#had to share hehe

[chrisbangs]

5star streaming pcs 😁

[luna-loveboop]

I love Malon.

She sees a face she likes

And she grabs it

It's a love language! She grabs the faces she likes. There's so many times it happened- like every time she was showing affection.

To anyone

Of any species

If you are near Malon and she likes your face it will be grabbed, sorry

She's gonna be such a great mother

Time is not immune, as her husband he signed up for it

Art and comic by Jojo @linkeduniverse au!

[reksink]

Beloved Residents of Dirtmouth (And Quirrel 👍)

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn���t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[fatedroses]

More than just the Demon.

[sxcret-garden]

Who in ateez...

...would make you listen to their own music during sex, putting a handpicked few of atz's songs on repeat and turning it into a game. A game where you're only allowed to cum to his voice, and if you happen to tumble over the edge at any of the other seven's parts, he'll immediately stop touching you, leaving you with nothing but the empty feeling of a ruined orgasm. And he wouldn't make this easy on you either, cause he's fucking you so good, and how are you even supposed to make an attempt at keeping your composure when he already knows your body and mind like the back of his own hand, touching you in all the right places and whispering all the most perfectly dirty things in your ear as he has you whimpering underneath him, desperately trying to bite back your high that's about to overwhelm you. And of course it's not his voice that resounds in your ears when control slips away from you, and tears start to well up in your eyes because he really did mean it when he had told you in advance that he'd punish you for cumming at anyone's part but his own... but his hands won't stay off you for long, soon easing you into his pace and making you needy for that sweet release all over again, because you can be sure he isn't gonna stop until he's heard you scream his name over his voice on the recording at least once or twice

[flowerakatsuka]

guess those feelings are gonna stay unrequited, huh? — ( feat. @laurzvahll's sol! )

[lion-buddy]

happy one year of being real guys. prim and puka have had a huge impact on me and continue to bring me lots of happiness, and I’m glad I get to share that excitement with other ppl. stay cool guys

[peskyfirefly]

COLORING BY: @bokunocolor

thank u so much for coloring this panel!! 🥺

[karleksmumskladdkaka]

RukiYui (+Mukami fam) scans from the Vandead Carnival Official Fanbook (*´ω｀)♡

Spoilers for Ruki's route below!

[someawkwardnerd]

the end of the end

[astrobei]

the scene from acswy that thea has lovingly dubbed the “shorty short shorts scene”

(his feet are propped up on a chair btw. i just didn’t want to draw the chair.)

[verysmallcyborg]

[ TALES OF LOSS AND FIRE AND FAITH ] Our journey has been worthwhile. We are a union of hearts.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY @oneiroy!!!!! to such a lovely friend that i'm so happy to have in my life, and that i appreciate and cherish with every fibre of my being <3 (a set based off of one of many moments that fornax and ryss have had together during their adventures)

[sysig]

Softly, slowly, I want to love you anyway (Patreon)

[rockoblanco]

got my first tat :p

[musouie]

𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐓𝐀’𝐒 2024 𝐇𝐀𝐋𝐋𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐄𝐍

𝐅𝐑𝐎𝐌 𝐋𝐄𝐅𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓: levi ackerman x letta (levtta), choso kamo x letta (choetta), simon riley x letta (lemon)

♱ 𝒍𝒆𝒗𝒕𝒕𝒂:

levi’s waiting for you at the kitchen table by the time you make it downstairs. his slender fingers drum against the polished wood, to the beat of a song you can’t remember, and when he registers your presence his dark brows lift —

— his version of a smile.

“you look decent,” he murmurs, eyes slowly trailing up your body, lingering in places that made your breath catch. if it were anyone else, you’d be offended, scoffing around a “what is that supposed to mean?”

but levi isn’t just anyone. and you know that though he may seem displeased — unimpressed or disinterested— his fragile heart beat frantically behind his ribcage, in a twisted pursuit to jump from his chest.

knowing this, your response comes lightly. “you don’t look too bad yourself, mr. ackerman.”

his fingers stutter. “well, mrs. ackerman, all the credit goes to you. this was your idea, after all.”

you shuffle closer, and his eyes glint as you make your way to him, legs uncrossing as the smile on your face grows devilish. “oh no, i can’t take credit just yet.”

he hums bemusedly.

“your outfit isn’t quite completed.”

his brows knit together as he peers up at you through delicate, inky feathers. “it…isn’t?”

you shake your head, bangs ruffling as you do so. “you’re missing quite the essential accessory, ‘vi. i’m nearly disappointed.”

his lips part but quickly clamp shut as you fish through your handbag, pushing chapstick, jewellery, and makeup to the side before you find what you were looking for — pulling it out with a gasp.

“here!” you hold a headband up to him, one with animal ears and fur on the top. before he can protest, you settle atop his lap and place it on his head, grinning when his lips thin into a line. “oh, now i’ll take credit for this.”

he grumbles all the way to the car, complaining about how silly he looks and the fact that his cadets won’t take him seriously after such a display. he makes no move to remove it, though.

♱ 𝒄𝒉𝒐𝒆𝒕𝒕𝒂:

choso frowns at himself in the mirror, thin brows bunching together as he pouts.

“do i look okay?”

you turn to him, eyes flitting across his face caked with cheap stage makeup. you reach a finger out to tuck a stray strand of hair back. “yeah, nothing’s smudged if that’s what you were worried about.”

his frown deepens. “no, i mean do i look okay. i don’t look too…” he glances to the side before his eyes snap back to you. “…too scary right?”

you smile softly. “that’s the whole point of tonight, cho’”

he nods, as though he anticipated your answer and already swallowed it. “i know but-i look scary every other day of the year because of my scar.” He points to his nose. “i just want to make sure it’s not so…bad today.”

your hands find his, and without thinking, you murmur, “you look fine, cho’. and really, what’s so bad about being scary? means i get to keep you all to myself.”

the man’s ears turn poppy-red when he registers what you said, eyes glued to yours longingly, lips trembling.

♱ 𝒍𝒆𝒎𝒐𝒏:

“this lil’ getup makes me feel silly,” simon mutters beneath his breath, forefinger tugging at the collar of his dress shirt. his eyes catch yours in the mirror, softening for a second, before his lips pull into a frown.

“but you look cute, si.” you close the distance between you both, pressing your chest to his broad, muscled back as your hand glides up his corded arm. “why don’t you like it?”

“‘cos of that shite film.” his hands move to his tie now, wrapping it about itself. “who th’ hell is gonna give up th’ love of their life for bloody music? makes no fuckin’ sense — pisses me off just thinkin��� ‘bout it, dressin’ up like some daft tosser.”

you let out a breathy laugh as your chin finds purchase in the crook of his neck. “he had two loves, baby. one just wasn’t tangible, that’s all.”

“still bollocks.”

with a shake of your head and a soft, low huff of laughter, you wind your fingers through his low-cut hair, giving his sideburns a gentle rake of your fingernails as he attempts the tie again. his sigh, more of an aggravated grunt, comes just in time, his body slumping slightly, muscles relaxing against the softness of yours.

“but yer dress is cute, luvie, makes it bearable.”