Feb 2
Nightwing (2016) #84
I'm not crying my eyes are just melting
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Nightwing (2016) #84
I'm not crying my eyes are just melting
In Tawny Man. When Beloved just wanted to die freezing next to Fitz. Wanted to die sleepily and slow next to the man he loved. Next to his only source of warmth. Wanted to die with his head on his shoulder and breathe in his hair.
i can just FEEL the anguish and pain in his voice. what more the moment they animate his death? god fuck
and kizaru?? dont even get me started on how he was visibly made to hold back his tears.
Just finished sort...I'm wrecked
All I can think of is haymitch telling effie that he liked her better w/o all the makeup and her replying that she liked him sober but now I'm literally in physical pain thinking they both saw that side of each other.
Effie saw haymitch sober before his life was turned upside down and haymitch saw her before the capitol got it's claws deep in her.
GODDDAMNNN 🥵🥵
credits to @havenlix_ on TikTok 🩵
You ever have something ur so wildly and urgently obsessed with that watching a video or reading about it simply not enough
I need to like physically merge with this media product or have it injected into my veins or something
@mentatemperor said: My muse asks your muse to say their name again, just to hear how it sounds.
she wonders at how long its been since someone said muad'dib's name, not this false epithet synonymous with genocide and slaughter ... an off-world cleansing trickling slowly through arrakis. she does not know her own people anymore. they are whatever shape mahdi forms them into. right now a trembling close fist, stretched out, clamped tightly over the base of her throat. it hurts to see how gentle each interaction is, he treads through the wasteland of their love with familiar eagerness. for a second there's only paul, sat next to her on a dune, eyes the color of lush earth using the bow of her lips as a fixed point. his chin feels the exact same beneath her thumb as it presses there, steadying that fear drunk, far away, look on his face. ❝ paul, ❞ the exact placement of his name on her tongue was so sublime she does forget. the breaks in her start scabbing over...
he looks tired. hair wind swept when fingers push through strands, palm settling against the side of his skull. cupping carefully. comforting him came natural, stretched impossibly tight around her bones now, if she were ever split open they'd find his name etched into them. ❝ usul ... are you unwell? ❞
God, working out made me so incredibly tired today. Terribly need to improve my stamina as much as I hate cardio, which means
...
Agh...
I ought to do more cardio things passively outside of my calisthenics group classes.
Fucking hate that. But I won't improve otherwise
Ignoring the fact that I do 15minute cycling before and after the work out though (with the workout taking about an hour). Fucked by 30minutes already.