brilliance, who stood taller than her, yes, yet was far more delicate in his build than she had ever been, whose hair was as dark as hers had been in her youth, carelessly falling across his forehead. No, she could not remain angry.

If only he had been in Gryffindor, perhaps then she would have noticed him sooner. Or rather, if only her eyes didn't only open for her Gryffindors. How this boy could ever look at her without resentment and anger, she didn't know. Then again, he had been so incredibly isolated and lonely, was it any wonder he let go of his rightful grudges and instead accepted her friendship?

Minerva blinked as if soot from the fireplace got in her eyes. She didn't want him to notice the tears that almost inevitably formed whenever she thought about him. Who would have thought that she'd cry so much for the little devil?

"I'll leave you to your work, dear mother," Severus said cheerfully, hopping off her desk.

"Aye, after you've cleared out my biscuit jar, you villain" Minerva grumbled, looking into the empty jar. Severus shrugged.

"You ought to see it as a compliment towards your taste, really," Severus said. "But I see I have taken the last of your patience"- for indeed, Minerva looked ready to strangle him- "so I shall take my leave. Good night, my good Headmistress, and may you have peace in the silver embrace of the moon!"

And with a laughing twinkle in his eye and a boyish bow, Severus Snape left the room.

Minerva sighed. She wasn't sure if it was out of relief, or because she may have felt some sorrow at his departure.

The door opened again, and a rather meek Severus poked his head in.

"Er, Minerva?" he asked.

"Yes, Severus?"

"Er." Severus stepped in, looking away from her, walking with the awkward gait of a newborn foal, and the nervousness of a deer. "Er, Minerva?"

"Yes, Severus?"

"Am I really ugly, mother?" His voice was a whisper. His raven hair curtained his face, hiding his shame at asking such a pathetic question, and his fingers picked at one of the cuticles of a nail.

Minerva smiled, and walked to him. Softly she brushed the boy's hair out of his face and gently tucked it behind his ear.

"Only as long as you let yourself believe it, dear heart."