(head In Hands) - Tumblr Posts

STOP IT. HE IS SO FUCKING CUTE I JUST WANNA SQUISH HIM IN THIS STYLE- 😭😭🫶🫶

*flings him into the ask box* Go to town, my guy

I AM SO SORRY IT TOOK FOREVER

ANYWAY ENDLESS PATS FOR UR OC HE LOOKS V SWAG

just a very rough idea about rapunzel and la bête

something about how they travelled together for a time to arrive in this neverafter. something about being polar opposites—a diplomat with honeyed greetings and an innocent face versus a warrior with the form of a beast and few words—but also being so similar, a front built to survive in their worlds. something about being called monstrous. something about being honest, and how la bête values it. something about rapunzel being able to ‘let her hair down’ around her because of it. something something

“some have called me the boy of destiny, i see myself only as the son of gepetto” is so sweet oh my god what a way to introduce yourself

the thing that works so well in the nimona movie is that in both scenarios with gloreth and the director/the institute, nimona does NOT cause the destruction of the city/village. it is their own fear that causes them to lash out in ways that only hurt and destroy everything they thought they were protecting. nimona didn't do anything either time- it is their own fear which makes them stupid and destructive.

New tommyinnit vlog got me crying

Hey Whizzers favorite flowers are roses right. Because roses are a symbol of deep love. And Whizzer likes casual sex. Right guys.

I can't live love laugh in these conditions horikoshi

I just saw someone on tiktok point this out.

I am not okay.

If this is intentional (which it seems to be) I'ma kill myself (not rlly I just love these two so much and am so distraught about them)

guys the scu cast is so good idk what all the complaints are about

Their POV

✅ tortured by Voices

✅ cursed by god

✅ small waist

✅ criminal record

✅ died once

Diagnosis: babygirl

Scavengers get animus magic, because why not?

🔮

I am unable to comprehend the fact that Bullfrog is not a more well known character aaaaaaaaa

I’m rereading book 15 and I relate to Bullfrog sm I don’t understand how I forgot about him 😭

I think it’s sad that he was only featured in 15 and never mentioned again because MudWings have very little development or characters, and I think more MudWing characters would have been really awesome to see

.

All my good writting ideas are too tiny to write in a fic, too big to write in a post and just the good size to make into a tiny silly comic but I CANT DRAW

okay but When is edge of the world coming out i cannot stop thinking about it

Egregiously obsessed with StellarWeave

Anon

Me too 🫠

"Huh, my intuition tells me that something very interesting is about to happen…" Happy Birthday to the number one detective, Shikanoin Heizou! (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ

Art by Skradio with some help from Arwaiel! 🌀 🍃

„Why can't I be happy?”

I was too touched by his storyline and it turned out to be a sketch of my tears..

content: suggestive, making out, stupid silly sweet

<><><><><>

on a sunny day, on a sunny planet, dan heng kisses you. 

you don’t think much about how it started, or the reasons behind it, or where you even are. march is surveying the town for something-or-other, and you had responsibilities to fulfill. but if dan heng finds that there’s no problem putting those off, then neither do you. 

if your memory serves you right (which it never does, evidently), you were both taking a break at some nice outdoor cafe. you held a cup of something warm and sweet in your hands and dan heng stared at you with syrupy eyes and twitching hands and lips that parted but never said anything. and you remember asking him dan heng, what is it? and suddenly your drink was on the table, barely touched, and both his hands reached for yours as he stood up and led you both away. 

Keep reading

KISS ME ONCE AGAIN ── silver x gn!reader, 1.6k

silver has always taken his time with you.

he has never been able to tell you why. lilia says that it is just the way he is, ever since he was a boy. he plays by the rules. he goes by a routine that is, as much as possible, not too affected by his strange sleeping habits.

it is why he goes through the meticulous steps of courting you, offering you flowers and gifting you with thoughtful trinkets and even writing letters for your family while your worlds remain separate. it is why it had to be you to take the first step and kiss him one night during a star-gazing date because gods damn it all, you’re sick of waiting.

( silver laughed and laughed that night as you apologised for your callous actions; because you were so cute, because he was so in love, because it all felt like a dream come true when he allowed himself to ignore tradition to cup your cheeks and pull you into another kiss. )

silver discovers very early on that even when he takes his time, it's all still overwhelming. like a dream come true, he used to tell lilia in bouts of deliriousness when he's still caught between dream and reality and his mind is too muddled with sleep to care about embarrassing himself in front of the fae who had raised him.

like a dream come true.

but what is his dream, exactly?

a cottage deep in the forest of briar valley, with ivy growing up the walls and over the red-tiled roof. soft, packed dirt with growing flowers of all kinds, spring blossoms of pink, yellow, blue, red, protected by a low wall. there are no horrors with dripping ink and dragging claws, no glowing emerald eyes or scaled wings. just grass and flowers and sky and nothing.

no. not nothing. because there's you.

"i just cleaned, so remember to take off your boots by the door!" silver hears you call out from inside the cottage. his chest quakes as he lets out a ragged breath, his bag dropping as he rids himself of the extra weight.

the floor below his dirty boots is clean slate compared to the cluttered kitchen to his left and the living area to his right. silver sees the same threadbare couch by the stone fireplace, cluttered with throw pillows and blankets and an unfinished knitting project. the couch is old. used. loved. there are some closed doors beyond the stairs, but silver doesn't have to check to know what lies behind them. his old childhood bedroom where lilia used to tuck him in. a bathroom that has been flooded one or more than a few times when he got too carried away with playtime. the small study where he used to have his lessons on reading and writing.

there's something about the sight of his childhood home that sets silver off, as if he’s caught in crosswinds, but he fumbles his way inside anyway, toeing his shoes off out of ingrained politeness. his footfalls feel heavy and light all at once against the wooden floors as he walks — almost as if by habit — to the kitchen where he had heard your voice come from.

"there you are," you beam at him, putting a kettle of water on top of the same stove that silver had watched his father cook his meals so many times. your brows furrow when you notice the strange expression on his face; the emotions whirling in his aurora irises like a hurricane and the trembling of his bottom lip.

you frown, wiping your hands on a cloth rag. "silver? what's wrong?"

silver lets out a ragged breath, his hand shaking as it comes up to cradle your own as you cup his face in your palm. what is wrong? this is all he's ever wanted, isn't it? a life with you in the woods he had grown up in, free of worries and dangers and hurt and anger. he's built a home with no fear, no yelling, no uncertainties. just like the life lilia always wanted to give him.

it's a dream come true.

"you're a dream," silver whispers when he realises, his hands coming up to cradle your face in turn. he's shaking, he knows that even with his mind whirling, but he just can't help it— he has to touch you, make sure this isn't— this isn't a nightmare—

no. no, no, no. malleus wouldn't do that. this is his dream. this is what his heart has always yearned for.

"my dream."

"well, aren't you sappy today?" you muse, lips quirking up in that soft smile that silver oh so adores to kiss. "what's the occasion?"

"i—" silver opens his mouth, but no words come out. what can he say? what can he do, knowing that this is all he's ever wanted, but this is a dream. this is a dream and you're not real but gods, does silver want you to be.

a beat passes, and your smile turns sad.

"you know, don't you?"

silver feels his heart ache. he wants to tell you no. no, please keep this veil over my eyes. pretend i don’t know this isn’t real. please. please.

you reach out, tucking a strand of hair behind his ear with such tenderness that silver feels like crying. “you’ve always been so smart, silver.”

“i’m sorry,” he allows himself to say, because this is the least he owes you— this perfect imitation of you that his mind, malleus’s magic, has managed to conjure, because in the short time you’ve known him, you’ve managed to ingrain yourself into every fibre of his being so that even under this spell, all silver can dream about is you, you, you.

silver doesn't want to wake up. he doesn't, he really doesn't. there's something in him that pulls at his heartstrings, tugging at every vein and nerve as if begging him to stay, please stay. there must be a reason why you're always falling asleep, why this had to happen. just stay. this is a dream come true, why would you want to wake up?

“you’re still there,” silver says in a voice so small, it feels like he’s a little boy again, crying and clinging onto lilia like the fever that sticks to his skin and reminds him of his mortality.

“you’re still there, and i’m here.”

his childhood home is small, but within the cottage and with your hands cradling his face, the thick walls feels unnaturally closer, like something is breathing on the back of his neck. he’s reminded of you, somewhere in night raven college, trapped within your own dream. do you think of him, he wonders? has he become your new dream, just as you have become his?

will he ever see you again?

silver can't bear the thought of you somehow waking up from your dream — a matter of when rather than if, because silver knows that you've always had a knack for getting out of impossible situations like this — and realising that he had left you alone to stay in this eternal sleep, with this dream– this illusion of what could have been.

“i have to go,” silver whispers, and his heart breaks because this might be a dream, but it’s still you. how can he tell you he’s going to leave? he can’t do that. he can’t break your heart like that, he can’t—

"i'm sorry. i'm sorry— i'm so, so sorry.”

he expects you to stop him. what do the stories say about dreams where you’re supposed to be kept unaware, blissfully oblivious to the fact that this utopia is not your reality? silver expects this dream version of you to pull some sort of trick to lure him back into your trap—

but instead you just smile softly, reaching out to stroke his face, "how lucky i am to have someone like you love me."

silver hears something crack, resonating in his soul. is it the chains of malleus’s magic breaking its hold on him, or the last pieces of his heart shattering at last? he doesn’t know.

maybe it’s both.

but whatever it is, silver knows he doesn’t have much time. his hands cup your cheeks, pulling you close to him with the desperation of a dying man.

he feels you gasp against his mouth, lips parting and allowing his tongue to slip inside. he maps the cavern of your mouth as if immortalising it in his mind, like he’ll never see you again after this— because that is very well a possibility, no matter how he tries to ignore it.

silver kisses you like it’s his last day in this godforsaken world, because it might as well be, and great seven, he should have done this every time he kissed you. he should have kissed you first. he should have kissed you every moment he could instead of taking his time because now he can hear the sand running in the hourglass, and he’s blind to how much time he has left, and he just wants to see you in the flesh again, please, please, please—

the two of you part an eternity later, but it still feels much too soon. there’s so much love in him, and too little time, and silver feels like drowning.

"wait for me," silver pleads. he'll make this dream come true, he swears. he’ll give you all the love he has in this wretched body of his, and then some. he’ll never sleep again even, if only to make this dream come true.

"i will," you whisper breathlessly—

—and with a bittersweet smile and a final, fleeting kiss to his lips, you let him go.

© trappolia 2024