#ohh......... hurts

[rameiixo]

he gives me butterflies.. ( the most beautiful butterflies imaginable )

[pcktknife]

another callie :P

[luck-of-the-drawings]

EDYN TIDESTRIDER, CHALLENGER OF THE UNDERSEA, RIVAL OF THE DEEP. WHAT WOULD YOU DO IF YOUR BROTHER WAS CHOSEN TO BE A WEAPON OF THE GODS? HOW WILL YOU UNDO WHAT THEY HAVE DONE TO HIM?

[hansmannette]

kiss for you, kiss for me!!! 💋

[holy-watercolors]

Why is bro trying to come out?!!??!?!!11 Get outta here man!!

more Kinito pet fanart!! I love this game so so much :333

[crybaby-bkg]

cw: pregnancy, kids (you guys have a daughter together), fwb’s, angst with a bit of a hopeful ending, refers to you as ‘girl’ once

Friends with benefits Bakugou who never really got over his ego to fully commit to you. You’re a little ashamed to admit it, but when you fell pregnant, you thought that things would change. That the whole “no feelings” aspect would’ve been dropped, that he would’ve embraced you fully.

But he just…didn’t? If anything, he distanced himself away from you, became so formal like you were another coworker he would address. It was heartbreaking, going through your first pregnancy feeling so, so alone, but having to grin and bear it the whole way through.

He supported you though in every way that he could. He never missed an appointment, would trek to your house during late nights whenever you craved something. He even moved you in to his own apartment during your last trimester, but a couple months after your baby was born, you went back home. You never felt unwelcome, but you couldn’t pretend to be a happy family when he slept in the guest room every night.

So now, you coparent quite easily. At least, it seems easy to Bakugou, but really, it’s all a facade.

In all honesty? He thinks he’s a fuck up. An idiot. The stupidest, shittiest person who’s ever existed.

He thought what he was doing was enough, that the words he didn’t say carried across oceans, formulated into titles that he never verbalized. So when you told him you would be happy to coparent, his world felt upended suddenly, as he holds his tiny little baby girl in his arms.

Coparent? How could a couple coparent? Where did he go wrong? (He only slept in the guest room to give you and baby space, only moved you in late because you lived so far away and you were getting so big. He never said I love you because he was too embarrassed to say it out loud. He didn’t know he had to say it out loud to solidify it. He thought you just knew.)

So it’s why his heart breaks when he catches a glimpse of curly blond hair and red eyes in the grocery store. He tries to duck behind an aisle, but his baby would recognize him anywhere. (It’s true; you’ve sent many videos of her recognizing him on billboards and tv commercials and magazines.)

“Bakugou?” You call, ducking around the corner to catch a glimpse of him. He tries to act nonchalant like he’s looking at cans of soup, tries not to cringe at your formal name. He turns when you come into view, eyes drinking in your attire. His heart breaks a little when he recognizes the shirt you took in your second trimester, still has the pic you sent him of you grinning as you show off what you stole.

“Hey.” Bakugou greets gruffly, mouth pulled tight, but it cracks into a grin when his daughter starts squealing. She’s in the front part of the shopping cart, twisting her little chunky body to get out and get to him. She damn near screams when he sets his basket down to pick her up, rubbing his nose to hers.

“How ya doing, squirt?” He asks quietly, pecking at her chubby cheeks as she instantly starts babbling to him. He holds her close to his chest, eyes full of pure love for his baby girl, and it makes your heart squeeze so tight you think it might burst.

“This isn’t your neck of the woods.” You mutter, head tilting to the side as you take in your daughters excited face to see her father. Bakugou’s eyes snap to your own, letting his daughter play with his fingers in the meanwhile. He looks embarrassed, cheeks a dusty pink as he grumbles and looks away.

“I was just picking up some stuff to drop off for her. Was gonna text you and see if you were home,” he replies, and something tells you that it’s a lie. But you don’t pester him about it, just nod a few times, taking in the sight.

He looks so good like that, in his compression shirt and sweats, his hair mussed from your daughters incessant pulling. He’s grinning at her, but looks so bashful when he turns to you, like he’s thinking about things he knows he shouldn’t, like he has a boatload to say but can’t cough up.

And if you were a mind reader, you’d be so fucking right. He can’t help but reminisce on before you got pregnant, the nights spent with you. The day you told him you were having a girl, the tears you cried when you delivered her. He thinks, filled with so much guilt the entire time, that he wants another one. With you.

“‘S it okay if I walk my favorite girls home?” He asks you gruffly, nibbling on your daughters cheeks to hear her giggle again, uncaring of the drool she leaves on his hand. You feel your eyes widen at his term for you, face suddenly flushing. Favorite? You, his favorite?

Something tells you that you shouldn’t fall down the rabbit hole that is Bakugou Katsuki and his suppressed emotions and shitty ego. But there’s another something that tells you to trust it this time, to let things happen organically and without expectation. So you do.

“I’m sure she would love to show her daddy the new toy her grandma just brought her.” You tell him, giggling when he rolls his eyes at the mention of his mother. But he walks with you the entire time you finish up your grocery order, holding your daughter the whole time and pays for your groceries despite repeatedly telling him that he doesn’t have to.

He pushes her in the stroller stored underneath the shopping cart on the way home, making small conversation. And when you’re halfway home, does he reach for your hand. Only to cross the cross walk though, he tells himself, only for your protection. But he doesn’t let go until you’re in your own place, and even then, he’s close by the entire time. He helps you put away groceries, remembers where everything is like he lives here.

And for some reason, the familiarity makes your heart ache a little more than you would like it to.

[mrsoharaa]

𝑺𝒆𝒎𝒃𝒍𝒂𝒏𝒄𝒆

characters: Miguel O'Hara x Reader

cw: MDNI smut, angst, just lost of affections ;-;

a/n; I hate how personal this one got (to me lmfao)

You wanted a clean break.

Something to deter your one-sided feelings from the man who was clearly only attached to one thing and one thing only.

Maintaining the multiverse.

So, how was it that you ended up practically folded firmly amongst your living room carpet, against the very same arms you wanted to part ways with? Feeling the rugged material of your rugs fur bristle and fringe deep into the back of your bare flesh. With your legs perched highly over the strut of his broad shoulders and his heavy weight pinning you down completely with boundless force, you couldn't help the rapturous euphoria of feeling his thriving cock drilling deep into the sweet, molten center of your sopping cunt.

Little held back whimpers and cries strain back down the pathway of your staggering throat, your hazy head drifting off to the side as you avoided the inevitable eye contact with the famished brute taking you whole, without remorse or tender.

And he picks up on that.

Hated that you couldn't look up at him directly into his eyes.

He growls deeply, continued with his ruthless pace but angled his head to meet your avoiding gaze. Uses his left hand to steadily grasp onto your chin and force you to look at him, to meet his hounding, searching gaze.

Deep, ravished irises of dim crimson bore directly into your own. An unwavered glare locks with your hesitant, sorrowed expression. Wallowing and soaking in the inevitable regret and divergence linger in those round, glossed beautiful eyes of yours. Hardly stirs a painful jab in the pit of his contracting gut.

He hates that look.

He hates that you're giving him that look.

He hates that he's making you feel like that.

He hated everything that he had put you through, and yet...here he was, selfishly indulging into his primal, greedy carnal desires. Famishing on the lingering taste of your spiraling demise and conflicted feelings. Projecting his own confined feelings with your own.

His protracted claws dig into the rugged rug beneath you, the ones on your soft plush cheek grazing over the warm flesh. His fangs nipping harshly onto the lush of his bottom lip, thick brows furrowing in with a tight scowl.

God, how he loathed himself for this.

For putting you through this.

All you ever wanted was reassurance and closure with the man, to finally mend to his on going heartache and despair...but yet, there you two were. Entangled with each others illustrious desperation and desire for one another.

A few more rough thrusts into your sore hips, and his fangs find settlement into the damp skin of your bare shoulder. Grumbling a deep, muffled groan as he empties himself deep into the torrid comfort of your snugged cavern swallowing him up.

Your back arches on instinct, nails seeping deep into his flourished coffee kissed flesh as your lips continued to tightly purse together. Holding back the last mantras of blissful moans and withered whines of his name to slip past your lips and waft through his ears.

You didn't want to give him that last bit of pleasure.

One hand that ruffled deep into the soften tresses of deep umber, gently massages through the thick strands. Slowly pulling away from the tickling strands as you plant your falling hand right onto your chest, your closed eyes now gradually peering open to glance over to the frame of your front door and entry way.

Heavy pants and shuffled body limbs stumble through the thicken, tensed air.

The weight of his heavy stature swiftly pulling away from you, laying right beside you for a moment as he stares up onto your ceiling, catching his breath.

You could feel your heart putter frantically against your chest, thick beads of sweat tracing every inch of your heated, stained body.

You blink once, then twice as you finally catch up on your breathing, finally sitting upward to find your clothing. Nothing but the unwanted, neglected silence filling the air around you.

You emit a soft sigh, picking yourself up to your feet with a unbalanced wobble rushing up through your nimble legs, your hands that were filled with your clothes, clinging to your chest closely.

"...You should go, Miguel" you mumble out lowly, turning your back at the quiet, stiffed man already re calibrating his suit back onto his thick body.

Another deathly silence fills the air.

His lowered gaze hesitantly leers over at your smaller figure, peering at the back of your tilted head with a tinge of guilt and anger brewing within his stare.

His lips hardly perches open, but nothing seems to come out.

Rage consumes his entirety, faint of guilt and regret bubbles through his blood.

He watches your limbs stifle, head hardly noting his presence nearly a few feet away from you.

"...I hope you find happiness wherever you go...cariño" he mumbles out hardly above a murmur, before opening a portal in your living room and stepping through it. Leaving you to drop to your knees and bawl your teary eyes out, feeling your entire soul crumble immensely to the lingering tone of his voice.

[mmmairon]

I deserve not even you

[getougender]

i think if satosugu and inuokko get to have fun, fucked up curse/sorcerer aus, nobamaki should get to have one too

[mishkimish]

JEV I am unwell..

[butchrindou]

I GOT SHOT I GOT SHOT I GOT SHOT NO ONE TALK TO ME IM SHANINH IMNGUP

unf tTO DIE IM GONMA DIW THEY KILLED ME MY GIRLFRIMVVF DDDFRVBEGTNNYTHTJ

[fandom-took-my-sanity]

behind every hot girl is an emotionally devastating, gut wrenching, absolutely heartbreaking ship she’ll never get over

[armandaughter]

nobody asked armand if he had fun being a petty little bitch and doing his whiny louis impression. i think he had fun

[m1zisua]

Thinking about how the last lyrics that Mizi and Sua sung together was "Always be by my side."

How Sua was singing it, knowing how she wants Mizi to always be with her and to be by her side, although knowing it isn't possible due to their circumstance and whats about to happen.

How Mizi was singing it thinking that Sua would always be by her side no matter what, right before her world, and what she knew and loved got shattered right in front of her.

[emypony]

twitter won't get this but i know y'all will

the felis erasure in regards to the concept arts is criminal how dare you

[luck-of-the-drawings]

been followin slimes POV of the qsmp since it started but mMY GOOOODDDDD i never expected to fall so in love with it... I LOVE THE TRADGEDY OF A COMEDIC CHARACTER! so funny so silly, who could ever take him seriously? when the reaction to grief can be so overblown and strange, its hard not to laugh! because wheres the line, really? we're just here to have fun! i look forward to the day this guy snaps! its gonna be REALLY FUNNY i tell ya hwat!!!

(CREDIT TO A COMIC I REFERENCED UNDER THE CUT)

something about this comic makes me so so emotional, and its so well framed. to discover something by the end of a comic, to follow the same line of thought as a character within a drawing, to either come to the same conclusion, or the dramatic irony of figuring it out first. it was made by the talented Lynda Barry, and she has a wonderful shop here https://drawnandquarterly.com/books/greatest-marlys/