#no brain for anything else

[hinamie]

spiraling

[pimsri]

“Resurrection”

[grey-viridian]

Sillies

[aro-attorneys]

This sucks. One moment I'm like "I'm fine maybe recovery isn't so hard :)" and 10 minutes later I have to do a breathing exercise

[thevampireslestat]

[candlebel]

🎶 Lights on, Keep them up or I'm gone 🎶

[roborain]

it’s. It’s done?

song here!

[lazylittledragon]

i feel like social media has warped people’s perception of conflict in relationships by making you think that any minor fuck up is the end of the world and everyone is secretly a narcissist manipulator with sinister motives, because actually in real life you just say “i’m sorry, that was a bad thing, i shouldn’t have done that” and the other person says “thank you for apologising” and then that’s the end of it

[wandaslittlebird]

I’m thinking about a WandaNat x Reader fic where Wanda is a voyeur and simply likes to be a dominant force “directing” scenes between you and Nat.

Nat gets to spank you, but Wanda gets to pick the paddle. Nat gets to fuck you, but Wanda picks the strap and the position.

She doesn’t have to edge her with her hands when she can make you do it yourself. A simple “stop.” makes you turn off the vibrator and pull it from your own clit, even though you were so close. “Natasha slow down. She’s not aloud to cum yet, understood?”

“No… daddy please. Please daddy go faster!”

You can whine and beg Natasha all you want, but you both it doesn’t matter. You don’t cum until mommy tells you to.

[halflifebutawesome]

I am a good person. I am a powerful person, I don't believe in evil. I think that evil is an idea created by others to avoid dealing with their own nature. I understand my own nature, good and evil have nothing to do with it.

[hinamie]

so just know, I'm healing / even though it don't feel like it

insp

[avocadoraisin]

A vampire and a werewolf walk onto a crime scene...

[corvidaesgarden]

swept off his feet to kiss his moth bf

[seiwas]

cw: suggestive, just iwaizumi being hot in a muscle tee, use of 'baby', sweat, unedited sawry (this is my pure carnal desire for this man)

iwaizumi hasn’t worn a muscle tee in years—

it hangs off him like a singular piece of cloth, haphazardly cut to show off as much skin as possible. slutty, the way mattsun and makki had intended for it to look when they gifted it to him in his third year of college.

which, to be fair, maybe he was one—a slut, that is. whoring himself out completely with those ‘subtle’, ‘lowkey’ thirst trap instagram stories on his fitness account. the way his skin flushed a darker peach after your joint gym days was always borderline inappropriate, the strands of his hair sticking up in what you could easily mistake as sweat-matted sex hair.

iwaizumi’s muscle tee days are well associated with him being the image of absolute sin.

but it was all for you anyway: the instagram stories he set on ‘close friends’ only, the hours he kept free so he could align his gym schedule to yours—

“oh! that’s perfect!” you beam at him, your smile completely unaware.

“yeah. it all worked out…” he casually brushes it off.

—it was oikawa's idea in the first place.

"you have to sell yourself better iwa-chan," the brunet whines over the phone.

and so he did; followed every embarrassing idea oikawa came up with, posed and posted in ways extremely un-iwaizumi, and stocked up on muscle tees. a lot of them. only for him to be called—

"simp," oikawa snorts on the call. iwaizumi groans, rolling his eyes.

—"baby," you stop dead in your tracks, your breath on hold.

yeah, he thinks, it was all worth it because this is what you call him now.

"is that—?" you inch closer, mouth falling slightly open. he thinks there are stars in your eyes as you ask, "are you wearing—?"

oh.

iwaizumi looks down at the muscle tee hanging off his body and feels a little bit exposed. he just came from the gym and he hasn't worn a muscle tee in years, his collection of them having dwindled over time. the only reason he kept this one is because of its sentimental value, and the fact that it came from makki and mattsun.

compression shirts are his thing now, which you approve of very much, but you're both in the middle of moving, and some of his clothes are still in boxes.

you approach him slowly, "is this a comeback?" the smirk on your face grows when you reach him, your hands fiddling with the fabric.

this is the same muscle tee he was wearing the first time you told him you loved him.

he moves away before you can come any closer.

"sweaty," he scrunches his nose as he takes your hands into his, kissing your fingertips.

you scoff, pressing yourself right into his chest, "even better."

your hands cling to his sides, slipping underneath the damp cotton of his muscle tee as you rake your fingers down planes of taut muscle. he shivers, breath hitching as the heat travels up his body, flushing the sides of his neck deep peach.

you peer up at him and grin, placing small pecks at the areas of his collarbone that peek through.

fucking—

his hands grip your waist, keeping you in place as he tilts his head low, lips grazing just the tip of your ear.

"don't tease," he warns, voice low and hoarse, but his hands show no signs of moving away.

notes: i would like to thank @pastelle-rabbit for asking me the hardest question of all time, otherwise this little blurb wouldn't exist

[dumpster-fire-rats]

[frogenthusiastt]

when i get my hands on Liam O'Brien i'm making him pay all my therapy bills

like. LIKE. look at his face. the sudden surprise as jester invades his space and proceeds to RUTHLESSLY unravel and acknowledge his pain after the traumatic events of the day, the way he's so carefully tucked away all emotions and tried to move on without worrying the group. look how quickly the layers all crumble away, how emotional and vulnerable and small he looks, how for a second we see Caleb Widogast without all his layers. if i had any power at all to do so i would give this man a thousand oscars and then ask for a milion dollars to compensate for the emotional damage he has wrought me