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WHHGGGGGAGGHHHJHH they love each other so much it makes me ILL

closes twitter.

inhales.

WHAT THE FRICK.

[ 𝐈𝐍𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐄𝐒𝐓 ] — 𝐁𝐀𝐉𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐈𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐄

college au! baji for his birthday even though i’m kind of late lol

baji swears the world is out to get him. he felt like he fought for his life passing literature in middle and high school, and now he has to battle for it all over again in LIT 1301 class—in a damned overpopulated university campus with too many idiots that don’t know how to park properly.

just yesterday, he watched someone scratch another vehicle right before his eyes, simply driving off as if nothing happened. he wonders how he’s meant to survive three more years here, and he’s not even halfway to finishing this first one. surely his mother will understand if he drops out, he thinks, surely she can’t cry if he never failed—he’ll just simply drop out before he can.

and then he meets you, the quiet and studious classmate he shares lit with, sitting in the corner of the library typing away on your laptop. he’s almost positive you’re working on that essay that’s due in two weeks, and if he wasn’t so salty at your work ethic, he’d be slightly impressed.

“hey,” he snaps at you, making you glance up. a few people turn to look at him, harsh glares being thrown your ways at his lack of whispering skills. “you’re in lit with that old raisin from eleven to twelve thirty pm right?”

you blink up at him.

“you mean professor d—”

“yeah, yeah, the old man that’s about to expire. him,” he grunts. another glare gets thrown in your direction.

“i—okay whatever, yeah. i am. and please whisper. this is a library in case you didn’t realize,” you glare. for a second, baji is taken aback. he was sure you were the quiet innocent type, but it seems you’re a bit bolder than he’d initially given you credit for.

he shoves aside your books and pens across the table and moves your backpack from the chair beside you to the floor, sitting himself on it and turning your laptop to his view.

“so, what’s your essay topic—”

“what are you doing?” you hiss, smacking his hand and grabbing your laptop back. he catches a glimpse of the page count, and this time, he really is much too impressed to be salty at your progress. he stares down at the hand you smacked, then back up at you, then back down to his hand again.

you truly are a bold one.

“did you just smack my hand?” he growls.

“you just grabbed my laptop,” you snarl back. “you’re lucky i didn’t smack your face, but i’d rather not get kicked out. this is my favorite spot on campus.”

go figure, he thinks to himself, fighting the urge to roll his eyes. you really seem to live up to his assumptions. still, something about you peaks baji’s interests. you have no problems dishing out the same attitude back, and on any other occasion, he’d be pissed—but somehow, you excite him just a little.

rolling his eyes, he mumbles, “shocker. who would’ve seen that one coming?”

your eye twitches at the sarcasm.

“who even are you? and why are you bugging me?” he almost wants to offer a snarky response, but he holds his tongue—you probably wouldn’t be willing to help after that. swallowing his pride, baji glances at your paper for a moment before reluctantly meeting your eyes. he bites back a scowl at your expression.

“baji keisuke. from lit class with the raisin. help me on my paper,” he says simply. you blink for a moment, processing his words before scowling at them.

“why would i do that? you didn’t even say please,” you snarl. clenching his fists, he counts to three in his head.

“please?” he smiles sarcastically, and you know his words are everything but sincere.

but for some odd reason, as much as he annoys you, you can’t stop yourself from blurting, “how far along are you?” he shrugs.

“dunno. haven’t started,” he responds cooly, planting his feet on the table. the librarian shoots him a warning glance, and you watch in utter fascination as he rolls his eyes at her before putting them back down.

you wonder how someone can be so shameless.

“how am i supposed to help you if you haven’t even star—”

“i don’t know where to start,” he grumbles. “literature isn’t really my strongest class.”

“i’m starting to think no class is,” you raise a brow. this time he chuckles, turning to face you—and you almost want to hear the sound of his laugh again.

“you’d be right,” he nods, shooting you a grin. a small part of you grows soft at the sight, and for some reason unbeknownst to you, your heart rate increases slightly. “i’ll meet you here tomorrow at the same time and we’ll get started. i’m just aiming to pass,” he assures. “so no shakespeare level essays neede—hey, is that a vet textbook?”

looking to where he points, you look down at the anatomy textbook in your pile of things he’s shoved before nodding.

“yeah, i want to be a vet,” you mumble, “why?” and baji’s never been interested in someone like this before—not like he suddenly is with you. and he only comes to class because attendance is twenty percent of his grade—and knowing him, he needs every percent he can get—but he’s starting to think maybe he’ll actually have something to look forward to next class.

it’ll also be an added plus that he gets to see the look of irritation on your face when he plops his things down directly beside you too.

he turns back to face you again, flashing you a toothy grin.

“never mind. change of location, we’ll meet at a cafe. going to the library for the first date is kind of lame,” he shrugs. grabbing your pen and your hand, he ignores the light gasp you let out as he starts scribbling on your palm, writing down his number in messy handwriting. “text me so i can send you details. don’t be late okay?”

and before you can protest, he stands up and leaves, hands in his pockets as he strolls out of the library. you watch his retreating figure in bewilderment. but as you glance down at the number on your palm, noticing the small baji he wrote in parentheses next to the digits, you can’t deny the small bit of excitement that pools in your heart.

Look as a steddie I think I’m in the minority when I say I’m not overly fussy about their characterisation & I think it’s pretty fun, actually, how people bend & mould them to fit different dynamics (but I get that it’s not for everyone) HOWEVER I will nope out of a fic/hc So fast if it doesn’t take care with the Steve & Robin dynamic like they are Soulmates! Besties! Two sides of the same weird coin and I hate when people write Robin as mean/distant/uncaring to create a gap for Eddie!!

Steve has two hands, okay? And Robin is holding both of them while he kisses Eddie

family heirlooms

There are ways to tell them apart even if you can’t sense the intuitive difference between Archer and Assassin, here in Chaldea.

Both of the Servants calling themselves Emiya are tall dark ashen-haired men with cold and empty eyes, it’s true. It’s easy to mix them up that way. They both hold themselves aloof from others often. Both can be said, if you’re uncharitable, to brood in their spare time.

But the Archer who uses that name, his steel-colored eyes rarely stay empty for long. Like the bright red of his cloak and mantle, they become vivid more easily than you’d think at first. As rare as it is to catch even a trace of a sincere smile on his face, there’s still a fierce, bitter life to this man who’s died so many times before. He’s stubborn like that.

This new Assassin, he’s different. Nothing appears to matter to him anymore. Even the tattered dark cloak he wears seems tired as it clings to him. You could try to meet his eyes for an hour or more, and you wouldn’t see a sign of life in them.

He smiles, now and then, so wearily it kind of hurts to look at. His face looks like it belongs to a young child resigned to starvation.

Those rare moments when that Archer grins, it’s so much more animated than that. He knows how to work a sneer, even if it’s likely to collapse into an awkward fluster the next moment.

You see, they’re nothing alike. Archer’s so on fire he burns himself; Assassin’s just ashes.

(But after a battle, when no human from Chaldea is looking, Archer reaches for Assassin’s hand without touching it, searches his face for the kindness he once knew, so long ago.)

why are you even talking to him… you know he’s doomed by the narrative right

the freak system 

Am not that down bad guys ☹️ am just a lovesick girl.

@sea-lanterns @sinsmockingbird @vrachis all mean.

Ranchers is fun because they are NOT especially close, they clicked really quick and haven't gotten to spend much time together since, so they are always in a perpetual state of learning more about each other and reacting to it delightedly. It's why they slip into the "perpetual honeymoon couple" schtick so easily. Jimmy often turns to Tango's friend for more information while Tango seems happy to learn as it comes up. Their development is all out of order from having to rely on one another, so they fully unquestioningly trust someone they don't know all that much about in he grand scheme of things, but they know it's well placed.

© FIST BUMP | Do not edit.

bad thought™

Muriel!Reversed

Finally the boy has someone he cares about

Somebody who loves him

And

,,,,,,,,

The myrrh

Doesn’t work

anymore

They forget him

They forget him

They forget him

Oh so I'm not the only one that's like "fuck it, we ball" when you should definitely have a strategy or something. Or, like. Update your weapons.

Because I didn't beat Horizon and Horizon Forbidden West without levelling my bow. Like, never. Not even once. And they're not difficult games, right? Not as difficult as Soulslike and such at least, imo. But boy if doing 15hp damage at a boss with 12k hp isn't at least challenging lol

Just a few more hours

“You’ve come to face death, lamb” (ch 1)

guess who’s reading @bamsara’s “The Rehabilitation of Death” fic

i couldn’t decide which pose to draw… so i did both

the boys take on their hardest mission yet—fiber arts

Um excuse me?!

....

No one:

Fox: Torrent’s lines sound like Danny Devito in my head.

Me: ……………..