#im lazy rn -w-

[cutebendy]

Well dear friends i opened the inkbox for a long time! I will explain this later... (Or not idk *:▹)

[reader-from-another-dimension]

It’s very telling when the devil loves you.

From this au!! They’re so symbrock to me aughhh

[audino-moved]

my transparent edit of an audino figure . ♡

[snuffmitten]

waiter! waiter! more kylar piss events please!!

[temeyes]

yet another sloppy painting w/ ghost

[themyscirah]

"Hawke" is no more!

Edit from Green Arrow (2023) #13

[fearforthestorm]

the fact that nobody knows that Jimmy SolidarityGaming's username is from the song Solidarity by Enter Shikari will haunt me forever. I need other people to know this information

[ur-ghostgirl]

:p

[ashipikaur]

I LOVE MY PARENTS THATRE HAPPILY MARRIED

[pshawtyy]

i’m bout to quit my job 😂😂😂😂😂😂

[hakucho-art]

Uhmmmm, Kaneki getting fucked?? 👉👈🥺

Kofi

[theloveinc]

dabi x reader - you can't tell me this man doesn't know how to pick out jewelry, for himself or you.

(warning - no specific holiday mentioned, gn except there's a necklace <3)

happy holidays!

-

It’s the end of the night. The soft glow of the holiday lights a comfort as you wind down from your day of calling friends and loved ones, drying your mouth with greetings and kisses that won’t be matched for another full year’s time.

Decorations adorn your apartment, waiting to be torn down sometime after New Years once you recover from your holiday bliss, the expected hangover that comes with it, and all your friends get up off your couch.

Dabi had… surprisingly… joined your celebrations this year. Last year, though you were familiar with him in ways just the same, you suppose you hadn’t actually known him well enough for him to willingly stand witness to the intimacy of your friendly gatherings. Though he hardly participated in the festivities even now—preferring to hover in the kitchen over the rising bread rolls and honey whilst others decorated cupcakes and shared food—he stood beside you like a good boyfriend when it was required of him, bowed his head for any introductions, and pinched out a smile when people asked what you got each other as gifts.

Which, mutually, was nothing.

(In all honesty, you considered your gift to him the simple fact that you allowed him to stay at your apartment more often than not… and simultaneously, weren’t expecting anything from him in return. Besides, he had hardly brought up the holiday season except for a handful of times, once almost embarrassedly, if not just cold, to confirm that he wasn’t going to be kicked out from your dwelling the second someone “civilized”—your words, out of his mouth—showed up.

(The only other time it came up was when he came home with a shoplifted bag of white chocolate peppermint kisses and started throwing them at you from across the living room when you scolded him about potentially being caught.))

And you didn’t mind.

For as long as you had known him, in sleeping together, and in dating—it was never about the material. Your heart was already full, by his doing (for a partial criminal, he was rather quite giving) and most others: your home was furnished and comfortable, your friends close and happy, and even the high quality pillows you had been wanting for ages (to which even Dabi agreed you needed new ones,) were so much of an aside that you hadn’t even bothered to ask anyone for anything.

It’s only now as the evening fades that he approaches—his face like a petulant cat waiting to be stroked, lips upturned under those glazed, knowing eyes—holding out a box you do not recognize.

No bigger than your fist, He doesn’t discard it gently in your lap. Instead, he tosses it to you nonchalantly, without concern for what’s underneath the terrible wrapping paper he made of yesterday’s newspaper, no obvious interest in your reaction.

Regardless, he lingers. First, you think to acknowledge your questioning look with a sneer. Then, when his lip is curled but he doesn’t move, you realize, to watch you unwrap the thing.

You roll your eyes, but give him what he wants… and under the newspaper find a soft velvet box. Not the right size for him to be offering you a ring, but instead the most beautiful pendant necklace: delicately chained and well-polished, it’s far superior (and more expensive) than what you would’ve assumed is his taste.

“Touya,” you say, suddenly shy with surprise as you glance up. “It’s lovely.”

He seems to balk at a response, barely shrugging when you catch his eye, as if you weren't expected to react at all.

“It’s nothing, really.”

You remove it from the box, careful not to pull too hard or potentially mar the gem, and stand to offer Dabi your neck though find that he’s already reaching in, eyes lowered, to help clasp the chain.

“Nothing? You can't say that. How'd you even pick something so...?"

His fingers are cold against the skin of your nape, though you find he’s careful not to snag any loose hairs that linger freely. He manages the hook in barely one try.

“So pretty?" he says, his voice is dry as ever as he presses you to turn and face him. "I had a feeling it might suit you. Think I might've been right, huh?"

And when you lead him to the mirror to inspect, you find that you happen to think so, too.

[pup-pee]

unusual turn of events where some1 doesnt want 2 get up

[birdricks]

every member of the smith/sanchez family is autistic and queer. see my vision

[cupids-stimboards]

day 10 prompt: item i own answer: my school ita bag!!!

🌌 🎒 🌌 / 🎒 🏫 🎒 / 🌌 🎒 🌌

[soobvape]

i need brownies so fucking bad rn