#lmfao idk man

[sphnyspinspin]

You guys wanna see a screenshotof an animatic I’ll never do?

Too bad.

JK

You’ll have to tap for better quality

At first it was only the first four shots, but then I decided I wanted to finish it…….sort of.

[thanatoseyes]

I'm so chronically introverted I get heart palpitations just responding to comments on open discussion boards in Discord.

[lowkey-yyy]

Chuuya and Dazai full on brawling in a mcdonalds parking lot and screaming

Kunikida: Why this time? What happened?

Dazai shrieking: HE SAID COUNTRY MUSIC IS THE BEST MUSIC TO EVER BE MADE.

Kunikida: OH MY GOD, let me kick his ass

.

.

.

Kenji from the car: I love country music :)

[lucxns]

rewatching the anime the correct way

with the abridged series.

[barelycontainedrage]

*cutely starts a blog for no reason even though i already have one*

[insanostyle1231]

hi im playing pokemon scarlet :)

[kacchanot-fucking-deal-with-this]

take a shot every time bakugou screams deku and get drunk within a single episode

[revasserium]

waiting for winter (我期待的不是雪)

zayne; 1,616 words; fluff, pining, gn!reader, no "y/n", spoilers for lads ch.4, whipped!zayne

summary: he has never loved the winter

a/n: yes, this was inspired by that one chinese tiktok song. no, i will not elaborate.

He has never loved the winter.

But he remembers the first time he watched the snow fall reflected in your eyes — your cheeks kissed pink by the unforgiving wind, the sky a smear of white as the cold sunk into his bones. He remembers the silver bell ring of your laughter as you’d dragged him by the hand out to build a snowman, the look on your face when he’d remarked that your snowman’s nose was crooked because there were no carrots at the corner store so you’d had to make do with a potato instead.

“Look! It’s snowing!”

Zayne shakes himself into the present, glancing out of his office window at the cotton-soft flurries spinning by his windows. Across from him, you’re sitting with a muffler thrown haphazardly around your shoulders, watching the snow with an open, child-like wonder that makes his entire chest twist tight with —

He clears his throat.

“All the more reason for you to be careful — make sure to bundle up when you go outside,” he says, dropping his eyes back to your most recent health report.

You’re not sleeping enough, and your vitamin D levels are lower than he’d like. He’d hoped that becoming a Hunter would at least expose you to a decent amount of sun but then again, you had told him that Jenna’s been keeping tight reigns on you since the explosion.

“Yeah, yeah — I’ll be careful.”

He looks up, his eyes dark as he looks over the shape of you, fingers curled in your lap as you look up at him from beneath your lashes. He holds your gaze and fights to keep his expression neutral as you blush and look away, somehow reverting back to a much younger version of you — the memory of it superimposed upon the look of you now.

“You’re just as bossy as you were back then,” you say, sighing as you shrug up your shoulders like a scolded child.

Zayne scoffs, affording himself a small laugh, “Except I have a doctorate to back it up now, don’t I?”

You pout, pursing your lips. Zayne wonders, for the millionth time that day, how soft they might be beneath his own.

“I liked you better before you got your fancy creds,” you say, still pouting.

Zayne sighs, flicking off his tablet and putting it down on the table.

“Alright, what do you want?”

You blink up at him, eyes wide enough to convince anyone else of your innocence. But he knows better. He’s always known better.

“What do you mean?”

He ticks his tongue against his teeth and leans back in his chair, checking his watch.

“It’s almost lunchtime — c’mon.”

He pushes up from his desk and tugs his doctor’s coat from his shoulders, rolling them loose of the tightness that had gathered there all morning.

“Huh?”

He rounds his desk and tugs his winter coat from the back of the door, turning to fix you with a look.

“The noodle shop around the corner has your favorite as a lunch special.”

He counts down from five in his head — four, three, two —

“Really?” your face breaks into a grin wide enough to split your face. He chuckles.

“Yes, really. Are you coming?”

You stare for a second longer before leaping to your feet and bounding to his side. He reaches out to adjust your muffler, tying it tighter over the front of your chest, swatting your hand away when you try to loosen it.

“I’m going to choke!”

“Better that than for you to get sick again.”

He tugs open the door and watches you walk into the hallway, a bounce to your step that he hasn’t seen since you were both kids and he’d promised you he’d buy you sweets on the way home from school.

“How’re you so sure that the lunch specials gonna be my favorite?” you ask, pivoting on your heels and fixing him with a look, halfway down the white-washed hospital halls. Zayne takes his time buttoning up his own coat and locking his office door behind him.

“Because,” he says, voice steady as he strolls by you, glancing down with the shadow of a smile crimping his lips —

“I know you.”

* * *

He has never loved the winter.

But, he thinks as he watches you slurp down a bowl of wide-cut noodles, your cheeks flushed red with joy, he might just learn to love a winter like this.

You don’t question it when he reaches out to swipe at the corner of your mouth with this thumb, licking off the excess with a contemplative hm. But he revels in the way you swallow and blush and look away.

He wonders if you know.

He wonders if you know that you haunt him like the cold haunts him on the nights when he’s alone. He wonders if you see him the way he sees you, cast behind his eyelids like the frames of an old film whenever he closes his eyes, your smile more familiar to him than his own.

“Full?” he asks, watching as you wipe your mouth on a bit of napkin, lips stained red by the chili sauce.

“Mhm!” you nod, smiling up at him.

The noodle shop smells of chicken stock and green onions and the sharp dampness of snow on winter coats. You push the noodle bowl away and stare down at your hands.

“Are you — I mean… you have to go back to work, right?”

He can’t help but notice the note of reluctance in your voice, the way you look up at him as if hoping he’ll say no. He nods, folding his napkin into halves, and then forths. Outside, the sun is already falling toward the far horizon, casting everything in a goldenrod glow. Shadows fall long and sure along the pavement and Zayne doesn’t want to think about the endless hours of darkness ahead.

“Are you going home after this?” he asks, nodding stiffly to the waiter as he hands over his card, wordlessly pushing your hand away as you make a feeble attempt to try and snatch the receipt.

“I… was thinking about going to see a movie,” you say, thumbing at a stray thread along the edge of your coat. He watches you tug at it for a while before reaching out to take your hand in his.

“Go home,” he says, his voice level.

Your brow creases in a slight frown as you look up.

“But… I wanted to see —”

“We’ll see it this weekend,” he says, giving your hand a quick squeeze before letting go, thanking the waiter as he takes back his card and scribbles his signature on the receipt.

“We will?” you ask, blinking up at him as he stands up.

“Yes. It’s showing Saturday at 2:30 — we can get lunch before, or dinner after.”

He’s tugging on his coat when you reach up to loop his scarf around his neck, standing too close, so close he can smell the caramel milk and whipped cream of your skin. He fights down the shivers that threaten to shake down his spine as he goes still, waiting as you tuck his scarf securely around his neck.

“You never tie your scarf right,” you say, dropping back down onto your heels even as you shoulder on your own coat, cheeks dusted the most darling shade of pink Zayne has ever seen. As he watches you, he thinks it might just put the winter sun to shame.

He thinks he might thank you, or he might just bend down and kiss you — he’s uncertain all the way till you make it outside and you turn to smile up at him. And like this, with the dying sun caressing the edge of your cheek, the line of your jaw, you are nothing short of ethereal.

Zayne reaches forward, his thumb and forefinger catching your chin as he leans down.

Your gasp is little more than a hiccup of breath —

“Don’t be late,” he says, stopping mere inches from your lips, whispering the words against where your lips might be if he were a little more daring.

You hold perfectly still, your eyes round as you stare up at him, searching his face for… something — anything.

When he pulls back, he thinks you almost make to chase him. But you let his fingers drop from your skin and you tug at your muffler, toeing at the slushed-up snow on the sidewalk.

“Winter’s my favorite season, y’know,” you say. And Zayne doesn’t dare to hope. But he does — he watches you out of the corner of his eyes. Above you, all around you, the afternoon sun flickers and fades, a daytime aurora, like tendrils of some long-gone magic, coaxing willing believers toward their untimely doom.

“Hn,” he says, not trusting himself with more. He waits; you take a long breath before turning to look at him.

“You wanna know why?” you ask. And finally, finally he turns to you, his eyes catching your eyes — and in them, he sees the twisting colors of the sky reflected there, serpentine and sinuous. Ancient and inexorable. Reds and yellows, pinks and purples, bleeding into an endless, endless winter blue.

He wets his lips and swallows hard, “Why?”

You smile, and it is like the first glimmer of sun after an arctic winter’s night, and he can’t breathe for the sight of it.

“Because… it reminds me of you.”

lads requests r.... open lol

[xerorao]

An unlikely pair📸🪦

[littleprincepaladin]

were thou naughty this year? 🤨

[greensaplinggrace]

the fact of the matter is that buffy ends up isolated no matter what the scoobies do because she bears the burden of the slayer alone at the end of the day and nothing can change that. the problem with this isn't that she's separate from them, it's that they don't want to acknowledge that she is, and in doing so they drive a wedge between them that just grows and grows. the best thing about spike is that he's similar enough to this other side of buffy to understand it and her by extension. he is the only person around who can support that side of her.

most of buffy's issues in season six stem from the scoobies rejecting a part of buffy that spike accepts. and this shame she feels for her reliance on spike and the presence of this darkness and isolation she cannot avoid is largely because of them. i'm sick of this bizarre assumption that pointing out where the scoobies go wrong in their relationship with buffy somehow equals an uncritical uplifting of spike. just because he understands her and represents a certain aspect of her doesn't mean he doesn't fuck up. i mean that's kind of the whole point of their season six dynamic. one of his biggest issues is that he thinks he's helping her by enabling her completely because he doesn't have the ability to properly identify the line between self acceptance and self destruction - pursuit of the id is one of his biggest character traits. that's what makes the end of season six and his decision to get the soul so interesting (although of course there's just as much i can say about the narrative framing of that in regards to lore consistency and the story's obsession with angel, but that's a whole other thing).

point is, the scoobies cannot understand all of buffy, and when they refuse to acknowledge this they destroy their chances of building any bridges to even a simple relationship with that other side of buffy or helping her carry that burden in any way. meanwhile, spike is in the proper position to understand buffy as the slayer and hold his own with her in such a way, but his definition of love is wholly obsessive and destructive. while i disagree that he's incapable of love and even of loving selflessly without his soul, i think spike's version of love in particular is self destructive in a way that enables buffy's own desire to hurt herself through hurting him (see the aforementioned shame regarding her shadow self). spike cannot identify why allowing buffy to give in to her dark side in such a way is bad because he struggles to understand how she could use this to resent herself - although i do think he realizes it's happening on some level.

spike is also buffy's only form of catharsis and the only one that actually listens to what she is saying during a time when everybody else is dismissing her because of the aforementioned inability to understand her as the slayer. it's a clusterfuck - and a clusterfuck that needed to be shattered with a hammer for any kind of relief. and quite frankly to disregard the scoobies' own part in this situation does a disservice to buffy as a character. to be honest, she deserves fucking better than what everyone in her life gives her, especially the scoobies, who grow to take her for granted and feel entitled to controlling her life as a way of keeping her conformed - again, due to the aforementioned lack of desire to acknowledge this other part of her that they cannot connect with.

which leads to season seven, where spike is the only person on the show who has developed and changed enough to remain at buffy's side helping her carry the burden. while everyone else suffered during season six, none of them opened their eyes to what they were doing to buffy - and if they did, none of them acted on it. spike is the only one to acknowledge the damage he's done and work to become better for buffy in any way he can. he is the only one that ends up able to carry that burden with her because he is the only one capable of facing the truth and acting on his desire to do better.

the fucking problem isn't that he hurt buffy - because to be quite frank everybody did - it's that he's the only person on the whole damn show to acknowledge his place in buffy's life, and to acknowledge the burdens she bears, and actively change himself for her. did you know he has almost all of the genuine apologies in the entire show? seven seasons and all of the harm the scoobies cause buffy, and it's fucking spike that is acting like a mature person capable of being a proper partner.

[superbellsubways]

autism heaven babey

[blueskittlesart]

idk if anyone else has gotten the beta for the new communities feature but these features in particular are a little bit concerning to me. i haven't tested this, but it looks to be an entirely separate comment section that's hidden from the post's op if they're not in the community, meaning you're removing a creator's ability to moderate the comment section surrounding their work. this is especially concerning for me as a creator who produces content related to transness and gender identity--moderating my comments is often a constant daily struggle to keep bigots from having their way with my posts, and this seems like it has the potential to remove or at least significantly impair my ability to moderate who engages with my content and how. Also, on a site that's had major problems with transphobic and racist harassment in the past, i can see this very quickly devolving into a way to dogpile on certain users or even organize the kind of harassment campaigns we KNOW certain people on this site are prone to engage in with no way for any outsiders to even WITNESS what's going down. At the very least i think the op of a post reblogged into a community needs to have access to the community comments (which may already be a feature--like i said i haven't tested it yet but this explanation reads to me like they don't) but on a larger scale i think the devs for this site NEED to think about the potential for misuse when putting out new features like this because this just looks like a nightmare waiting to happen to me

[theyarebothgunshot]

when talking about organising misha's 50th, jensen said that the us navy was involved, to which misha responded with "i love sailors". of course jensen then had to throw back a "you sure do love sailors" after which jensen looked at darius and started to unicorn laugh: "darius is laughing too"

[cyberghouleo]

bodyguard! simon riley x celebrity! reader

To the displeasure of everyone I know, I got cod brain rot.

Inspired by: Celebrity by Slayyyter

When your manager suggested you hire a new bodyguard after your old one quit, you were not expecting a masked man with an accent to walk through your doors. 

At first, he sees you as a spoiled brat. He’s not used to being a bodyguard for someone famous, he is used to being hired as a hitman in more dangerous situations. He only accepted this job as the pay was good and his last job was nearby, but now he feels as if he's being toted around like a puppy, trailing behind you as you go along your normal day to day life.

Everything was a culture shift to him, he wasn’t used to following his clients while they shop or getting asked if you should purchase something, to which he always responded with “if that’s what you like.” He’s not used to sitting at lunch at a nearby table as your friends drill you with questions about him, questions about the mask and why he looked so differently than your previous guards. He was used to being in stressful situations, spending hours researching his client's attacker while being on alert 24/7, now he was just following you around with no immediate threats happening to you. 

While you're doing interviews or getting your makeup done before a photoshoot, he is sitting across from you in a chair with his arms crossed. He keeps his balaclava on and hardly speaks unless someone tries to deny him access behind the scenes with you. He speaks before you can, “I’m ‘er guard.” he grunts out as he keeps walking past them, following behind you. 

Trying to get to know him felt like pulling teeth, he’s standoffish and when he does answer questions, it's always short answers, even refusing to tell you his real name after you asked. You knew almost nothing about him, but that all changed once you’re alerted that your P.O box is being sent threatening letters, claiming to have a hit out on you. Ghost instructs that you are both to not leave the house until he can gather enough info about your threatener, leaving the two of you alone for several weeks.

These weeks alone cause him to slowly start opening up to you as the two of you have nothing else to do or talk about. You learn about his past clients, how this is his first high status bodyguard job, and his time in the military. He tells you bits at a time, not willing to spill too much at one time, almost testing to see how you respond to each bit of new information you learn about him. During dinner one night, he randomly speaks up. “Simon.” 

“What?”

“My name. Simon.”

It only takes a few weeks for him to track and find the person sending you the threats, and he reassures you that everything will be fine now. He doesn’t show any proof, but you trust him enough to believe him. The weeks you spent together did lead to some tension between the two of you, you are able to see a human side of him that you weren’t expecting, and you could feel yourself getting intrigued by what else you could learn about him. You scolded yourself for thinking this way towards a bodyguard, someone trying to do his job, but you also couldn’t deny the way you were starting to feel when you caught glimpses of his arms flexing underneath the tight black shirts he wore often. 

He slowly starts warming up to you and seeing you in a different light once he spends a few months inside your house. You aren’t as bratty or snobby as he expected. He tries to brush away any lingering thoughts as you ask him to help you zip up your dress, noticing how small your shoulders look under his gaze. Or when you ask him to help you put on a necklace, comparing how small your hands are to his when you hand him the necklace. 

The tension finally breaks when you are in a dressing room alone, waiting around as the photographer goes over the photos one final time before you could leave. You can feel him eyeing you up and down while you aren’t paying attention, his eyes studying the dress you were getting paid to wear and the way it hugged you. One offhand comment from you leads to him lifting you up onto the vanity counter, his mask pulled above his nose as his mouth finds yours, soft moans escaping you. Your panties are pulled to the side as his tongue circles around your clit, one hand pressed against your mouth to quiet you, so the staff doesn’t hear you cumming against his tongue. 

When in large crowds, one of his hands is always pressed against the small of your back as he guides you through the masses, the feeling of his touch lingering on your back even after he pulls away. His other hand resting close to the concealed gun he keeps at his hip, staying alert as his eyes scan through the faces to assess any threats. Crowds will naturally part once they notice how big he is and the way he towers over most of the fans.

The paparazzi gets a photo of you two together, Simon holding a few shopping bags as he trails behind you. The photo is captioned as if he was your secret boyfriend and your fans go crazy, tweeting how cute the two of you are together and how mysterious he was.

“Look, everyone thinks we are dating.” You say as you shove your phone in his face. His eyes take a few seconds to adjust to the photo, reading a comment on how good of a couple the two of you are. He only hums a response and rolls his eyes. He expects you to have a different reaction, shocked that you didn’t find it annoying but almost enduring. The idea of you being okay with the two of you being in a relationship and not just fuckbuddies ignites something deep in his stomach. 

You definitely talk him into taking a few photos of you for Instagram, instructing him on how to frame the photo as he stares blankly at the phone. When you post the photos, comments flood in asking if your mystery bodyguard was the one who took them. You often post stories with him lingering around in the background, only fueling the relationship speculation as fans talk about him living with you.

After the media starts to report more on the two of you, Ghost starts getting more offers from other celebrities to become their bodyguard. He gives them no second thought as he denies them. He will get approached with offers to pay him triple and he still waves them off, he plans on staying loyal as a bodyguard to you and you only, no matter how much they offer him.

Simon decides to make the two of you official by gifting you a necklace with his initial, something you wear and post about often, sending your fans into a bigger spiral. He finds the fans both amusing and slightly disturbing, showing how much love they have for you, yet you only get to call him yours. 

[jirachuuu]

Don’t even try to deny🙂‍↔️

We’re both going home satisfied🙂‍↕️,

let’s go for it just for the night🫣