#without you i die

[ricksmarlene]

Temperature malfunction. Your preferred temperature has been reached.

[planefood]

rules for thee and not for me

[ririchonne]

Beautiful fanarts! I Love the colored version. And the little touches that give it somehow more live: Rick’s grey hairs, Michonne’s brown locs and the light reflecting on the golden ring in her hair.

yea

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

How much longer 'til your luck runs out?

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[knifearo]

being aromantic is like. hey btw you're going to live a life that is the culmination of most of society's worst nightmares. sorry lol ✌️ but then you turn around and take a really good hard look at it and it turns out that living in that nightmare is fucking awesome and you get to wake up every day and take that fear that other people have and laugh and hold it close until it's a great joy for you instead. and being happy is a radical act that you define instead of someone else. and you're sexy as fuck that's just a fact of life i don't make the rules on that one

[speench]

nsbu fans listen to me, listen, most of the cast hasn't had an Ify moment yet where they talk directly to their ?? alter egos?? and before we see dynamics unfold with other characters I need everyone to consider: Liv and Kingskin as unwilling father and his newfound ride or die child trope that is all

[inamindfarfaraway]

It's so funny that Cass worked past her suicidal ideation by actually dying, allowing herself to be murdered, and then being brought back, so she could be like "Hmm. Disappointing" and move on with her life satisfied. All for the sake of being the most badass she could possibly be. Like. On one hand, she achieved her goal and did indeed get more badass afterward. But on the other hand. Therapy exists. She probably didn't need to do that.

[heybiji]

[yumenosakiacademy]

[flwrkid14]

When Obsession Meets Devotion, Tim and Danny learn to exist only for each other

Tim and Danny have days where they simply can't be apart for longer than 30 minutes, as if the physical distance between them burns. Sometimes, holding each other close isn’t enough—they crave something more visceral, like the overwhelming need to open each other’s ribcages, to crawl inside and be surrounded by the warmth of their partner’s heart—where they can truly find comfort, heart against heart, soul entwined. It's not just about closeness; it's about being inseparable in every possible way.

On certain days, there are times when Danny's Obsession screams at him. If he goes too long without seeing Tim, the need to care for, protect, and keep his beloved safe becomes impossible to ignore. His Obsession surges, pulling him toward Tim, begging to feel his pulse, his breath, to know that Tim is right there with him. It’s not just a want—it’s a primal need to make sure Tim is okay, that he hasn’t slipped through his fingers like everything else in his life. The distance feels unnatural, as if something fundamental is missing, and when he finally finds Tim, the world rights itself again.

For Tim, there are days where he feels a gnawing pit of anxiety in his chest, a voice reminding him of everyone who’s ever left. Those days, he seeks out Danny, fingers trembling until they brush against his skin, a silent question, needing reassurance that Danny isn’t going anywhere. The touch grounds him, reminds him that here, in this moment, Danny is staying. He’s not going to leave, he’s not going to disappear like so many before. On those days, Danny’s presence is more than just comforting; it’s survival.

There are days when words fail them both, and all that’s left is the quiet. In that silence, they hold each other, Tim’s head tucked under Danny’s chin, Danny’s arms wrapped protectively around him, and for a while, they let the world disappear. They don’t need anything else—just the steady thrum of each other’s heartbeat, reminding them they’re not alone. They’re together, and that’s all that matters.

For Danny, his need to care for Tim runs deep, more than just an Obsession—it’s a compulsion. And for Tim, his fear of being left alone draws him ever closer to Danny, making their bond something unbreakable. There are days where they can’t help but exist only for each other, as if the rest of the world fades away, and nothing matters but them.

It’s a reminder that even with the ghosts and the danger and the past trauma, sometimes all they need is each other. And that’s enough.

[literaila]

atf satoru try not to kiss wife for 24 hours challenge

“seven feet, satoru,” you tell him, moving yourself to the opposite end of the couch. “seven. feet.”

“but—“ he’s whining, obviously, and stretching his obnoxiously long body to fit the space you just left. his hands rub at the body warmth you’ve left behind longingly. “this is cruel and unusual punishment.”

you only roll your eyes, resuming your very diligent email checking.

“c’mon,” he pleads, throwing caution—and his glasses—to the wind. puppy eyes are very persuasive. “it’s been three hours.”

“oh good, only 21 more to go.”

satoru groans, pulling at his hair. “three hours.”

“three hours since what?”

you both look up, tsumiki standing at the end of the couch, smiling at you and scrunching her nose at satoru.

“morning, ‘miki, how’d you sleep?”

satoru whines again and shoves his face into the couch cushion—but not before he lifts his head so that tsumiki will give him a kiss on his forehead as she walks by, which she does, because she loves him or something.

she sits down next to you. “good. what’s wrong with him?”

you blink at satoru. “want to tell her what you did?”

“t’was a’ accident,” he mumbles, hanging his limbs in defeat.

tsumiki giggles again, but she still asks, “what did you do, dad?”

at that, satoru lifts his head. “nothing. i did nothing and your mother still refuses to touch me—i feel my limbs getting weak already,” he sits up, hand to his chest. “tsumiki i need you to call shoko.”

“shut up. you know what you did.”

he pouts.

“he pushed me out of bed in the middle of the night,” you tell tsumiki, shaking your head. “and he didn’t even wake up to check and see if i was alright.”

at that, tsumiki attempts to hold in a laugh—which she almost does, except she’s spent eight years living with the two of you so—

it’s safe to say that she coughs into her hands very subtly.

“i checked!” satoru argues, hands floating circles around his head. “i woke up from a very nice dream, which was ruined, and i tried to grab you but you weren’t there. i was all alone.”

“because you pushed me off—“

“why are you yelling,” and then your second child comes into the room and if satoru was going to win this fight—which he wasn’t—any chances have just been ruined.

“god,” satoru lays back down, turning so hes facing the couch, back to all of you. “i am a victim,” he says, very promptly and then shuts up.

tsumiki just gives megumi a little wave.

“sorry,” you say, even though you’re not sorry at all. “did we wake you up?”

megumi steps over your legs, his bed head very endearing. “no.” he sits next to tsumiki, resting a single palm on the top of her head as a hello. “where’s the coffee?”

“ask your father. he probably drank it all.”

megumi stares at satoru. white hair shakes sporadically, but the man-child makes no move to turn around.

you just shake your head, all of you waiting for satoru’s inevitable excuse.

[satans-knitwear]

Me: *trying to show u my nice necklace*

Sabine: GUYS LOOK WHAT I GOT! IT SQUEAKY!

Treat me ~ Tip Me ~ More of me

[wu-does-art]

theres not enough mono with teefs so have this. also theyre BOTH biters, c'mon guys!!

[theceaselessidiot]

Eloise Bridgerton being an absolute mood:

and Cressida's reaction of 'this girl is so weird, but I'm into it??? Wait am I into this??'':

[sunlit-mess]

consumed by the inevitable

[willowser]

i think if you and bakugou were together somehow, for whatever reason, in his final moments out there on the battlefield, he wouldn't lie to you.

if he was lying in the dirt and torn and smeared and pieces of him were missing, i think he'd grab you by the front of your shirt, as best as he could, and he'd know he was dying and he'd say,

"it's g-gonna be hard, but you'll make it,"

and you wouldn't be able to breathe or feel anything beyond the heavy numbness of your face and the impossibility in your stomach at what you're having to see, what you're having to hear. you wouldn't be able to speak or scream because you'd be crying too hard, pushing down on the holes in his body, because that's what you're supposed to do, right? only you don't have enough hands and—

you've never seen him so sad, with his own tears making tracks in the grime and blood on his face, his eyebrows twisted in a multitude of agony—but he would still grip your shirt and he still wouldn't lie and he would still tell you, "i know i-it's gonna be hard, but you'll fuckin' m-make it, okay?"

and you don't have the voice to argue with him, and you wouldn't have the time, either, because through the rage and war that's happening around you, only one hero would make it through to you in time, and he would know exactly what katsuki would want, in his final moments.

and you would be torn away, to a cold and devastating safety.