#very coded each of them

[honey-snap]

closing in on the end of fmab (with my friend jumping in to witness it with me) and 13 episodes left to go... and i realized i could merge my interests. so heres outfit swaps of claus from mother 3 and edward

if you found this through the mother 3 tags and want to follow me my mother exclusive account is @tanejineri, im only posting it on here due to the fma art falling under this account

[agoodflyting]

David Tennant pissing off the Prime Minister bc he told government officials to stfu over their anti-trans bigotry and Michael Sheen literally poisoning himself investigating corporations dumping toxic chemicals in underprivileged areas is NOT the energy I expected from 2024 but oh man am I here for it.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Council of lovefools.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[nyamcattt]

i saw ryoko kui's dunmeshi page of laios hugging everyone in his party, and i wanted to make one for sombra with everyone in talon

[wistfulwatcher]

emily prentiss + leaving and coming back for her family

[zabiume]

orihime's confession to ichigo evoking the idea of time ["five lifefimes"] vs ichigo's pre-confession evoking the idea of time ["can you make time for me?"]...something about ichigo wanting orihime's time and orihime promising five lifetimes worth of it...something about both of them seeing time spent together as the biggest luxury life could give them...that they had ten whole years between the yhwach battle and the next time we saw them...ten years where they didn't battle anything and didn't rush off to risk their lives, just sat around and spent time together, talking about nothing and everything. and both of them valuing that so much because all they've ever wanted is the other person's...time

[cementcornfield]

Did you see the clip of Joe yesterday?

Is it a clip now? Oh lord....was it funny at least?

It was the first time he ever used the F word in a conference.

He cursed? Y'all lying...I be trying to get him to curse, he don't curse when I'm talking to him...

[kinokoshoujoart]

scribbles based on my Another Wonderful Life file where i discovered Rock and Nami showing up together at Vesta’s farmhouse late at night on multiple occasions to cause various types of chaos and disturbance and havoc until Marlin and Vesta’s bedtime (which they both announce in unison to kick everyone out) this included

Rock levitating and attempting to rizz up vesta

Nami making a beeline for Celia’s room where she stands around making very subtle remarks (celia isn’t even in her room)

Marlin Enduring

haunting crime scene photos of the shenanigans:

[lyramundana]

Just listened to "Want it so BAD", the new song by Han and Lee Know and, after reading the lyrics twice, let me tell you:

If there's still people who claim they're just friends, I'll lose my faith in humanity. Those guys are the real delulu here because what the fuck? With this song they basically confirmed everything we've heard since debut and screamed to the world they're, in fact, very much in love and not in a platonic way. They're married, your honour. This song basically confirms it, it states firmly and without a shadow of doubt that MINSUNG is fucking REAL and it has been since the survival show.

So for all those who don't agree with it, go argue with the wall. Us, the minsung whores and defenders, are going to fucking celebrate this gift to humanity.

Now lets focus on the parts where they specifically mention their first meeting, something we've heard from both of them in skz episodes, but now the uncensored version.

Minho: "I fell in love with you unexpectedly, couldn't get any work done, so many thoughts in my head keep me awake at night, spring snuck into my heart and left me frozen with excitement, i'm not used to it i know it's pain but i really want it so BAD" 😭😭😭😭😭 this is so minsung pre-debut coded omg, he's so fucking cute in the early states of love. knowing he was going to suffer but he loved him so much he just kept going.

Jisung: "Ride, come closer, just the two of us"🥺🥺 "together we make a whole romantic comedy movie" "let's get is started, getting anxious, can't think straight" "love you, i wanna place mysef in a spot next to you" "i'll hold you tight and say i've always been waiting for this moment" "the moment I first saw you, it was meant to be. For me, it's you"💀💀💀💀💀my man wasn't even being subtle here, he didn't try

In conclusion: Minsung is more real and solid that my parents' marriage and anyone who disagrees please come and kiss my ass. thank you❤

[sophiethewitch1]

www!reader WILL call batman a pussy for not killing on her private twitter. she does it like every other day. its cathartic

[kazoosandfannypacks]

You're my rival. Of course I think you're pretty.

[rambunctioustoons]

thinking about pre-virus friendships..

dragging each other to parts&service after smacking around intruders a little too good

[skrunksthatwunk]

this could be kuwameshi if you guys would like. take my hand and trust me

[doublel27]

Diew, y’all swapped colors and God pouted and you still sent him to sleep in his own bed!! Sir! And the colors are swapped again the next day. Oh they’re in love.

But you could let that overgrown puppy just sleep with you.

[yepmadness]

Yeah so. I gave into the urges. I’ve never felt the need to write fanfic. Ever. But here I am I guess.

I wrote this at midnight soooo, who knows how this is. Just wanted to write John thoughts because he’s my guy—so have this short little piece that I hope other people can enjoy too :)

Fic under the cut: 1.8k words.

The memory of Arthur’s silence will remain more prettifying than his agony, but that doesn’t mean that his pain … his terror as the light and awareness left his eyes—their eyes—is what John was hoping to hear.

He doesn’t know what he was hoping for. Relief? A gasping thank you? Pride in saving him? Would it be foolish to wish that the talisman fixed everything? That he would just be okay? Perhaps it is. He thinks it is. He was never going to have that. It would be unreasonable to think he would get any of that, but any joy of him living, of John fixing this, was ripped away when Arthur opened his mouth. All John wanted was a sound. A single noise, a response, any response to prove the talisman worked. He got that. He should be happy that he got that.

But he isn’t.

And Arthur is silent again.

And the world is dark—but not as dark as it could be.

John does not know what to consider if Arthur didn’t end up in the dark world … when he died. That place was the last thing he wanted for Arthur, and yet, it was always treated as a last resort. Of a sort. Between them, spoken only aloud by Arthur, so long ago now. A place they would end up together in—if they failed. It was not a future he ever wanted, but it was a possibility, even if it was one he despised the thought of. But now he knows that if Arthur dies he does not follow, instead he is left here to deal with the repercussions. To play the marker for lifeless remains, having to have witnessed, and experienced death without a choice. What if there is no place meant for them? Past all of this. He can’t exactly bury Arthur himself, if it came to it, he wouldn’t let him stay dead after all. Graves are a place of permanency, one they do not deserve, because they can be forgotten. Especially here. But John would never forget. He would never abandon him like that.

He would find a way, like today. They are stuck in this together. They both have to make their own path through this, together.

Except his body is no longer a weighted grave for them both, a tomb he would never dare leave, it is breathing. Arthur is alive—and so they are both alive, whatever that may entail. He is tentatively okay. Arthur, is okay. As okay as he can be, as they both can be. What matters is that he is alive—what matters now is keeping him alive.

John has almost lost Arthur more than once, twice, more than three times, and he wasn’t always there to fix it but he has tried to be. He often was. Every moment where Arthur falls, where he becomes immobile and lost to John, he feels himself succumb to a fragility accustomed to human bodies. Accustom to loss and fear. It’s horribly quiet without him. Even so, he saves him, he saves them both—because Arthur trusts him, and he trusts Arthur. He loves Arthur, and he is going to tell him that. He has to tell him that. Even if they both know it, to an extent. This can’t happen again without John making sure he knows it.

But this is never going to happen again.

Because Arthur died this time, and he almost lost everything. John felt the cold stone visage that he left in his absence. There was nothing here without Arthur, more so than just the lack of connection to their body, but the emptiness was staggering. He was alone. Completely and wholly alone in a space meant for two.

He hadn't felt terror like that since Arthur slit his throat before the King—but this was worse. They’ve grown … so much—and John wasn’t there to see the aftermath of his actions back then. This, he was aware of, in every aching moment of uncertainty. This could have been prevented, couldn’t it? They didn't need to go after the talisman, but they did, and John didn’t see her—not until it was too late. It was his words that made her kill him—an appeal made to the wrong person. Arthur wouldn’t have died if made the right decisions. But he always seems to make the wrong ones, no matter how hard he tries, that he and Arthur have in common.

But Arthur is alive again, so why does it still feel like he is grieving?

Arthur wouldn’t have gotten hurt, wouldn’t have died, if John wasn’t here. But John wouldn’t be here, who he is now, without Arthur. Perhaps that would be more demoralizing if Arthur hasn’t so vehemently stated that he doesn’t want to be rid of John, that they are in this together, until they both get what they want … no matter what that may be. Perhaps that is just happiness, in the end, no matter what it looks like. From one harrowing experience to the next, until they may finally rest. Arthur wants him here, in spite of all the pain it causes, and will continue to cause. Because Arthur is his friend, and more than that, but he is his friend.

Arthur might even be … pleased with his actions. That he has found himself, both with him, and all that he has learned for himself. That he knows who he is, in truth, after everything.

Even if he knows who he is now, who he wants to be, who he will always be—he knows he will want Arthur there too. Arthur who has been there for all his mistakes, his achievements, their joy and sorrow. Arthur deserved to be here for this too, but he wasn’t, and maybe that was the push he needed. He used to defend so much of himself to Arthur, expectation after expectation, misstep after misstep. But Arthur also gave him hope, the sanctity of trust, showed him love and sacrifice, and remained alongside him even when that trust was broken. Even if some mistakes can’t be forgiven … They let them rest. Arthur lets it rest, so they can move on, so they can grow.

Is it so wrong to become … whole without him there to witness it? Or is that how it was always meant to be. To be entirely his own, must he first be alone?

He hopes not, it is a terribly bleak thought, besides it can’t be. Not in every single world, even if Kayne said he … doesn’t change much. There must be some place where there is more joy to be held in his ownership of self. A better circumstance that does not lace his pride in one of their darkest moments. In his choosing of hope. In his choosing of Arthur. One that doesn’t extend off of a devastating fear, off of death. He doesn’t know if he would wish to change this, he would have—if Arthur was truly gone—but he isn’t, so he will just have to see how this plays out.

He is going to share everything he said—everything he did, with Arthur. Because he deserves to be a part of it. Because they do this, all of this, together. Because he wouldn’t be here without him. Because together they are whole of two, just like he said, just like he will say.

It’s not as if he will ever fit into the messy expectations of what it means to be human, per say, but he doesn’t need to. All he needs is to perceive himself as what he wants to be—and Arthur’s perception helps to, even if he doesn’t always meet that. Humanity will be whatever he wants it to be. However he defines it to be. A neutral point, in it all. For he is not a piece to be slotted away, but a piece to be shelved along the masses, every individual part given a space of its own, and it is a space he deserves. A space he had long since earned.

A space they both deserve, to play their own key.

Because Arthur is alive—and so is he, in every sense of the word.

He’d panicked, when Arthur lost consciousness again, for a second he thought he had lost him once more. John had been so ready to reach for the talisman for a second time—for he wasn’t going to allow Arthur to leave, not yet, not ever. But he was breathing, albeit raggedly, but he was. John was going to keep his promises, he had to. He was going to take care of this, of him, and they were both going to be okay. Just like the times before this, and everytime that may come after, because Arthur isn’t going to die.

They’re going to get their happy ending, despite what she said, one where Arthur does not end up as a corpse.

An ending where they both know want they want, what they deserve, who they are.

Moving Arthur to the witch’s bed was difficult, to say the least, without exasperating the wound and the subpar stitching ... even if it has improved. John won’t allow it to get any worse—and Yorrick keeps telling him it’s survivable, or that he is more likely to survive anyway. Even so, John periodically checks to make sure Arthur is still breathing, that his heart is still beating.

Arthur is alive. He will stay alive.

He should stop worrying, Yorrick keeps spouting that he is arguably fine. He should stop.

But the reality is that he can’t, and he doubts will for a long while to come.

He is intimately aware of every minuscule movement Arthur makes, of every second of awareness he gains, and he coaxes him back to the present through all of it. A melody of promises, of reaffirming how he feels, telling Arthur everything over and over and over. It doesn’t matter if he is aware of what he says, if he hears him at all, John will repeat his words for as long as they are needed.

John never lets him arrive to the dread of waking up alone, speaking as soon as he stirs and recognition strike, each and every time. They are never going to be alone again, severed or separated, and John tells him that. Because they are whole together.

And eventually, when Arthur finds his speech, a gentle—hoarse voice long since worn by constant yelling born from the suffering of the waking. He repeats back everything John has been telling him through the suffering of uncertainty, of recovery and knowing and fear.

Arthur moves, ever so slightly, before John can protest—and he brushes his hand, John’s hand. It is a little thing, but it is such a stark constant to the stillness he had before. After the pain of it all, this is a relief, a reprieve. Arthur is alive and John can tell he’s weakly smiling, even if that is not something he can see, when he speaks up for the first time in hours.

John isn’t surprised by what he hears, he already knew, after all. They’ve both said it before. But John it is nice to hear regardless, because together, they are whole. A comfort to both him and Arthur both. He does not want to live, to experience life as it was shown to him, without him. He wouldn’t have gotten here without him. Together they are whole. Both their own wills, colliding, and depending on each other. Made by each other.

Arthur is alive.

Arthur is alive and he breaks the one sided silence by saying, “I love you too.”

Perhaps that, for now, is enough.

[fakeoutbf]

five stages of grief but it’s five stages of social anxiety