#gonna try to watch em all

[moeblob]

"Him? Oh, you know, he's kind of a loser." - probably everyone except for his younger brother.

Germaine is based on the layer of hell (Dante's Inferno) for material wealth before self, others, and god. So basically very materialistic and possessive of his belongings. Unfortunately, his younger brother qualifies as a belonging in his mind. So he does his absolute best to keep his brother safe and sound and scratch free - which is a bit tough in a post apocalyptic setting but he mostly manages.

Also a fact I just like to mention: he is incapable of lying.

[popponn]

there is something about how when anime official art gets yoichi right fashion wise it's always a comfy bf look like look at him

very fluffy. very huggable. i want to poke and pinch his cheeks. also he often has those lil blushies when he eats and for some reason it's cute. the gap moe between on field and off field is still something else to see each time i remember it. i love it ofc 💚 but it's still something else

[carnivalcarriondiscarded]

okay wait laughingstock concept Incoming: so im imagining some of the neighbors (maybe Julie & Frank) noticing that Barnaby & Howdy are a lil fruity, yk yk. and Julie's like damn, i guess we have to play matchmaker here.

so naturally they wind up getting the whole neighborhood involved. everybody's a wingman here. Poppy's dropping hints when Howdy drops off groceries, Wally is constantly asking Barnaby to go get him things from the bodega, etc etc. Howdy and Barnaby are facing this sudden change in town-wide behavior with slight concern and bemusement

eventually - lets say Julie, Sally, and Wally - get Barnaby into the bodega and then abruptly leave like "don't have too much fun without us you two *wink wink nudge nudge*". once they're gone (read: very obviously hiding outside & watching through the window) Barnaby & Howdy turn to each other like:

Barnaby: you think we should tell them we're already married?

Howdy: let them have their fun - they'll figure it out eventually

[savagebisand]

We need to talk about Boeing...

You cannot fool me JoJo. As fortuitous as I feel to see Mond's gorgeous scheming face on my screen once more, I do not believe for one second he is only going to cause mayhem for TopMew. You may argue SandRay have enough to deal with for now drama wise, Rays journey in rehab, whatever Ray's father asked of Sand, the apartment fight. I will simply say to you my brethren, enough is never enough for JoJo. That beautiful conniving bitch. Love that man.

In the preview we see Boeing is causing issues for Top and Mew. in the words of Taylor it was so nice everyone being friends again. There Mew was giving Top a second chance. buT lo and behold there has been a Boeing a Hoeing around these parts. This was not something Mew was envisioning having to intercept on his merry skip of sweet mercy.

But whatever. Mew is gonna do what Mew gotta do. We need to talk about the Boeing of it all more. He's here and he's ready to stir up chaos. He's diving in balls first baby. Clearly quite happy to be Tops on call emergency fuck service when the insomnia pills just won't do it, this does not surprise me one bit. It makes sense to me he'd compete with Mew for Top. Boeing has always been in some pointless game with himself of becoming Tops priority. Or at least something that Top cannot completely let go of.

What surprises me more is that we aren't seeing more drama for Sand with shitty ex boyfriend of the year back in town right when Sand thinks he can finally be the first choice of someone he has come to love. How is this gonna set him back? After all, Top assured Sand that Boeing and him were long done. If Sand sees them together, it's clearly not the case now. How will he digest that? The mere mention of not being enough for Boeing set Sand off on vengeance is my middle name mode not too long ago. He's never been great at holding Boeing accountable for his part in fucking off with Top and leaving Sand in the dirt.

Because here's the thing. No matter how Sand sees it Boeing was not "stolen", Boeing made a choice. And is seemingly still making that choice, Top to the detriment of his own well being every time without fail. I am so very hopeful that seeing Boeing clinging to Tops scraps of attention again will wake Sand up enough for him to get the closure he needs from his ex being around, leave Boeing fiending after Top and come to the realisation that Boeing would've never been right for him. Never would've put him first the way Ray is at least trying to choose Sand's love right now, choose getting better in rehab even though it'll feel like it nearly fucking kills him for Sand's love.

But on the other hand, with Ray away in a rehab, experiencing relapse and withdrawal and having moments where he switches back to the old cold Ray on his journey to find his best healed self, there leaves room for Sand to feel scared and lonely and doubtful too. Perfect time for someone like Boeing to slink on in and play with those emotions... I just really hope Sand shows us how he's never yielded to anyone like he does for Ray with this messy bitch and doesn't give in to Boeing's flimsiness this time around. I want Sand to get the chance to finally hold Boeing accountable for his part in the downfall of their relationship instead of pinning it all on this rivalry with Top.

[compressednerve]

I think I kinda fell out of love with Control and writing/drawing for it... :( I'm sad because Trench's narrative as a disabled/terminally ill person really resonated (lol) with me, and I feel like I hadn't fully gotten my feelings on that figured out before the door shut. I had kind of a lot of WIPs that I was excited to finish up and put out there, but after my friend lashed out at me in November I just lost most of the spark. It hurt a lot, I felt really scrutinized and like what I was creating didn't have any merit or originality to it... I've been struggling with inspiration since then, but the good news is my attention is slowly being pulled back towards Alan! Soon Parasite and I will be able to play it (prolly towards the middle of the month lmfao) which is very exciting, I've seen so many interesting little tidbits and I've loved Alan since 2013 -w-

[hauntingblue]

Zoro was about to tell luffy off for making a scene but luffy just says some guys spilled red bean soup and he starts to make a worse one. Amazing

[jrueships]

pg really had THE wag jarebear on his show and proceeded to dish out all his personal onions on his teammates i 😭😭

[ilovelickingrocks]

me when blake and adam team up to prank ders: haha he deserves it he's kind of a jerk anyway

me when ders and adam team up to bully blake: leave my boy alone you big bullies this is physically painful to watch

[coloursofaparadox]

>:[

[starry-bi-sky]

MOVING THIS TO RBS bc i have my laptop and can actually give a longer response now. >:]. And man where do I start. Mmmmmm.

When Danny finds out he's a clone is v v important to me because in clone^2 he acquires Lil Damian after finding out he's Bruce Wayne's clone (rather than Batman's) and it offers a lot of weight and introspection to their relationship, but I also want to follow your post's canon. MMMM. I'm putting a pin in it for now bc im running circles around in my own head, and deciding for now that Danny knew he was a clone before he and Kon started dating, and waited to tell him because being a clone is very personal to him, and it's not something he tells just anyone. Only his close circle of friends and family know he's a clone, so him telling Kon was a huge show of trust and vulnerability.

Also, for no other reason than I think it's hysterical, but when Kon tells Tim about his boyfriend being Batman's clone, he has no idea about Damian. He knows Danny has a little brother he adores, but they've never met and Damian isn't really that rare of a name.

That's because Danny's pretty secure (most of the time) in the knowledge that nobody will piece together that he's a clone regardless of if he knows he's Bruce's/Batman's clone, since A (if he knows he's Bruce's clone): the current general public know Bruce Wayne as a he is currently; a well-dressed man in his late thirties-early forties with a Captain America build (among other things), and Danny is a 17-18-ish year old boy with a sleeper build and long hair and a preferred fashion of "baggy alternative that forces people of all kind to question their sexuality"

(Genderfluid danny for the WIN)

and B (if he knows he's Batman's clone): nobody knows what tf Batman looks like.

Baby Dames is a whole other story, since Damian Wayne is in the public eye quite often, Danny thinks Dames is at a bigger risk of getting recognized despite being significantly younger than his template. Which means he's a bit more protective/wary about introducing him to people, although they've been lucky so far.

Danny introduces Kon to Damian about a week or so after telling him about being a clone, Kon's positive reaction to the reveal gave Danny the confidence and security to introduce him to Damian. He doesn't outright state Damian is also a clone, but Kon connects the dots instantly upon meeting him, but is smart enough to keep mum about it.

ALSO, to switch gears again, I love the implication here (to me at least) that Tim knows about Danny, but hasn't quite met him yet. I think he'd clock Danny being a clone pretty quickly (not instantly, but quickly) due to the sheer amount of research/stalking he went into with Bruce. Iirc he even knew what kind of paintings he liked, so I think he'd definitely (even if its eventually) recognize a younger Bruce Wayne in Danny.

Like, oh, yeah, his best friend is dating some guy from the Midwest and Kon's probably told him everything under the sun about Danny -- like how he does this cute little grunt when you catch his attention, and that he has a habit of chewing on the end of his pen or thumb nail when he's lost in thought, and he scrunches up his brows sometimes when he's confused, and he has a smile that could light up a whole room, and eyes as bright as glaciers, and -- and it's to the point that Tim probably knows everything about the guy and they've never even met.

He doesn't even bother looking him up, because damn, he already knows what Danny looks like just from Kon's description alone. The one time he decides not to be an obsessive little freak and it comes around to bite him in the ass, because Danny is apparently a clone of Bruce. He finally goes and looks him up and goddamn, the similarities are right there. He even has Bruce's goofy-ass bat-wing shaped eyebrows.

How did this go under the radar for so long.

AND -- because the ADHD is hitting and i'm hopping topics like a mallet in whack-a-mole -- the meetcute. Obsessed with thinking about how Kon and Danny met, and imo the only appropriate (/j) way is that it was as mutually civilians. Except I wanna explore the concept, so instead of it being a coffeeshop meetcute, it's something else.

Danny is in Metropolis with his family for something and was exploring the city during the rare few moments he's alone, and it's very important to me and only me to mention that he's been having a rough go of it lately. Just the new-usual and monthly identity crisis, so he's gone and stuck more holes in his ears. With the added bonus of a brand spanking new eyebrow piercing and lip piercing. If he doesn't like it, he can just take them out and let them heal.

Anyways, he's standing at a stoplight and waiting for the crosswalk to go, Kon was standing next to him and they were relatively ignoring each other. They're standing at a corner with relatively low traffic, and the crosswalk lights up. What happens is that Kon is walking somewhat in front of Danny, when a car comes veering around the corner. It's going fast enough that it would've most certainly hit Kon, if he weren't half-kryptonian.

And also if it weren't for the fact that Danny is faster. Before Kon can dive out of the way of the oncoming speeder, an arm snakes around his waist and he's yanked back and onto the ground. Seconds later, the car whizzes past, a hairsbreadth away from Kon's feet.

"Shit." He says without thinking, slack-jawed and shocked for multiple reasons, and he continues to not think as he tacks on; "Good reflexes."

He turns to look at his supposed savior, and sees a boy with long, dark lashes and even longer hair, pretty blue eyes, and propping himself up on his elbow. The boy gives him a sarcastic smile, "Thanks," he says, "made them myself. You alright?"

"Just peachy." Kon manages to get out, and watches the boy unwrap his arm from around his waist and get up, and then thinks to get up himself.

"You'd think that guy was being chased by the Bat himself." The boy quips dryly, brushing himself off. "He's in the wrong city for that, Gotham is the next storm cloud over."

Kon snorts, and somehow manages to get the pretty boy's name and number, offering to show him the best places in Metropolis as repayment for "saving" him. The rest is history. They start out friends, and only start dating half a year later. Kon was visiting Metropolis to visit Clark and Lois, and heads back to Smallville after he's done -- which is fortunate. Because it's about five hours closer to Illinois than Metropolis, which makes popping by Amity Park to see Danny occasionally just a liitttle bit easier.

Over 900 prompt

Okay I love the Danny is a clone of Batman aus but I've never seen this done.

Danny and Kon dating and Then Danny learning his parents cloned Batman thinking he is a ghost only to find out he isn't and kept Danny as their kid.

Just think of the hilarious reactions

Caue this immediately popped into my head.

Kon: *muffled screaming into Tim's couch*

Tim: ....you good?

Kon: danny is the clone of Batman

Tim: ...

Kon: I'm the clone of Superman

Tim:...

Kon: AND WE ARE DATING!

[inbabylontheywept]

i did wrestling in middle school. on one hand, i was actually quite good at it, which was nice. being good at any sport was a new achievement for me. on the other hand, i was bi, and i was trying very hard not to notice that i was bi, and getting folded into knots by very kind, very muscular dorks made that task somewhat difficult.

adding fire to the problem was that my parents and my grandparents wanted to watch my matches, because they were very proud that their Gangly Nerd Son was actually Sporting, and they wanted to cheer me on. which would've been sweet and all, but if there are four people you do not want there during a key part of your Burgeoning Sexual Awakening, it is your mom and your dad and your grandma and your grandpa.

right? i mean, imagine some guy's got your head in his armpit, and you're going you know, old sweat smells bad, but fresh sweat has a sort of and then you make eye contact with your grandpa in the stands and you remember you're swearing spandex so if you pop a boner people aren't just going to be able to see the outline, they're going to be able to count the veins, and the only way you will be able to restore your family's honor after that would be by moving to siberia and renouncing joy, forever. that, or lift your entire body up by your kneck then twist 180 degrees without paralyzing yourself.

it’s a lot of pressure, is what i’m saying.

still it did motivate me to win my matches really fast. because i was so tall and skinny, i was stupidly good at the double leg takedown, and then once someone was knocked down, i'd just do the half nelson and kind of flip em over for the pin. then the ref would count to three and i’d win. EZPZ.

i had one match where that went great. won in the first ten seconds, sat back down, and prepared myself for a good hour or two of doing fuck all. didn't even feel bad the parents/grandparents were gonna be bored. the matches went up from me in 5 pound increments (i was in the 115 lbs division) and it was going great until we got to the 145 lbs division. the other school's wrestler stepped onto the mat, and she turned out to be a girl so our guy flipped, because for straight guys, wrestling a girl is not a pleasant experience.

i'm not entirely unsympathetic. my experience wrestling dudes was definitely a little traumatic. but also, i dealt. guy could've dealt too. instead, he refused to wrestle, and the coach went - fine. not even worth fighting over.

so he went to the 140 pounder, and that guy said, nosir, my mom said mormons can't wrestle girls. next guy down, 135 pounder, now he knew he could pull the same card and thus did. 130 pounder, 125, both tapped out. he got to the 120 guy, and that guy was catholic, but he said he was considering being mormon, and thus would have to pass. as a precaution.

coach blew up a little at that. he said "is there anyone - anyone - on this entire goddamn team that is willing to wrestle a girl?" and then he pointed at me and said "YOU. MAT. GO."

and i'll be real, if i'd been paying more attention, i'd have pulled the mormon card too, but i'd just been putting all that audio into a buffer file because i was reading, so i was halfway across the mat before i even processed what had been said and by then it was too late to turn back.

still i had a plan. and my plan - my beautiful, perfect plan - was to do what i'd always done. tackle, flip, pin, win. sit down. read. bore my family to death. move on.

i got the first part right. she was bigger than me, but she wasn't taller. just an incredibly stout woman. god built me like a snake with glasses, just as he built her like a combat cube. the problem was the half nelson. soon as she was down, i tried hooking my arm under hers from behind and for both genders, the defense for this move is just clamping your arms really fucking tight against your sides. if you're a guy, that's whatever, but if you're a girl - especially if you're god's chosen combat cube - that pins your opponents hand right against your boob.

so, i got the hook in, she clamped, my whole arm pressed against something soft, my coach was yelling THE HALF NELSON. BABYLON! JUST FINISH IT! FINISH THE HALF NELSON! and i was just trying to press hard enough to finish, when then my brain went

...oh.

and i flipped out. of course i flipped out. i like girls, and touching a boob is an elemental experience, and i was not ready. i was not prepared. i had not committed the sacred rites. i recoiled like i'd just brushed my arm against the surface of the sun, stood up, and backed away. nobody in the room knew why i'd given up. all they saw was me, right about to win, suddenly flailing around and scrambling. so everyone started screaming at me to just get the half nelson again, and i couldn't really yell back there's a fuckin' boob in the way and it was very distressing, and the only way i could think of to make them stop was just doing it over again the right way.

so i did.

i hunkered down and prepared myself for Wrasslin' Attempt #2: The Sequel.

i knocked her down again, EZPZ. i went for the half nelson again, but she knew what i was about to do so she super clamped, and i knew she was gonna super clamp, so i wound my arm back like a pop-eye cartoon punch before swinging my arm through the gap between her bicep and her side, but the amount of time i spent winding back super signalled what i was about to to do, which gave her time to clamp even harder, which somehow redirected the entire force of the popeye punch to the bottom of her bra.

it spat out a single boob the same way an action hero might spit out one single tooth after getting a solid crack across the jaw. as if to say:

*ptooie.* "that all you got?"

i did not actually see this. my experience was that first there was an arm, then there was a bit of boob, but i was braced, i was ready, forward at all costs, tatakae motherfuckers, and then the boob went away, and i didn't know where it went but my team, and the audience, and everyone who was in front of me, they all gasped like i just kicked them in the stomach. except for my coach. he was behind me, and thus one of the four people in the room who did not see the boob. now my mom, my dad, my grandma, and my grandpa, they all got flashed but nooooooo, coach thunderbutt was behind me, and he didn't see shit so he was still yelling NOOOOOO BABYLON WHAT ARE YOU DOING JUST FINISH THE NELSON! GO FOR THE KILL! BABYLON! BABYLON!

but i did not go for the kill. i stood up and she stuffed her boob back real fast, and we just kind of circled each other awkwardly until time ran out and i won on points. that's not technically allowed, but the ref had some mercy on me.

my coach did not.

i barely had time to sit down before he strode over to the bench to chew me out.

"babylon," he said, in that very calm way people get when they're too pissed to yell. "why didn't you pin?"

and i didn't know how to say well coach, i tried, but there was a boob, and it kept getting in the way, and my mom was watching, and so was my dad, and so was his dad, and his mom, and god (like bible god) and that's a can of worms because i'm pretty sure he was already mad at me, and i'm wearing spandex, and i think i might have to move to siberia, so instead i said

"i uh. i forgot how to do the half nelson."

which is actually impossible. forgetting how to do the half nelson is like forgetting how to swallow your spit.

and he looked at me, like i was the dumbest person in the entire world, and i looked through him like i'd just survived my 250th day in a trench at verdun, and he said: fine.

fine.

but we're all going to practice it for an hour tomorrow because you forgot.

and then he left.

and my buddies had the gall to be salty about it. i got so many comments saying "dude, why didn't you just tell him the truth?" and i said "you can if you care so damn much. you could've wrestled the girl too. maybe someone else should do the hard thing today."

but they didn't. so the next day, we did an hour of half nelson drills, and i spent a decent amount of time getting thrown around the mat, and it was pleasant in exactly the way that i hated and the year after that, to the surprise of everyone but myself, i quit wrestling and joined the trivia team.

and if you want more reasons to love my mom, my grandpa joked after the match that i might have to talk to my bishop about it, and my mom told him he would be allowed to make jokes after he stood in front of a crowd of 110 people in spandex underpants while wrestling a woman that was not his wife.

he paused for almost five seconds after that. then he said: aw. hell. sorry babylon.

and i'd have preferred my apology from god, but getting it from him was pretty good too.

[crypt1dcorv1dae]

Other people playing fields of mistria: ohhh so cute!! I'm gonna explore and talk to everyone and build relationships 💕

Me: fuck yes I'm going to be so fucking efficient

[wtfcuk835]

AHHHHHHH I THINK I HIT TAG LIMIT BUT OH MY GOD IT WAS SO SO SO SO SO CUTE AND SOFT AND INTIMATE AND ADORABLE.

I NEED TO CHEW ON SOMETHING. I NEED TO RUN AROUND. I NEED TO KISS THEM ALL FUCKINF SILLY. I LOVE LOVE LOVEEEEEEEEE THIS AND I LOVE YOU!!!!! THANK YOU ARI 🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

suguru wakes up, with a jolt, to the sound of a thud and a meek little yelp.

his eyes blink open, like the shutter of an old camera, raven lashes fluttering along — met only with the dim darkness of your bedroom. not quite pitch black, the light of something soon to resemble dawn bleeding in through the closed blinds, a blue kind of hue that doesn’t do much for him. everything is still dark.

but he can make out shapes, see the ceiling above him, and when he turns his head to the right he can see the contours of shoko’s face; fast asleep, snores building up in her throat and spilling from her lips.

(ridiculously cute.)

sadly, suguru doesn’t have time to savour the sight. because it takes him no less than a moment to notice that his other sleepy baby isn’t there at all — he barely even has to look, just feeling the mattress below him, knowing something is missing. he can’t feel at ease unless you’re weighing it down.

”baby…?” he rasps, deep and groggy, body moving on its own. elbows digging into the mattress, lifting himself up — a tug of alarm stirring his heartstrings.

the thud, your absence, the unmistakable yelp.

his muddled mind puts three and three together — and he sluggishly, steadily pulls himself up, almost desperate to locate you, but careful not to wake shoko. he moves elegantly, like a panther, slipping out of bed, bare feet meeting the cold floorboards as he stands up to his full height. hair a mess, a raven’s nest, sweatpants close to slipping off one side of his hips. absently wiping at his bleary eyes.

as soon as he regains his vision, stands up straight — he sees you. lying on the floor, like an abandoned plushie, while the adorable culprit is sprawled out peacefully on the mattress above you. you’re trying to get up, all disoriented and sleepy, and suguru thinks his heart might just melt down to the marrow.

this is exactly why he makes sure to sleep on the edge of the bed, most nights. exactly to prevent this — prevent his lovers from rolling over, tumbling right off. he doesn’t mind sleeping in the middle on days you want one arm each to latch onto, of course not; nothing warms his heart more than having both his babies on either side of him. but it feels good, to be the shield between you and the hardwood floor — making sure neither of you could ever fall off. it feels good, to watch you both nuzzle together like a pair of sleepy kittens. left side, middle, he’s fine with either.

just as long as he can prevent this. having to watch your small, sleepy form paw at the floorboards in search of stability. it breaks his heart in two.

”oh, baby,” he croons, deep and dripping with honey, crouching down beside you. effortless, as he scoops you up into his arms, one of his palms curling around your back — running down your spine.

and your eyes flutter open. hazy eyes, blinking at him, gaze almost absent, like you’re not quite sure what you’re looking at; but you’re already leaning into his touch, muscles softening, as if your very essence knows you’re safe. in his arms, in his lap.

it makes him want to cry.

(it makes him want to give you everything.)

he wastes no time in securing you, arms under your legs and behind your back as he stands up again. cradling you close, letting out a quiet coo, as if shushing a disgruntled child. the fall must have woken you up, poor thing. he wishes he could be angry with shoko, but she looks too sweet, when she’s so deeply asleep; drooling a little, groaning out something that sounds like a name. he only shakes his head, still rubbing gentle circles into your back.

”what a little bully, huh…?” 

no response. you’re already starting to nod off, again, and so he gets back into bed — guiding you to rest against the wall, safe and secure, where no sleepy girlfriends can get to you. tucking you in under his chin, making sure you’re comfortable against him.

(your shield, always. that’s all he wants to be.)

his lips find their way onto your forehead, pressing a gentle kiss between your brows. soft and chaste, holding you snugly, so eager to dote on you. his heart is still bleeding with tenderness, he can’t keep it in, it’s leaking all over the mattress and urging him to hold you tighter against his ribs. he thinks of how confused you must have been, waking up on the floor, wonders if you hurt your head on the way down — pressing another kiss there, for good measure. 

sweetly, sleepily, your lips curl up into a smile. 

a yawn slips past your lips, as you nuzzle into him, cheek all squished against his cushiony chest. looking so pleased that he almost wonders if this was your plan all along, a way to get all his attention.

suddenly, a weight drapes itself against his spine.

while he’s busy coaxing you back to sleep, he feels it; a sleepy murmur, muffled right against his bare skin, as a pair of lanky arms wrap around his waist. her voice is so raspy he just barely picks up on it, but his ears are attuned to every sound she makes.

shoko stirs behind him, fingers digging into his hips.

”… give ’em back…”

… his brows furrow.

”thief,” she yawns, again, all groggy and gruff. so, so silly. ”give them back… you’re so greedy…”

a raise of his brow, as he breathes out a scoff. ”you kicked them off the bed, you know…”

shoko only breathes out another groggy grumble, in response; her lanky arms tugging at his shoulders, using them as leverage to drag herself over his body and closest to the wall. he only lets out an amused huff, letting her manhandle him a bit — letting her snuggle up to you, warming your back. suguru feels himself smiling. watching you squirm, when her short, auburn strands tickle your sensitive collarbone, when she sighs into your neck. right in the middle of the two, right where you should be.

right where you belong.

he leans forward, brushes the curtain of your bangs away from your face, plants his lips against your forehead; smears a kiss against shoko’s cheek. he can’t help himself but to fall into you, breathe in the scent of your moisturizer, fading citrus drops and coconut oil. can’t help himself but to love you.

(his angels, he thinks, the word stuck on his tongue. his reason to be.)

suguru hugs you both close, now separating you fully from the edge of the bed, the chilly mahogany floor just waiting for impact. like the steady wall he always yearns to be, your ever-eager guard dog, even in your sleep. he’d like to jump into your dreams, make sure they treat you kindly — but he can’t. 

so this will have to do.

with a sigh, his lashes flutter shut. eyes drooping, every muscle in his body beginning to relax, sink into the mattress below. you’re safe, and shoko’s safe. that’s enough to put his heart deliriously at ease.

with the dark blue shade of the almost-morning sky bleeding in through the window’s glass, the city fast asleep beyond it — suguru closes his eyes. he whispers, breathes a silent prayer into the top of your head. he hopes you can still hear it, that it can bring you both solace, that his wish will come true.

”sweet dreams, my angels.”

(that’s all he could ask for.)

[jaythelay]

Some umpire in a tennis game decided to disqualify a player for responding to a heckler in the crowd...

So if ya'll wanna fuck with some tennis matches, just saying. The heckler wasn't kicked out and the player lost because of em and the umpire arbitrarily deciding to disqualify him.

Sports are stupid. E-Sports has people swinging their controller like a whip into the ground as hard as they can, there's emotion, humanity, energy, excitement!

Idunno man, but every time sports come up, it's always about some arbitrary ruling nobody agrees with, or long covered CTE/TBI problems by the companies, and keeping players unsafe for dumb reasons, or yet another abuse scandal of any variety. Boring. Tennis should be played with a gamecube controller like a whip just as god intended.

[what-if-doctor-who-was-yuri-yaoi]

btw i have a couple rss feeds on my neocities ^^ u can check em out if u want :3

[koushirouizumi]

{M.A.N.K.I.N} ~ Y O H & (A c e-spec!) M A N T A “P A P E R C U T”

Short Summary:

"CAN'T S T O P what i'm h e a r i n g we're f e e l i n g W I T H I N"

"--Right B E N E A T H--" Warning: Contains spoiler for Yoh vs Faust {O.G. Series} - The fight is a bit graphic, (no actual blood in this ver. but) Please be careful watching by the middle. (There is a happy end however!)

By Me {DO NOT RE-PRODUCE OR RE-UPLOAD WITHOUT MY PERMISSION} M U S I C (C) L.i.n.k.i.n P.a.r.k}