Okay, So Beta!Steve Weirdly Enough Starts Lactating After The Serum, But The Serum Turns Him Into An

After the 'finger fellatio' accident, the Avengers decide to add yet another list to the whole Code Red/Blue files (for everyone's sanity bc, lbr: seeing Steve Rogers' lips wrapped around something elongated is a distraction for EVERYONE -even tho Tony'll deny that was the reason he dropped one of his tools on his foot); so now Steve can't put in his mouth for a prolonged amount of time: lollipops (But I like those), pens, and forks ("how am I supposed to eat?" "fast, Rogers!!")

Bucky lounges on a chair, legs splayed suggestively. “Don’t worry, Rogers,” he says, leering at him. “I got somethin’ you can put in your mouth.”

“Oh, well, thank God for that,” Steve says sarcastically but his cheeks are turning pink which means he actually is relieved. Or maybe ‘cause it wants.

They stare at each other heatedly for the rest of the meeting and don’t hear a goddamn thing anyone has to say, so the two of them are surprised when they wake up the next morning to a new e-mail in their inboxes, entitled, “The New Rules & Regulations of Avengers Tower.”

“This is bullshit,” Steve says sleepily. He hasn’t even mustered the energy to pull away from where he’s laid across Bucky’s chest yet.

Bucky pets him, making an unconcerned sound as he stretches as best he can with a super-soldier weighing him down. “Wouldn’t be the first time we broke the rules.”

Steve snorts. “Which one do you want to have a go at first?”

Hello. Your Koyonagi/Ichigo story is really amazing. Thank you for writing such wonderful stories. I really adore your characters. Although I wonder how Koyonagi would react about Ichigo's past when Ichigo finally told him about it. And will Koyonagi be jealous of Ichigo to anybody with whom Ichigo was close in his time, for example Kisuke? It would be interesting to see.

Thank you! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed reading my fics =D I would imagine Koyonagi’s definitely the possessive type. He’d probably take the whole time travel thing more or less in stride pretty quickly, but maybe sometimes, Ichigo points people out to him, talks about them fondly, wistfully, knowing he’ll never get them back. 

Thank you! I’m glad you’ve enjoyed reading my fics =D I would imagine Koyonagi’s definitely the possessive type. He’d probably take the whole time travel thing more or less in stride pretty quickly, but maybe sometimes, Ichigo points people out to him, talks about them fondly, wistfully, knowing he’ll never get them back. And Koyonagi doesn’t mind, he likes that Ichigo trusts him enough to speak of his past and his secrets. But then one day Ichigo says something in passing when they bump into some of the captains at a bar, maybe Kisuke is pretending to be way more drunk than he actually is in a corner and Ichigo takes one look at him and rolls his eyes and tells Koyonagi, “He’s not even a little bit drunk. I thought I was taking advantage of him when he dragged me to bed after celebrating one of the battles we won, but apparently he just uses that as a front to gather blackmail.” He snorts. “Also he has a surprising amount of poetry memorized. He recited like three of them to me just to prove I could sleep with him guilt-free.”

And okay, Koyonagi already knew Ichigo wasn’t a virgin, but also he’s self-aware enough that he can look at Urahara Kisuke and acknowledge that there’s more than a few similarities between them. Knowing Ichigo’s slept with him - even if it was a different future Urahara - sinks heat and claws beneath his ribcage, and the next time he bumps into the Twelfth Division captain, he can’t help cataloging all the potential weaknesses he can see while a voice in his head hisses that it would be easy to make the man disappear. Urahara seems to sense his animosity immediately, and his head doesn’t snap around, but he does stiffen, and when he casually turns and meets Koyonagi’s gaze across the courtyard of the Shiba estate, the silly fool facade he usually wears has almost completely dropped off his face, leaving behind flat grey eyes and a killer’s detached mien. It’s like looking into a mirror, and Koyonagi has to reflect with some amusement that Ichigo certainly has interesting tastes in men.

But then Ichigo is there, always so much more perceptive than people think he is or even remember he is, and he takes one look at both of them, rolls his eyes, pats Urahara on the shoulder with something like apology, then saunters right over to Koyonagi, and in the most public display of mine that Koyonagi has ever been on the receiving end of, Ichigo crowds him up against the tree behind him and pulls him into an aggressively filthy and wildly inappropriate kiss. By the time he pulls back, Koyonagi is half-hard and has completely forgotten Urahara as he blinks rapidly at a smirking Ichigo. Kaien is wailing something about eyes and bleach in the background but all Koyonagi pays attention to is Ichigo leaning into him and grumbling, “I’m with you, you idiot. As if anyone before can compare.”

After that, Koyonagi still gets jealous sometimes, but as reminders go, Ichigo’s are very effective.

Robin!Jason, who constantly references different books at random times by quoting them and joking about characters, except Bruce doesn't have much time to read everything that Jason goes through. Of course, he understands some nods towards classics, but Jason is an avid reader, so it is hard to keep up with him sometimes. Jason tries to drag him to watch some movie adaptations, but he falls asleep in the very beginning of it.

And then Jason dies.

Bruce goes through all his library obsessively to the point he remembers the page of every little bookmark Jason left, and he knows his little notes on the margins by the heart. He watches movie adaptations, too, even though Jason only ever watched it to hate on them. He finds new books, books he thinks Jason would like if he was alive, and reads them, imagining what kind of analysis would Jason finalise by the end of it; his opinion not always matches with Jason's, but that doesn't matter. Bruce just likes to imagine.

Years pass, and Jason returns to Gotham. Not as a boy Bruce missed so much. Or, at least, he thinks so.

But then Jason does some bitter, irritated reference, comparing them to characters of one of the books he had on his shelf, and Bruce catches himself thinking... well, they still think similarly, but the conclusion they drew had always differed from each other. It is a different situation, of course, but... but maybe he could try to make this work.

Because, if anything, Bruce is tired of imagining. Especially, not when he finally has a chance to get everything back.

On the next day after their fight, someone sends Jason a copy of a new book from his favourite author - the one that he still hadn't read - his old set of colourful bookmarks, and a little note.

Let me know what you think.

Bruce gets the book back in a week, full of frantic notes, a bunch of bookmarks, and a short note explaining what each colour means (a mystery he didn't resolve years ago, after he passed away).

And, oh, God. He completely forgot how fast Jason read sometimes.

Short snippet from the Bleach I Knew You AU.

But before I begin. *Insert deep sigh here.*

Secretlypansexualmango, if you see this, it was supposed to be a response to your ask. Unfortunately, it took a hard left-turn and ended up in. Uraichi shipping territory? Look, IDK, I'm asexual, I don't get it either. Anyway, since I don't know your shipping preferences and don't want to accidentally respond to your ask with something that squiks you, I will be officially responding to your ask in another post that is less likely to be unexpectedly unpalatable. Thank you for your patience, and, uh, I hope this doesn't turn you off the au! (*laughs nervously*)

Without further ado, the snippet:

Breaking into the Shiba family grounds is easy. By sheer comparison, breaking into Shiba Ichigo’s room specifically is almost a challenge, but it’s not anything that Kisuke hasn’t planned for.

The strange, modified kido, and the odd wards Ichigo has placed, are simple to bypass with a bit of fancy footwork and precisely-timed counter-kido. It’s practically child’s play to get past them, now that he's roughly figured out how they work and where they all are.

His job is made even easier by the fact that, for some reason, Kisuke’s spiritual pressure doesn’t wake Ichigo up. Quite the opposite, in fact. He seems to sleep deeper when Kisuke is nearby and has let Benihime out a little.

He has theories about that.

He’s tired of them being theories.

He’s here to get evidence.

Kisuke bypasses the final seal and slides Ichigo’s window open, slipping into his room. He lets his spiritual pressure permeate the air a little thicker than he would in normal company, and as expected, Ichigo’s spiritual pressure slows down as he falls further into slumber.

… And Kisuke is supposed to believe that the first time they met was two months ago? When this is Ichigo’s reaction to his presence? When Ichigo is one of the most paranoid people Kisuke, an ex-onmi agent, has ever encountered?

Kisuke is a genius. He doesn’t need to be in order to see the flaw in that logic.

Kisuke steps further into the room, gliding softly over the old wood floorboards. He pauses in the middle, taking a moment to debate where to start.

Well. Why not with the simplest?

He’s caught it a few times, the barest trace of his own power lingering around Ichigo. A fascinating phenomenon, when he can’t recall a single time he’s drawn shikai around him, let alone used enough power to leave a long-lasting trace.

He draws closer to Ichigo’s bed, until he could reach out and touch him if he wished.

Ichigo breathes deeply, evenly, no sign of waking up. At some point, his covers ended up half kicked-off. Possibly from the heat, probably from nightmares. Regardless of the reason, Kisuke can’t help but think that he looks strangely fragile this way, surrounded by the evidence of his restlessness.

He puts a hand on the the hilt of his soul-partner. “Awaken, Benihime,” he murmurs.

She stirs within him, gently, in a way that is oh so rare. Like the softest, most gradual of ocean tides, she rises, her fragrance of wet iron washing through the air around them.

And together, channeling her power through his eyes, they see.

Glowing crimson threads that they have no recollection of weaving wrap protectively, lovingly, around Ichigo. A thin but strong filament, sewn through the skin from just below Ichigo’s ear all the way to his opposite shoulder, sutures closed what must have once been a deadly throat wound. Another one, obviously originally meant to keep shut a gash down the length of Ichigo’s forearm, keeps it companion.

And beyond the battlefield sutures there are more threads. Hundreds of intangible and deceptively thin and absolutely unbreakable strands of Benihime’s power wrap around Ichigo, crisscrossing over themselves — around his throat and across his face and down his torso and up his arms, visible wherever his bare flesh is exposed — seemingly serving no purpose.

Benihime’s power surges at the sight, a hot delight running through her as she sees Ichigo so thoroughly caught in her webs. Kisuke’s fingers suddenly, urgently ache with the urge to touch, to tighten, to add more.

Soul King.

No purpose other than, it seems, to satiate their own possessiveness.

Kisuke exhales a shaking breath. Closes his eyes for a brief moment. Gets the heat in his blood under control.

No purpose other than to alert themselves, perhaps? Did they know that one day they wouldn't recognize Ichigo anymore, and left this as a clue?

(And oh, what a clue. What a clue it is.)

He lets Benihime’s power fade, taking his hand away from her hilt. He’s self-aware enough to know when he needs to stop tempting himself, and he’s gotten the evidence he came for — far better proof than he could have ever anticipated.

He takes a step back, and the motion is the most unnatural thing he’s done in a long, long time.

He has questions. He has a few theories, too. Amnesia, caused by a very specific type of parasitic hollow. Dimension travel. Time travel. He doesn’t have enough information yet to figure out which is most likely, but he has finally confirmed beyond doubt that Ichigo is his, has been his, and something tried to steal that from him.

Fury flares within him, burning through his veins, and he can’t do this right here.

He takes another step back, this one just as unnatural as the last.

He can’t ask, yet. He can’t get closer, can’t wake Ichigo up with a soft hand on his cheek, can’t tell him that he’s there now, can’t promise him to take care of it all if he would just let him in again.

No.

Shiba Ichigo is in the middle of a chess game — a dangerous one, a complicated one — and Kisuke can’t see the whole board yet. Tipping his own hand might trigger a whole plethora of traps, including another round of amnesia, and he refuses to risk the knowledge he’s regained.

He will have to be careful. He will have to move cautiously.

He casts one last look at Ichigo, lets his eyes trace over that delicate throat that he now knows almost bled out. That delicate throat that had to be held together with Benihime’s webs. That delicate throat that he doesn’t remember stitching back together, despite the fact that he used his bankai to do it.

He was made to unknow a person he loves. He was made to unknow a war. He was made to unknow the fact that danger lurks still in the shadows of Soul Society.

He will know the end of this game. And Ichigo will learn that there is no universe in which Kisuke does not protect what’s his.

Kisuke turns. Takes another unnatural step away from his favorite, infuriating puzzle. And then he wrenches himself out of the room, out into the night, closing the window behind him and leaving as unnoticed as he had come.

went crazy and made this

enjoy the fruits of my madness

important !! please read and reblog !!

it’s unfair of us to have platforms and not use it to speak up for palestinians. i have resources provided below for how you can educate yourself on the ethnic cleansing that is happening in israel right now and how you can help.

educate yourself

thread on what is occurring in sheikh jarrah, another thread

thread of infographics about misconceptions regarding israel and palestine

tw bombing video of al aqsa mosque being bombed

tw violence, tw bombing, tw shooting video of palestinians in al aqsa mosque

tweet explaining importance of al aqsa

a website where you can learn more about palestine

a video breaking down the history of the israeli oppressing palestinians

video of palestinian explaining the importance of spreading awareness

tw violence video of 16 yo palestinian boy being forcefully evicted from his home by israeli solders

tiktok of palestinian speaking about what is going on in her country. please see the links in her bio for more information— tiktok will not let me copy and paste her linktree

tiktok of palestinian speaking on situation in gaza

instagram page for jewish voices for peace, an organization working for liberation and justice for palestine

free ways to help if you cannot donate

do NOT sign petitions !! they are not accounted for in the middle east and do nothing.

simply go to this website and click

watch this video to donate, it’s 3 hours long but just playing it in the background can help

watch this video to donate, it’s 1 hour long but just playing it in the background can help

if you are from the U.K., follow these instructions to call local MPs into action

if you are from the U.S., text RESIST to 50409 to urge congress to help palestine

thread of dua’as muslims can make to pray for palestinians

boycott israeli products

donate— it is better to donate directly to people rather than organizations, but i do have a few organizations listed.

do NOT donate to change.org

help children and hospitals affected by gaza bombing

help hungry children in palestine

donate to palestine child relief fund, known to be reputable

donate to united palestinian appeal, a direct charity

donate directly to journalist injured in gaza

ramadan zakat fund for palestinians in gaza

i’ll add more links as i continue to find reliable sources and proper donations. please dm me other resources and i can add them to this list. if anything here is not trustworthy, please let me know immediately and i will take it down. free palestine until it’s backwards, pray for palestinians who do not know whether they will be safe in their own country.

last but not least, if you are a zionist, unfollow me immediately. i don’t need you on my tumblr. and do not use what is happening in palestine right now to be anti-semitic.

i got inspired by THIS amazing post 🤠 The room was dim. The only source of light was the soft glow from the streetlights outside, filtering through the moth-eaten curtains. Bruce's hands were gripping Jason's hips, the cheap bed creaking under their shared weight and movements.

Earlier that night, Bruce had been out on patrol, moving across the rooftop with practiced ease. He had spotted Jason below, next to a group of drug dealers bleeding out in the alley.

Bruce had reacted immediately, dropping down without a sound, landing behind him. He couldn't remember the words they had exchanged with each other. It always went the same anyway, stuck in an infinite loop, like a curse.

Jason had thrown the first punch, and soon they had been locked in a dance of violence and bruises.

But the second Jason had ripped his helmet off, revealing his flushed face, unruly hair and dark eyes, Bruce lost the fight.

The rest of the night was a blur after that. They had stumbled into the first hotel they could find, somewhere where no one asked questions. The receptionist had barely glanced up from her phone when they asked for a room, and even if she had, she would be under the impression that Batman was investigating a crime.

And now, here they were. It always ended the same these days. For each time Bruce interacted with Jason, his willpower crumbled more and more.

Jason's Red Hood gear was carelessly scattered across the wooden floor, along with pieces of the Batsuit.

Then Jason leaned in, his lips brushing against Bruce's ear. "Come on, dad..." Bruce froze. His thrusts slowed, until they stopped completely, his body going rigid. The word hung in the air between them, and for a moment, he forgot how to function.

Jason always tested him, pushed his limits, but this—this was different. Bruce could feel his smirk against his skin as Jason pressed his mouth to his neck. "What's wrong, dad?" he hummed against his skin, feigning innocence.

Bruce's breath caught in his throat. He felt a flash of heat roll through his body, his arousal stirring inside Jason. The word ricocheted inside his head, over and over. He shouldn't like it. It was wrong. This was wrong. But his body didn't listen to him.

Jason shifted slightly, leaning back against the pillow, looking up at Bruce with sparkling eyes in the dim light.

He let out a low chuckle, the sound sending a vibrating through Bruce. "You like it." His tone sounded triumphant, taunting, like he took great pleasure in finding out how fucked up Bruce was.

Bruce swallowed hard, trying to regain some sense of control, but every rational thought was drowned out by the rush of blood in his ears, the haze in his mind.

He wanted to deny it, but all he could think of was how badly he wanted Jason to say it again. But to his disappointment, Jason remained quiet now, his legs wrapping around Bruce's waist and tightening around him to try and create some friction, silently telling him to move again.

So Bruce did, picking up the pace again, each movement harder than the last. The sound of Jason's teasing voice still on repeat in his mind.

Jason's breath hitched, his hands grabbing Bruce's arms, digging into his skin. His name was spilled from Jason's lips as he moaned softly, but that's not what Bruce wanted to hear, and he was too ashamed to admit it out loud.

Another moan escaped Jason's lips, and it should have been enough. It should have been.

But it wasn't.

Jason had planted a seed and Bruce couldn't think about anything else.

Jason's head tipped further back against the pillow, exposing the sharp line of his sensitive throat. "Bruce—" He moaned again, his voice breaking as his legs pulled Bruce closer, impossibly deeper. He was doing it on purpose, deliberately withholding the word. Jason could—much to Bruce's dismay—read him like an open book. This was just like another game between them. Jason would push, tease, and taunt, to see how far he could go before Bruce broke. And Bruce, no matter how hard he tried to resist, would always end up playing along, drawn deeper each time, like a moth to a flame.

Jason's hands slid from Bruce's arms to his neck, pulling him down until their lips nearly touched. "Say it," he murmured. "Say you like it."

The words clawed in his throat, refusing to leave him. The pace slowed again, almost coming to a stop.

Jason kissed him. Bruce's blood from his split lip mingled between them, a gift from Jason during their earlier fight.

"I... I like it," Bruce confessed when they broke apart.

Even in the darkness of the room, Bruce could see Jason's smirk, the cocky satisfaction radiating from him. "You like what?"

He was going to make him say it.

"You know what," Bruce muttered, his voice strained. He didn't want to play this game, not when his shame was threatening to consume him.

Jason's fingers tightened around the back of his neck. "Do I?" he teased.

Bruce's heart pounded. The need for Jason to say it was greater than all the other shameful feelings. "I like it when you call me dad," he finally admitted. Jason's smirk widened into a wicked grin, his eyes gleaming with delight. "That wasn't so hard, was it?" His voice then dropped even lower. "Are you going to keep fucking me, dad?" Bruce's entire body tensed, a surge of arousal pulsated through him. Jason's hands trailed down Bruce's back as he whispered the word again, "Dad." The sound of Bruce's voice—that word—was all it took. Bruce's movements grew desperate, almost erratic, each thrust deeper into Jason, as his soft moans dragged him closer to the edge. "That's it," Jason groaned. "Just like that, dad."

Bruce couldn't hold back any longer. With one last thrust, he reached his climax with an unexpected intensity, his vision going white and blurry from the sensation.

Jason followed shortly after. His body tightened around Bruce as he choked on the word that had destroyed Bruce completely. "Dad."

For a short minute they were both still, breathing heavily. Bruce finally pulled out, before collapsing onto the mattress beside Jason.

Jason laughed, breathless, his white strands clinging to his forehead. "You're sick."

And Bruce silently agreed with him.

For the 5+ headcanons post, I was interested in seeing if you had anything for UraIchi. I didn't have a specific au in mind although I really enjoyed "Hope Springs Eternal" and would be interested in any epilogue thoughts, or something Seireitei University perhaps.

Utter crack, thy name is Seireitei University ^_^|||  I’ll give you something from HSE instead lol~

1. They never do get around to having a awkward dancing around each other/pining/dramatic confession moment. They have an apocalypse to reverse and no time for lovesickness, but also Ichigo’s spent too long on his own to realize those are things a lot of people go through, especially at his age. They already spend most of their time together, Ichigo knows more about Kisuke than he does any of the others, and they practically sleep in the same bed, with how close their futons have gotten (because sometimes they stay up at night lobbing new ideas about the Hogyoku back and forth and planning for the past-future or just talking about nothing until they fall asleep). Kisuke’s always been a category of his own in Ichigo’s mind, and if he starts thinking he wouldn’t mind waking up more often with his head pillowed on Kisuke’s thigh while Kisuke scribbles new theories in his notebook, it’s not as if it’s anything that different from what they’ve already been doing anyway. On Kisuke’s part, he probably notices before Ichigo, and he thinks for a hot second that he should probably feel guilty– but a fierce sort of possessiveness overshadows it more and more with every time Ichigo turns to look at him first, with every smile shared over tea at midnight, with every lethally beautiful dance together in the training grounds, and Kisuke can’t bring himself to object in the end. He figures he’ll go at Ichigo’s pace, and that will have to be good enough.

2. The world is very different once they’re back in the past. Aizen is handily taken care of with a bit of custom-made poison and an assassin of Yoruichi’s caliber, staged as an accident and all his research quietly destroyed. The problems come after that. Half of them don’t even remember what it’s like anymore, to live in a world where stepping outside doesn’t mean potential instant death, where they don’t have to hoard food and carry weapons and mark every hiding place and exit in any given vicinity. Even for the adults and Shinigami amongst them, it’s difficult not to flinch under the natural sunlight or go their separate ways and put down roots in buildings no longer half as warded as the warehouse they’ve lived in for the past decade and a half.

Some adjust more quickly. Ichigo does not. He stares at the crowds and unbroken streets and bustling shops like they’re completely foreign. He jumps at music blasting from a loudspeaker and is constantly tamping down the reiatsu that sparks at his fingertips every time a group of people walks by chattering freely. He walks into restaurants like he half-thinks they’re one of Aizen’s illusions. Kisuke… hopes he helps. They go on walks and he shows Ichigo more open, quieter areas like the parks and the riverbank and the hiking trails. He shows him hand-drawn maps of Karakura, points out all the entrances and exits of everything from the mall to the high school to the hospital. They take it slow, and whenever Ichigo starts looking overwhelmed, a couple Kidou spells from Kisuke is enough to redirect the crowds somewhere else.

3. Another perk of travelling back to the past is that it fixes Ichigo’s body. His power levels stay the same, his control and strength and speed all remain, and they even made it so that he keeps his eighteen years instead of being stuffed back into his ten-year-old body (there’s a moment where they have to scramble for paperwork and possibly amnesia-fy an entire town), but for the longest time after they return, Ichigo takes to staring into the bathroom mirror with something as desperate as it is disbelieving. He never does break the habit of wearing clothes that cover up most of his skin, but he also bares himself for Kisuke more easily, and Kisuke loves the way he shudders when they’re in bed and he’s running slow reverent hands over miles of tanned flesh, taking just as much comfort in the smooth warmth of a body unmarred by his mistakes.

4. Isshin is a Problem for all of two minutes when he catches Ichigo pinning Kisuke to a wall in the Shouten, kissing the breath out of him, thoroughly enough that it takes several dazed seconds for Kisuke to pull his brain cells back together when Isshin shrieks something unintelligible from the doorway. Technically, Isshin knows about the Other Future, but he has no memory of it, not like the rest of them do, and they certainly didn’t tell him about Ichigo and Kisuke - Ichigo because he couldn’t be bothered with someone who might as well be a stranger, Kisuke because he’s never been in the business of airing his personal laundry. So Isshin shouts and accuses Kisuke of being a pervert and preying on his innocent son and demanding he keep away from Ichigo from now on, and Kisuke only has time to feel Benihime seethe at the back of his mind before Masaki appears, casually kicks Isshin back out into the courtyard, waves at them with a cheerful reminder to “practice safe sex!”, and then she’s gone, dragging Isshin away with her. The next time they see Isshin, he still glares daggers at Kisuke but he keeps his opinions to himself, especially since every time he opens his mouth, Masaki’s smile would brighten like demonic sunshine, and Isshin would snap his mouth shut again with a wince, face bleaching white as he adopts a mien more suitable for a funeral. Ichigo’s mother is terrifying, and Kisuke prays he never gets on the wrong side of her.

5. Ichigo’s favourite thing about being back in the past is how much more freedom he has. He doesn’t know any other way to put it– it isn’t as if he was locked up in that Other Future, and it’s been years since anything could really pose a danger to him - Aizen aside - so it wasn’t like he hadn’t been able to wander wherever he pleased even back then. But here, where people don’t scuttle around like they’re constantly expecting death, where there’s no bodies littering the ground, and the air doesn’t smell like blood and rot, Ichigo in turn has no reason to constantly keep his guard up, to patrol and scavenge for supplies and be ready for battle at any moment. Sure, it’s a little boring with only a few Hollows to kill every other month, but it also means his family is a lot safer, and he’s free to do things like tangle his fingers with Kisuke’s when they take a peaceful walk in the evening, or go out for dinner and come back late without anyone panicking about something happening to either of them, or just stay in bed all day with Kisuke, knowing the cupboards and fridge are full and they don’t have to get up to tend to the farm or hunt for more essentials or search for another way to end Aizen once and for all. It admittedly takes some getting used to, but this world is definitely preferable to the apocalyptic one, and Ichigo doesn’t plan on wasting a single day of it.

Some of my favourite behind the scenes photos from the making of the prequel trilogy.

BONUS:

im obsessed with the difference between the Wayne family and the Kent family. like i can imagine Clark and Bruce working on some kind of case at the watchtower when Kon storms in angrily talking about how Jon won’t stop whining to play games on his phone and it’s really getting on his nerves and Clark needs to go and tell him off bcs he won’t listen to Kon, and Clark sighs before turning to Bruce with an eye-roll like ‘kids amiright?’ and then they hear a far off scream from Dick on the other end of the watchtower that’s like ‘BRUCE JASON KEEPS DRESSING UP AS NIGHTWING AND KILLING PEOPLE IN BLUDHAVEN AND NOW IM BEING INVESTIGATED FOR FUCKING MURDER AGAIN!’ followed by an evil Jason-like cackle and a crash, and Bruce just grunts and stands up to go investigate with a chuckle, returning Clark’s look like ‘oh don’t i know it haha’ as if the two are in any way comparable and Clark isn’t staring at him like his whole family is insane