#and then...nada

[lilaccatholic]

...

[cardo-de-comer]

10/10 - "all is gone, none is won"

[yurieater69]

grown woman vs her alexa

[theoptia]

Carmen Laforet, from Nada

Text ID: My chest was heavy with a thousand daydreams and memories.

[taimanzano]

Prima and Megatronus TFone ship because @ororonebbia is planning a fic and I RUN.

[vamp-yro]

[pixeldehumo]

No me rompí de un solo golpe… me fui deshaciendo en silencio.

~pixeldehumo

[banal-nadas]

This. The fading of his armour to his DAI tunic. He’s shedding his Pride. He is becoming all he ever wanted of himself… for her.

“… I could have shared the truth, or even put my plans aside and simply stayed with you as Solas… as I wanted.”

[hussyknee]

Her final tweet on October 8 reads:

“Gaza’s night is dark apart from the glow of rockets, quiet apart from the sound of the bombs, terrifying apart from the comfort of prayer, black apart from the light of the martyrs. Good night, Gaza.”

[sherryblossommm]

Crowe x Bloody Queen

Inspirado en el post de @cronchybuffalo , hice mi versión de Crowe hunter basada en la Bloody Queen

Iba a imitar el estilo de Idv, pero después me dió flojera-

A ver si me animo después a hacerlo o(-(

Aquí está el post original

[snail-day]

Based off of this ask. Angst -> Fluff

Fighting with you sucks.

Satoru hates fighting. Hates how sharp his own voice sounds. Hates how your eyes narrow when you’re angry, especially when he knows he’s the one who made you look at him like that. When you both get too prideful. The both of you begin to throw words like fire.

And yeah, maybe it doesn’t happen often. Maybe you two don’t really blow up at each other unless something’s been simmering for a while. Something unsaid. Something he was too stubborn - or scared - to bring up. But when it finally bubbles over, it’s like throwing gasoline on the fire.

You say something. He says something back. Then suddenly, it’s not even about the original issue anymore, it’s everything all at once. All the little moments that built up to this one. He watches it happen like slow-motion glass shattering, and Satoru still can't stop himself from throwing the next stone.

Then silence.

You pull away. And Satoru lets you, even if it makes his chest ache. Even if it makes his hands shake a little while he’s pretending to scroll on his phone or clean something up. He tells himself he’s giving you space. That you need time. That he needs time.

But god, the second you talk again, really talk to him, it’s like the air comes back into his lungs. He's like a puppy who's released from time out.

He doesn’t even know when it happens, only that he’s behind you now, arms wrapping around your waist with the kind of desperation he tries to mask with theatrics. Kissing your shoulder, then your neck, then wherever he can reach. Smothering. Voice muffled against your skin as he sing-songs, “My loveeeeee, my loverrrrr, my love my love my love...”

He squeezes you tighter when you don’t push him away. Teases your little huffs and sighs and small little toru stop noises. He doesn't stop because you gave him the okay the moment you uttered a single word.

“Do you love me?” he murmurs, quieter this time, slight teasing. Slight insecurity lingering. “How much?”

You roll your eyes. Say something like “Not after that performance,” but he hears the warmth behind it. Still, he needs more.

“Only a little?” he asks again, nosing at your jaw, lips brushing your cheek. “I just... I need to know you’re still here.”

He’s not trying to forget the fight. He’s not even trying to fix it, really. He just needs to feel that you’re not going anywhere. That after everything, you’re still his. That he hasn’t loved too hard and burned it all down.

[depoesiaypoetas]

Cristian Llorens

[theoptia]

Carmen Laforet, from Nada

Text ID: You, […] have been my final hope and my final despair.

[radiance1]

Gotham was home to many strange things.

Dangerous things more often than not, yes, but still in the line of strange to those outside of Gotham.

Of course, their strange has become their normal.

But sometimes, things that happen in Gotham just makes them stare. Sometimes.

Watching a man walk through the streets, chatting amicably and smiling like everything is right in the word while holding none other than Killer Croc in his arms, who is clinging onto his neck and carefully trying not to fall off while nodding to show he's listening while also pitching in here and there with a question or statement or whatever.

It's just.

Odd.

Even by their standards.

(Meanwhile, Jack is very, very happy to finally reconnect with his older brother who he was, until just a few days prior, under the impression was dead.)

[tiiracotta]

Nadas Dirthalen grammar check ignored