#boothangers

[teamwilsonfamily]

I like the way you kiss me 😍

(ciara/tiktok)

[barredandromeda]

i know hot people exist because u exist and ur full of them

in more ways than one

[stagnantstruggle]

[milimeters-morales]

I think that in the first few weeks of his spider-friends knowing Ganke, if they had made any sort of joke about him like they do between themselves, Miles would set off their spider-senses for a split second before he remembered it's just a lighthearted jab that they all do

[khaleesiofalicante]

A gentle reminder that Max is actually not short.

He is 5'7. He is the same height as Cillian Murphy.

He looks short because he is buff and because he is surrounded by ridiculously tall people ��😭😭

[lucienarcheron]

I wonder who that voice is 😏

[jrueships]

why do these photos make so much more sense now after seeing Holmgrag

[ackee]

YAY

[aleauderose]

guys hear me out seeing boygenius again but on halloween night?

[teamwilsonfamily]

Mama & Dada 🫶🏽 ❤

[barredandromeda]

kinda freaky that theres even a possibility that ur friends can start disliking u

[freeton1]

wip @ tiorah.tildeath on ig

[plushyluke]

hiiii<33 blue sage green cyan 💕💞💖💘💓💝💗

sweet, li <3 you are the reason my ego is so big on here 😭💅🏻

[cherrysha]

Some of y’all go insane for the most boring looking white men I’ve ever seen

[tredispade]

[ apotheosis verse ]

sephiroth stares at soleil, unblinking and expressionless. which piece of the puzzle are you, they wonder. where might we put you? they already have a name - soleil aiden, aspiring first-class - yet the longer sephiroth stares at him, the more perplexed they become.

no memories rise to the surface, no dark undercurrents, no hatred nor rage. just emptiness.

which means soleil is not a toy with strings. instead he is a delicate weed who deserves to be purged of life. he deserves to rejoin the others and finally take his place in their sublime and inevitable homecoming.

" are you afraid, soleil? you shouldn't be. "

@sephaeroth

Soleil stands there, staring blankly. Numbly. Uncomprehending over what he was seeing before him. It didn't make sense, Sephiroth was dead. Had been so for a long time--- yet here he stood, right in front of him. Looking whole and hail. Unchanged. Soleil just couldn't quite believe it. Because as he looked into those eyes, he didn't see recognition. Didn't see that cool aloofness of his mentor and friend. Or that glowing playfulness when he was amused. The the frown when upset, or confused.

There was just... nothing. Nothing.

Taking a steading breath, he squared his shoulders then took a slow determined step forward, then another. Pacing forward until he was only a few feet away, just within arm's reach. He knew, somehow, that this wasn't right. Nothing about it was right. He could feel it like a chill down his spine. He should turn and run, yet he couldn't.

He was just so grateful to have Sephiroth back that Soleil didn't have the mind to focus on that feeling of wrongness that tickled at the back of his neck. The sense of relief was so potent that he shook from it. His hands trembled at his sides. His heart pounded frantically in his chest so fiercely that it ached. Surely, whatever was wrong, it could be sorted out with a little talking and rest.

He forced a small tight smile on his lips. To hide the pain that twisted in his chest and shifted behind his eyes. He tried to speak like nothing had changed at all. Tone light and cheery, if a bit trembly. When really, he wanted to cry, or even pull the other man into a tight embrace. But he knew better than doing so. Sephiroth wasn't one for physical affection. Nor did Soleil want to look overly emotionally weak in front of him.

"Afraid? Not at all. We're friends, remember? I'm not that easily intimidated. I'm just... just glad to see you're alright. It's... been a long time. I was afraid I might not see you again."

Soleil did hold a hand out then, even if it might not be wanted. As an offering to take, letting it just hang there in anticipation. Soleil couldn't help it. He wanted to touch him so badly. To make sure he was real. Really there and solid and not just a figment of his grief tormenting him.

"Would you like to come back to town with me? It's getting late, if you need some place to stay, I have a spare bed you are welcome to use."