#i love him so much for it T^T

[fragcc]

Kon: “Did you see the way I took out that robot with my TTK. I bet Tim did. He probably is dying for me to fuck his hot, tight, sweet bisexual ass.”

Bart, setting his drink down: “Is there… is there something you want to me tell me?”

CRYING SCREAMING ROLLING ON THE FLOOR‐

Kon, lifting up debris like they weight nothing: I bet Tim is probably having very bisexual thoughts right now about how easily I could just wrap my hands around his tiny waist and lift him up like he's a doll or pin him down to fuck him through the mattress until there's not a single coherent thought passing through that genius brain of his and all he can do is moan my name and beg for sweet mercy–

Kon:

Kon: why do I have a boner.

[bacchuschucklefuck]

they tried to rebrand as The Criminals but riz is literally the city council's treasurer and also turns out people in their late 20s don't really name their friend groups. so now they're The Intrepid Heroes

[muirmarie]

jim being canonically the shortest one of the triumvirate is genuinely so important to me lmao, like yesssssss, let that beefy babe be shorter than both his boyfriends!!!!

[ghostbkg]

🌱🍅 umemiya hajime

[ruporas]

invisible scars (referenced previous talk here)

[ID: A colourless, digital Trigun comic of Vash and Wolfwood talking about Wolfwood's scars. They're both laying in bed and topless. Vash lays on top of Wolfwood, playing with the rosary around his neck. Then, Vash kisses a spot on Wolfwood's chest. Wolfwood asks, "What are you doing?" Vash smiles sadly, "You got shot here. In the last town we visited. You didn't even bother moving."

Vash props himself up over Wolfwood, who frowns slightly. Wolfwood is quiet for a moment before he says, "You remember that, huh?" Vash grabs Wolfwood's left wrist and brings it to his face. "And here." He kisses another spot there. "When you helped free the hostages from that robber..." Wolfwood dismissively says, looking away, "Was a lucky shot." Vash huffs, “Don’t brag. Jeez.”

Half of Wolfwood's expression is shown, eyes returning to Vash who is now sitting up, continuing to say, "And..." Vash goes on and kiss Wolfwood's right palm. "You got cut here, even though that girl was aiming at me." A moment from the past flashes, of Wolfwood grabbing a knife aimed at Vash, his hand bleeding.

At present, Vash moves down and puts another kiss on Wolfwood's right shoulder. "And here, from watching my back." Another memory flashes of Wolfwood and Vash back to back. Vash looks back as Wolfwood grins while holding Punisher, bleeding from multiple gunshots in his shoulder.

"And," Vash combs up Wolfwood's hair to reveal his forehead, "Here." A final memory shows Wolfwood with a regeneration vial in his mouth while getting shot on his temple. The next panel is framed in blood with Vash at the center, eyes wide and stunned in horror. The next panel is a closed up shot of Wolfwood's eye, locked on Vash's face.

Back to present, Vash’s head is bowed down as Wolfwood raises a hand to his nape and says, “Spikey.”

Wolfwood looks serious and frowns as he says, "We talked about this. Those were my decisions. They're not there anymore. Forget about them." Vash looks very sad before he smiles ruefully and says, "I still see them. All the time." He leans down so they touch foreheads. Wolfwood’s sorrowful expression can be seen as Vash says, "You protect so much. I could never forget what you've done to me. And many others..."

In the last image, they're drawn more cartoonishly. Wolfwood sweats and asks, "You don't actually remember every wound, right?" Vash points at a spot on his chest. "Kuroneko left a scratch here 7 times." Wolfwood, startled, says, "Why the hell are you keeping count—" End ID]

Credits for ID here and here

[shaadowmilkcookie]

One of Shadow Milk’s many prop replicas of himself, left behind. Even though the eyes are forever staring straight into the distance… Oddly enough, you still feel like you’re being watched.

But surely, though, it won’t hurt to take it home and touch up the colours, right? :)

[bafflingplanet]

anybody still fw camp here and there 😭🤫😊🐛

[fluffyartbl0g]

Someone get this man a younger sibling that ISNT like. Twice his height.

[ktsumu]

A CHILDHOOD BEDROOM tw: allusions to divorce/his family dynamic, holiday comfort for the soul

Ushijima’s bedroom is nothing like the one you share. 

His walls are bare, save for a few frames with pictures that are older than the two of you. There’s a bulletin above his desk that’s naked down to the cork, a few tacks littering it at random.

He has his dresser, a small mirror on the wall hanging above it. The room is nearly devoid of colour aside from beige and navy, but the Christmas lights from the house across the street give it some red and green. Not much, but it’s good enough.

You walk along the perimeter of the room, the floors cold, hands tracing over his desk and chair. He watches you from the doorway, the door closing softly behind him as he does. You hear the same floor creak beneath his feet as he crosses to his bed, the frame sighing under his weight.

A print-out picture of him and a redhead (Satori, he’s mentioned) standing side-by-side in school uniforms is framed on said desk, thumbs up on all four of their combined hands. A team in maroon stands tall beside it, and he’s dead center. A three-person family — father, mother, boy — takes up the space beside that, the frame much more sophisticated than the others. He looks about ten.

The clock on his wall tells the time wrong; it hasn’t been reset since he graduated and moved out at eighteen. It looks like it’s a few hours behind, but it’s really telling you time six years back. 

“Your walls are so bare,” you comment, turning back to look at him where he’s sat. He offers an almost unnoticeable, lopsided smile. “Where are all the medals, huh? I’ve heard big things about Ushiwaka the Great, you know.”

You’re joking, but he answers, “In my drawer.”

(You check; it’s full of them.)

Ushijima watches you hold them, looking at all of the engravings before setting them back, the years stretching further back the deeper that you dig. It’s like your chest is swelling with pride over things he won before you knew him. 

“What is it?” he asks, eyes following you as you cross over to his bed, sitting down to face him. His brows furrow, leaning his back against the headboard that looks so comically small; then his lips tug up at the sight of gold around your neck. His teenage pride rests on your chest.

There is something so invasive about a childhood bedroom, about wearing what once was his entire life as he looks at it — a whole life you didn’t have the chance to watch lays itself out in front of you. This childhood doesn’t exist anymore (maybe it never really did) and yet you see it around you all the same. 

(It is invasive, but it is full of love. An empty room that feels so full.)

“Why doesn’t your mother display your medals in the house?” you ask, tilting your head. “Hell, my mom would’ve lined mine up in the window. And your desk is like a trophy factory.”

 “It’s not practical, I suppose.”

“So they just sit in here?”

Ushijima looks at you like he’s in thought. 

He shrugs. “Mostly,” he says, “my father has a few in California. My player portrait is on his office wall. My mother shows her affection in her own way.”

“Can we take some back home?”

“Why? They’re old.”

“I don’t mind,” you say, shrugging. “I’ll display them around the room for a bit, swap ‘em out when you rack some up this season.”

Ushijima just chuckles shortly, shaking his head as he moves down the bed, laying down flat. His feet hang off the end a bit, and the pillows are the same as they always were. “If you wish. You know I never stop you from anything.”

You hum. “God, does it echo in here?”

“Sometimes. It never used to.”

“When did it start?”

He knows when. “I’m not sure.”

You know, too. “That’s okay. Our room at home doesn’t echo, at least.”

“No, you won’t let it.”

“Never.”

Ushijima reaches out a hand, his left, and he twirls the medal you picked in his hand. You wear it still, and it looks like it gleams. His eyes flicker up to yours. 

“I love you,” you tell him. “You and your empty room.”

He sighs a laugh, one you taught him how to make, and he pulls you into his chest by the ribbon around your neck. He breathes, your head rises and falls with his chest, and the room comes alive; breathing with its maker, welcoming him home the best it can. You certainly help.

Ushijima looks at his bedroom walls, his broken clock; the house is not resetting, his parents’ old bed will always be half full and half made, but he thinks this is enough — coming back with you was enough. Now, when he leaves, he will remember a warm bed and leave to sleep in a warmer one. 

“Love?”

“Mm?”

“When we find a home we like enough to live in,” When. Not if, when. “I’d like to paint the walls with you.”

“Ooh, what colour?”

“Not white — or beige.”

You grin, angling your head up to see him. Ushijima is looking up at his clock, six years behind like he just got home from training camp, his boxes packed for the city.

(He meets you two years later.)

“Pick a swatch, baby. Just no neons.”

“Oh. I was thinking of a traffic cone orange.”

“Ha-ha.”

[r-truth]

[crybaby-bkg]

I loveee the concept of reincarnation bc it’s just so comforting!!!

oh to be reincarnated lovers with Bakugou where you find each other every life time and leave a memory of the other to find in the next lifetime. You see each other in a new lifetime, drawn to each other, swearing familiarity even though your minds disagree. But it’s something deeper within you that knows each other, misses the others embrace, and you can’t figure out why.

There’s a famous painting of someone who looks suspiciously like you made in the 1600s by some tortured artist, the muse a lover he had lost years before. There’s a statue that looks just like Bakugou from the 1800s, who everyone thought to be created after Apollo, but you beg to differ. There are letters found between two lovers, one gone off to war and the other at home, their exchange of love something poets discuss in contemporary times. Theres even skeletons found embracing each other, with one’s head tucked into the others neck.

And for some reason, every time, these figments of love appeal to you deeper than anyone else around you. They’re so familiar, and you think you might be going crazy when flashes of memories start to plague you.

Sitting in a darkly lit room, a slate of white marble in front of you, a point chisel in hand. There’s a blond man sitting behind the marble, with a sly grin, as your hands raise to start chipping away at its flawless perfection.

Sitting at home, writing away with a quilled pen to a lover you miss. Kissing the edge of the paper and pulling away to find it stained with red from your lips.

Laying in the soft grass, your face hidden in a strong neck as heavy winds start to take over you. Your arms entangled in another’s, tilting your face up to kiss a blond, stubbled jaw.

When Bakugou tells you he remembers the same things, you wonder if you’re both just on a bad trip from a drug you don’t remember taking. But you carve your names in tree trunks and wonder if you’ll find find it again hundreds of years later, if you’ll see him again, if you’ll create another piece of your unyielding love on every crevice of the earth.

[lacebird]

HAYDEN CHRISTENSEN

Photographed by Rick DeMint (@portroids) on March 21, 2024.

[freckled-forests]

I love our core trio, featuring law-abiding characters like Alex "the only crime you can go to prison for is murder" Rider, Kyra "if their firewalls aren't strong enough to keep me out they don't deserve privacy" Vaschenko-Chao, and Tom "I don't think girls and boys should sleep in the same room together" Harris

[chosetoseethebestinyou]

*RTD writing a grand finale where old companions come back and he teases a David Tennant regeneration but then he just splits in half and one of him gets to live his well deserved happily ever after*

[eurydia]

fake romance scenes - A Gentle Path (7/-) my latest Tavlor fic, A Gentle Path, is now available to read on Ao3! dedicated to my wonderful friend and fellow Zev enjoyer @dark-and-kawaii ❤️ a SFW, mostly dialogue one shot of Tav and Zevlor having a heart to heart at the caves.

this line is actually delivered by Glen in this beautiful Cameo: [Zevlor accepting a romance during the celebration]

[A Gentle Path on Ao3]

[thisplainsimplefeeling]

“the affection you feel for spock” bones u have me kicking my feet in the air rn