#crushes them in my fists

[mettywiththenotes]

Hori killed off the villain trio because he knew they would have screamed the stadium down in the second year sports festival cheering for their heroes

[daily-property-police]

Day 711- I am going to crush them with my fist!

[fivveweeks]

twitter dump. cringe ass manager and their guide

[reginaldubel]

the axolotl one underneath:

guardians

[moeblob]

Would you believe me if I said I rewatched s1 of a silly isekai anime but refuse to watch s2? (it's true btw, you should believe it, I watched s1 three times now)

[bonesbunns]

Little guys!!!!

[gumy-shark]

never watching a video essay on a show i like again

[eebie]

least favourite animal?

mosquitos are the answer that most people go for so i’ll say the proboscis monkeys. those things are freaks!!! have you seen the photos of them. there’s a reason that they’re usually cropped to be above waist-level ….. it’s funny but i dislike tjem because i found this out at school with several people looking over my shoulder at my screen

[willosword]

[b-blushes]

i'm already psyching myself up for a super strong Sort It Out Saturday tomorrow..... i can do it...... you can do it........... we can do it..............!

[jerktournament]

11 more polls left to draft up babeyyyy! I'm done working for today.

To nourish you all until the polls are done, here is a baby for-fun poll i pulled out of my ass. This has nothing to do with the main poll.

[bfdifan26]

i will go for months feeling absolutely nothing about 4x but from time to time something reminds me of them and i just have to take a few days to remember. they are literally married and they are literally the ruby and sapphire of bfdi they are so codependent

[princessmacedon]

There's a gentle dash of audacity, this year, this time. It's no meeting carefully engineered to be fleeting, an entrance racing to its exit, a script prattling to its end — Instead of dropping in between classes, waylaying her on the way to a seminar, running an errand and happening to see her there, his feet carry him to her doorstep, where he lingers. Where his hand hovers for a long, long moment. Where he thinks about the little liberties he's allowed himself around her in all his usual hideawaying and think, this isn't that unusual. Where he gathers his courage and knocks.

Rap-tap. Sharp, steady, unmistakeable. Gloved knuckles hover a moment longer, before lowering to grip the strap of their bag, waiting for her to open the door, waiting for the sound of her voice, waiting for her eyes to brighten, dousing them in color like spring in full bloom.

God, what is wrong with them?

Whatever it is, it's enough to make them keep doing this.

Fidgeting, Chad draws a little parcel out halfway, if only so they don't fumble it. Fingers smooth out the paper, flowers drawn on it by hand, fields of daisies as far as the eye can see. Inside, an array of animal-shaped cookie cutters, laid aside a charm of leather cord, strung with red beads.

They jerk a little when the door opens.

"Maria," they say, and they thought they had more to say, better, more heartfelt congratulations, but every other word evaporates. They flounder for all but a second. Bone-deep dread expands, then implodes inside of them in a howling burst of footfalls, before something rushes back into the space left hollow —

And then, somehow, they're just struck with this stupid little grin. Buoyed aloft, dangerously teering with no fear of falling, sweet-spun and sugar-high on candied strawberries and rosewater sunlight. There's no script. There's no doors. There's no ticking clock.

What the fuck?

What the fuck???

A wrist flicks. Miraculously still deft, they flip the box up out of the bag and hand it to her with both hands. "Happy birthday." They finish, lamely (ducking into their cloak, still smiling).

(there is, naturally, a part of them that is fully freaking the fuck out. please give them about five business minutes to start doing so.)

Though Maria isn't one to create and hold onto expectations, hope is another thing entirely, for as little as she wants to lay these small, unknowable wishes upon their shoulders -- oh, she cannot help herself! She is too easily swayed by the need to every so often kick her feet; every thought and daydream too easily fractured by the errant thrill that bubbles in her chest; wholly, utterly powerless to stop her fingertips from stippling her cheeks, waiting for a promise of affection that she knows full well was never made, and just as surely never owed.

No, not it is not expectation, but stubbornly hopeful anticipation. A letter from her brother, a warm hug from her sister, and… and…!

Digits radiate outward all at once, chin abashedly shoved into the wedge of her palms. They don't owe her anything-- really, they don't-- but she yearns for the affections of the ones she holds affection for. And is there truly fault in that? A dollop of silliness, perhaps, but nothing more greedy than to see herself in their eyes when they smile.

...her homework is a hopeless endeavor at this evening hour, for though it mellows as it wanes, there is far too much daylight left. Instead she reaches for a notebook, flipping to an empty page and staring at it for a while, productiveness much the same as before. (She does manage a title at least, 'Yellow Ribbon Cheesecake' looping across the top of the page, though its margins feature more crudely drawn smiles than ingredients or measurements.)

Rap-tap. Maria jolts, stills, and then beams, recipes forgotten as she trots to her door. She would hesitate to open it, the way her heart titters and swells -- would, were she not so excited. Instead she pulls it open in a fleeting, floating moment, rose-colored eyes searching, landing, finding. And all the world is a little brighter.

"Chad!" A name, a single syllable, and still not short enough to outpace her smile; the corners of her lips pull wide, a crescent smile tipping her head askew. Strands of crimson tickle her shoulder, and for once, she feels the urge to tuck it behind her ear -- does so, and pulls her arms toward herself, one knuckle touching the corner of her lips as she breathes a giddy little laugh.

The funny thing about such an innocent anticipation is the way it blooms, like when you hold a shard of glass to the sun at just the right angle and all its light scatters through its entirety: knowing no one has made it perfect, and everything has made it beautiful. Such is her world in this moment, set aglow.

Though she can see it in his eyes, Chad tucks his smile away, that precious, terrible way he does when he's feeling shy. Her hand shifts, the back of her thumb pressed against her lips as she stifles another giggle. "You remembered," she replies happily, the way one does when it was never in question. Fingers tap against the underside of the parcel, lingering a moment ere taking hold of it in earnest. When she does, it is against her chest, close to her heart.

"...hee hee. Thank you... I'm really happy." Catching the corner of his sleeve, Maria takes care to hold his gaze, warmth though it may bring to her cheeks, so that he knows that she means it. Then, when she is sure he knows, her eyes squeeze shut in abundant affection.

"Really, really... really happy!"

[faineant-girl]

hey guys is it embarrassing to like characters.

[bisaster-energy]

im not even done my current kuwameshi fic and im already getting ideas about new ones...

[cowbutchranch]

56, 58

56: How many people have you fist fought?

hahaha I am the least aggressive/confrontational person ever I’ve not fought a single person

58: Favourite weather?

FALL!!! ugh I love it so much