#how can you not love this man? <3< /div> Explore tagged Tumblr posts

[johnbassplayercutie]

"You think my new heart will love you as much as my old one?"

[tsuutarr]

Yandere! Love God x Reader

Soulmates do not always meet in every lifetime. Sometimes, a person may become a bird that soars the skies while their soulmate becomes a fish that swims the depths of the sea. Other times, a person may become a little flower in a field while their soulmate becomes a large cactus in a desert. More often than not, the stars must align for soulmates to meet in a single lifetime.

You, however, are the exception. You will meet your soulmate in every lifetime for as long as your soul exists.

After all, your soulmate is the God of Love, an immortal being that ensures that you will meet in every single lifetime. 

It doesn’t matter if you’re a little plant, an animal, or a human – he’ll always find you and love you. When you’re not there by his side, he patiently waits for the glow of your soul to return to the mortal realm.

It’s become a pattern of his, a habit. When you leave his side due to your life’s candle burning out, his world will be drowned in grayscale and monotony. He goes about his days without much care for anything, his duty taking the forefront of his mind.

But when you reincarnate, your soul colors his world with his love for you, brightening up his days. To him, it doesn’t matter what you are, just that you are – that you exist. Your existence takes the forefront of his mind, his body, his soul. He devotes everything to you for as long as he can, eager to dye you in his colors in every one of your lifetimes.

It doesn’t matter that you don’t remember him – he’ll remember for the both of you, filling pages and pages with his memories of you. It doesn’t matter that he has to start all over again in every single lifetime – he’ll gladly fill you with his love for you over and over again. Because, to him, you go beyond just being his world – you’re his universe.

So, for most people, the stars must align for soulmates to meet in a single lifetime. But for you, your soulmate forces the stars to collide so that he can draw your constellation next to his again and again for the rest of eternity. 

[isjasz]

Remember, there is always a great big beautiful tomorrow.

[themisterhip]

I'm still down bad for him, that'll never change.

[mblue-art]

BAD SANSUARY // [29] glow for owl-bones's event !

pov u attacked the little error doll he gave u w/ sooo many smoochies and he felt all of it

alt. vers. under the cut !

[starry-bi-sky]

Clone^2 - Separation Strikes

"Why do I have to go?" Damian asks, surly and accent-thick, it sounds more like a demand and a whine at the same time. Sitting on the kitchen table with his arms crossed, in a green t-shirt that Danny bought him at a whim when he was at a thrift shop, and black shorts, he's never looked more like a kid. There's a little backpack leaning against the table leg, Damian begrudgingly picked it out when they went shopping.

His English has grown in leaps and bounds since Danny found him -- er, or more accurately; since Damian was spat out in front of him. -- and very little did they have to use the translator on Danny's phone these days.

Which meant one thing: Damian can start attending school comfortably now. And 'go' was the Amity Smiles Child Care Center. Danny and Jazz went as kids until they were twelve, and Mom and Dad actually managed to convince the center director to let Damian enroll for the summer.

And it was summer; Damian starts today.

"Because," Danny says, trying and failing to hide the smile pulling on his face, his heart warm and soft, and also laughing at Damian's expense; "being cooped up in the house all day isn't good for you, and you're starting school in the Fall. And, in Jazz's words: you need to have interactions with other kids your age for the benefit of your social development. And besides, it's only for the morning."

Damian's nose scrunches up, and his eyes roll so violently that for a moment, Danny thinks about joking that he'll get his eyes stuck like that. He holds his tongue; his little brother already looks like he's five seconds away from committing an act of violence.

"I don't need social interaction." Damian sneers, his cheek in his hand; a neverend pool of pride. "I am--"

"The Blood of the Demon Heir, better than everyone else." Danny cuts off, waving his hand in dismissive circles, his voice mockingly deep. Damian's brown skin darkens in embarrassment, and he scowls at Danny. "I know, bud. But Jazz is right, -- don't tell her I said that, -- you should be around kids your age."

Especially when he starts First Grade in the Fall. Honestly -- Danny was a little nervous to send him to the center. Damian's long since cut the habit of trying to kill or otherwise maim people, his palms ache-burn with gentle reminder, but his tongue was as sharp and as cutting as his sword. He still struggles with trying to quell it when he's upset. Vicious child-weapon that he once was, and will never be again.

Danny knows that it comes from a place of fear and defense, that Damian lashes out because that's what he's been taught. That at the end of the day, he doesn't really mean what he says, and he's learning to express himself better. But the other kids don't know that, and kids can be unforgiving and cruel.

Danny just...

His slow beating heart sighs, melancholy settles behind his lungs.

He doesn't want Damian to be outcasted. He doesn't want him to be alone.

Not like he was.

Damian sneers again, but says nothing, his shoulders crawling up to hide his ears like a turtle receding into his shell. Danny watches him silently, leaning against the kitchen counter with his own arms crossed. The clock hanging on the wall ticks in their ears -- it's almost time to go.

He watches Damian, careful, and so he sees it when his little brother's stone-shell pride and petulance shudders, and cracks. The darkened furrow of Damian's brows weakens, and for a moment, slants back.

Ah, Danny thinks, his own shoulders slumping. Epiphany washes over him, and his sad-heart soothes in warm understanding. So that's what it is.

His head tilts, and his hair spills over his shoulders, messy and fluffy, tickling his neck. Some of his bangs fall into his face. "Hal 'ant easabiatan ya habibi?" He asks, voice low and soft. Just as Damian's English has improved, so has Danny's Arabic. He still stumbles over himself some days, and Damian says his accent is trash, but they can have whole conversations now in Damian's mothertongue.

(Danny was incredibly proud of himself for it.)

Damian's face darkens, his blush spreading across the rest of his face, and he ducks his head down. Grown-out curls, black-brown and springy, falls over his eyes. "La!" He yells, loud and indignant, and not at all convincingly. "La 'asheur bialtawaturi!"

He was nervous. Danny can see it now, in the hunch of his shoulders and the tightness of his face, and faintly, he can feel it too. In the ecto-rich air of the Fentonworks House, it thrums, barely-there, like a hummingbird behind his lungs.

Danny can't stop the little, fond smile that forces itself across his lips and upticks the corner of his mouth. "It's okay to be nervous, little brother." He says, he sounds like Jazz when he says that. He doesn't think she'll mind him borrowing the nickname.

He pushes himself off the counter, and Damian refuses to look at him, hiding behind his hair and in his shoulders. It takes three long strides for him to reach the table, and Danny turns, plants his hands on the ledge, and hoists himself up. Right next to Damian.

Damian leans into him easily when Danny's arm wraps around his shoulders and tucks him close to his heart. He can feel his ear against his ribs. Danny hunches over him, resting his chin on Damian's head. "It's so okay to be nervous, actually. I was nervous, Jazz was nervous." He tells him, scratching the blunt edge of his nails across his scalp. "Everyone gets nervous."

"'Ana last aljumiea." Damian mumbles, as small and feeble as he was the night on the OPS Center balcony, realizing that his mom and the League weren't coming for him. Realizing that he was replaceable.

Danny's half-working heart squeezes; in grief, in rage, and his faucet eyes sting. He breathes in carefully, and presses his nose into Damian's hair in a loving faux-kiss. "You're right, you're not everyone." He says, steady and strong, because if he's not a pillar for his family, who else is he?

He can feel Damian's eyes flick up to him, and Danny smiles into his black-brown curls. Tilts his head to squish his cheek against him instead, hand dropping to thumb below Damian's lashes. "You're Damian Fenton," Because the adoption went through a few weeks ago, and he's still riding that high, "You're my baby brother. O' Artist Extraordinaire, Kickass with a Sword, Vegetarian and Wonderful Co-Ghost Hunter."

Damian tries to stifle a smile, and fails. Score! Triumph gathers in Danny's gut, his smile grows wider. He squeezes Damian tight, and only releases him so he can look him in the eyes. "And if anyone gives you a hard time at school, and I mean anyone--"

Danny has bad memories of the teachers looking the other way when the other kids were bullying him, all because he was a Fenton.

And Danny, bleeding heart, bleeding hands, loves his family more than he will ever love himself, will never let Damian experience the same injustice. Not if he can help it.

His eyes narrow, and the buzzy-film of ectoplasm covers his eyes, making them glow, "--You tell me. And as your awesome great big brother-and-technically-dad-but-only-biologically, I will handle it."

Damian, wonderfully made, full of light, his little brother Damian, giggles weakly at him. A sound that's worth it's weight in gold. The scary eyes dissipate, and Danny matches the sound with a cock-eyed, impish grin, dragging Damian into a soul-crushing, too-tight hug. The kind that only annoying older brothers can give. "Got it?"

That gets a proper, if short, laugh out of Damian. He wriggles in Danny's arms, trying to break free. But Danny does calisthenics, his arms are as big as Damian's head, so it doesn't work. "Understood, now, daeni 'adhhab ya 'akhi!"

Danny laughs, loud and bright, and loosens his hold just a smidge, only so he can adjust his grip and hop off the table with Damian still in arm.

"Never!" He crows, hoisting Damian slightly. One eye flick at the clock, and in one quick move, he secures Damian under one arm like a football, and hooks his foot under the strap of his backpack. Kicking it up, he tosses it into the air and catches it with his free hand, and slings it over his shoulder. "Now, to the car, my boy! Before we're late and Mom and Dad get charged."

Damian groans, childish and dramatic and long, but his face is all squished up with a wide grin and glee. Danny can taste his joy beneath his tongue.

"And, if my little pep talk didn't encourage you," He says, reaching the door to the garage, flipping Damian up onto his hip instead. "If you have a good day today, I'll make you bal mithai when you get back."

Like all kids at the promise of sweets, Damian's eyes widen and glitter. Danny loves seeing Damian be a kid, it's his favorite thing in the world. "I will!"

[pineappical]

a whole bunch of teds (and beard) doodles ive been accumulating from the server

[laurents-secret-diary]

oh damen we're really in it now.mp4

[lorebird]

In which Ford struggles so badly to relate to other people that he wonders if he’s really human at all. The more isolated he becomes, the harder it is to reconcile with his own humanity.

[uncanny-tranny]

Something that amuses me between knitters and crocheters is this... almost humble nature each craft has about the other. I couldn't imagine how one would knit, and I know some of the basics - and yet, I have met so many knitters who say crochet is impossible, and yet I find it to be so simple. There's just something charming about when one recognizes just how much skill, effort, patience, and care go into a craft, and to be humbled by just how incredible human ingenuity and creativity are

[opal-owl-flight]

So theres an arc I have where 4 becomes the new captain while 3s down after the Biggest Run, right. The Cap4 arc focuses on 4s efforts to investigate the strange changes happening to the salmonid migration patterns via infiltrating Grizzco.

Epic the musical’s songs are one HELL of a way to tell the tale, even if its not one to one!! Since the Wisdom saga releases in 3 days Im going to be drawing up one scene per song and how it would play out in the Cap4 arc :)

[helaelaemond]

Dragons Abroad - Aemond x lover!reader

Rating: Universal

Category: Angst

Pairing: Aemond x you

Set prior to Rook's Rest

Words: 1k

"There are dragons abroad."

You look at him. Across the table you sit from him and watch him. Around you, he is bare. No shirt, no breeches, no eye patch. Falsehoods gone, inhibitions left at the door. Yet his gaze avoids yours now. "So there are."

His voice is a quiet mumble. "I must go to meet them."

"I think that is not true," you reply. You look down at your hands and try not to pick at the skin around your fingers. Scabs make it sore already.

"I wish to meet them."

"That is true," comes your soft reply.

"And our time together is ended."

"Another falsehood." The words are confident, despite the ice in your chest. Frosted steel has pierced you between your ribs and into your very heart.

Aemond glances up. His fingers drum lightly on the wooden table. So many meals you shared with him here in the sanctity of his rooms. "I cannot take you with me."

"I never asked you to. I only ask that you come home to me."

"That, I cannot promise."

"Then promise what you can."

He opens his mouth to reply, but words fail him. He retreats into his comfortable silence. Prince Aemond leans into you when you stand and cradle him into you. He wraps his arm around your back and presses his face into your stomach as he sits in his chair and you stand at his side. The touch against his hair is welcomed, and he leans into your hand when you run it down his scarred cheek.

"I can promise nothing," he murmurs after a long time.

'You can promise to come home to me."

"I might not return. If I do, I do not know what will be left."

"I'll take whatever there is."

Aemond sighs your name and you go to pull away, but his strong arm around you does not loosen. And so you allow yourself to stroke his hair again. Part of him melts against you. The blade in your heart does not warm.

"I will destroy my enemies out there. I will paint the skies with fire and blood and-"

"That is all very noble," you interrupt softly. "But it will not make you whole."

You look down at him and see his face twitch. "I'm not a knight from one of your stories. I will not be the gallant hero you so desire."

It happens without you thinking, really. You sink to your knees in front of him. It would be folly to think it would make him smile this time, like it so often does. A place of worship before him. Now a place to beg. "I don't want a knight on his horse to come and save me. I just want you. As you are. Please."

"Do not beg."

"Please, Aemond, please don't make this the end, pl-"

"This is not becoming of a-"

"Please. Please, please." Your voice is steady but you can feel your throat beginning to close. "I am good for you."

And the fierce, stoic, hard Prince Aemond looks at you on your knees, utterly soft and warm, and his brow creases. "You are," he replies, oh so gently.

"I make you feel good."

He nods, head tilted to the side. "You do."

"I make you happy."

And he nods again. "I will not destroy you. I must leave you."

You lean up and try to kiss him, but he turns so you catch his cheek. It is only then that you realise your hands and his are grasped tightly. They have come out in a cold sweat. Strange, you think. He is never clammy.

You press your forehead to his temple. Some of your tears fall onto his pale cheek. "If you leave me, I will be destroyed. I can weather any storm but this."

You feel his jaw clench. A thousand words fall silent on his lips.

"Please."

Suddenly, his hands wrench from yours and then you feel them, strong and damp, on either side of your head. Your eyes open as he pulls you closer, closer, and you think yes! Yes, he understands! He will leave but come back to me! Yes-!

But your lips are not granted a kiss. Instead, a long kiss is pressed to your forehead. It is tight and hard and full of agony. It is farewell.

After it is ended, he has little left to say.

"I will wait for you, you know."

He watches while you move back to the other side of the table, while you smile sadly at him.

"If you want me to."

"I do not."

But his denial is not one that makes you sad. For anyone else, he might be cruel. But for you, he cannot bring himself to do that. There is only honesty between you, both kind and cutting.

"Do you wish to be with me?" you ask one final time.

Aemond cannot lie to you. Not after all the beauty you have shared, not after all the ways you have grown to know one another. Not after all the true and deep love between you. "I do," he says slowly. "More than almost anything."

"What do you wish for more than that?"

He sighs quietly. "To keep you safe."

"To force me to be free will not keep me safe from anything."

"It will" he insists gently. "You shall be safe from me."

Despite the agony in you, you can still force a smile. For him, always for him. "That is not safety. That is a fate worse than death."

"Worse than what I could be?"

"Worse than you could ever become. The worst you could be, Aemond, is gone."

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

MDZS Disco Elysium AU part 2 - Psyche Skills

Part 1 - Part 3

[jeeaark]

final showdown pt2.

This was one of those battles where I survived it without a single reload. So. This entire scene? Accurate. Embarrassingly Accurate. (except the healy dealy. that's Greygold flair)

Wanted to get to the crown as fast as possible, but had to fly by Emps. Literally stopped next to bud to personally yell/reassure the fool I was gonna save their ass and then risked the opportunity attack.

(which. I forgot to bring my dex 18 gloves and discovered illithidism had shit dex, so....IS FINE. GG IS ALL FOR STARTING A NEW COLLECTION OF FRIENDSHIP SCARS)

BUT SQUID BUDDY MISSED. so. I like to think Enthralled Emps had put some effort into jumping through some rather large logic hoops to miss. Unlike Greygold who put JACK effort into dodging.

I originally intended to leave Emps completely alone, risk the attacks. But. Brain tentacle surprise happened. Right next to the squid. Emps rolled high in initiative.... But not as high as Lae'zel. Game-wise, ✨I panicked✨. Story-wise? I don't think this could have been any more in-character. Albeit, I found myself quadruple checking to make sure knockout mode was ABSOLUTELY on

[afterlife-2004]

[cementcornfield]

Did you see the clip of Joe yesterday?

Is it a clip now? Oh lord....was it funny at least?

It was the first time he ever used the F word in a conference.

He cursed? Y'all lying...I be trying to get him to curse, he don't curse when I'm talking to him...