#Save awae

[justgirlythings-world]

[banilikesfictionalpeople]

I want a scene b/w Anne and Gilbert where both of them are at the beach or somewhere and Anne says: “wow, so beautiful!” And then Gilbert goes: “yeah, it is.” while staring at her with his heart eyes.

[ksnstars]

pov: anne trying to chime in on the conversations diana and jerry have in french

[bangtan-nizando]

Renew Anne with an E for season 4!!

[octisticsopinions]

Palestinians are dehumanised.

IDF soldier gets killed- "Gaza must burn."

Palestinian child gets killed- "that's just a part of war."

The same people who say it's horrible that an IDF soldier was killed in Gaza or Lebanon, will argue we should not care about the thousands upon thousands of Palestinian children murdered by the IDF, because apparently they forfeited the right to life just for being Palestinian.

It is seen as more appropriate to kill palestinian babies than adult IDF soldiers.

It's blatant white supremacy and it's vile. They inherently value Israeli lives more than Palestinian or Lebanese lives. How have we got to this point we thought we'd never return to?

It makes me sick. How can people cheer on the death of a child?

Mai te awa ki te moana.

[solivagantingrebel]

hey guys who wants another round of tmi

[swiftlark]

ok i have some definitive ideas

movie!anne > show!anne

movie!gilbert < show!gilbert

movie!diana >>>>> show!diana

movie!marilla << show!marilla

movie!matthew > show!matthew

[someawesomeamvs]

Warning: Spoilers, violence, flashing lights

Title: SAVE TO WIN

Editor: BioticAMVs

Song: Everybody Knows (cover)

Artist: Wild Fire

Anime: Boku no Hero Academia

Category: Action

Award: AWA Accolades 2023 - Best Action

[moonlight-eternal]

⏳

"You are all fools," Quelana says. "Gwyneth, Quelathi, you two have always been fools, though for different reasons. Quelaag, Gwyndolin, you're usually smarter than this. Come on, think it through!"

"I have thought as much as I need to," Gwyneth retorts, brash as ever. So little respect he has for anything but strength of arms, for which so little thought is ever needed. "If we succeed in this, then Father will have no need to sacrifice himself as he plans, for the First Flame will burn again without his kindling. That is reason enough."

"And if you fail?"

Quelaag opens her mouth to respond, but is cut off before she can speak by Gwyneth once more. "We shall not!"

On the other side of the room, Quelare puts her face in her hands and shakes her head. She turns away, but cannot bring herself to leave the room and stop listening.

"It is a wonderful and noble goal," Quelavere cuts in, trying to placate her older brother. "But I cannot feel confident in something so unprecedented. Tampering with a Lord Soul..."

Finally, Gwyndolin musters the courage to speak up. "Lord Souls are the closest thing known to the First Flame, born from it in those very first moments. I agree that the risk is significant, but the situation is becoming desperate. At the very least, we must do something. We must try."

"Everyone is depending on us, whether they know it or not," Quelathi adds.

Quelana sighs. "I understand that," she says carefully. "But there is a difference between controlled experimentation and wanton tinkering. Quelaag, I know it was not your idea, but you were the first to voice support and unlike Gwyneth you actually live here in Izalith, so... Could you not have asked Mother at any point before now, for permission to study the Lord Soul? Could you not have invited her to the discussion alongside us all?"

Quelaag shuffles her feet, and hesitates. "I– yes. I could have." She glances to her brother, then back. "He said it would be better not to involve her."

"Mother might put a stop to the plan," Gwyneth asserts. "She has no love for Father, this has been plainly known for centuries. Ever since she built this wretched place so far away, so deep beneath the earth as if to hide from the sunlight itself!"

Immediately, flames appear in the hands of several of the witch-sisters. Quelare stalks over to rejoin the group at last, tilting her head upward to meet Gwyneth's eyes. "Need we remind you that you are guests here, dear brothers? If you desire sunlight, then run along and bask in the rays above, and let those of us with more sense devise a plan."

She strikes her palm toward Gwyneth's chest, and in a display of great control, extinguishes the ball of flame just a fraction of a second before contact.

Gwyndolin looks down and pulls her traveling cloak tighter around her shoulders.

"Ah! Right, my apologies," Quelare says as her gaze passes over the youngest sibling. "You, singular brother and yet another sister, are guests in Izalith." To Gwyndolin alone, quieter: "If you want to fit in with the girls, we really must get you a proper black dress."

"If we could return to the topic at hand," Quelana emphasizes, glaring at each gathered sibling in turn. "That side of the room want to do something very rash, without any prior testing to learn the limits and the capabilities of what they would tamper with, and it could save the world or it could... well, we don't know what could happen if they fail, because they've done no testing. Meanwhile, on this side of the room, we have the level-headed people."

"You mean the people too scared to try to help," Quelaag tells her at once.

Quelavere inserts herself physically between the two, addressing the younger sister. "She means the people who favor caution, but not abandonment of the goal. I for one would love for Gwyneth's idea to succeed! But I cannot bring myself to participate, not if you go ahead with it right now."

"I will observe," the previously silent Quelaca finally speaks up. "But at the first sign of trouble, I will seek out Mother and inform her of the proceedings with her stolen Lord Soul."

"I too will watch from a safe distance," Quelavere says. "But I know such science is beyond my skill."

"I suspect it may be beyond any of us," Gwyndolin says quietly, but not quite soft enough to be unheard. "But I stand by my brother in this, even if in so little else. I cannot watch the world fade and do nothing. For all I wish to escape Father's watchful, controlling eye, I cannot allow his death to be without purpose."

Quelana looks around the group, and finds that the opposition is solidly outnumbered by those in favor and those abstaining. She sighs again, exasperated, and relents as much as she is able. "I'm not going near whatever you idiots cook up," she declares. "And when you fail to produce another First Flame, come back to me then and I can try, once again, to teach you the importance of using science in your magic."

"Quelana, please," her sister Quelathi begs. The youngest of those in Izalith, senior only to Gwyndolin, she has long since mastered the art of wide puppy eyes. "Mother's Lord Soul is the soul of Life. What better catalyst could there be, to create a Flame that rekindles our world's existence? How could it possibly lead to anything else?"

Quelana, ever the pragmatist, only frowns. "I would like to think you all are correct. I would like to have that hope, that something other than a direct linking of soul energy to the First Flame could suffice. I want you to know I am not opposed to the goal, or even the method! What is anathema to me is the recklessness. The risk. It is the fact that you are doing this without knowing that it will work."

"Then tell us," Gwyndolin asks her. "You are the closest thing we have to an expert on the mechanics of flame sorcery. Mother may have more raw power, Quelare may have more precise control, but you know how it works. Tell us, if we do this... what is the worst that could happen?"

[wrathful-reptile]

my completed breeding pairs, btw:

[dailyfinancial]

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[bangtan-nizando]

Renew Anne with an E for season 4!!

[innocation1]

Heartwarming McTap fan interaction ❤️ This person went on to live an amazing life as a heart surgeon, saving lives, all thanks to McTap. Who prevented a tradegy. Share three friends #heartwarming #mctap #innocation #new #inspirational #mentalhealth #awareness #fandom #celebs

[clumsycapitolunicorn]

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[fear-less]

₊˚⊹˚ 𐙚 what letter? sirius, what letter? 

pairing: james potter x f!reader

series summary ➥ In which, james has had longing feelings for you—christmas holidays are nearing and james confesses his love towards you in the letter, expect you never read the letter, didn’t know it existed.

Warnings: angst, fluff, james pov, this inspired by awae (aka the best show ever), James is complicated...ofc, nothing else

#1 she ignored my letter!

➥ In which, James writes you a love letter and hides it into your luggage carrying your clothes, not knowing he put it in a pocket you never open.

#2 she can date whoever she wants to, i don't care.

➥ In which, James and you still aren't on talking terms, he avoids you, never gets too close to you, yet complains to everyone when he sees you get close to your new charms partner.

#3 this is awkward..

➥ In which, you were fed up with James, deciding to put aside your pettiness you drag him away from the gryffindor party to talk to him.

#4 what letter? sirius, what letter?

➥ In which, you never planned on talking to james ever again, not after your last encounter with him. Luckily Sirius saves the day.

-- lmk if u wanna be tagged for any of these!!

[arget-star]

Umemiya’s favorite to wake you up is with kisses peppered all over face. Light, chaste little pecks placed with no true rhyme or reason, just wherever strikes his fancy, often interspersed with whispers of your name in the hopes his voice will filter into your dreams.

Slowly, you rouse, aware of the fleeting pressure gracing your cheeks, your nose. Soft strands of his hair tickle your forehead as he continues his ritual. He pauses on the apple of your right cheek; something must have shifted in your expression—or your breathing, perhaps—alerting him you’ve joined the land of the waking.

His bangs move off your forehead as he angles his head up just enough to plant a tender kiss on the space between your eyebrows. Cool air rushes in once he lifts away from you completely, your nose scrunching at the sensation.

“Good morning,” he greets, normally chipper voice roughened with sleep.

There is nothing quite like fluttering your eyes open and seeing a grinning, pillow mussed Ume hovering over you. He’s ridiculous, all puppy love eyes and frizzy hair, and you adore him for it. “Morning,” you smile back, shuffling your legs, the sheets rustling in time with your movements.

Panic flickers across his face; you can’t help the tired laugh that escapes you. “Not goin’ anywhere. Just stretching.”

He visibly relaxes, overdramatic sigh of relief brushing across your skin in a warm puff of air. Another laugh escapes you, undeniably fond. Ume lowers back down, pecking your lips once, twice, three times in quick succession, then buries his face in your neck with a contended hum.

“Sleep well?” You ask, freeing your arm from beneath the sheets, hand coming to rest atop his bicep. You trail your fingers up, pausing to toy with the hem of his t-shirt sleeve.

A press of lips against your shoulder. “Mhmmm. Did you?”

Your fingers round the slope of his own shoulder, featherlight against his neck. He shivers faintly, nuzzling further into you. Your questing fingers finally reach their destination, threading through his hair, nails gently scratching along his scalp. “I did.”

He makes a muffled sound of acknowledgement, followed by another kiss, body settling contentedly atop yours. “Oof”, you mutter, even as you relish the comforting weight. Ume shakes with a silent chuckle and you resist the urge to shove at his unfairly muscled chest in retaliation.

Instead, you shuffle around enough to turn your head, pressing a kiss to his temple.

He’s typically so energetic in the mornings, ready to take on the day the second you’re lucid. Days like this are rare—minutes stretching out like honey, spent quietly basking in the simple pleasure of a comfortable bed and his beloved in arms.

You haven’t outright asked him what spurs the change of pace. Not that you’re afraid he won’t answer; rather, you don’t want him to feel like he owes you an explanation for seeking extra comfort. He’s so quick to offer you whatever you need without expecting anything in return. Becoming his safe place in the same way is the lease you can do for him.

You know he dreams about his childhood. You know the grief will never truly fade, only ebb and flow, leaving him drained when the tidal wave crests too high. These precious mornings of soft sunlight and extra kisses help him break the surface and remember he’s not alone.

That’s your theory, anyway.

Planting another kiss on his temple, you hope it conveys even a fraction of the love you feel for him. “Haji,” you whisper, just to call him back to himself, fingers still rhythmically combing through his hair, “don’t think I’m quite awake yet.”

No reply, save for a kiss to your neck. Your hand stills as he moves to face you, scarred eyebrow raised, a ghost of a disbelieving smile twisting his mouth. “You sure?”

You exaggerate a yawn.

Something almost dangerous glints in his eyes. It’s the only warning you get before he’s kissing you all over again, complete with loud, obnoxious smooching noises. Your laughter rings out as you try to squirm away from the onslaught.

Warmth glows in his chest at the sound; the shadows at the edge of his thoughts may threaten to overwhelm him, but you’re always there to banish them with your never ending light.