Dec 5, 2023
Be honest with me - Makorrasami or Korvirasami?
My dude, are you a bot? Generic avatar, no posts, you don't even follow me.
In case that you aren't and to answer your question, none. This is and will forever be a Korrasami blog.
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Be honest with me - Makorrasami or Korvirasami?
My dude, are you a bot? Generic avatar, no posts, you don't even follow me.
In case that you aren't and to answer your question, none. This is and will forever be a Korrasami blog.
Ok..... who would win, Spider-Man or Batman and why, and under what circumstances? Help me settle a debate.
wistful
A/N: hello dudes i haven’t been on here in very long whoops but here’s a short fic from a draft i saved over a year ago! (is the fandom even active anymore)
“Spill.” Penny’s eyes are alight, her drink forgotten, staring eagerly at Baz. He has to laugh.
“Calm down, Bunce. It’s probably just a - I don’t know -” he waves his hand in the air carelessly. “probably an infatuation thing. Desperation. Whatever.”
Penny sighs, slumping back into her seat and stabbing her fork into her pancakes. They’re at breakfast and no one else is in the dining hall yet, and Penny’s fork clatters loudly against the plate as she sets it back down. “Hey, you never know. You kind of -” she pauses, thinking. “Become a little bit more alive when you talk about him.”
Baz raises an eyebrow. “Cheesy much?”
She huffs. “I’m just saying. Your eyes light up, you know. Cliches are cliches for a reason.”
“Chick flicks? Rom-coms?”
“I was going for ‘probably an apt description of someone in that particular situation’, but okay, sure.”
He can’t help chuckling. “Bunce, you’re becoming soft.”
“It’s six-thirty in the morning on a Saturday, Pitch. Let me live.”
He raises an eyebrow and tips the last of his coffee into his mouth.
Baz should not be playing a love song right now.
It’s not helping him forget anything, really.
Simon bloody Snow. Baz hates that name.
I don’t care what he looks like when he smiles, he repeats to himself, but the words echo hollowly against the flutter in his chest at that image.
The bow draws across the strings of the violin, and the clear notes ring through the air. All Baz sees is the darkness behind his eyelids, but he doesn’t even register that his eyes are closed. He’s gone, lost in the music, swaying back and forth. Somewhere at the back of his mind, a fleeting thought about checking the time hovers, because the music room shuts at six and he’d only gotten here at a quarter past five, but he’s too caught up to care, and it disappears.
“Hey,” a voice says, and Baz nearly drops his violin. He spins around to see Simon Snow leaning against the doorframe of the music room, arms folded, a small smile on his face. “That was amazing.”
Baz’s heart is going eighty kilometres an hour and he should really think of something witty to say, but all he manages to do is stutter out is a quiet “t-thanks.”
Simon shrugs. “No problem. Anyway, it’s getting late. Agatha’s about to lock up the room. I thought I heard someone in here and came to give you some warning.”
Baz tries to keep his face stony. “Ah. Yeah, I’ll start packing up. Thanks.”
Simon looks like he wants to say something else, but he just grins at Baz, eyes crinkling and turns to walk back down the hallway.
Baz sighs. Shit.
“phoenix looks like a dumbass but give him a copy of a shakespeare play and he can expertly point to and explain every dick joke in it”
@turnabout-rising
An Au Where Bobby Lives
Taka: *takes off his hawk mask, revealing a full-sized human head underneath*
Taka: Haha! It was Me, the Bird, all along!
not miles, but
Perimeterwalker: You know how Yung's always like "what's [x]" when he sees something he doesn't know?
Perimeterwalker: So he's chilling in the park with Phoenix like usual
Perimeterwalker: And in the middle of the conversation, he turns to Phoenix with this apparently serious expression
me: peri ur scarin me
Perimeterwalker: And says "hey Phoenix, what's updog?"
me: pHOENIX
me: stares in utter stunned silence
me: a lifetime of opportunities and he’s never had an opportunity this perfect.
me: the gates of Valhalla have opened to him. this is destiny extending its hand.
me: he’s…finally proven himself Dad Enough for whatever fate-controlling deity might be out there to present him with such a golden reward.
me: a dastardly yet proud smile creeps over his lips, eyes shining like they did in his youth, a joyous tension filling every space in his suddenly light body
me: and he speaks with the voice of a man who has found his place in the world
me: “Not much,” he coos, a chorus of angels speaking with him,
me: /”What’s up with you?”/