ivymess
Recent bookmarks
-
Tags
Summary
Where Sharpness and Judelow open an account on Twitter to mess with their friends and "expose" each of them, and slowly realize a few things about each other.
This is a picture fic (づ ᴗ _ᴗ)づ basically a few screenshots of tweets ^^;
Series
- Part 3 of Art's Strength SMP works
- Language:
- English
- Words:
- 6,236
- Chapters:
- 17/17
- Comments:
- 1,039
- Kudos:
- 1,781
- Bookmarks:
- 183
- Hits:
- 25,455
Bookmarked by ivymess
23 Mar 2026
Bookmarker's Notes
FUNNY AS HELLLLL i don’t even go here but this is chefs kiss *mwah*
-
All the Synonyms of Anger by skatefast_eatgrass
Fandoms: Heroes of Olympus - Fandom, percy jackson - Fandom, Trials of Apollo - Fandom
07 May 2018
Tags
Summary
He’s not angry;
He’s furious.
Because Jason Grace had so much left to see, to do.
And he’ll never get to see or do ANY of it.Bookmarked by ivymess
06 Sep 2025
Bookmarker's Notes
this exactly explains how I would feel if someone close to me ever died
-
Tags
Summary
Killua stares and stares and stares at the beating space of skin at Gon’s throat. Beneath that skin is a fresh stream of blood, ever flowing, full of life. Killua has torn throats wide open with his bare hands but this is the first one he’s ever wanted to kiss. [Two boys talking in the dark as they fall asleep, entwined. Killugon, cuddlefluff. Set during episode 37.]
-
Tags
Summary
fic writer iwaizumi who deletes his fic on ao3 somehow manages to see oikawa on his twitter tl cry about the loss of his favorite fic every day
-
(Gay) Panic! at the Football Pitch by Anonymous
Fandoms: Blue Lock (Manga), Blue Lock (Anime)
20 Jun 2025
Tags
Summary
Isagi Yoichi has an intimate confrontation with the question of, "Is this gay or European?" feat. Alexis Ness.
“Your thighs,” Alexis says, like he’s discussing equipment specs. “Explosive. Tense. Good distribution of mass.”
Yoichi blurts, “I support you, by the way.”
Alexis blinks. “…What?”
“I mean– if this is your way of, you know. Telling me something. About yourself. I’m cool with it.”
A pause.
Alexis squints, unreadable. Then something slow and dangerous starts creeping into his expression. He coughs.
“I’m talking about football form,” he says, voice cool and dry like ice over a blade. “You absolute moron .”