#leaf-fuguri

A slow inhale. 

Then he picks her up – no small feat in itself when this girl is taller than most others by leagues. Her feet drag across the ground as he carts her along, held away from him as though he were holding an over stuffed bag full of garbage. Instead of dropping her into a trash can where she would rightfully belong, he dumps her into the time out corner.

spider-man: into the spider-verse | accepting

@leaf-fuguri

One foot stopped at the window’s stool. The aforementioned shadow adopted a similar,  immovable stance. The quimera let out a low warning-growl to the voice from the other side of the door; while his trainer remained half-way to her escape and retained only by her own hesitation. Clearly, Annie hadn’t expected any visits– Especially not from the Kantonian Champion.

The little space that occupied her apartment had been thoroughly cleaned and all that was indispensable had been tucked into the backpack the young woman carried on her back. Had Leaf or anyone else entered the room, it would have been obvious to them that Annie wasn’t planning on staying much longer. 

Given her current position as she climbed out from the back window, her getaway wasn’t something she planned to publicly announce either. 

Would she happened to give on temptation and open the door to receive Leaf in… Would the champion dissuade her from leaving? Would she keep her from doing so, alerting those in charge of watching over her of her failed attempt? From Annie’s perspective, that wasn’t anything like what Leaf would do. However, she didn’t trust herself to be able to leave if she opened that door and greeted her friend in, in her usual carefree and easy-going way. 

Things couldn’t stay the same way. There was no going back. For now.

Annie heaved a silent sigh and signaled her pokémon to step back from the door. Aurel complied, soon after returning willingly into his pokéball on his trainer’s hand. With no more shadows to be waiting for Leaf, she climbed out from the window and away from her home. 

he’s a dummy who’d say things like “i’d face god and walk backwards to hell” and then a minute later screech at the sight of cockroach 

main color scheme for him is anything pastel, particularly the bubblegum pastel palette, that’s his fav. he thinks he’s cool when in fact he’s so uncool ajkgdjsdlal originally he’s my acnl mayor, has a huge huge crush on wolfgang the cranky wolf 

“Aren’t all men?”

Cyrus offers a snort as he leans back in his chair, crossed arms closing off his body from the world around him. All mortals feared death. “I fear death, yes, but only because I do not know what follows. Will I be bound to this wretched place? Will I move to something better? Worse? I should like to think that if I perish, I will merely not exist. That freedom is almost as intoxicating as living forever.”

“I am afraid to die yet be trapped here. I am afraid to die and be forgotten in the passage of time. I am afraid to have existed for nothing, to never realize my true purpose. But more so, I am afraid to live here forever, Leaf.”

No greater fear existed than to reign immortal in an imperfect universe! Never escaping, never leaving, only living with the knowledge that eternity lay at your feet.

continued from X

The chilled air within the rundown apartment caused smoke to billow up from Proton’s breath. Darkness enveloped the Executive, though some parts of him could be seen due to a dim, almost shortcircuiting light illuminating his now bloodstained uniform. He studied the girl before him: Her posture, her hand holding an item that was obscured from his view, the way her brown eyes moved slightly as she seemed to be thinking of her escape options. He brought up his soaked knife, carefully wiping it down with a cloth he carries in his back pocket, not wanting the blood to dry on the blade and causing the knife to be a pain to clean afterwards. The man had a relaxed posture, though his eyes never left his current obstacle, completely ignoring the dead body inbetween the two. A malicious smile spread across his face as Leaf spoke.

❝ You’re a smart girl, aren’t you? ❞ Giovanni didn’t often speak of Proton, and he didn’t expect him to, of course. He works in the shadows, ‘taking care’ of whoever the Boss told him to target. The Executive didn’t need recognition, as he was supposed to be under the radar.

His smile grew wider, showing teeth as Leaf continued speaking. ❝ Ah, it seems I was mistaken. You aren’t smart. ❞ The man chuckled darkly, but his eyes drifted down to what the girl was hiding behind her thigh cautiously. ❝ You see, I can’t allow any witnesses on this job. Who’s to say you won’t rat me out to the cops? ❞ He shook his head, clicking his tongue thrice and turning his knife in his hand.

“And that ain’t even the half of it just yet. All the decapitated chicken heads aside. Behold!” Gold’s voice raised with that rebellious, chaotic driven octave that causes his blood to burn bright. A day spend making discoveries that could utterly drive people insane..! Wasn’t there no greater joy upon this planet sailed by people and Pokemon alike?

Raising up the suction hose, the terrorized, lifeless heads of those rubber chickens were all stacked and squeezed together, taped to their fate as if forming some scepter of cursed power. A moment of time used to ponder, just how should he start this off? Should it be the highest setting? Or the gradual rise approach? Letting each metaphorical floor of chicken hell speak for itself? While the switch to the cleaner was a moment away (just need to bend down and flick the thing), his mind was made up in that second.

He’d hand over that hose to Leaf, and utterly serious expression settled upon his face.

some ancient ass meme || not accepting

❝ PRIDE FOR ONE. And the satisfaction of proving everyone wrong. Don’t let ever let anyone tell you that there’s anything wrong with being slightly petty. ❞ 

Everything she’s been through, everything she’s survived, has been to spite those who’d drag her down. The people who would judge her, who would gasp and titter about the life lessons that she’s teaching the children are the ones who’ve never lived through hell. They don’t know what hurt is like. Barely any of them do, especially the students. 

Try as Emma might, despite all the blood she might spill and the bruises and broken bones she might endure, there is no shielding the children from the harsh realities of a world where there are monster all too willing to set them ablaze for one grotesque reason or another. No matter how often the others at the Institute might question her methods, she does this to prepare her students for a world that hates them and will always hate them. 

Send a 🥖 to throw a baguette at my muse.

@asmoljerk

@fatedstories said:🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖

@magicmagikarp said:🥖 - sorry not sorry 

@aquabosschu said:🥖🥖🥖🥖🥖

@leaf-fuguri said:🥖

  @melemeleguardian said:*Throw an entire Bánh mì sandwich at Cyrus*