#goddammit my heart

[silverskyy]

[ID: two gifs of Dean running up the Bunker stairs to let in who he believes is Cas, back from the Empty after his confession. Overlaid text reads "and what good is hope/ if it is not for love". /end ID]

[suntails]

dance of dreams

[bird-inacage]

The Heart Killers EP1 | Kant's Sparkly Eyes

First fucking Kanaphan's facial expressions in this entire scene had me swooning. This man is just 90% eyes, and he knows precisely how to use them.

[cold-canned-coffee]

(mag117) “i need him to be okay”

“don’t die, jon”

“or tim, basira. or daisy”

martin it's okay we all know you're in love with jon i am too it's completely understandable

[criminalbenzene]

Oh god. I’m in love

The Wristwatch

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You had not known you were Nanami Kento's girl, until the Wristwatch Incident.

In truth, your affection had been brewing so slowly, you had not known if you were imagining it.

You had not realised you were in love with Kento, until he leaned in close, and you smelled the smoky, wood-rich warmth of him. Until you found yourself nursing stomach-dropping disappointment, if your phone pinged and it wasn't him. Until you woke up in cold sweats, the memory of the dream of his skin on yours so vivid that your heartbeat throbbed between your legs.

You couldn't accept it. It couldn't be love, when he did not love you back. And yet...that intoxicating dance continued, while your head dipped in denial...blinkered.

The extra coffee that would be gently slid over the desk to you, by a strong, gentle hand. The late night phonecalls, decompressing from the stress of your missions. The occasional dinner in each others' company, because, well...we both need to eat? Why not eat together?

You were afraid to label it; afraid to lose the soft skirting intimacy that you had. Nanami Kento was a hard man to gauge; alternately sincere and distant, warm and cool, closely familiar and objectively analytical. He kept you at arms' length; close enough to brush fingertips, but far enough that you could run...if you wanted. And you never did.

You had gone shopping, together, one balmy spring afternoon. You both needed new clothes...so why not together? It makes sense, really. Nothing else in it, I'm sure. Just friends. He doesn't feel that way about me, anyway.

He had insisted upon Ginza Shopping Mall. You balked at the exquisitely-expensive-upmarketness of it, but you could never deny him, for fear of losing this time together. You had perused for new earrings, your belly clenching at the many zeroes on every pricetag. He had ambled over to another counter, just browsing, and there for quite some time.

"See anything you like?" That deep-roast voice broke you out of your reverie. You looked up, into twinkling hazel eyes, and blushed. Yes, you. One of you, Kento, please and thank you.

"No," you scoffed, turning your back on the jewellery, and walking towards the shop door, "too cheap for me. I couldn't possibly be seen wearing them."

Kento laughed, slipping a box into his pocket, and walking just close enough to send your brain into a spiral. You barely functioned through lunch. Kento remained, as ever, a gentleman.

As he drove you to your door, and you bid him a flustered goodnight, you felt that same big, warm hand on your arm, holding you back to him.

"Wait," Kento insisted, "I have...something. For you. Open it when you're home." He pressed a smooth, embossed box into your hands. You could not see what it was, under the glossy paper sleeve. You opened your mouth to chastise Kento, and he interrupted smoothly.

"It's your birthday soon. Consider it an early gift. You couldn't possibly refuse...?" One raised, fine eyebrow. That cool, impassive gaze. You pouted. Sneaky old goat.

"Alright. You win this time, Kento...but I'll get you back," you had promised. He had simply smiled indulgently, stepped out to open your door, and watched you until you were inside.

With trembling hands, you slid the smooth paper cover off the box, and your stomach somersaulted.

Tag Heuer.

"No...Kento-- you didn't," you hushed to yourself, rushing to open the box.

You fumbled an exquisite silver, blue-faced women's watch out of the box. It seemed, somehow, familiar. You couldn't possibly. You knew the pricetag on these. Even the packaging was too expensive for you.

With one hand over your mouth and a pounding little heart, you sent Kento a text with shaky hands;

Nanami Kento. Absolutely not. Take it back.

A few anxious minutes, pacing, looking at the watch resting on the table and gasping each time. Three small dot dot dots...dot dot dots...and a response.

Sorry. Lost the receipt. It will look good on you.

Squeaking and grinning to yourself, you tried the watch on. You took it off. You paced. You tried it on again. You fell back onto your bed, legs kicking, and hands over your face.

Every further refusal you send to Kento, was flatly ignored. He left you on read all night.

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The next day, at work, you couldn't help but notice the looks you were receiving. They weren't bad looks, certainly, more...surprise? Happy acceptance? Knowing smiles? Each person the same; glancing to your watch, eyebrows raising, and searching your face with a grin. You didn't understand it.

Over lunch, Shoko reached over to you, a coffee in her other hand, and tapped the new watch on your wrist.

"Couples' watches now, hmm?" She smirked. You frowned, questioning. Shoko scoffed at you, as if you were playing coy, when you didn't even know the rules of the game. Shoko's smile didn't falter once.

You confronted Kento later that afternoon, dragging him into a dusty narrow corridor, and holding the watch up to him with fighting eyes.

Kento's heart burst with pride, biting his lip with a sly smile, and taking your wristwatched hand in his own. He tipped your arm back and forth, admiring the watch on your wrist from all angles, with a lovesick sigh. You suddenly recalled, with flushed cheeks, where you had seen such a similar wristwatch before.

Kento watched your mental gymnastics with a slowly growing smile. You almost caught on fire as he raised your hand to his lips, pressing an adoring kiss to the back of your knuckles.

"Wondered how long you'd take to notice," Kento rumbled, eyed closed and nuzzling his nose against your fingers, "that you're my girl. And always have been."

[lunalikestowriteanddraw]

I finally got the Astarion romance confession scene. Yall. Yall my heart. I can’t.

[severinaprince]

Have any of you ever had this heart-wrenching experience where you see an amazing fanart of some character, that dies in canon relatively young, but is depicted in their would-have-been old age? Fanart where the character has grey hairs in their head, fanart with expression lines and textured skin, where it is undeniable that the character lived.

I remember the first time when that happened to me with a character I adored and really wished they could have had the opportunity to live and enjoy life, not just survive.

That shit brought me to tears.

[chongoblog]

Good morning.

I think that mashup I put out last night is the best mashup I've ever made.

[wikitpowers]

may i present to you, baby kit art???????

art: @cassandrajean

[deepsixsquid]

That was a wild couple of days

[le-panda-chocovore]

Someone give some really good Payneland fic to read please or else I'm afraid I won't be able to ship those to BFF anymore

[hijackedhoneybeeez]

When Hearts Turn Full, chapter six

“Take me!” Chilchuck gasped. The stunned silence throughout the ruins was deafening. “I’ll be the new dungeon lord!” The Winged Lion’s gaze trickled over him, intrigue and indignation oozing from its sneer. It stirred from its perch, its bestial form stalking forward as it continued to size Chilchuck up.  “Really?” the demon purred. It rose up on its hind legs, the first step almost shaky before it fell into a more bipedal rhythm, its enormity shrinking until it was just a foot or two taller than Chilchuck. A paw reached forward and cupped his cheek as the demon leaned down, barely concealed claws grazing against his skin. “And what is it that you want?”

behold! its complete now :3

[tomfrogisblue]

nah it's really funny to me that my first full impression of cellbit was him turning up at Phil's lil old wall house and being kinda impressed at the way one of the new guys was taking all the Federation lore so seriously, he seems like a cool guy

now for the last few days I have suffered immensely watching him stack fruit to dramatic music for literal hours of my life

[duckiemimi]

can i be candid? the reason why i love geto so much is because he reminds me of a younger me. i had a phase where i thought like him, blaming a whole group of people for my trauma. i was hurt, i was angry, and i was misguided—i directed my energy towards things that would solve nothing, like petty vengeance and vitriol, a forever outlet to burn through the pain. but i grew. and i realized that that was not the root of the problem at all. i was, in a way, “saved.” i changed. and if i could change, like i’m sure many people also have, then he could’ve changed, too. he was “saveable.” there was and always has been hope. after all, the systems in place in the jujutsu world aren’t so different to the ones we have in ours.

[longagoitwastuesday]

I have learnt things about Geto that I wish I could unlearn

[fvedyetor]

rereading chapter 118 to prepare for this months chapter and

theres got to be something significant/symbolic abt how the panel itself gets slashed here, not just kenji as the character inside of it. with a manga focused on books and authors and The Book like... theres something here...