#if you saw me post this earlier no you didn't

[fansids]

Genetics do be crazy like that sometimes

[secriden]

I always love your posts about THK and your recently pinned post and another one about Style yearning for skinship are just *chef's kiss*. So thank you for your analysis!

I saw some comments on tumblr that Style was acting as if he's sad and playing Fadel and I just could NOT agree, so I was glad to see your post. My opinion on Style's crying scene is I don't think Style meant to cry at first, but his emotions sort of overwhelmed him while he was talking. I think he definitely uses his cheerful disassocation with reality to deal with fear and he was just going to tell his message to his dad just in case, perhaps in a more lighthearted way, but he remembered about his mom and the reality of potential death hit him fully because his mother's death must be the closest death he'd experienced in his life. And when Fadel asked him if he was crying he just said Duh and wasn't fully crying, but after Fadel told him to stop the sob story, he turned back and the tears really started flowing. When I saw that I could really relate to him because that's how I usually act too- act nonchalant to hide my real feelings. Style wasn't planning to get emotional and then got mocked for it - and he was also denied his s*xual advances/skinship earlier too- that must've felt really hurtful to him.

As much as the scene hurts, I'm glad to see this was not cut because even cheerful, positive people like Style really gets down sometimes and people don't really understand this, even in real life! I was kind of like this when younger and had some people tell me they can't imagine me feeling sad or nervous. So seeing Style's rare serious and emotional side in the story is really made me kind of acknowledged? When I started watching this show, I didn't think I would get this attached to this character. He's like a ray of sunshine, very pure in his beliefs and quite fiercely loyal too (might be weird to say when he was complicit but he is actually loyal to both Kant and Fadel to the best of his ablities IMO) and the actor/Dunk is absolutely killing this role! Not just the crying scene in this episode, but Dunk's comedic timing in delivering the one liners is SO GOOD he manages to make me laugh every single episode so far.

Lovely anon, oh thank you for sharing so vulnerably about how you related to Style in that scene. I really agree with you that Style wasn't putting on an act to fool Fadel. I'm very surprised to hear that anyone still thinks Style is playing Fadel at this point?? O_O I don't think anything he does this episode is an act anymore -- even when he propositions Fadel with a shirt tossed into his face, there's clear and genuine intent behind it:

There's so much going on in this look. The gentle fondness as he gazes back at Fadel, the way the look seeks to communicate affection even as Fadel is glaring back in anger and frustration. But there's acceptance too, like he understands why Fadel is keeping his walls up, he understands why Fadel feels he deserves some of this harshness and he will let Fadel take the time he needs to come to whatever conclusions he wants to as long as Fadel does so with the understanding that Style's love for him is genuine.

Because at the end of the day the only thing Style really doesn't want is for Fadel to make his choice (to forgive or to cut Style off) thinking that Style's feelings are still a lie. I think that's the crux of the problem between them now: Fadel is pushing Style away because he is certain Style’s feelings aren’t true, and have never been true, but Style knows his own heart and understands the fundamental shift inside him that occurred over the course of their relationship.

Which is why I think Style is genuine in everything he’s showing Fadel now. Even if he didn’t mean to cry, I think his worry for his dad is very real. And I think the reason why he brings it up with Fadel is that Style is done hiding anything from him now. It’s not about manipulation, nor is it an attempt to make Fadel feel guilty. But he's taking everything Fadel is giving to him incredibly seriously and part of that is facing the possibility that Fadel may decide to kill him at the end after all. And that's... scary; hell its terrifying and heartbreaking and Style has understandable guilt related to how losing him after losing his mother is going to affect his dad.

And actually what you're saying about "cheerful and positive people like Style" also sometimes feeling down is such an important aspect of understanding Style's character. Because we can only really understand the weight of Style’s love for Fadel if we see him in all his multifaceted complexity: Style has suffered, Style understands the pain of loss but has learned to find joy in his life in the process of dealing with his mother’s passing. Styles cheerfulness and positively is not a sign of his immaturity or lack of complexity but rather evidence of a inner strength and determination to find meaning in life beyond the sadness. After my dad passed, it took me nearly 4 years to even get to a point where I began to want to want to find pockets of happiness. There was so much about me at the time time bound up in my feelings of loss and sadness and the ache of missing my dad, the unfairness of it all. Style is-- Style is so very precious to me.

And something I found really poignant is how Fadel and Style have such opposing methods of dealing with grief and fear. Fadel hides from it, runs from it, builds up walls and remains ever vigilante so he'll never be vulnerable again, while Style faces his grief and his fear head on. Style takes his fear out and holds it in the palm of his hand and in the process - like you said - maybe found himself more overwhelmed then he expected, but he allows himself the space to cry because he also sees that its important in the moment. And he invites Fadel into that vulnerability with him. That's insane to me -- Style's love for Fadel means that even when Fadel has a gun to his head and is the source of his fear, Fadel is always orientated on the INSIDE to Style.

To extend the allegory, the difference between them is that Fadel's love made him invite Style inside his walls as an outsider, but Style's love makes Fadel already part of him. Fadel doesn't need an invitation because at no point in episode 8 did Style ever treat Fadel as anything but an extension of his own heart.

So yeah, I'm so with you about being grateful for the scene. I think it maybe could have been shot differently (for instance, I kind of wish they'd just let Dunk do his thing and sell the moment without having that background music 180 degree shift), but I adore it for what it shows us about Style and the way he thinks and feels, and most of all the way Fadel is oriented in his heart.

[victoria-vd]

Everything

OFFSCREEN POST

// flash warning

Not even the warmth in Victoria's cheeks could combat the Mesagoza winter chill tonight.

The girls had fled the ball to a secluded little plaza off the eastern outskirts of the city. Looking above a lower section of the town, the fenced overlook provided a nice view of the city and everything beyond. Off into the distance, the eastern waterfall ceaselessly roared from afar, nothing more than a whisper from where they sat. Small outdoor tables and chairs adorned the outer edges of the courtyard, and a ring of lanterns illuminated the stone pathway around the miniature park, bathing the circular plaza in an unobtrusive orange glow.

Victoria crossed her arms and shivered in her seat. She'd offered Esper her jacket earlier— it was the chivalrous thing to do, after all— but she couldn't help but wish she had something better to face the January breeze than a white undershirt. But it is better for her to suffer the chill than Esper in her beautiful gown. And yes, "beautiful" was not a word that Victoria often used to describe anything, but she felt there was no better sense of the word than the girl seated across from her. She hadn't even needed to cast so much as a glance in her direction to know that the sparkling gold of her dress captured the lanterns' underglow perfectly, radiating a warmth like the sun even in the dark of night. She didn't need to check to see how her hair glistened in the moonlight like brilliant diamonds or how her eyes sparkled like iridescent pearls. She already knew.

And yet she looked anyway. Because Victoria never grew tired of the sight.

Esper pulled the jacket tighter around her, her cheeks a rosy pink. She caught Victoria's eye and nervously glanced away with a small smile.

The girl couldn't help but smile back at her. The moon and the stars above were the only company to witness their presence. Victoria couldn't help but wonder if her celestial friends felt a sense of deja vu at the scene.  "The moon is beautiful, isn't it?" she asked.

Her friend turned her gaze towards the sky with a hum. "It is, ya. I quite like waning gibbous... it's nice." Tori kind of reminds me of a waning gibbous.

The moon reminded her of...? Victoria snorted to herself in amusement. Of course Esp would think that. Some of her wanted to pry for her reasoning, but would it be too intrusive to respond to her thoughts rather than her spoken words? With careful consideration for wordplay, she decided to respond to both. "Any particular reason why?"

"Mmmm, no reason, really. I just think it's nice," Esper gently rocked her foot back and forth, giving no indication that she heard Victoria's snort. The bright part is Tori's face, the craters her freckles, and the shadow is like her bang, Esper thought to herself as she mentally traced the moon in her mind.

The girl gazed up at the sky, twirling the long bang of her hair around her finger as her cheeks grew warmer. She'd never considered that before, but now that Esper had mentally pointed it out… she couldn't see anything but. There truly was never a dull moment with her, was there? Esper always made her consider the world from a different perspective. With each and every thought in her mind, Victoria saw the world anew. She'd gladly discover it all again from Esper's eyes.

Her friend turned to her with a playful twinkle in her eye, "Well, since you now know my favorite moon phase, do you have a favorite?"

Victoria pondered it for a moment. She hadn't thought of having a favorite moon phase until this point. It'd never been a concern of hers. With a thoughtful hum, she mulled over the options, weighing the pros and cons of each phase. But she knew that trying to come up with an answer based on objective reasoning was futile— what Esper was looking for was heart. And in her heart, Victoria felt... "The new moon," she said, meeting her gaze. "A new moon symbolizes rebirth and renewal. It is the end of a cycle and the beginning of a new one. And in the absence of its light—" Victoria gestured to the sky, "—the stars dominate the night."

Esper nodded along, her eyes following Victoria's hand to look up at the stars. "The new moon is good. And it is nice that the stars get to shine brighter. It's like they're letting their friend rest and letting the moon know that they'll light up the night sky while it does so," the girl smiled warmly. The end and the beginning are always easier with help from those you love."

"So it is," the fool nodded. "So it is."

"And the sun helps the moon during all the other nights too..." Her friend sighed wistfully. "I like to think the moon is well loved... I hope it knows that too."

"I like to think it does," Victoria breathed. Looking up at her celestial mirror in the sky, she added, "Does the sun know it loves it back?"

Esper hummed in response, her hands absentmindedly drifting to pull Victoria's jacket tighter around her shoulders, "I'd like to think it does... during the quiet moments of dawn and dusk where they get to see each other for a few moments before the other dips beneath the earth... I think it does. Or at the very least it likes to think so."

Victoria's gaze fell back to her friend, and her breath caught in her throat. A quiet warmth seemed to hum in her chest, and her spirit rose like a song. The feeling danced in her heart and soul, and the thought dawned upon her: this was the Moment, wasn't it? When the time was right? Nothing had fundamentally changed, but she knew nonetheless. Her heart was filled with a mix of nervousness, anticipation, and a deep longing to express her feelings.

With the moon and the stars as her witness, Victoria would tell her Everything.

She took a deep breath, swallowing back the dread trying to claw her voice back into her throat. "Esper," she nearly croaked out, her heart pounding in her chest. "There's something that— that I'd like to confess." The air was thick with anticipation, and the moon and stars seemed to hold their breath, waiting for her words.

The girl in question turned her gaze to Victoria, her eyes full of curiosity, "Oh? What is it?"

"It's— It's about..." A sudden tightness seized the air in her lungs. "It's about you."

Esper blinked, her head tilting as she spoke, "Go on...?"

"Well, it's—" A growing sense of fear crept into Victoria's chest. The words tried to claw their way past her throat, but her teeth tried to silence her tongue. "It's more about me, but—" Her mouth felt dry and her jaw tense. "But it— It is in relation to you."

"It's okay," Esper tried to reassure her with a warm smile. Take your time." What could possibly have made her so nervous, the girl wondered to herself.

Everything, Victoria internally surmised. She shook her head, struggling to find the courage to speak. With a deep breath, she closed her eyes and tried to start with, "These past few weeks I—" but her lips sealed shut and a chill ran up her spine— a deep, primal instinct to retreat.

Her friend tilted her head at her sudden silence, patiently waiting for her to continue.

Swallowing back the nerves in her chest, Victoria tried to pry herself open once again. But every fiber of her being screamed for her to pull back. The individual ribs that guarded her heart threatened to snap shut like the fangs of a scared animal. Every muscle in her body shivered and tensed, desperate to flee. To fight. To freeze.

Her body refused to let itself bleed.

Esper furrowed her brows in worry, her voice soft as she spoke, "Hey, hey, if it's too much for you right now then you can try telling me another time...? Would that help....?"

Victoria shot out of her chair and slammed her hands on the table, shaking her head violently. No! It has to be today! She tried to open her mouth and force the words from her throat, but silence was the only thing to escape from her tongue. The corners of her eyes stung as she tried desperately to claw her way through the walls she had so carefully built around her heart. She had constructed them too well.

Frustrated, she gripped her hands into her hair and lowered her head. How was she supposed to say the words when they felt like knives in her throat? When she couldn't even bring herself to utter them in the confines of her own mind? When she felt as if she were taking talons to the flesh of her torso to expose the bleeding, beating heart within?

"Tori…?"

The girl peeked a pathetic glance at her friend from between the gap in her fingers. Esper deserved to hear the words. She deserved to know the full extent of her feelings. She deserved to know the Everything in her heart as much as words could describe.

Victoria didn't have the words for Everything.

But perhaps... she didn't need them.

Victoria slowly raised her head with a deep, long breath, finally gazing at Esper again. She wordlessly beckoned her friend to stand with her, holding out her hands to ask for hers.

And her friend listened, standing as she took Victoria's bare hands into her own with a confused smile.

A calm warmth flowed through her hands as skin met skin— there was Something on the other side. Something tranquil and familiar like sitting by the hearth on a cold winter night. Something fierce and powerful like a passionately raging wildfire. Something bittersweet like a nostalgic sepia memory, faded and burnt around the edges yet cherished all the same. Something impossibly bright like the sun in the sky, beaming down its heavenly divine light upon a land of white snow. Something beautifully paradoxical yet natural in its existence. There was a taste of Something.

Victoria's eyes met Esper's, a silent question behind them.

Esper simply nodded, her words quiet as she reassured Victoria, "Go on. I'm ready."

Victoria leaned her head forwards, pressed her forehead into hers....

When Victoria pulled back, the first thing she noticed was that tears were in Esper's eyes, threatening to spill down her crimson-red cheeks. Her friend was silent. Fear immediately gripped her heart. She ruined it. It was too much. Her vision began to blur, and she started to back away. She ruined everything. She was too much.

A tear rolled down Esper's face as a lopsided grin forced its way onto her lips. With breathless words, she said, "I love you."

Oh.

All Victoria could do was choke on a sob and nod. Even now, the words refused to escape her. So, instead, she gave Esper's hands three small squeezes.

Her friend's grin grew wider as she spoke, her voice shaking with something akin to warmth, "And you love me too..."

Swallowing her heart back into her throat, Victoria drew their hands closer to her and squeezed them again, giving her a slight, tentative nod.

"Can I... can I give you a hug?"

Victoria finally found enough of her voice to respond, "You— You may."

Esper wrapped her arms around Victoria, holding onto her tightly as she let out a giddy giggle. She then moved back and resumed holding Victoria's hands, a small nervous smile on her face, "Um– Well, uh, now what...?"

"I..." The girl looked down at their hands for a moment, then back up to look at Esper. "I don't... know..."

"Oh! Well! Uh– We... we could..." Esper glanced away from Victoria, her face growing impossibly red as she stuttered out, "We could try... being together... like... like dating..... maybe...... if you want.........."

Victoria couldn't stop the corners of her lips from turning upwards, nor the way her heart soared in her chest. "I'd— I wouldn't mind that."

"I wouldn't mind that either..." The other girl looked at Victoria sheepishly as she swayed back and forth, "I wouldn't mind being your girlfriend one bit..."

"So..." Victoria glanced off to the side and then back at Esper. "Perhaps... girlfriends?"

"Then I think that settles it," her girlfriend giggled. "Perhaps girlfriends."

Scene end.

[angelshipper]

saw your post about jpv in the tags and honestly. yeah the way bruce treats him makes me lose my mind. like DUDE. HELP HIM!!!

really i think why jpv doesn't go back to college and finish what he was doing is bc being batman long term during knightfall/knightquest/knightsend ruins his life (like, hallucinating st. dumas and his dead dad + calling himself nothing by the time bruce gets him out of the batsuit levels of life ruination) + he ends up homeless for an extended period of time.

i don't remember the issue off the top of my head, but i know there's a comic during dick's time as batman where some murder (or murders?? idk my memory's hazy lol) happens and he assumes it was azrael's doing because it's a similar M.O., and he visits him in the homeless shelter he's staying in, and jean-paul freaks out bc "you promised i'd be free" and that always made me sad when i think about it. :(

WHAT PLEASE TELL ME WHICH COMIC WHERE HE SEES DICK WAS BECAUSE THAT LEGITIMATELY MAKES ME FEEL SO MUCH WORSE FOR HIM

Honestly that makes a lot of sense why he doesn't go back to his old life.

Seriously in an earlier issue he was mentally so damaged, he didn't bother trying to escape a fire because he didn't think it was real :(( it was literally so sad seeing him just wrap himself with a blanket as the fire surrounded him and it just made me so much madder at Bruce bc he just didn't care about the bullshit he put Jean-Paul through. Like he knew JPV was mentally unstable and still gave him such a heavy burden because it's so obvious he saw JPV as more expendable than someone like Nightwing. Iirc his reasoning for not asking Dick, who was by far the best option for a replacement Batman, was how "Nightwing is his own person" like JPV wasnt???

[nereidprinc3ss]

like real people do

in which spencer gets home from a case and fem!reader is feeling extra clingy

fluff (18+ for nudity) warnings/tags: reader referred to as a girl, non-sexual nudity/intimacy (again....??...), if you have daddy issues you'll prob like it, i should try therapy, technically suggestive, not even one whiff of plot, just cute shit a/n: wrote about a heatwave because winter makes me crave death. kisses!

It was hot in LA, and it’s a different, muggier kind of hot back at Spencer’s apartment when he gets home at four in the morning. The plan is to take a quick shower without waking you and then pass out for ten hours, but as soon as he opens the bedroom door, plans change. 

Even the sheer sleep-deprivation he’s experiencing can’t hamper the smile that forms when he sees you face down on the bed, fan on the highest setting and pointed straight at you, and conspicuously lacking a shirt. He drops his bag and folded suit jacket to the floor, trudging to the bed before practically falling upon you, pressing a trail of kisses up your spine.

A little sleepy grumble from you notifies him that his plans of keeping you asleep have failed, but he can’t find it within himself to be too broken up about it. 

“Spence!” you murmur, voice so quiet and scratchy with sleep but still drenched in pure adoration and joy. 

“Hi, baby,” he says, lifting his weight off of you just enough for you to turn over before he collapses on top of you again. He slips his arms underneath you and around your waist just as you wrap your arms around him. 

“You’re home.”

“I am,” he agrees, burying his face in your neck with a sigh. “And I missed you so much, pretty girl.”

He laughs when you kick the blanket away, attempting to wrap your legs around him like a koala bear. 

“Did you kiss any movie stars while you were gone?”

“Not a one,” he assures you, pressing his lips to your jaw like an offering. 

“Are you sure?”

“I am positively sure. Did you give up on clothing yourself while I was gone?”

“You don’t know how hot it was earlier when I was trying to fall asleep. There was no other option.”

He hums, his face still slotted under your jaw like pieces of a puzzle. 

“You should go back to sleep. I’m just going to take a shower and then I’m coming to bed.”

Your hands weaves through his hair gently, which doesn’t make him feel any less like passing out where he is. 

“Can I come?”

“To the shower?” He chuckles, rousing slightly. “You’re welcome to, but it’s not going to be very exciting. I’m exhausted.”

“That’s okay,” you assure him. “There will be no funny business whatsoever.”

“Okay. Come on, lovebug.”

He rolls off the bed, pulling you to your feet with just a little bit too much force. The momentum send you stumbling into him, but he catches you gratefully and captures your lips in a sweet kiss. 

“Wait,” you order when he tries to pull away. “Not done yet.”

“Oh, you’re not?” He laughs against you between kisses, but slowly the humor fades and he loops his arms around your waist, gently rocking the two of you back and forth for a very long moment. “You are in rare form tonight, sweet girl,” he murmurs, finally pulling away from the kiss for good. 

“I’m not all the way awake yet,” you admit. “What’s that called, again?”

“Hypnagogia.” He presses a kiss to your temple, loosening his hold on you. “I am also rapidly losing consciousness so we need to make this shower super quick, okay?”

“I know, I know! I said I would behave!”

“I’ll believe it when I see it,” he says dryly, tugging you toward the adjoining bathroom. You pout.

“Your lack of faith in me hurts."

Despite his hesitations, the shower remains PG-13. You cling to him pretty much the entire time like a flowering vine, but no untoward advances are made. 

“Okay, you’re going to have to let go of me long enough so I can put some clothing on.”

Spencer says it lightheartedly, but you huff dramatically anyway, sitting on the edge of the bed as he roots through drawers in search of pajamas. When he produces a shirt for himself, your favorite of his, you object. 

“Wait, I wanna wear that one.”

“Oh? I thought you don’t do shirts anymore,” he teases, tossing it to you before finding another for himself. You pull it over your head, getting up again to search for a pair of shorts as he gets dressed. 

“Well, since you’re so concerned that I’m a sex-crazed harlot, I figure I’d better wear some clothes.”

“I never said that,” he reprimands gently, pulling you backward by your waist. “If you decided to forgo clothing completely, I would respect that decision.”

“You think you’re so funny.”

The two of you land on the bed, a tangle of limbs as he pulls you close as humanly possible. 

“I think I’m delirious,” he admits. With a start you realize the room is lit with the very early beginnings of dawn—you don’t even want to know how long he’s been awake. Suddenly you feel very guilty. 

“Oh—I’m really sorry for keeping you up, Spence.”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. I’m comfortable with my choices.” His hand finds the small of your back, rubbing small comforting circles over the bare skin. “Now, go to sleep.”

“Okay,” you murmur, eyes fluttering shut. “Love you.”

“I love you,” Spencer sighs dreamily. “So much.”

And the warmth you feel then has nothing to do with the heatwave. 

[chalkrub]

my finished thing for the gigaphone! had so much fun taking part <:^)!

[luciolefire]

he's fine he's just dramatic

(transparent version for fun)

[elssbethtascioni]

favorite c.c. babcock outfits -> season 3

[smallnico]

esper doodle based on that one meme. trying to durge my way out of art block

[kn-1013]

hard at work writing this next one

[lizartgurl]

Happy Bad Batch Eve! Have Cadet Hunter painting the skull decal on his bunk because it's my treasured Headcanon ^_^~❤️

Two more treasured details--the tin of blaster polish he's using to decorate, and the bruise over his eye. That comes from a headcanon by morgorita_prime on tiktok where the blood vessels above Hunter's eye burst during the tests on his senses and that eventually led to him getting his tattoo ❤️

[doeinstinct]

Fake It 'Til You Make It | MadaTobi | Fake Engagement AU

Rating: E for later chapters

Chapter 1: 8.5k

Tobirama steps into the house with a distracted announcement of his presence. He doesn’t expect for anyone to be home yet, after all. So really, it’s only natural that he nearly jumps out of his skin when he gets a response. 

“Tobirama! Welcome home!” 

It’s just Hashirama, thankfully. Tobirama hasn’t mentally prepared himself to deal with their father just yet. He slips his shoes off and pokes his head into the living room. Hashirama is waving at him from where he’s sitting beside Mito at the low table. 

“You’re not usually home at this hour,” Tobirama replies, shifting his bag off his shoulder and setting it by the doorway carefully. He’s not going to be able to focus on his research until Hashirama is done with whatever he’s here for. 

Tobirama nods respectfully to Mito who smirks at him and nods back. They developed an unusual friendship before Hashirama started pursuing her, having met in an elective Civic Infrastructure course. 

“We’re planning our engagement party!” Hashirama replies, that dopey grin on his face bright as ever. That makes sense, then. Their father would certainly interfere with the guestlist otherwise. Tobirama eases himself down to sit at the table opposite the couple. 

He grabs the list from the table and looks it over. As expected, he sees a particular name there, right near the top. He looks over the paper to observe Hashirama carefully. His brother is as dense as he is caring at the best of times. 

“So, you told Madara already?” he asks. Mito’s face is carefully blank as Hashirama frowns, tilting his head. 

“No,” he says. “Not explicitly, anyway. That’s what the party is for, right?” 

Tobirama sighs and pinches the bridge of his nose. He shouldn’t have hoped. 

“Brother, you should tell him before that. Just the two of you,” he says. 

“What? But why?” He’s pouting now and it takes everything in Tobirama not to smack him.

“Because he’s–!” been in love with you since you were fourteen. But he can’t say that. He looks to Mito who also looks just as exasperated as Tobirama. “Because he’s your best friend,” He finishes smoothly. “You told Itama and me separately, so you should do the same for Madara. It’s…polite.” 

Truthfully, as much as Madara grates on Tobirama’s nerves, he doesn’t want to see the man’s face upon hearing about the engagement. He should get a bit of time to prepare himself at the very least. 

“I agree with Tobirama,” Mito says finally. “You should tell Madara, dear.” 

Hashirama slumps even as he nods. 

“I wanted it to be a surprise.” 

Surprise isn’t going to be difficult to elicit from Madara Uchiha, that’s for certain.

“This isn’t like a birthday party, Elder Brother,” Tobirama chides. “He would be…hurt if you waited to tell him with everyone else you know.” 

“I suppose you’re right,” Hashirama replies, tapping his chin thoughtfully. “I do wish he would settle down with someone, too, though.” 

Tobirama can see his brain whirling, coming up with any number of harebrained schemes that will all certainly blow up in his face. He suppresses a groan because at least he isn’t the target of such thought for the moment. 

Still, he nearly chokes on the very air he breathes when Hashirama turns to Mito, eyes bright and mischievous. “Do you think any of your friends would be a good match for Madara? He always gets embarrassed when we talk about women, but I’m sure we could find someone, right?” 

Surely his brother isn’t that dense, right? Surely he knows. 

continue on ao3 !

[bladesofkyber]

God of War: Ragnarök | Baby’s First X     Baby's First Bestie

[02/??]

[peonyblossom]

Bas's dossier says that his fanfic count is only rivaled by Trystan's. I'm (and probably everyone else) assuming this means the amount of fanfic written about them, but what if. what if they're both just really avid fanfic writers. another facet of their sibling rivalry, if you will.

[claycryptid]

What a kind and helpful mailman. I sure hope nothing bad happens to him

[suguwu]

jing yuan who—as all cloud knights do—carved his soulmark from his very flesh but still knows it by heart, who still knows it when he hears it fall from your lips centuries later

who considers defying the idea that soulmates are an abomination of the abundance

who realizes he can't because of who he is, because of what he's given the luofu, because of who he's become

and you, who never even knows that he's yours