#which i feel like i smth

[spideriot]

idk if this is implied but all i got from pokey being confirmed to have caused the apocalypse in tgwdlm is that paul's hatred for musicals was so strong pokotho was like "yeah that guy. fucking get his ass"

[bigfatbreak]

Birds of a Feather previous / next

[puppyeared]

horrible truth bomb dropped on my head 20 min ago

[stars-by-the-pocketfuls]

💫 20/10/24 💫 @rosekillermicrofic 💫 prompt: press 💫 word count: 231 words 💫

“Mr Rosier! Mr Rosier!!”

“Evan I love you!”

“Mr Rosier look to your left,”

Drowning out their incessant screaming, Evan uncrossed his arms and placed them on his waist instead. It was delicately cinched in, courtesy of Dorcas’ corset. She seemed hellbent in making sure he was never seen “in a bland-ass tuxedo” and with her fashion sense he had quickly become an icon. 

“Mr Rosier, what's your opinion on Mrs Malfoy's new charity?”

“Are you gay?”

“Marry me Evan!”

He tried not to scowl, he really did.

“Mr Rosier, what do you think about Barty Crouch Junior's new relationship?”

Well now. There was a question that was interesting enough to grace with an answer. Leaning towards the microphones brandished at him, he flashed a small smirk. He heard someone wolf-whistle.

“Crouch's new relationship?”

The reporter looked as if he were about to pass away.

“Um, yeah. He was seen hugging Regulus yesterday.”

“Hugging?” He raised an eyebrow, “How scandalous,”

And then he reached up to brush the invisible lint of his shirt, tilting his head ever so slightly. His collar slipped.

He heard the press scream themselves into a frenzy, cameras blinding and people squealing over each other. He knew one thing for certain, any questions about who Barty was in a relationship with had completely disappeared. The burgundy bruises he had left behind on Evan's neck was evidence enough.

[seiwas]

sellllllll it's meeeeee. hehehehehehehehehhehe

so for ur writing exercises.... deku + light? please? pretty please?

:3c

heheh heheh hehe niku. this will be the death of me. me writing izuku for the first time 🥲 i will only do this for you </3

contains: established relationship, spoilers for the end of the manga, aged up deku but sometime in between the final outcome (he doesn't get the h*** s*** from bakugo yet), mentions of sex and scars

deku + light

izuku only sleeps with the lights off.

it isn't uncommon; many people you know can't sleep with even just a sliver of light turned on somewhere in the room. but the difference with izuku, you learn, is not that he's unable to stand the light―it's that he refuses to.

you quickly pick up on it the first few times he sleeps over.

he fidgets in bed, pretty badly, actually. the nightlight you sleep with glows a warm yellow, illuminating the side of your face and coating him in its afterglow. you chalk it up to nerves, how he pulls at his sleeves and adjusts his position constantly; he is, after all, one of the most anxious people you know.

and this relationship―it's new. heck, even you feel a little jittery with his arm wrapped around you.

the rhythmic tapping on your hip only increases pace. you don't think he realizes it, so your hand gently reaches for his, intertwining your fingers as you turn around in his arms.

he's close, nearly touching you nose-to-nose; the proximity leaves you fuzzy, a little ticklish, so you giggle, a soft "oops," as the freckles dusting his face almost glisten under the warm light.

"hi," you whisper, meeting his eyes; they stare back at you wide in surprise, "can't sleep?"

he looks almost guilty at your question, as if you’ve caught him with the one thing he's been trying to keep from you.

"just—" his voice comes out louder than intended, prompting him to chuckle nervously as he readjusts his volume, "just winding down, sorry."

you inch closer, nuzzling his nose lightly, "it's okay."

"did i wake you?" he asks, cheeks flushing pink as his eyebrows furrow in immediate concern. his expression is something caught between stifling a grin and feeling sorry.

you shake your head against the pillow you share, strands of your hair tangling with his. "just winding down," you tease, watching as his gaze turns softer, eyelids drooping heavier.

sometimes, you think, izuku holds the world in his eyes―a deep, dark green, the color of life. most times, they look at you with wonderment, bright and alive; photos from inko tell you they're the eyes of his inner child.

on nights like this one, however, they hide a depth in them weighted by what you can only assume is time, and all that has happened to him in such a short span of it.

you try your best to understand what lies beneath them, knowing full well he'll never tell you outright what truly bothers him.

"is it the light?" you bring up, some time after laying in silence.

"hm?" he clarifies.

"do you have a hard time sleeping with the nightlight?"

his eyes widen briefly once more, as if shocked that you've caught him again. these split second reactions are ones you've learned to be attentive to when it comes to izuku.

"no," he tries to lie, but you know better as you turn to your nightstand and reach for its switch, "you don't–"

"it was hurting my eyes," you quickly make up an excuse, tucking yourself closer under his chin as you cut off his attempt to deny it again.

finding out that the light was the problem was the easy part—

you'd begun to notice much earlier on that izuku was barely rested on the nights he'd spend at your place. it was only when your old nightlight broke that you began to notice him waking up much later than you did, groggily rousing from a deep sleep.

—what was hard, was figuring out why.

at first, you suspected it was his scars.

"s-sorry, it's not—" he'd warned you, right as your hands gripped the hem of his shirt the first time you were about to have sex, "—it's not nice."

you didn't care though; you still don't care, and you've made that abundantly clear to him since. you love izuku and all his parts―all the nicks and jaggedy pieces of skin that make up who he is.

when you eventually ask him about it, with a request that he be honest with you for once, he tells you that it is and it isn't―the reason why he exclusively sleeps with the lights off, that is.

it's an odd, comforting relationship he has with his body—that he is simultaneously grateful and sorry for how its become a canvas, both painted and marred to symbolize japan’s historic last stand.

you find out the real reason when you catch him staring at his hands.

he does it often, when he thinks you aren't looking—his fists bunched up in the same way he used to watch the power of one for all course through his fingertips; the same way he used to prepare them in battle.

there’s a faraway look in his eyes that lingers, you notice—a little wistful if anything.

“do you miss it?” you finally ask. he gives you the same shocked look he does every time, as if he’s been caught with a secret he’s been trying to hide.

he’s learned a fair bit about you now, too, though—lying to you is futile when you’ve perfected reading his truth. he stares at his fists again as you take a seat beside him, moving to give you space. you rest your head on his shoulder gently, waiting.

“sometimes,” he admits, but you know it’s an understatement.

“i think about the vestiges a lot. i miss them the most, i think,” he continues, clenching his fists tightly, “i always try to reach out to them, but i guess it doesn’t work that way.”

“i… i try to replicate the right conditions every night, but…” then he lets go, stretching his fingers out wide. the scars on the surface ripple through his skin, telling its own story.

you hum, acknowledging what he means. silence sits with the two of you as you take his hand in yours, slowly unfurling his fingers until his palm reveals itself to you. it’s rough to the touch, seasoned with hard work and all that he’s been through.

“is that why you prefer the dark?” you ask softly, after some time.

it's not often that you stay up later than izuku does. when you do though, you catch him shifting in bed, moving from side-to-side. you pretend you aren't awake, but you hear him mumble their names, dwindling in volume as he dozes off to sleep.

he stares at his palm for a moment before he admits quietly, "yeah." his brows furrow as if contemplating whether to say more, but he shakes his head, dark green strands swaying to the beat of his embarrassed chuckle, "nevermind, it's silly."

"it's not."

you intertwine your fingers, sandwiching his hand between yours. a slight sheen glosses over his eyes as he tilts his head up to look at you. he draws in a breath, before it spills over.

"it's..." he finds the words, and you squeeze his hand in comfort, "it's easier to believe it was all real when the lights are out, and that maybe it can happen again."

[liauditore]

this mf really took one look at the etho situation this season and went obsessed?? let me show you obsessed and i appreciate that

[randomminty]

Enchanted by akatsukis princess carryisms

[iknowwhereyousnoozeatnight]

tennis

[fisheito]

everyone gets a turn in the ridiculous skintight edmondsuit. or at least, .everyone SHOULD

[skymagpieart]

Making super niche content catering only to me, but I decided to draw the Old Hillsbrad Foothills - Renault Mograine and Sally Whitemane interaction - however put them closer to the ages they have during the same event in "Ashbringer" where I assume Renault is ~15 and so is she. Also baby Darion who is a kid and he was present for the creation of The Ashbringer.

Yes, my math is probably off, I just assume Renault would be a teen here and if not, yeah this is just super self indulgent stuff. I wanted to draw 15-16 year old Renault and Sally and also a baby Darion.

[lunarin64art]

That feeling when he can't stand to see you that way, no matter what you do, no matter what you say😩😭💔

[formulanni]

GEORGE PHOTOS!!!!!!!!

THANK YOU OMG

[skrunksthatwunk]

landing

[yippee-optimistically]

Otay !!!!!!!!

[revacholian-girl-utena]

I guess you could say we believe it *because it’s impossible*.

Alt text: Frames from the finale of Revolutionary Girl Utena with overlaid text.

1: Prince Dios lounges on the ground, looking disinterested. Text reads: YOU — "They think their success is a given."

2: The same shot from another angle, showing Akio mirroring Dios as he looks on with a fruity drink nearby. Text reads: "Yes."

3: Anthy bites her knuckle, tears in her closed eyes, looking torn. Text reads: "Whereas we understand"

4: Utena lying crumpled on the ground as the million swords bear down on her. Text reads: "that we'll almost certainly fail,"

5: Utena and Anthy's outstretched hands touching. Utena's hand is visibly bloody. Text reads: "which is what allows us the chance to succeed." End alt text.

[blackhholes]

teen wolf meme: [4/6] creatures -> chimeras

You found the perfect word, though, Scott... Because a Chimera isn't just a monster with different parts. It can also mean something impossible to achieve. An unrealizable dream.