#that’s my roman empire

[flowerboypoet]

alas, i may just be a whore for old men who commit heinous crimes.

also, the villain x female mc is my favorite troupe because THE TENSION

i’m asexual like to the point that i think something is biologically wrong with me, BUT THAT TROUPE

HOLY MOLY

[teabookgremlin]

my friends and i have spent so much time ranting about doodles recently bc god they are difficult dogs and a horrible creation

[naitmeir]

"And... I could use a friend..."

[itsnotgray]

…i didn’t need this today

but now i’m sad

there's something kind of you-can't-go-home-again about being a hockey fan in terms of, like, your "first" roster is always going to be "your" roster, no matter how long ago it was or how many people have been swapped around, how many trades, how many retirements, how many free agencies you live through. it'll never be exactly like that again. it probably wasn't even exactly like that for a full season. i know there's a lot of jokes about "how do athletes deal with trades. what about their friends?" but it's also, like, what about us? what about our friends? to me, the penguins are always going to be, like, brian boyle and jason zucker and brian dumoulin and evan rodrigues and john marino, but for other people, the penguins go back even further than that. hags and horny and nealer and flower. you don't have to go too far down on reddit to find people who think about mario and jagr. i was a fairweather bandwagon fan for the avs when they won the cup and that exact lineup holds its shape in my mind perfectly, but talk to someone who follows the team for real and they have a tyson jost-shaped hole in their picture of the cup team that's still not healed over. i just love that. the inherent melancholia of being a sports fan is not knowing you're in the good ol' days when you're in them and then trade deadline comes. and the trade deadline comes every year.

[mrghostrat]

oh my god i finally thought of a vampire au that i'm completely unhinged for. i am about to be so insufferable about this

vampire aziraphale x vampire hunter crowley. and no, neither of them realise they're hereditary enemies when they hook up. they're dorks and idiots your honour.

edit: fic is here c:

[theghostofbean]

”Men think about the Roman Empire” “What’s the female version of the Roman Empire” SHUT UPPPPP. SHUT THE FUCK UPPPPPP. AS A WOMAN I LOVE THE ROMAN EMPIRE. AS A WOMAN I LOVE ANCIENT HISTORY AND BATTLES AND POLITICAL INSTABILITY. THE “GIRL VERSION OF THE ROMAN EMPIRE” IS THE ROMAN EMPIRE. IM GOING TO STAB YOU 23 TIMES

[antomatkoen]

🩸🩸🩸

freak behaviour 🤦‍♂️

[kate-komics]

My friend said I should expand on the original illustration… so I did.

Original here!

Drew everyone/ the groups individually then placed and lit them. Their own illustrations below the cut 👇🏻

[scapegods]

pushing my byler yeehaw agenda

[daisychains111]

Thalia doesn’t keep many things in the hundreds of years she’s been alive. 

But long ago, there were people, their names all but distant memories, who mattered in her 1st lifetime. It’s their things that stay hidden in her bag, reminding her of her mortal life. 

A blue hoodie, worn almost threadbare. The scent of its original owner, long since leached from the fabric. But if she closes her eyes, she can almost see the blue eyes of her first and only love. 

A pair of glasses. Frames cracked and crooked. A reminder of a brother she never got to truly know. 

A baseball cap. It’s magic long faded, branded with a forgotten logo. Memories of a blonde girl laughing hidden deep within. 

A letter. Ink fading, paper yellow. The last words of a dying friend. Words that wish her well, words that wished her well in a world they had fought side by side to save. 

Thalia doesn’t keep a lot of things, but even after all this time, Luke, Jason, Annabeth, and Percy will stay with her forever. The memories of her first family to remind her why life is so beautiful.

[marskitteh]

Whoever wrote “breasted boobily” in that one tumblr post changed my life and the chemical makeup of my brain. I can’t even walk down stairs without thinking about it.

[abstractpyschopomp]

[moonstoast]

yes & no by natalie wee

[nic-coughlan]

just saw a comment about colin and penelope's first kiss which said the first time that a kiss has awakened the prince instead of sleeping beauty and i'm openly weeping because yes.

[waterghostype]

ocean blue how do you do

[baeshijima]

— stardust

the world is a vast place. in the grand scheme of things, humans are but a speck of dust; much like how you are sure you are nothing but a meagre speck of dust in the world he lives in, forever to be remained unseen. (if only you knew how you are the brightest star he'd ever laid his eyes upon.)

CONTAINS : gn!reader, 1.5k wc, royalty!au, contract marriage/marriage of convenience, fluff, smitten reca bc what would he be other than smitten, a little hint of bittersweet at the end if read between the lines aha...

A/N : ....i have a paper due monday. i havent started it. why do i do this to myself. (reca i love u can u not hear my cries and wails as fic after fic appears in my brain for u...)

Duke Reca of the northern territory; to many he is a well-accomplished noble, a young genius set for greater things, and the owner-slash-founder of the top theatre company. He is an idol — a role model to those who aspire to be more involved in the artistic side of the world.

To you, however, he is an absolute lunatic, the bane of your existence, and your contractual husband.

It's not like you had much choice. It was either: a) remain as a hollow puppet whose strings danced at your family's fingertips, or b) find some way to escape with outside power.

You, of course, chose the second option. Unfortunately, that somehow led to you meeting the young duke when out in the shopping district, trying to escape the suffocating presence of your family's knights accompanying you by running into a secluded alleyway, even if it was for but a momentary breather.

It was a whirlwind of a meeting... quite literally. Bodies flew; clothing tousled; breaths stolen. Well, at least for you it was like this. He, on the other hand, looked right as rain. (Lucky bastard.) You hadn't realised it was him at first, too absorbed in hasty apologies and the numbing bloom spreading across your backside like a wildfire (really, they ought to incorporate more padding in these flimsy clothes!), but when he uttered an apology of his own for not paying attention to his surroundings with an arm outstretched to help you stand, your mind all but blanked. What was someone of his status doing in a dingy alley? Didn't the newspapers report word of his self-confinement, having not stepped foot outside his manor in fervent preparation of his upcoming performance?

No, never mind all that; wasn't this a blatant opportunity being presented to you? An outside power that could help you escape the clutches of your family...

With gritted teeth, all sense of self-dignity was cast aside as you grasped his outstretched hand with both of your own, gazing into his widened eyes with your own narrowed ones.

"Your Grace, I know this is hardly the appropriate time nor place, but please... marry me!" Your words echoed within the enclosed space. Duke Reca blinked slowly down at you, and it was then you realised you never elaborated. "In... in a contractual marriage of convenience, of course."

"Oh?" he grinned, amusement and intrigue twinkling in his eyes. "And what is it you can offer me?"

"I..." Truthfully, there was nothing you could offer which would be beneficial to someone like him who had everything at the tips of his fingers. You were but a speck of dust in his world, merely floating and remaining unseen within his view. But even so, here you kneeled before him, his gaze wholly fixated on a speck of dust such as yourself. If nothing else, you at least had your desperation — a desperation to be your own person. "My lineage may be from that of a baron's, but I am confident I can be of use to you if you would permit it. So long as you accept my offer, I will do anything to aid you, whether that be through practical means or a performance you wish to see."

A beat of silence.

"Ha... haha... ahahaha!!"

And, as if things couldn't get any worse than a sore rear and disgruntled self, you were pulled out of your daze by a pair of gleaming carmine eyes, a maniacal grin, and his body, now kneeled just like you were, so very close to your own.

"That determination... how brilliantly you burn with such an expression!" The sheer glee which bled through his tone sent shivers down your spine, having never realised someone so esteemed had such a side to him. The duke breathed a breathy laugh and slightly backed up, his hands still holding your arms. "Alright, I look forward to seeing how brightly you will shine in your performance, my dear leading actor."

...Was it too late to back out and find an alternative solution?

Admittedly so, for the next thing you knew vows were declared and you were moved into the duke's residence. You could still remember your family's aghast expressions the moment you declared you were marrying Duke Reca and thus cutting ties with them. It was oddly freeing to see their contorted faces reveal their true nature.

Life as the duke's spouse was... something, to say the least. His servants and attendants almost seemed to have shed tears of joy at the revelation of their ever so lonely duke (their words, not yours) finally settling down and getting married, asking you questions such as how you both met, what drew you to their duke, who popped the question first, why you chose him of all people, so on so forth. It was... cosy. Something you admittedly weren't very accustomed to, but found yourself welcoming nonetheless.

One thing you never expected was for the duke to have a little pet of his own; a little toad dressed in a miniature beret and matching suit, at that. Assistant Director is what Reca had called her, and you think for someone so obsessed with the arts he ought to up his naming sense. She was also quite susceptible to compliments, something you discovered when commenting on the little toad's cute attire, with the duke's baffling translation of her bashfulness and her own compliment on your own looks. Apparently. You're not really sure, but you're inclined to believe it ever since she claimed a spot on your shoulder.

As the days-turned-weeks-turned-months bled into each other, you found yourself oddly lost at how well-adapted you have become of your new life and the duke's personality. From impromptu displays of affection both in and outside the manor to sporadic radio silence on his end when wholly consumed by his fervent passion for a project, you sometimes wonder just how you're still alive with the amount of heart attacks the man has given you.

But despite his... eccentricities, to put it lightly, there are times where you can't quite put a finger on certain expressions he would make when he thinks you're not looking. They're unlike his (once again, to put it very lightly) passionate eyes when rambling to you during mealtimes about an upcoming performance the troupe has; unlike the sheer mania he can exude when something truly sparks his inspiration; unlike the playfully smug grin he would give you when swooping down in dramatic flair to press a long kiss to the back of your palm; unlike the rare darkening of his expression that you cannot help but stiffen at when something or someone in the troupe doesn't quite match his expectations.

No. These ones are... soft. A kind of tenderness and unprecedented longing able to be identified if scrutinised close enough. It was evident in the ghost-like touches he would trail along your skin, as though afraid just a little more force would do irreparable damage. It was evident in the attention to even the most minute details, having everything from clothing to food to the decor suited to preferences you yourself never realised you had. It was evident in the way unadulterated fondness leaked through his tone when his unique terms of affection for you slipped through his lips when all was silent and you were supposed to be asleep.

"My dearest star..."

...Much like now, it would seem.

The bed dips by where your knees slightly bend, hidden under the beige covers. A familiar musky scent surrounds you not long after, and you find yourself involuntarily relaxing at the comfort it brings as your head further burrows into the pillow.

You want to stay awake, even if it's just for a second longer, to hear what he has to say to your less than conscious state. But, oh, his fingers threading through your hair and softly massaging your scalp and the gentle touch of his forehead against yours and the subtle comforting warmth that rolls off his body in waves does little to help you fight the sleep which easily takes over.

Oh, whatever! You'll just try and catch what he has to say next time.

Eventually your breathing evens out, only soft snores now heard within the large shared bedroom. Upon noticing this, Reca cannot stop the fond smile which lifts the corners of his lips, nor can he prevent the softening of his eyes as he continues to gaze at your sleeping form.

"My dearest [Name]," he whispers into the dead of night. Even now, several months later, he still cannot believe his luck to have run into you in that alleyway. It must have been fate which made him heed its call, urging him he would discover something sure to escape that terrible slump plaguing him for weeks on end.

Sure enough, it brought him to something irreplaceable; something he has been searching desperately for.

You.

And, with the tenderest of kisses pressed to your forehead that would put even the most sickening romantics to shame, he murmurs words of promise against your skin, an oath he swears to uphold no matter the obstacles which stand before him.

"In this life, I will ensure you have only the best of endings."

if you enjoyed this, reblogs and/or comments are greatly appreciated <33