Fuck Yeah So Readyyyyy♡♡♡♡♡

AWESOME NEW SINGER, NEW MUSIC & LP'S COMING TO HAMBURG??!! I AM SOBBING HELP

the experience of discovering rarer linkin park songs while going through all the albums & extras is seriously wild

just binge re-watched good omens s2 AND I FORGOT HOW PAINFUL THAT FINALE WAS GODDAMNIT

MY HEART

No 🥺 Veltins-Arena, Gelsenkirchen, 31-07-2024 @iinchicore

WHA-

EXCUSE ME MISS SLAY

*mav peeking around the corner & waving like an excited kindergarden child* hiiiii🥰

After Iceman’s funeral, Slider was contacted by Ice’s attorney to come into his office, as he had some personal property that Ice had left Slider in his will.

Emotional over the loss of his friend, as well as curious about what he might have left him (his dog tags? No, he would have left those for his family. Money? No, Ice wouldn’t leave him money…) Slider arranged to come into the attorney’s office a couple days later to receive his inheritance from Ice.

After he entered the man’s office, and introduced himself, shook his hand, was told “I’m sorry for your loss”, etc. the attorney handed him a plain white envelope.

Confused, Slider turned the envelope over in his hand. It was standard letter-size, sealed, with no odd bulges indicating anything other than paper was inside. And on the front, written in pen, in Iceman’s handwriting, were the words “For Admiral Ron Kerner.”

So Slider opened the envelope, and pulled out a single piece of folded white paper.

He unfolded the paper, and read…

“Dear Slider,

  You get Maverick.

Love,

        Ice”

People outside in the hallway all stopped when they heard a sudden, loud yell:

“…GODDAMNIT…!”

okay this so beautifully written but nO bc i'm sobbing??!! this is gorgeous & SO painful??!! HELP

"I love you"

Iceman smiled, his beautiful pale eyes were full of honesty and adoration. He couldn't be lying. He never did.

Uncertain, Maverick reached out to touch his cheek. He needed to feel, needed to ground himself before it became too overwhelming.

Ice gently took his hand and pressed it to his lips.

"I love you Pete" he whispered into his palm while looking into his eyes "Always did and always will" He then added.

Mav nodded feeling his eyes well up with tears. This couldn't be happening and he knew it. Either way he wanted to hear it. He wanted it to be true.

"Kiss me" the smaller man said. His voice raspy from all the raw emotion he felt for the man before him. "Please" he begged.

Blond man leaned closer with the confidence of an admiral. He was so close Maverick thought he could feel his breath on his face. He wanted to feel it. He needed to feel it.

Iceman kissed him. It ended too soon.

Maverick woke up with tears running down his cheeks. He turned his head to look at the empty half of his bed. Their bed.

Ice was gone.

And yet,

He still could feel the ghost of the kiss. The only thing left of the dream he had.

"I miss you" he whispered into the dark empty room.

He closed his eyes and for a moment he thought he could hear a reply.

"We'll meet again"

omg please that would be amazing

If someone could write a fic about Mobius M. Mobius being a cane user and like,,, idk just some fluffy romantic shit between Loki and he during their 1893 trip I’d be eternally grateful

I’d write it myself usually, but I have no motivation or energy and am severely depressed rn and a new cane user and this would just make my fucking day thank you :,)

just finished the cape may episode (s3 ep19) and i am positively wrecked oh my god

The Avengers Aesthetics

Tony Stark: freshly brewed black coffee. desks filled with miscellaneous papers strewn everywhere. harsh winters. tinkering at 2 am. records of different rock bands. a drawer filled with treasured gifts from loved ones. nibbling on fingernails. the pungent scent of alcohol. ostentatious colors of red and gold. roughed up worker boots. a mind saturated with intuitive thoughts. sarcastic quips and half smirks. tired eyes. aching bones. the feeling of being lost.

Steve Rogers: dewy mornings. bright toothy smiles. freshly baked cherry pies from Brooklyn Cafes. 40′s swing music. baby blue sweaters and light brown khakis. bruised knuckles. burtbees chapstick. a broken compass. old letters from loved ones. polaroids. melancholy. forehead kisses. notebooks and wooden pencils. fingers covered in graphite. the feeling of looking for something that cannot be found.

Natasha Romanoff: red lipstick. bubblegum. wine stains on white napkins. clint’s jackets. stilettos. hail storms. broken ballet shoes. small smirks. framed candids of the team. russian novels. rhubarb ice cream. roses with sharp thorns. goosebumps. black shiny leather. heartache. hair filled with secrets. 80s movies. the feeling of wanting to let go.

Clint Barton: ripped bandages. coffee pots brewed to the tip. cotton tee shirts. the taste of honeydew. crooked smiles. spending time with family. reading comics at night. wanting to stay in bed after waking up. loyalty. calluses. worn out bones. ripped canvases. the feeling of losing security.

Bruce Banner: yellow jumpers. classical music. sad smiles. notepads filled with theoretical discoveries. broken pencils. clean lab coats. isolation. greek mythology. wanting to be a better person. stress relief dogs. chamomile tea. learning new languages. the feeling of losing control.

Thor Odinson: belly laughs. large hands. mead. early morning walks. meeting up with friends. lumberjack boots. catching fireflies at night. braided hair. the colors of the bifrost bridge. norse poems. poptarts. a collection of different items from the nine realms. the feeling of fear when all hope is lost.

Peter Parker: frayed sweaters. bubbly laughter and shy smiles. chipped cassettes. neon city lights. greasy cheese pizza. tangled headphones. glossy eyes. spearmint gum. bed hair. torn sneakers. a notebook filled with favorite movies. earthy scents. the feeling of insecurity.

Wanda Maximoff: broken mosaics. trembling hands. timid smiles. leather gloves. ripped jeans. the scent of freshly cooked paprikash. recorded videos of loved ones. black nail polish. indie music. sci fi books. exotic candles. a bruised heart. empty glass bottles of perfume. the feeling of never being good enough.

Stephen Strange: dry wit. record players. tailored suits. cocky smirks. scarred hands. classic literature books with uneven binding. success and ambition. ballroom dancing. the scent of aftershave. collections of antique items. red and blue drapes. late sunsets. chipped coffee mugs. a broken clock. the feeling of wanting to know more but never knowing enough.

Bucky Barnes: cheeky grins. irish coffee. the solitary feeling of being alone. quiet laughter. harsh breaths and heaving chests. golden retriever puppies. Chopin’s Nocturne Op.9 No.3. local newspapers. suave pick up lines. breakfast foods. corny jokes. the feeling of not belonging anywhere. 

T’challa Udaku: royal blues and golds. the nostalgic feeling of listening to old music. family heirlooms. feeling content after a day of being productive. sunny afternoons and picnics. smiles from loved ones. a stomach filled with butterflies. banter between siblings. the feeling of being burdened with great responsibility.

Scott Lang: childish laughter. grandma scarves. deep and unconditional love. a heart of gold. the scent of homemade cinnamon twists. longing for stability. fitted black shirts. bruised fingers. pastel colors. scattered blueprints. erratic yet intellectual thoughts. the feeling of not wanting to be another disappointment.