#i tried so hard to love :(

[corrodedparadox]

⚠️

[iwasbored777]

Me when Logan was about to walk away in the end and Wade was like "Logan 🥺" and that's all it took for him to stay... Y'all I can't they love each other so much 😭

[gatoburr0]

Squids with guns.

[crumb-crumblet-s-crumbington]

"You and me, Ethan. Together we go save Rose, and then we can grind Miranda into paste!"

[5ummit]

We’re Harkonnens. So this is how we’ll survive. By being Harkonnens.

[egophiliac]

Wait, the tsun event has a whole bit dedicated to Malleus bragging about what kitchen appliances he knows how to use? Twst EN just got the milk culinary crucible, which means at the same time Malleus is showing off, the entirety of the EN players are learning Leona doesn't know how to use a microwave. The timing really just makes it feel like Malleus is flexing on Leona XD

it's in Mal's card story rather than in the event proper, but yep! after teaching his tsum proper microwave usage, he takes it on a tour and very proudly shows off his extensive knowledge of household appliances. (except when he thinks his tsum fell into the washing machine and doesn't know how to unlock the lid, so he just. explodes it instead. hashtag just diasomnia things. 🤷)

I do think he and Leona should get into a fight about who has done a better job of learning how to use kitchen tools! Leona has the advantage of having grown up in the modern world, but Malleus has the motivation to actually do literally anything. who will win

[morganbritton132]

Continuing a bit from this

Because that was a fluke, right?

Steve Harrington sat at their lunch table, asked a bunch of questions, and took notes as some sort of prank, right? It’s never going to happen again. Right?

But he’s there again today (“Fucking hell”) sitting at their table, waving them over when he spots them like, “I was thinking about that depression filter you told me about. Makes no sense.”

“It’s, uh…” Jeff tries, accepting Steve’s offered applesauce. “It’s a perception filter.”

“Ohhh, that makes more sense.”

Steve opens his notebook, marks something out, and writes over it. He looks up like, “About this guy Griffon.”

And that’s how it goes. Steve asks questions. They provide answers. They realize that Steve must have some hearing loss in his left ear and adjust to that. Steve cracks a joke they don’t understand and adjusts to them, and it’s…fun.

Gareth accidentally elbows Steve in the ribs and Steve winces hard because his ribs are still fucked up from the fight. They all think this is over now and things will go back to normal but Steve…apologizes?? For being weird??? To weirdos?

“Oh, god,” Jeff says after lunch, watching Steve and Grant walk off in the same direction. “We have to keep him.”

Gareth sighs, “Eddie is going to hate this.”

[tiniest-hands-in-all-the-land]

Carry me home

[yakovski]

You don't get it..... I wish you would get it.....

[arcanegifs]

ARCANE LEAGUE OF LEGENDS: 2x05 - “Blisters and Bedrock” ↳ "My family archives have shed light on many of city's mysteries. One such mystery caught my attention. The curious dismissal of a revered academy alchemist. Unparalleled, by all accounts. And no mention of his crime."

[milkbreadtoast]

My baby brother...☺️🤏💖

[sunriseabram]

I think Andrew's desperation to live is a little overlooked in the fandom. It's not explicitly stated in the books, other than his SH scars, but I honestly think it is so important to understanding him and his motivations.

Did Andrew ever plan to live past graduation? Before Kevin came along and promised his life would have worth? Did he plan on disappearing when Aaron eventually walked away from him? Believing nobody would notice if he was gone?

He clung on purely for Aaron, to make sure Aaron had a bright future ahead and could go live without him. To make sure that Nicky could go back to Erik without worry.

Before Neil, Andrew didn't believe he had anything to live for. He made a very one sided deal with Kevin to find something, anything, to build his life around after graduation, believing his brother would leave him alone once again.

Because at the heart of it all, Andrew doesn't want to die. Not really.

Andrew has chronic depression and he is suicidal. He sits on the edges of roof tops to feel. He puts his life on the line again and again with little regard for his own safety. He makes promises that put him at a severe disadvantage.

His promises are what keeps him alive, what forces him to live. Dying would break his promise, and Andrew has suffered enough from broken promises.

He doesn't want to die. He wants to survive those who beat him down. He wants to move on. He wants to get better. He wants to live.

He just doesn't know how.

[idolomantises]

Hot take? This feels like a design downgrade

[seiwas]

cw: pro-hero bakugo, reader has boobs, kind of explicit/nsfw? idk i describe boobs, reader is smaller and shorter than bakugo, unedited sawry

bakugo's muscle tee looks as ill-fitting as it'll ever be draped over you.

there are reasons for this, perfectly founded and logical reasons for why that is—the main one being that, it's, well, his; two, maybe even three sizes larger than what it should be to fit you properly.

but, he can't stop staring, and there are reasons for that too—the main one being that, it's his, and yet, the only way he can ever imagine it now is when it's being worn by you.

your hips sway to the song you've been humming for the past five minutes. it's the same one, the chorus on a perpetual loop. he's sure it's the only part you know; you do this often enough that it's the only part he knows now, too.

the hem of his tee hits right at the top of your thighs, concealing just enough to tease, but he’s confident that if you reach up even the slightest bit for the cupboard overhead, there'll be nothing to hide.

he feels a little bit like a creep like this, watching as he stands in the middle of your shared living room, but it's impossible too look away—you've got to be doing this on purpose, right?

heat flares inside of him when you turn your body ever so slightly, the armhole of his muscle tee large enough to give him the clearest view of skin—

he gulps.

it's smooth, sloping just right; the side view of your under boob curves into its perfect shape and he can imagine it, feel—

(is this considered perving if he's been with you for years?)

the pan in front of you sizzles as you plop in god knows what. you pour in something from the side and wait, one hand propped on the hip you pop out. then, you pick up the pan, attempting to flip what's inside (probably a pancake, now that he thinks about it).

it’s hard to focus on what you’re cooking though, especially when all he sees is plump flesh jiggling, bouncing as you further agitate the pan.

he just got the pants of this suit readjusted, and now they're fucking tight.

bakugo normally runs hot; it’s kind of part of his dna. but this warmth is different, flushing him from head to toe. it creeps up the side of his neck, painting the tips of his ears a blooming red.

you turn around then, plopping the pancake on the plate atop the counter behind you.

"oh! you're done," you greet him with a smile. so. fucking. casually.

as if your tits aren't fucking peaking against the gray fabric of his tee.

as if you think he buys the fake innocence poorly concealing that sly, conniving look in your pretty eyes.

as if you aren't standing in front of him in his muscle tee, wearing nothing underneath it like you didn’t do this on purpose. like you don’t know what it fucking does to him.

his eyes squint suspiciously, deep vermillion staring straight into yours.

you tilt your head, the tips of your lashes kissing the top of your cheekbones as you blink. you reach for a bottle of honey.

“everything okay?” you ask, voice syrupy, sickeningly sweet.

your movements play in front of him languidly, the corner of your lips curling up slightly as you smirk. honey catches on your finger as you pop open the bottle cap.

he’s supposed to be out the door in five minutes if he wants to make it in time for a meeting at the agency. technically, he should already be there if he wants to keep up his track record of consistently being fifteen minutes too early.

but you start to approach him, rounding the kitchen island. there’s a narrow space between him and the slab of marble, but you slide into it like it was made for you.

he’s certain it was, from the way the tip of your nose brushes against his as you tiptoe. your tits are right fucking there, brushing against the skintight material of his suit.

there’s too much fucking fabric if you ask him, between cotton and spandex.

your grin widens, and he feels hot, the heat from his cheeks radiating.

then you whisper, still saccharine, “breakfast is ready,” before kissing him on the lips lightly. a short peck, soft in the way that promises more before you slip away, giggling in your retreat.

he huffs, watching you leave. his feet shift as he thinks.

five minutes, huh?

like hell he’s going to eat these damn pancakes for breakfast today.

[ryllen]

d a m n , i t ' s ' i ' ... not 'we' i guess everybody can perish now

[madscientistreaction]

cool guy with a sword