#and now his verse is just there

[wordsinhaled]

it was really only a matter of time until edwardian payneland happened and what if i channeled maurice about it. just a little

-

Charles is the son of the groundskeeper at St. Hilarion's School for Boys while Edwin is a pupil there. And he can't help but notice Edwin—how he’s nearly always alone, or else being harangued by the cruel older boys who call themselves his peers.

Charles privately thinks they hardly seem equal to him in poise or grace or manner. They are boisterous, brash, crass, violent, all overlaid with a veneer of false propriety, but Charles can see the cracks in it. He knows that sort by how they are inside, and they cannot be like Edwin at all. No, Edwin Paine's got a sad, drawn sort of look about him that Charles can't help recognizing. This lonely boy who feels somehow kindred in a way he can't put a finger on, but is pulled to him all the same, though by rights he'd do better to keep his distance.

Edwin often sits by the lake by himself, to read, or to do his assignments in the shade of the trees. Picturesque as a painting, he is. One day Charles dares to approach him, though he knows the risk in it—prepared to be rebuffed, rebuked for his untoward attention to someone he is meant to ignore; but the boy does not turn him away.

And so they become friends. Tentative, and then less and less so.

Together they explore the school's sprawling grounds, all of whose surprising hiding-places Charles Rowland knows by heart, having wandered them himself for years and made them his own refuge. The woods become theirs; the shore by the lake theirs; the shade of the trees theirs. The attic, where no one comes to look for them in the dead of night, also theirs.

And then one day Charles notices a group of boys surrounding Edwin. The usual cadre, and they're posturing, their voices loud in the autumn air. They’ve ripped Edwin's penny magazine from his grip and are tearing pages out of it, scattering them to be plucked up by the wind. Charles can do nothing else but step in. He shouts at them to back off, puts himself between them and Edwin, and gets himself thrashed for his trouble—but they, at least, finally leave Edwin alone.

Edwin, for his part, cannot believe Charles would be so reckless for his sake. Charles has not yet mentioned to him that he is used to this sort of treatment, and sees worse at home. They sit together in the boathouse by the lake, cross-legged, close enough for Edwin to dab carefully at Charles’ split lip and bleeding knuckles.

“You should not have done that for me,” he chides, though it carries no heat. “What will happen now?” He thinks word is sure to get back to the school, and there will be a scandal. Those boys, who so vocally despise Edwin, will hardly be quiet in their outrage, their humiliation. Charles’ father might be relieved of his post, and then Charles’ family will have to leave St. Hilarion’s. That is how these things go.

And what was it all for? For Edwin? How could it have been worth it?

“Doesn’t matter, does it?" Charles is saying, when Edwin surfaces from his troubled thoughts. "Couldn’t let them treat you like that. They had you five to one. And that, just ‘cause you’re different. I know how it is.” Charles’ eyelashes are very long, and the light turns his eyes a warm, deep amber as he talks fiercely, insistently, in defense of Edwin.

It’s terribly forward, Edwin thinks. And, despite every misgiving, he welcomes it. No one has ever fought for Edwin before. No one has ever spoken about him with such conviction.

Then Charles seems to lapse into pensiveness. “You didn’t have to…” he says softly. "All this." He gestures, with the free hand Edwin isn’t busy wrapping up, at the little bottle of antiseptic, the scissors, the roll of bandages and the cloths, all spread out on the floorboards between them.

“Of course I did,” Edwin says.

Really, he had not given it much consideration. He had had only the presence of mind to memorize the sight of Charles kneeling in the dew-damp grass, angry gaze still spitting fire at the backs of Edwin’s retreating bullies. He’d had blood in his bared teeth, and the briefest flash of desire had seared through Edwin—to kiss him. Merely in thanks, perhaps, but still, to kiss him.

He would know the warmth of Charles’ mouth. Fleeting, forbidden, it would sear itself into his mind for ever.

Of course, he had done no such thing; for he could not. Instead, he’d done the only thing he could do—bent low towards Charles, and squeezed his shoulder once, as if to say, Wait here for me. I will come back to you.

And as he'd turned on his heel and gone off in the direction of the infirmary, leaving Charles there with dusk encroaching, Edwin had hoped Charles understood his gesture for the indelible promise it was.

[pepperpixel]

Some quick lil pics of this guy!!! He is my baby girl… my goofy goober… my terrifying cross dimensional sweetie pie..

[silusvesuius]

stuff heavily referenced from clive hicks-jenkins' art cus i've been rly into it lately 🥰

cute idea scribblings for the last drawing..lol

[sysig]

I think the world is so wonderful... (Patreon)

[thisisnotthenerd]

thinking about riz gukgak and how he feels so alone and yet how his words, his works, are the first thought for his friends when they don’t know what to do

thinking about how love is work, how love is the act of giving and giving and giving until you have nothing left and yet he cannot ever prioritize himself

thinking about how he takes every nickname, every gift, every moment of care with an eagerness that far outstrips the gift in its giving

thinking about how his every stress comes from a moment of devotion and care for his friends, from unraveling the mysteries that permeate their lives

thinking about how he could call them to action with a single warning because they trust in him so much

thinking about how he justifies what he gives to his friends even as his mother asks him to consider himself for once

thinking about riz ‘the ball’ gukgak

[livwritesstuff]

‘Tis officially prom season in the US and I’ve been thinking about how that would go for Steve and Eddie and their daughters.

Steve might have managed to use his chronic migraines to weasel his way out of trips to the mall for the girls’ entire lives, but he suddenly finds himself conveniently immune when the girls ask him to run point on their prom dress-shopping crusade.

In the end, the most difficult out of their three daughters was Moe by a mile. Over time, Steve had gathered that all the dressing up surrounding formal events was a rare source of insecurity for Moe. She managed to avoid her junior prom (even though Steve knew she wanted to go, and she’d moped around the house that entire night). When her senior prom rolled around, Eddie and Steve conspired with Moe’s best friend Gray to make sure that Moe actually went this time.

That was when Steve got roped into dress-shopping with Moe, which didn’t see a strong start to begin with and ended in a total meltdown on Moe’s part about how much she hates dresses.

“So don’t wear a dress!” Steve told her from outside the fitting room, “Moe – nothing about this is that serious. If you hate dresses, wear a suit. Wear your damn basketball uniform. It doesn’t matter. What matters is you go and you have fun or whatever. Gray really wants to go, and you and I both know that Gray isn’t gonna go if you don’t.”

Apparently, that was the right thing to say, and Moe ends up wearing something along the lines of this (the tie is Steve’s, the lapel pin on the pocket is one of Eddie’s).

Robbie surprised Steve by actually being excited about prom. She’s not usually into that kind of thing (especially when it’s school-sanctioned), but she’s got all of Eddie’s flair for dramatics so maybe it actually kind of makes sense. She went into dress-shopping with a vision (“I’m thinking Kate Winslet’s red dress in Titanic meets Bride of Frankenstein” which, frankly, Steve didn’t think was possible) but she’s Robbie, so she had enough blind determination to pull it off. It takes twenty-two grueling hours over the span of two weekends, but she pulls it off.

Imagine a combination of this and this and that’s what Robbie finds (she also says, “It’s kinda vintage, right?” which kills Steve a little bit because, sure, maybe it’s similar to Erica’s prom dress in ‘93 – but since the hell when were the nineties vintage?)

Out of the three, Hazel was the one who looked forward to prom the most, especially after watching her sisters get to go for years, and she’s also the “girliest” (objectively speaking) – she loves makeup and pretty things and dressing up nice, so she was over-the-moon when it was finally her turn.

Steve went into dress-shopping with Hazel prepared for a long and painful battle just like he’d done with the other two, but then Hazel ends up falling in love with one of the first dresses she tries on, and suddenly Steve is like, “Wait-wait-wait, that’s it??? It’s over”. He definitely doesn’t appreciate the wake-up call that his littlest girl is practically all grown up.

Hazel is also the only one who goes to both her junior prom and her senior prom. She wears something like this to her junior prom and this to her senior prom, and Steve is a total mess both times.

[multicolour-ink]

Thinking about how Sonic didn't believe for a second that he was big brother material, then meeting Tails and being like "You're my sibling now". T-T

[goldensunset]

O you, who at the world's far-off end dwell,

I know your wish- it is my wish as well.

[yuwuta]

PLS PLS PLSSSSS keep talking about kids with olympic athletes! gojo and nanami pls pls pls i have to Know. everything u wrote about yuuta was already so so cute

(prev olympics au here)

the gojo twins are hilarious because your baby boy looks exactly like satoru, but has very little of his personality—it seems like the only things he inherited was satoru’s love for sweets and love for you. still, even though he’s a strong swimmer, he much prefers to relax in his floaties alongside you if you’re also in the pool, or chill by your side on a lounge chair, glasses too big for his face keeping the sun out of his eyes as he shares his smoothie with you, and asks to borrow your phone to take pictures of his sister and daddy in the pool. 

your baby girl on the other hand… she might have your face but she’s got satoru’s everything else—his competitive streak, his confidence, and definitely his mischievous nature. she’s the one who tiptoes into your bedroom at five in the morning, tapping at her daddy’s shoulders, and putting her little finger over his lip to shush him before he can wake you up; she’s always the one to convince satoru to take her swimming the backyard at the crack of dawn, and why by the time you and your baby boy wake up, she and satoru are already past warm up laps and swimming lessons and onto who can make the splashiest canonball competitions (she always wins because while her tiny body can endure a belly flop, satoru’s years of training physically doesn’t allow him to do it… and maybe because he’s not so competitive when it comes to his baby girl, he’ll always let her win). 

kento’s professional judo career honestly doesn’t last very long. after his first olympic games, you two start dating and he proposes just after he wins gold the second time he’s in the olympics; he does maybe two more years of national competitions while you’re pregnant, and decides that the intense training for the next two years in preparation of a third olympic competition isn’t worth missing time he could spend with you or your baby girl—plus, with all the money he’s made from competitions, winning gold medals, brand ambassadorships, commercials, and collaborations, he had enough money to provide for all of your for the rest of your lives. so, that’s what he does (his dream has always been to be a househusband, anyway...) his previous salaryman career comes in handy when deciding how to invest his money, how to buy a house, how to take care of his friends, how to set up a fund for your daughter, and an extra account or two… just incase more babies come along… 

by the time your baby girl is four, she’s already kento’s biggest fan. she loudly and proudly proclaims to everybody that her daddy was basically superman and won all the shiny trophies and medals in the house from when he was being a superhero. if anyone recognizes kento when they’re out together, she always confirms their suspicions, proudly boasting, “yeah kento is my daddy! he’s a winner!” it always makes kento’s heart swell to hear her praise. he doesn’t compete professionally anymore, but he does train from time to time, and has taken on a few mentees, and your daughter LOVES to watch him coach/train. she’s got her own uniform that she always puts on whenever they go to the gym together, and gets so excited when kento or ino or yuuji pretend to spar with her. 

she’s honestly kento’s mini figure. she’s respectful and reserved, but strong and knows when to fight and how to use her voice. there’s a time when he gets a call from her school saying that she got in a fight, the principal frames it as your daughter needlessly pushing around an older kid, but your daughter is certain in her words when she tells her dad that it was because the kid was being mean to the younger kids, and to her. kento doesn’t say a word to the teachers—doesn’t even fight them sending her home early for the day, because he’s happy to scoop her up and take her out for ice cream and tell her that he’s proud of her.

[sillyravenpassingby]

Helloooo??!! Listen to meeeee Gwen wanted to hold hands with Miles at the clock tower so bad she ended up going for a handshake😭

[fortes-fortuna-iogurtum]

I've been reading Exodus lately and I've just gotten to the portions where God gives the first commands to the people via Moses (twice), and then goes on to give detailed instructions about the tabernacle and how it should be built, and I'm just... we think art is unimportant?? we think things only mean as much as their functionality?? we so easily fall into the trap of believing that beauty means nothing, that it's cheap and only worth whatever mindless distraction it brings, that it's barely more than a cheap sensual thrill, that buildings should just be practical and plain and cheap, that everything should be functional but ultimately disposable, that paintings and dresses and mugs and curtains and carpets are just pretty but have no real value, that beauty is fleeting and vain and therefore shouldn't be thought about too much, if even looked for at all... we fall into these traps so easily, and we forget that there are chapters upon chapters of painstakingly detailed plans to build one portable worship tent, and those plans have been handed down through thousands of years of human history, because beauty and art and skill in craft is important

[m4ggotm0ld]

silly dude doing silly things:3

Storm joined him

[vaggieslefteye]

♫ This place reeks of death, there's a chill in the air. And I barely escaped being killed by a hair. ❝𝐆ʀᴇᴀᴛ 𝐀𝐋𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐎𝐑, 𝐀ʟᴛʀᴜɪsᴛ, 𝐃𝐈𝐄𝐃 𝐅ᴏʀ 𝐇ɪs 𝐅ʀɪᴇɴᴅs?❞ Sorry to disappoint, that is NOT where this ends! ♫

[nerdie-faerie]

I'm once again thinking about the missed opportunities to have Klaus and Kol bond more. Part of Klaus' whole motivation as a vampire is to get his werewolf part back and to finally be stronger than Mikael (sort of, I'm simplifying) both of which can be obtained by breaking his curse. But Kol? Kol is the only other original that can relate to having a fundamental part of themself ripped away from them. Klaus might not have known he was a werewolf until he killed, but he likely still had a connection he couldn't explain, as evident by him going to watch the wolves transform. And something he'd never been able to explain was now gone. He might only be able to realise the connection afterwards through its absence.

Kol though. Kol had grown up with magic, a connection to nature and the world around him in a way the rest of his siblings supposedly didn't have. And then he gets turned. And not only has his baby brother died, his father has just murdered him and the rest of his siblings after forcing them to drink human blood, which he'll later learn. Now, not only does he have to deal with the grief of Henrik's death and also his own but also the loss of his magic. A loss that's likely only worsened by Kol being a self-proclaimed child prodigy.

Kol is pretty much the only one who could understand what Klaus is going through with the binding of his wolf. We know Kol searched for ways to get his magic back/carry on practicing magic in the same way that Klaus was looking for ways to break his curse. While Klaus likely could still feel his wolf there despite being bound, Kol has no access to his magic anymore. I just think they should've been able to bond or connect over their shared loss of an intrinsic aspect of their selves at the hands of their parents

[thejadecount]

So I recently just got into Miles x Mikey (Shellshocked my beloved) and I just can’t help but to imagine Mikey getting ahold of a cloaking brooch and meeting Miles’ parents for the first time.

Rio: You can stay for the night if you li—

Jefferson: YOU CAN STAY FOREVER!

[invalidname19]

Watching On My Block for the 10th time