#the last one. his face in the last one. ough

[majimaisms]

collection of normal images that i feel normal about

[maskedchip]

bunch of ryuu faces i like. bc idk where else to put them

[saaltskies]

The way Volo does care about people despite how he might pretend he hates them and people only ever use and manipulate each other

If he hates the world so much and just wants his suffering to end he could just kill himself or something why are you trying to restart the world so no one ever suffers again, hmm?

Man. I think about what if he won. Would he even have the guts to go through with his plan? He has to. He's come this far. He's done this much. He has to... right?

He likes people too much

Him being all friendly wasn't completely an act he really is like that even if he really hated the player and was using them. He likes people. He likes to yap. He likes to gossip. He likes getting all nerdy about ruins. But he's so convinced the world is doomed and beyond saving. So much so he's willing to rip open the sky, manipulate and betray someone who thought of him as a good friend, and take his fight to the heavens and the creator itself.

[llycaons]

that tweet was so funny but I don't even think verge was ever mocking dante for being gay it more like 'why are you, as a gay person who has experienced homophobia from the church, still with these fucking people given everything that they've done to you? wow you've really betrayed yourself AND me huh. you've really lost yourself. also I never told you what they did to me but you obviously know so fuck you' and well. deserved

[riacte]

so hey guys i finished dungeon meshi yesterday and i'm still thinking about it

[two-person-job]

Sooooo, how are things with Yoimiyaaa?

herhehrwehrer..

we're doing good!! during my break my mental health was at it's lowest for a while, but honestly selfshipping helped me feel better <33

today I had a poptart that I used the dinosaur sandwich maker on and I thought "yoimiya would like this.." (I did too bAHAHAH)

she misses u btw

[spidercatweb]

Missing Kiss ★ Spencer Reid x reader

Warnings: kissing, gn!reader, r puts on lip balm (i guess that could be seen as something more feminine?), misunderstanding (for like one second), THEY ARE SO CUTE!!! happy wonderful ending of course :)

Description: Spencer stays over at r's place for the night after a long case out in the cold. r puts on plenty of lip balm and does not kiss Spencer, thinking he won't like it.

Word Count: 723

A/n: wrote this because i ran out of my Burt's Bees lip balm... ough i love Spencer so much hes so cute.

You stand in front of your bathroom mirror, applying a generous amount of lip balm. You had just gotten back from a week-long case. Being out in the cold almost every day for hours at a time was not very nice for your already dry lips. Now moisturized to your liking, you snap the lid back on and set the tube back down on the bathroom counter.

You exit the bathroom and head back to your bedroom, where your lovely teammate and boyfriend, Spencer Reid, is waiting. He's relaxing on your bed, looking very cozy in his pajamas. As usual, he has a book in his hand. Too immersed in it to notice you returning, he startles easily when you practically collapse onto your bed. A sound escapes him, something between a gasp and a shriek. 

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you!" You laugh as you sit up and pull him into a hug. He sets his book down beside him on the bed. He returns your hug and laughs along with you, embarrassed. He smells like mint toothpaste, and your shampoo.

Burying his head in the crook of your neck, his voice is slightly muffled. "You walk too quietly." You just giggle in response.

You gently untangle your arms from his first, pulling back to get a better look at him. You smile, and so does he. The look in his eyes is sickeningly sweet, full of adoration and comfort. You hope he sees the same in yours. You bring a hand up to run through his soft, brown hair. It’s getting long, you think.

You inch your face closer to his until your foreheads are touching. He huffs out a small laugh, smiling wide. This is the moment where usually, you'd kiss him. But you aren't sure if he'd appreciate the feeling of your chapstick on his lips. So you pull away once again and settle on admiring his pretty face instead. 

A slight look of confusion washes over his face, along with a small pout. He looks like a sad puppy.

"What?" Your eyebrows knit together and you frown slightly.

He hesitates, opening his mouth then closing it again. 

"You didn't kiss me. When you do that, you usually do." His voice is shy and quiet.

"Oh, well I didn't think you'd want me to. I just put on like, an insane amount of lip balm. I didn't think you'd like the feeling." 

His eyebrows furrow, he looks at you like you'd just accused him of doing something horrific, "I always like kissing you, and my lips are a little chapped anyway. I could probably use some." 

You dawn a happy grin as you move your face closer to his. Does he know he just said the cutest thing ever?

His gaze darts between your eyes and your lips for a moment, and you do the same. When you finally press your lips to his, you find it hard not to smile even more as your eyes flutter closed. The kiss is gentle, warm, unhurried. He softly places a hand onto your upper arm, slowly running his thumb up and down. You don't want to separate from him anytime soon, but you feel a yawn coming. You give him one last quick peck. His lips chase yours when you move away.

You yawn, covering your mouth with your hand as you do so.

"Tired?" He asks, hand still caressing your arm.

"Unfortunately, yes. It's almost like being away on a case for a week is exhausting or something." You fail to stifle another yawn.

Spencer glances over at the clock on your nightstand, it's getting late.

"We should probably get to sleep. At least eight hours of sleep per night is recommended for adults, and I'm pretty sure neither of us have been getting that recently." Never too late for fun facts.

"I guess you’re right." You sigh, exhausted, pushing back the covers so you can get underneath them. 

When you're settled, Spencer turns off the lamp and gets under the covers as well. You cuddle up to each other. A sleepy haze slowly sets in with the absence of light.

"Goodnight, Spencer."

"Goodnight."

The next morning, you wake up with Spencer's arms wrapped loosely around your waist. 

Your lips feel noticeably softer. So do his.

Thank you for reading! <3

Feedback is very much appreciated!!

My requests are open <3

[hanafubukki]

How long has it been since he last saw your face?

400? 500 years?

Time escapes from him even now though he cherishes every moment.

In that time, he had lost everyone. Silver had been first, then Lilia, you not long after, and even Sebek after some time.

Each one is a star losing its glow, but never were his nights filled with darkness.

He had lost them but his days were not lonely.

He had friends who still lived; some old and grey while others, metal and long living just as he and a cat whose appetite hadn’t changed even now.

He had generations of descendants keeping him company.

Some with eyes of the changing skies, others who bore scales and might, some with tails of lions, others who came from a land of sand, some with traits of bats, and many more.

Each a glimmer of the past but a story of someone new.

Here, he catches a glimpse of you again.

A newborn with your traits.

It felt nostalgic.

Malleus looks around.

Familiar faces surrounded him as they waited for his blessing.

He was never alone, even now.

He couldn’t wait to meet everyone again and tell his tale of the last few centuries.

He couldn’t wait to see and hear dearly missed smiles and voices.

For now, he’ll continue to make memories to share in the future with everyone.

Until we meet again.

…why does this give me the vibe of “it’s been 84 years” lmaoo 😂💞😆

I was thinking about Malleus’ long life and how he’d be the companion of generations of friends and families and thought of this piece that’s been on my mind.

Tried to make it hopeful and a little aching but ough Malleus, it’s not easy losing loved ones constantly 😭💔

[hotvintagepoll]

Propaganda

James Stewart (It's a Wonderful Life, The Philadelphia Story, Mr. Smith Goes to Washington)—the thing about Jimmy Stewart is that for a weird-enough looking guy, he is yet somehow SO hot and SO believable, ALWAYS. He always plays the same person—he's always, well, Jimmy Stewart—yet that person can be a murderer, a dark cynic, a naive idealist, the boy next door or an old man who knows better, and every one of those is hot. I would jump his bones in a heartbeat

Toshiro Mifune (Rashumon, Seven Samurai, Grand Prix, Stray Dog)—i love and respect my boi tab hunter (rest in peace you beautiful, beautiful man ❤️), but after i watched like 12 of his movies in a row on tcm last year, i ALSO love and respect toshiro mifune, son of a literal actual hatamoto’s (a high-ranking samurai) daughter, also very possibly related to the best judokan EVER, AND, he’s the guy who SHOULD have been obi-wan kenobi. the fact that he’s ALSO hot as hell just adds to his appeal.

This is round 4 of the bracket. All other polls in this bracket can be found here. Please reblog with further support of your beloved hot sexy vintage man.

[additional propaganda submitted under the cut.]

James Stewart propaganda:

"Ough I saw him first in It's A Wonderful Life, where he is very charming as a suicidal family man being absolutely crushed by capitalism. But then. The Philadelphia Story, in my opinion, should get the same kind of press The Mummy does for being a bisexual dream. Now I'm not really bi (not into women) and it's honestly up for debate whether i'm attracted to men or not, but COME ON!! The movie stars James Stewart as well as Cary Grant and Katharine Hepburn (and Ruth Hussey). Stewart plays a common working man, a journalist, to contrast with Grant's character, who is mega-rich. He is scrappy and hates rich people. Hot! They have a whole scene together where he's super drunk and being really physical with his acting, which I love because he is kinda wet noodle shaped. Hot! He carries Hepburn in his arms while singing Somewhere Over The Rainbow. Hot! He gets punched in the face by Cary Grant. Hot!!! In The Man Who Shot Liberty Valence, we get to see him portray an alternative type of masculinity, opposite John Wayne doing John Wayne. He is even more wet noodle-y, to put emphasis on his incompatibility with the rugged masculinity of the cow-boy, he wears an apron for a lot of the film, again, to blur his masculinity, and he gets shot. Hot! Also he's older here, if that's your thing. Long story short: He's giving librarian chic and The Philadelphia Story made me want to be poly."

“Here he is next to Grant, in what I believe to be a promotional shot for The Philadelphia Story. Please don’t get distracted by Grant (or do, i’m submitting him next).”

“He’s a nice guy and a good guy and deserves all the happiness and joy ever! Classic boy next door/class president kid that everyone loves for real. Stand-up for the Little Guy vibes. With a charming fun side!!”

Toshiro Mifune propaganda:

"In addition, he spoke fluent mandarin and every time he was casted in foreign films, he said his lines in the language of the movie (although they ended up dubbing him. He wasn’t happy about it though).”

Submitted: this gifset

Also submitted: this video (yes, that one)

"Crucial Toshiro Mifune propaganda: THOSE LEGS."

"That is hella muscle. Go watch The Hidden Fortress, aka Star Wars A New Hope. His thighs deserve an award."

[burgerrat]

"No one gets me like you do."

Harley Sawyer x Reader

NOTE: gender-neutral reader, mentions of gore, threats of violence & light angst.

(I'm gonna be honest the positive feedback with my headcanons made me wanna make s'more Harley stuff. Praying that I kept his personality as close to I think he'd act canonically. Ough

My main inspiration behind this was dovewingkinnie's art piece mixed with that scene in Sonic 2 where Dr. Robotnik's grabbing Agent Stone's face

Aaaaandddd the prompt that makes the title comes from melamemea's prompt list here!

Hope you enjoy!)

It felt like you had been watching the procedure for years, when only 30 minutes had passed by as the Doctor poked and prodded at some unfortunate, sedated Smiling Critter's insides.

Sprawled on an operating table as a robotic, three-fingered limb attached to the ceiling of the room, worked away with a scalpel; a mechanic vessel bent over the operating table, a singular, wide eye displayed on it's screen as it observed the process, also lending its pair of hands, when they were of need. 

He was gruesome in his work, yet his hand was gentle in the most skilled of ways, in however form it came.

A professional in his field, until the very end.

"Do I really have to sit through this?" You huffed, resting your head in your palm.

You were spooned into another of Harley's vessels, sitting cross legged as the metal giant behind you remained still, like a protective shell.

"Squeamish, are we?" The Doctor casually asked, not bothering to actually acknowledge you with one of his physical forms.

"No! I just- ugh, how do you sit through this without falling asleep? It's not like taking a walk around inside here will be the death of me."

Soon as you responded, the scrap robot behind you hummed to life, the operation before your eyes coming to a pause quickly, and now... the screen of the vessel behind you turned on, displaying that oh so familiar eye.

"Your blathering is distracting enough." The Doctor hissed, his anger thinly boiling over.

"I might as well put you on that table instead. Perhaps you'll find my work more 'interesting' once it's skin-deep?" He chuckled.

This was Dr. Sawyer's attempt at humor, only his sadistic side could see the amusement about his threats.

But you knew better, you knew he bluffed each time, because he'd never acted upon it. Not when he was furious, not when you were asleep and vulnerable.

You glared at the vessel behind you, as if to say:

'do it, I dare you.'

The eye on the screen squinted, a quiet confrontation.

Then, dropping all hints of sadism, his voice returned, gentle and monotone.

"I cannot, and will not allow you out of my sight. Set one foot outside of my laboratories, and you'll be just another lamb to the slaughter, I can guarantee the probabilities." 

He'd told you this a million times before, each time more frustrated than the last that he had to deal with such a thick headed person.

His apathetic logic brought him once more to question why, why he kept you. Why did this type of recognition mean so much to him, when it came not only unprofessionally, but brought him objectively nothing?

"I know, I know, Harl. Look, I'm sorry-"

Your voice snapped him out of his thoughts. His eye, once zoned out, focusing back on you.

Harl.

He liked the ring of that.

Only you bothered to give him nicknames like that.

He liked whatever this was that he was feeling, it... helped him relax.

"I just can't do it like you do- the patience. And at least you're doing something. Maybe I can be your assistan-?"

"Absolutely not." He interrupted before you had even completed your question.

"It's my work and my work alone. You may take notes if you wish, but I will not allow any interference. Especially from an unqualified hand." He sternly said.

You sighed in defeat, you knew how much his work meant to him, you happily engaged- but watching it actually happen? Much less intriguing (or violent, really) than you'd imagined at first.

"However..."

His sing-songy tone as he continued caught your attention. His metallic hands gently took hold of yours briefly, before they snaked up to cup your face, the vessel's head lowering slightly so his eye could analyze your expression. Your entire face, really.

You could feel your cheeks heating up slightly against the cold touch of the machine's fingers as they smushed your face gingerly, his fingers slowly moving in small, smooth circles.

"Mmm, yes... I think we can build a little enrichment area for this little mouse."

He purred, his eye squinting playfully.

He knew what he was doing.

For a moment, a brief moment, he indulged exactly what you wished for: more of his attention, his touch. His hands did not come off of your face at any point, one moved to knead your head as the other continued to study your physiognomy, observing your behaviour, taking mental notes.

But all good things must come to an end, regrettably. And, much as he cherished you, his work was more important, you (or anything else) weren’t above it.

"I do wish to study your reactions upon being presented with certain... situations." The Doctor trailed off as he readjusted his position around you, his consciousness switching back to the other vessel and the robotic arm hovering over the operating table, casually going back to digging his scalpel around the Smiling Critter’s guts mixed with stuffing. His tone became fully professional, as if he were discussing business with you.

"E-excuse me??" You babbled out, face still red from his probing.

"Let's not get ahead of ourselves. I won't place you in any hostile environment. Since my surgeries are so boring to you, I might just have to leave you with some homework to do instead, mm?"

Once his response was met with silence, he continued.

"I'll just place a few seeds around a labyrinth for you to find and collect, and see how well your cognitive abilities are. After that? Who knows! I might reward you with some cheese." He mocked.

You raised an eyebrow, unamused.

"Fine. So long as I'm doing something." You huffed, earning a contented chuckle for a response from the Doctor as he worked.

You were tempted to ask him to elaborate instead of speaking about his metaphorical 'lab mouse', to satisfy your curiosity, but you didn't want him to think you doubted your safety around him... he'd kept you alive this far, was ever-so vigilant to make sure you were well and alive.

You trust him.

You care.

~

"Most would come to think I'd be laying some sort of trap. The logical outcome." Harley observed once he concluded his procedure on the Critter, the robotic arm once more going still, the vessel remaining active and now... focusing on you.

"Oh, to be so blissfully void of paranoia."

"Yes." You agreed, then shaking your head, "but I know you, Harley. You word it like we're strangers." You added. "I should be able to trust you."

Silence.

"Do you know why?" The Doctor vaguely asked, his monotone voice sounded like he was miles away, yet he was so close to you. The automaton had begun approaching, the one behind you had turned on again. Yet he seemed... disconnected.

Not in the technological sense of his vessels.

"Why won't you lay a trap for me...?" You tried to clarify, "or why I should be able to trust..?"

"Neither." He scoffed.

"Why it is human nature to seek pointless connections, such as this. Nothing of value is extracted, there are no means to an end. What's the value of a life, when it can mean so much more? When it can be so much more?"

You tilted your head slightly, raising to your feet.

"Why does it have to mean anything?" Your answer was another question.

"It has to mean something to me." He barked.

That hurt a little. No… maybe not his intention, but your expression changed, and it didn't go unnoticed by him.

"Don't I?" Your voice softened.

He made a noise, like he was about to respond, yet held himself back the moment the words were going to leave his speakers. The main vessel he was using to express himself retracted a little.

You'd caught him off guard enough to remain speechless.

Because you were right.

You meant something to him.

You, who interacted with him even when you had no need for him, unlike the company who'd betrayed him twice.

You, who listened, who liked him even through his irritable, sadistic nature.

You, the one person that came back to find him, even if there wasn't much left.

And it wasn't because of his research.

You came back, for him.

"Harl...?" Your voice quivered a little, concerned with what his reply would be. Now, you were starting to doubt your safety through the hurt.

"You do." 

His response came out quick but monotone, void of emotion.

He wasn't sure what to make of himself. He hated it when others displayed sympathy towards his experiments, but he was telling the truth: you meant something to him, and, much as he hated to come to terms with it, it wasn't for his research.

You sighed in relief, your expression softening as you looked to the ground.

"I apologize, I was merely... pondering." His tone now took on its usual, eloquent speech. Or at least he tried to keep it that way, like how he'd word a presentation.

"Wondering why humans need to seek... connections... what drives this.. urge. This feeling." He rasped that last bit with spite. He couldn't understand himself, this counterproductive hypocrisy, and oh how he hated it.

This was his indirect attempt of saying 'I'm sorry that I hurt you', having taken notice that his selfishness had actually caused damage to the one person who gave a damn to even look for him. It wasn't good by any stretch, but it was an attempt to mend things up with clarifications. 

"I don't think... you need to know specifically the why of it...we're social creatures, it's, uhm.. normal, to want connections.." you tried to explain, approaching the automaton, reaching to hold his hand.

Were he in his human body, he would've noticeably tensed at the contact.

"Why still bother, when you have been betrayed over, and over again? And the funniest part: there is no prize for it. It has no meaning." He spat, once again void of emotion. He was subtly venting at this point, really, not even trying to hide that he was talking about himself.

In this moment, his complete detachment from humanity matched with his current body.

"Must have some meaning, if our relationship is an indicator of it." You played with his hand, intertwining your fingers.

Even when he had little regard for how you felt, you gave him compassion. You cherish him.

"I don't understand what drives you to it. What compels me." The Doctor's grip tightened around your hand for a moment, frustrated.

Then, he relaxed, his other hand tenderly taking hold of yours. Even though he was machine, it was his gentle handling that reminded one that he was still a man, despite the sharp metal.

"But.. one thing I do know, is that no one gets me... like you do. There is something there... and I intend to study it, why you, and nobody else."

Part of you knew that you both knew what it was.

Perhaps he was in denial of it, or maybe this was another indirect attempt of his, to say 'I love you' in his own way.

[forsaken-headcanons]

TW: Uhh.. Heavy Gore, Death..? Shitty jokes Just mainly based around the events of The Last Guest

Okay so- As a big, big Guest 1337 lover I've seen art of this man with Jez's facial scar (from before the explosion) and it's kinda- upsetting me? because I see Guest with the ugliest scars. He blew up a camp. Yeah it was shown that he was tackled into a trench but still something should've happened. He landed facing the explosion. His face is going to be ugly, disfigured even. Yeah he was rolling over so that could mean his back has ugly scars.

I believe that Guest has atleast a lazy eye or blind eye from the explosion leading him to have neck pains. I'm not half blind but I have heard your head will tilt so your eye is centered. I could be wrong.. but if I'm thinking correctly that would mean Guest's head at a tilt. Gosh this is more of a rant..

Moving on.. I feel like Guest would be confused to see Builderman and Shedletsky. Because "Why is my mayor here?" and "Why is that weird guy from the army here?"

you know what.. i'm just gonna let this be a whole rant of my headcannons

Guest = semi-verbal. I only say this due to guests being mute (this leads Guest and Taph to get along. No one will stop me on this. Yes I know what Taph used to do. I'm dying on this hill of Guest and Taph getting along because I love Taph.)

Either Guest is good at cooking or he'll burn the cabin down, no in between.

Avoids Chance like the gambler is going to kill Matt.. (get it.?)

Yeah Guest is this military vet with a "no nonsense" personality but.. that just doesn't sit right with me. In rounds yeah he's gonna be hostile but out of rounds. He's all father mode, checking in on everyone.. even Chance.

He has tried to train Elliot to fight back but failed miserably.

When Guest died (in my opinion) when he killed the Bacon General, leading to the ugly scars. The Spectre isn't gonna be nice enough to let it like- really heal if yk what I mean. Plus I believe the Spectre waited for Guest to like- die die.. idk- how to explain

uhh.. I keep losing my train of thought so.. I'm just gonna stay derailed off the train tracks of thought..

I request to be..

The Blue Train anon

you'll prolly never see me again but.. better to give a face to a stranger than let it be a husk yk?

oh my god these are so good. half blind semi-verbal 1337... gulping these hcs down ough. stealing these. shaking you around sorry we HAVE to show how much we love these ok THESE ARE SO FIRE

obligatory "fuck the spectre" sentence here. it can go inhale a rusty can ):<

anyways, welcome, blue train anon! :D hope to see you again soon! we say with more than 430 asks in the inbox /silly. that last quote was fire too btw. better to give a face to a stranger than to let it stay a husk. ough. love one-liners

[justsomerandomfanfic]

An Amazing First Kiss - Hobie Brown X GN Reader

Title: An Amazing First Kiss

Hobie Brown X GN Reader

Additional Characters: Reader's friend (Mentioned)

WC: 1,651

Warnings: Try at writing a Cockney accent, Reader's nervous, italics, Reader's nervous about first kiss, Hobie is the best boyfriend, hurt/comfort idk?, nicknames, teasing, banter, flirting, mini angst, very brief mentions of lying, and fluff

To cut right to the chase, you were dating the amazing, and super lovable, Hobie Brown. You met him when he was performing with his band at some pub with your friend, and you just couldn't look away from him. His charisma, how easily he seemed to draw people to him, his passion for music, and just the way he’d spot you in the crowd. It made you feel as if no one else existed in the world, except you and him.

His dark brown eyes - even though they were covered by his Spider-Punk mask - had found yours in the crowd. He, too, was unable to look away. The way you softly danced in spot, bouncing on the balls of your feet. Your friend's arm linked with yours, your friends jumping up and down with more enthusiasm, but you drew him in; entranced him. It wasn't long until the two of you started seeing each other, going out for dates and whatnot. And it wasn’t long until the both of you started dating, and he revealed his secret identity to you.

Everything was perfect, except that you were very nervous. You were worried that Hobie might want to kiss you soon. And it's not that you don't want to kiss him. You did… You really did. And you would, eventually. But, at the moment, you just weren't ready. But it seemed that Hobie was. Only last week, he tried ‘the lean in’. But you were quick to come up with some sort of excuse. But, it was coming to a point where you hated lying to him and not talking to him about it. You didn’t want him to think that he was doing something wrong or that you weren’t interested or attracted to him.

The first time he tried to lean in, you had been sitting on the couch together, in his loft, watching a movie. Well, you weren't really paying much attention to it, and neither was Hobie.

"'is movie's bit boring, innit?" He muttered, his arm resting over your shoulders, his fingers randomly drumming along your forearm to an irregular beat. 

"Not the best movie I've seen, no," You agreed, glancing at him, "But it's entertaining to a degree."

Looking down at you, he continued, "'is guy a bit of a git 'ough." Hobie randomly gestured towards the screen where the main character was fighting with his brother.

“I agree…” Looking up at him, your words began to trail off when you noticed how close your faces were to one another. Looking into his beautiful brown eyes, you felt your stomach flip flop. However, you began to inwardly panic as he began to lean in. Red, flashing lights blared inside your mind as you froze and jumped out of his arms and off the couch. Letting out an awkward chuckle, you gestured down at your watch. "I have to go... Uh... Feed my cat." You stumbled over your words, making your way to the front door. Opening the door, you turned to give him a nervous grin, "I'll see you tomorrow, love you!"

“Love you…” As the door shut, Hobie let out a deep sigh, falling back upon the couch. Raising his legs up, he propped his feet on the coffee table. Why did you leave like that? And when did you get a cat?

~~~

A couple of weeks later, you were back in Hobie's loft, baking cookies. You hummed along to the song that Hobie was playing on his guitar in the other room, your thoughts drifting elsewhere as you worked. You didn't know how much time passed, or when Hobie stopped practicing, but as his arms wrapped around your waist, you couldn't help but smile. 

"Wha’ are you makin' 'is time?" He asked, resting his chin on the top of your head as you pressed the heart-shaped cookie cutter into the dough.

"I think you know what I'm making, Hobie." You sputtered out a small laugh, "It's quite obvious." 

He let out a small chuckle, before asking, "Well, 'ow many are you makin’ 'en?" 

"About ten, I think? I won't know until I cut them all out." You patted his hand on your stomach briefly, “And you’re not eating them all like last time.”

Hobie hummed as he pulled away from you, his fingers brushing your waist as he did so, causing a shiver to run down your spine; heading to the stove, he grabbed the kettle, "You want some rosy?" He asked, setting the kettle on the burner, and turning it on. 

Glancing over at him, he was already looking at you, leaning against the counter beside the stove, arms crossed. His gaze was warm, and his grin was - as always - breathtaking. You returned his smile, "Sure, thanks. That would be nice. Do we still have Earl Grey?" You asked before going back to the cookies as Hobie went to fetch the milk and sugar, humming softly to himself.

“‘Ave no scooby-doo.” He answered, before searching around in the cupboards, pushing other boxes of tea around until he spotted the Earl Grey, grabbing the tea box.

Reaching over your shoulder, his chest pressed into your side, Hobie grabbed the sugar from the counter near you. Looking up at him, you were surprised to see him still looking at you. There was that look again, the one that made your insides just turn into mush. But, as if in slow motion, he began to lean in. Quickly, you turned to look back down at the cookies, his lips pressing a kiss into your warm cheek; the coolness of his lip ring sending goosebumps over your skin.

Hobie pulled back, titling his head at you, his eyebrows narrowing as you slid the cookies into the oven; pursing his lips. Hobie was beginning to really wonder now. You seemed reluctant to kiss him, which made Hobie wonder if he had done something wrong. Did he do something? Say something? Did you just not want to kiss him? Hobie snapped out of his thoughts at the sound of the screeching kettle.

Now, Hobie wasn't one to keep quiet about things bothering him. After pouring both him and you a cup of tea, he joined you on his couch. Setting both the cups on the coffee table, Hobie turned himself in his seat to face you, his arm resting on the back of the couch.

"Let's cut to 'e chase, yeah? 'Ave I done some'nin wrong?" He asked you, a slightly concerned expression crossing his features. 

Your shoulders slumped and a small, sad smile formed on your face as you looked down. "No. You haven't done anything wrong, H." You looked over at him, your sad smile turning into a frown upon meeting his eyes, "I... Uh, I don't think I'm ready to kiss yet." You knew Hobie wouldn’t break up with you because of this, but it was an irrational fear that your brain liked to tease you with.

Hobie, though, tilted his head, looking confused at this response. Noticing your frown, the unleashed tears in your eyes. Hobie moved closer to you, wrapping his arms around your shoulders and pulling you into his chest. You melted into his embrace, relaxing in his grasp as you let out a sigh of relief. He gave you a reassuring squeeze. "I 'ough' you just didn't want to kiss me, or some'nin' like 'at." 

You shook your head at his words, nuzzling your face into his chest, "No, I... I just don't think I'm ready to kiss anyone right now... I think sometime in the future I will be ready, I don't want you to think that I just won't kiss you ever."

At this, Hobie chuckled, lightly squeezing your shoulder. "Ya silly, luv." He teased, "You should know 'at it's fine. We ain't rushin' into anythin'. You’re stuck with me. I’m not gonna jus’ up and leave ‘cause you ain’t ready to kiss me."

Nodding your head, you gently pulled yourself out of his embrace, looking up at him. "Thank you, Hobie."

"Anytime, luv." He said, moving to lie down on the couch, opening his arms to you. You gladly climbed on top of him, laying your head on his chest; cuddling with Hobie always felt like home. His heartbeat was a steady rhythm under your ear, a comforting sound that made the world outside seem distant and unimportant. 

Leaning up on your arms, you looked down at him, "You're amazing, you know that, right?" Grinning, he reached up and ruffled your hair, causing you to scrunch up your nose. "Oi, don't mess up my beautiful locks," You laughed, jokingly swatting his hand away.

"An' I'm always amazin’. ‘Ough’ you knew ‘at ‘bout me already." He said with a wink, causing you to giggle. 

Staring down at him, you silently admired him. His dark complexion, chocolate brown eyes, high cheekbones, the piercings on his eyebrow and lip. Suddenly, you had an idea. "Hobie, honey, I’ve got an idea." You stated, grinning.

The tall boy sat up with you, a slight tilt of his head and an intrigued look on his face, "What's 'at?" Shifting on his lap, you leaned forward and took his face into your hands, his cheeks soft under your gentle touch. Giving him a small smile, you leaned forward. You shut your eyes before the tip of your nose bumped into his. Softly, you shook your head, giggling, your nose rubbing against his in an nose kiss. As you opened your eyes again, you saw Hobie staring back at you, his eyes half-lidded. A smirk played across his features, "Wow, luv." He whispered.

"Pretty amazing first kiss, eh?" You joked, your hands dropping from his cheeks, and reaching for his hands; interlacing your fingers with his.

"Oh, very amazin’ indeed." He said, bringing your hands to his lips, and kissing each knuckle. “Maybe even more amazin’ ‘an me.”

~~~

Main Masterlist | Spiderverse Masterlist

[coddda]

Light's relationship with his father is such a heartbreaking multi-faceted tragedy to me I hate it so so so much.

Soichiro loves his son so much, and while he's certainly not a perfect father I know that he cares deeply about Light. He wants to prove Light's innocence so badly but he can't let go of the underlying doubt that he might really be Kira and it gnaws at him. He does not know that from the very beginning he was being used by Light, whether it was to obtain information about the investigation, or to get to L, or to strengthen the foundations of his own lie that he wasn't Kira, this entire time he was simply another resource. He'll hang onto this doubt for years, even after L is dead, even if he doesn't express it in the latter half of the series, until he himself is on his deathbed, with what he believes to be undeniable proof that Light isn't Kira. (It's a lie, of course.) He dies happy, but it's on the foundations of blissful ignorance. His own son brought him here, brought him to the point where he had to sacrifice half of his own remaining life span, to his own death march, and was still trying to use him even now to kill someone else, but he doesn't know that. Soichiro said that what was evil was the power to kill others, and that whoever used it was cursed. Light was that cursed man, of course, and he tried to bring that curse onto Soichiro too by making him kill in his last moments. Soichiro was happy regardless, because he didn't know. He'll never know. (In the manga/anime at least. More on that later).

Light loves his father but it's not enough to turn him away from the terrible decisions he's made, if anything it only fuels them. His idea of "justice" is a twisted model of what he parroted from Soichiro, and he uses his father as another pawn (and a powerful one at that) in his plans. If he can prove that Kira is justice then perhaps his father will no longer call Kira, and therefore Light, evil, so he just needs to ensure that Kira becomes justice, right? It's Light's own actions that land his own father in the hospital for a stress-induced heart attack and yet he says only a few minutes later that he's the happiest he's ever been in his entire life. Even after Soichiro denounces Kira by calling him evil, even after he calls the Death Note's power evil, even after he unknowingly tells Light that he is cursed. When Soichiro dies Light is too deep in his own plans to actually properly process the fact that his own father is dying past what it means for his goals, but at the same time he still cares enough that after the fact he'll genuinely cry, only to brush it all away later. (Personally, I don't have a single doubt in my mind that Light's crying in that scene was genuine and I Will die on this hill). Soichiro had unknowingly denounced Light one last time just before his death, openly relieved that he "wasn't Kira after all", which also reveals that he has had doubts about Light this entire time, even after L died. By the time he's caught at the Yellow Box Warehouse Light will have denounced his father too, seeing him as someone who was made to be a fool, someone who was naive, even, too earnest for his own good. He won't realize that part of this description of his father might have applied to Light himself, back when this all started. Light takes after his father so much in so many ways already, so why not in this way too?

Ough. And honestly the other adaptations never miss out on this tragedy either, and I love them for that. (spoilers for the musical and 2006 live action movies I guess?)

In the musical we see Soichiro express his doubts and conflicts about who to believe, Light or L, if the son he raised really is a murderer, if everything he knows about him is just a lie. Like, there's an entire song about this, and you can tell how torn he is about it all, how badly he wants Light to be innocent but about how he also needs to face the truth no matter what it is, but at the end of it all he doesn't even get the answers he wants. At the end of the musical the only thing he finds is two corpses, Light's and L's, with no answers. No last words, no closure, only dead ends and a dead son and a grieving daughter. It's so awful I hate it here.

And the live action movie is fucking Insane. Like, wow. Okay. (Spoiler for the ending of Death Note The Last Name I guess) In the 2006 movies/novels Light writes Soichiro's name in the Death Note himself, and it's such an inconcievable move that it leaves even Misa shocked; Light tries to make Soichiro give him the Death Note for the last part of his plans, seeing his death as a "necessary sacrifice" (insert tangent essay about why I think 2006 live action movie Light is actually the most "coldhearted" Light Yagami, despite how infamous anime Light is). It doesn't work, and Soichiro does end up finding out that Light is Kira this time, and they have a confrontation, but he doesn't even sound truly hateful towards Light for it. He Never seems to outright hate Light for it, even after Light calls the whole confrontation a waste of time and instead tries to continue killing with the piece of the notebook in his watch, even after he tries to get Ryuk to kill everyone. When Ryuk inevitably writes Light's name and he collapses, Soichiro still reaches out for him and holds onto him as he's dying. Light literally dies in Soichiro's arms, still looking for the validation that he was right, that this wasn't all for nothing, that he was doing the good thing, trying to make Soichiro understand that he was trying to enact justice based on what he learned from him in the first place. Soichiro not only learns but sees for himself what his son has become, and Light dies in his arms leaving no closure for either of them. Soichiro will announce Light's death in L Change the WorLd on the news without saying his name, saying instead that it is only Kira who is dead, even though he and Light are one in the same. Sachiko and Sayu will never get to know the full truth about what happened to Light, instead Soichiro will lie and instead tell them: "Light was killed by Kira."

And then holy Shit the jdrama. If I write about it here this post is gonna literally double in length and also I don't really wanna spoil it but. Man. Man. If you watched it you know. Holy Shit dude I Cried.

It's the fact that, canonically, Soichiro will die oblivious to what Light has done, but even in the instances where he does find out, it doesn't make it any better, and it doesn't make him love Light any less, it just gives him more to grieve.

It's the fact that there isn't a single universe where Light doesn't use his father for his own gain, whether to gain information, or to try and control him with the Death Note, or make him write in the Death Note himself, and not a single time will he realize just how far he's strayed from Soichiro's ideals, and not a single time will he not forsake him for it by the end of the story.

It's the fact that, despite everything, Light will always refers to Soichiro as "dad/my dad" (informal) rather than "father/my father", even after he has been "denounced" (and this is true in every language that Death Note has been translated in, as far as I could find. Man, isn't that so cool! :) <- Through tears).

Anyways that's what I've been thinking of how's your guys' days going

[luminique]

Hey, it’s the nosebleed anon again! I’m here with more worms!

Imagine knowing lighter in his competitive fighter era…

You’d patch him up after matches, help him calm down if he saw too much blood. Watched him go from the bottom to the top.

And then one day, after he’s done it all, he leaves. He says he’s going to find greener pastures, but promises to meet you again someday. And then later; maybe weeks, months, or years later. You meet him again, as the SoC’s Champion. And he still has the biggest crush on you that he finally has the confidence to confess to you… OUGH

ANON THE VISION IS VISIONING !!!

he’d look for you during every match, making sure your eyes were on him. the underground fights were more for money, for those who had no other choice. at the time, lighter didn’t have any other choice but knowing you were in the crowd, cheering him on, made every bruise worth it.

but before he even made it to that point, he was barely climbing through the ranks. in the beginning, it was all for winning some extra dennies. then he went through his first loss and it came crumbling down on him. the blood running down his face, his hands were red and all he saw was red. his heart was thumping, a sharp pain in his head followed by a heavy fall to the ground was the last thing he remembered.

you rushed over to him when everyone else just stared at his body. immediately tending to him, bringing him to a safe zone, trying your best and hoping this wasn’t actually the end. after a while, his eyes slowly opened. his green iris and red pupils zeroing in on you as he tried sitting up. your face showed… worry? relief? he couldn’t tell, it was blurry but he knew it was you. it could only be you.

it was a few fights after this that he decided to move on from this life. it wasn’t worth seeing you concerned over his wellbeing, he didn’t want you to worry like that. without saying much, he packed up his things and left, whispers of his name followed behind him as his rivals found his departure strange, almost cowardly.

he made it clear that he didn’t want to recall his past, hence cutting off almost all sorts of connections with the ember arena. yet here he was, sitting at the other edge of the bar while you were chatting with burnice. would you still remember him? does his name haunt you like how your face and voice haunted him all this time? he loosens the red scarf on his neck, maybe you’ll remember why he has it in the first place.

even from afar, he feels something warm in his chest. maybe it’s the drink… maybe its the heat… you used to nag at him for not treating wounds right and not letting them heal. well now there’s a wound in his heart and he hopes you could patch that up.

[vampydrabbles]

It's real ovulation hours here's a drabble

Cw: Female oriented reader, unedited smut, uhh, oral male receiving:)

Authors note: ough

♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡•♡♡•♡•♡•♡•♡

As much as Simon is a dirty dog, you're just as bad. Cheeky little thing, you initiate just as much as he does.

You're lazing on the couch watching him get ready for work, tugging on his trousers, buckling his belt. Trying to jolt himself awake for the day. Hes got about 5 minutes before he needs to be out the door.

You slink forwards, soft innocent smile plastered on your face as you press your cheek against the soft curve of his cock under his pants.

He groans at the sight, glaring down at you. “Fucken tease,” he huffs.

You can feel him twitch under the fabric, and you flatten your tongue against the outline of his growing bulge. “I'm not doing anything,” you chime.

“Don't bite off more than you can chew, sweetheart.”

You dont listen, of course. He isn't going to do anything, he's leaving for work right this second. You just wanted to rile him up a bit, give him a reason to be a little rough when he gets home. “You gotta leave,” you hum, still looking up at him. He glances at his watch, pausing for a moment. Then, he tangles his fingers in your hair and tugs you up. “Go to the bedroom.” Not a request, a demand. You're a bit confused, surely he isn't going to do anything-?

But your thoughts are interrupted by him half dragging you into the bedroom, pushing you face down onto the bed. He frees his cock from his pants just enough to shove it into your aching cunt. Usually he's all about foreplay, making sure you're relaxed enough to take him, but he's merciless- one thrust and he's got every inch in you. You feel like you're going to break in half, babbling and moaning against his relentless pace.

“Be a good girl. This is what you wanted, yea?” He mumbles, tugging your hair again to make you arch your back. Just when you're starting to feel that heat build, he pulls out, leaving you feeling empty.

He pushes you down onto your knees, grabbing your jaw so he can choke you on his cock. It hits the back of your throat and your eyes water, the taste of him and you filling your mouth.

“Good girl..” he purrs, watching how you take him. Every last inch shoved down your throat, glasses fogging up until he pulls out, coating your face with his spend.

You sit on the floor a moment, dazed. He grabs a towel and wipes off your face and glasses, presses a kiss to your forehead, and gives you a pat on the cheek.

“I'll be back later, love.” He hums, fixing his pants before he leaves for work.

[theshiniestgemstone]

dude i’m not even kidding i bawled my eyes out when i read your amber/jesse and reader shit, ough i yearn for a weird family like them to love.

like it’s especially heartwarming if reader is just like the gemstones (humor-wise) and just throws back what they give her, all sass and laughs sigh.

they'd love her smmmm. just like the rest of the partners- she's a lil freak just like them, the yin to Gideon's yang.

She probably doesn't show it often, just kinda sits to the side with Gideon, taking everything in and making faces when things are especially obscure.

She matches Jesse bit for bit, and never lets Judy get the last word. She and BJ probably have this whole passive-aggressive banter thing that’s laced with genuine affection, and Eli? He acts like he’s appalled half the time but can’t hide how entertained he is.

One time, she's straightening Gideon's tie or maybe fixing some stray hairs. Jesse huffs that he didn't need a woman to keep him in line and she just hits him with a, "so you choose to dress yourself like that?" Gideon just kisses her cheek while Jesse subtly tries to find a mirror.

Another time, Judy's pestering her and Gideon at a picnic or something.

“You two are so gross,” she groans, rolling onto her back dramatically. “Look at y’all. All calm and shit. Y’all ever fight or y’all just whisper-argue like old people at brunch?”

You just look at Gideon. "We text. We just do it with vocabulary you gotta Google.”

Gideon hums in agreement, picking at a piece of fruit. “And punctuation. Real aggressive punctuation.”

Judy groans. “Ugh, y’all are like a pretentious Hallmark card.”

You sip your lemonade. “And yet, you keep reading.”

Like I said before, I think she'd be shy about it at first, but when you're around people with no filters who look for the worst way to phrase things, it's easy to be sucked in. Sometimes she's afraid Gideon thinks she's becoming too much like them. Little does she know is that he falls in love with her a little more every time she shuts his dad up with a respectful insult.