#*banging pots and pans together* WELCOME TO HELL WELCOME TO HELL

[glassrowboat]

Snippet Smonday

Expect I'm doing it today because I was celebrating my mom's birthday yesterday

Tagged by @runawaymun thank you, baby

This was even more confusing than when he first had to sit down in rows of old wooden pews and listen to a man with a receding hairline talk about the price all sinners must pay one day. If you don't pray every day to show God your devotion? Hell. Sex before marriage? Eternal damnation…. No, actually, the preaching was worse. Wiping his inexplicably sweaty palms on his borrowed pants, Diluc awkwardly interrupted your conversation. “I can't imagine you two are used to company.” You said a small questioning “oh” before realization seemed to set in. “Oh, right, you can only understand me. Sorry, when you live so far out of reach of everyone else, it's either talk to this one or make dinner aga-” You stopped short, eyes going wide before exclaiming "wait, dinner!” Immediately you were running off, your skirts trailing after you as you tried to dodge around everything in your way to the kitchen. Pots and pans started banging together after you disappeared from his sight, and for a moment, Diluc looked down at Wriothesley like he was waiting for an explanation. Of course, he didn't receive one. “She does that more often than not, doesn't she?” The hellhound barked in response. With another clatter of what he could only hope was nothing serious, you came back into the room with three plates full of food. A stack of toast, bacon, and two eggs you had somehow managed to burn to the point the outside edges were bubbling up and tinted black was placed before him with a heavy thud. A piece of bacon seemed to flake off onto the table, but he said nothing about it. Below the porcelain, now with a bit of food laying on it, hid away a single stained envelope with the name Scarlett written on the back. It had signs of aging after going unsent for years, but for now, it was being used as a placemat for Diluc’s meal you were currently urging him to chow down on. “A good meal is important for a healing body, so eat up.” You declared, giving the third plate to Wriothesley on the floor. Having picked up the fork you had already placed on the plate, Diluc used the prongs to poke the egg for a moment as a smile was hidden away by the messy strands of his still damp hair. “A home cooked meal.” Diluc whispered. “What was that?” “Nothing. Just- Thank you.” You flashed him a smile, little wrinkles forming in the corners of your eyes as you said “You're welcome, hunter.” Diluc's fork met the eggs first, stabbing through the slightly charred end to avoid admitting to himself how he wished you would have addressed him by his name again.

Tagging @fawnforgold @ellalalala @sunderingstars

[ink-flavored]

brain: write this thing write this thing write this thing write this thing write this thing write this th

me: OKAY, LORD, I WROTE IT. can we think about something ELSE now?

brain: i have 7 new ideas :)

[shm128iii]

When you see how divisive the reviews for Rise of Skywalker are, and then realize it’s only going to get worse once fans get their hands on it

[adobe-outdesign]

If Batim fanfic prompts are still open, how about Henry meeting a transformed Grant or like discovering what hsppened to the poor accountant

The walls here are black. Henry can see where the wood’s been covered with ink, so dark that it’s become permanently stained. Huge webs, also black, criss-cross the exposed ceiling beams above him, swaying gently despite there being no breeze. Up ahead, there’s a light.

He places a hand on the wall for guidance, wondering how he got here, and starts to step forward, the rotting floorboards creaking ominously beneath his feet. Ink drips rhythmically from somewhere above. His mind wanders.

A loud snarl startles him back to attention.

His gaze follows the sound up above, and as his eyes adjust to the darkness he can see one of the Strikers on the beams. It’s walking on all sixes, pacing erratically. Without warning it suddenly slams its head into the black wall, some sort of muffled, distressed noise coming from one of its mouths. It thrashes about, clawing at the inside of its head-mouth violently enough to draw ink.

It’s completely insane, Henry realizes. He takes another step forward - only to hear the board creak loudly under his weight.

The Striker turns, staring at him with an unnervingly human eye. It emits a human-like whimper - was it trying to say something? - then begins to scramble down the beams, its multiple limbs making the climb effortless.Now that it’s in the light, Henry can see the deep gouges in its skin where the thing had been clawing at itself, as if trying to get the ink off.

Henry turns and rushes forward, no longer concerned with making noise but instead focusing on dodging the rotten areas of the boards. The Striker jumps down from the ceiling to the floor with a sickening crunching noise, the first mouth whimpering, the second one snarling, a black substance leaking from the human eye.

It leaps at him.

The floorboard breaks as Henry hits the cartoon with it. It drops to the floor, both letting out muffled whimpers and choking, gargling noises, twitching terribly. It finally dissolves away, and Henry drops the board, taking a moment to let his breathing return to normal. He walks backwards for a few steps, as if expecting it to come back to life and attack him again.

The black walls are starting to have gaps in the darkness, which only seem to increase as he moves forward. Henry’s mind drifts back to the noise the creature had made before attacking. Human-like, two syllables...

Hen-ry?

He stares back out into the lobby in front of him - and at the walls around him, which have become more sepia than black now. The ink’s become sparse enough that he can read it.

He stares at the writing all around him.

TIME IS MONEY TIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS MONEYTIME IS

[incorrect-ulster-cycle]

'not a fateblog' HOLY FUCK you summed up the biggest frustration with googling Irish mythology ever in one sentence

asdfjkl yes welcome to my life

imagine how confusing it is for medievalists working on actual academic papers and articles about cú chulainn to find themselves with, like, anime fans in their mentions disagreeing with them. because that has happened to me. and i’m just like.... why. why this.

[volbeast]

Me: *misses one (1) dose of my anti depressant*

Well I guess it's Feel 🅱️ad Time!!! 🌈🌈🌈😩👌👌👌

[inshortsupply]

finally prestiged my Quentin all the way so I dont have to worry ever again about this crap.

[leatherskinsuit]

my step grandparents are oppressing me because they're staying right next to my room

[orangeccreamsicles]

2cumlord replied to your post “Google search: How to express what I’m feeling and talk through it...”

2orry youre haviing a rough tiime dude.

Damn, dude, what a coincidence, I’m also sorry I’m having a rough time. We’re twinning right now. Samezies.

[korvax-prime]

what’s it called when you’re lowkey highkey starving but really Do Not Want To Eat

[mandrewsjr]

literally sobbing because my little sister told me I was her favorite friend after I made a sad post about not having friends 👉😎👉 this is my mental state !!!

[fujubun]

Prompto stopped. His eyes were watering; he felt like he was going to be sick. He couldn't handle this right now; he wasn't in the right mental state to have this conversation. And that only made him feel all the worse. Just the mention of the word 'food' made things worse, sending his mind spiraling back to years of self-hatred. All of this for a stupid, stupid photo. "S-s-sorry." He dashed off before he could have a full-blown meltdown in front of Ignis.

Ignis sighed heavily, taking off his glasses as he leaned forward, draping his elbows over his knees. He should have known the moment Prompto began to panic to send him to Gladio, or Noctis. He should have known that he would only end up worsening the others state of mind to the point of fleeing. Ignis should have known he wouldn’t be good enough to help – he never was. This should have been expected, and yet he thought perhaps things were okay for a moment.

When Prompto had fled, he couldn’t even bother to get up and follow after. Prompto would be in better hands than his own, someone else, nearly anyone else aside from him, would be able to do Prompto good. Ignis rubbed his eyes as his mind slowly blanked out, as his words died in his throat and his body grew numb. His own guilt and panic, self doubt and hatred slowed him down to a screeching halt.

Ignis knew he was useless from the very beginning, the very moment he was asked to take care of Noctis all those years ago. Certainly he had grown to show off perfection with every movement, grown to hide how bad he was at everything. Ignis had learned quite well how to hide his imperfections, but it was moments like these did that facade fall away. It was moments like these when he was forced to realize and remember just how much of a failure he truly was. 

He couldn’t even help Prompto calm down, what use was he good for? He couldn’t even do the most simple of tasks, he could help a friend in need. Perhaps they would simply be better off without him – after all what does he have to offer at most, his cooking? Even then, they could just go out, or learn to cook themselves. Another heavy sigh left Ignis – leaving sounded like the best current solution.

He remained there though, for now.

[obakeyashiki]

Summary:

Every time Cavendish dies, he says the same thing. And every time, Dakota brings him back, and it's like nothing ever happened. At least, to Cavendish, it is.

special tumblr summary: 

cav the idiot only wont say he’s in love except for when he’s in the middle of dying. dakota is an idiot too but with a lot more angst. this could all be easily solved if dakota would just tell cav how he feels :^) PLUS A GROOVY YET EMO SONG!

[magicmirrored]

@heereyo

{  ☾  }

It had been a week since that party.

Zane had somehow become more withdrawn than usual during school, jumpy and skittish and terrified. Headphones covered his ears most of the time, and his hoodie was almost always worn, hood up, blocking out the world. Most people didn’t question him, thankfully.

There was someone he had to find.

The final bell ran, and Zane was out into the hallway in a second. Laine was already informed he’d be staying after school--AV project, he told her. It killed him to lie to her, but she couldn’t know, she couldn’t know. Now, if his intel from Brooke was right, then his locker should be--

There! A shaky breath filled his lungs,and Zane approached the boy at the locker.

“... You’re... Jeremy Heer.e, right?”

No going back now.

{  ☽  }

[djmarinizelablog]

can i please request a levihan fic with Huling Sayaw by Kamikazee? i feel like it sums up their last moments tbh,, how they cherished their moments together in the forest but they know its gonna end soon

Hola! Here is an excerpt of an upcoming Levihan fic of mine called “Sycamores.” I feel like it fits the lyrics of Huling Sayaw by Kamikazee (or at least, the general vibe). Enjoy~ -----------------------------------------------------------------

The thing no one tells him about death is that it's actually swift and painless, or that it's barely one breath away from redemption. It's the final separation from the living, especially when Levi's been through so much more than anyone else ever did. The thing he's always wondered about it, though, is how the afterlife works in ways he'll never understand. 

Every bone in his body has ached for oblivion, every fiber of his being a call for release. There's a blinding flash of light and then that's it—all the years he's ever known cut in an instant. And to tell the truth, Levi has never been so relieved, so grateful as much as this.

He simply wakes up in a tent, completely healed and warm underneath a blanket, doesn’t question the circumstances at first. When he lifts up his hand, all fingers accounted for, Levi runs it through his face where his scar used to be. There is neither pain nor aching in his body. 

In fact, he feels whole. 

The first impression that comes to his mind is that he’s finally bitten the dust, and that none of this is real, or so it seems. He looks around and sees his button-up shirt and pants folded carefully right beside him. It's as if the afterlife has prepared a welcoming for him all this time. 

Outside, someone’s humming to a familiar melody, the sound of pots and pans unintentionally banging in rhythm, tree branches swaying in the wind.

Levi quickly puts his clothes on, tries to smoothen the strands sticking out of his bedridden hair and tells himself, well, shit, so much for peace and quiet. When he steps out, the grass crunches underneath the soles of his feet, loud and crisp.

The humming stops for a bit, and so does his world—

“Hange.”

“Took you long enough, Levi.”

Levi trembles and doesn't believe that it's Hange for a second. Then Hange opens their arms and the yearning makes him run straight for their embrace. He lets Hange’s name roll off his tongue once more. It lingers in the air, and for the first time, he feels completely safe.

“You're here, at last,” Hange says. 

There is too much wanting in the way Hange is holding him tightly, and Levi presses himself against their touch. No thoughts of war or blood or death in his mind. Only warmth and kindness. It’s like Hange has never left. Hange’s wearing the same clothes, the messy ponytail, and glasses that he will always recognize as theirs. Hange doesn’t have their eyepatch, he notices, realizing how much he has missed seeing those brown eyes staring back at him.

Levi swallows. “Is this…”

The place where they should have stayed. 

“The forest? You remember?”

Hange releases him and goes back to their humming, kindling a fire right below a pot and stirring the contents slowly. They’ve set up camp in the same place where Hange found him after that mishap, where Hange saved his life. Levi’s heart swells at the memory, finds it unbelievable that they’re back to where it all started.

And now Levi is eager to learn more. "Where are the others?” He whirls around and cranes his neck up the skies, the boughs hovering above them. “Is this heaven or hell? Are we stuck in limbo?"

Hange shrugs their shoulders. "Who knows?" They hand him a bowl of stew and some bread, a smile on their face. "Here, you'll feel better." 

The growl in his stomach reminds him of hunger. He sits down right beside them and takes a bite out of the bread before slurping some of the soup. It's hot and tasty, and fills him immediately. Hange’s cooking has always been outstanding, with what little resources the Scouts had back then. 

He sighs, “It’s been so long.” 

But has it, really? Has it been too long? Time probably works differently around here. All he knows is that he has never felt so relieved to be here. He watches Hange hike up their knees and pull them close to themself. 

“I'm just so glad to see you again,” Hange tells him in all earnest. There are breadcrumbs on the side of his mouth and Hange reaches out to wipe it with their thumb. 

Levi stops eating, makes him ponder about the exact words he hopes to say: “Hange, that day…”

Hange holds up a hand, their expression soft. “Take it easy, speed racer. Try not to choke on your meal for now.”

Levi clicks his tongue, mutters when he says, “I'm already dead, Four-Eyes, how bad can it be?” and gets to his food, this time slowlier. 

Hange yanks their head back in laughter; it's a wonderful sound that reminds him of the good old days. 

They have all the time in the world. 

[prettyboykatsuki]

Did I go watch Kuroko's Basketball because you were talking about aomine? Yes

Am I now a simp for aomine? yes

However did I also waste valuable study time watch three seasons of anime non stop? Also yes

Do I regret it? Absolutely not✨💅

*banging pots and pans together* WELCOME TO HELL! WELCOME TO HELL!

thank u for watching i promise to provide compensation thru content for ur time lost KJSJ