#*sitting emoji*

[violetsorengail]

back to negotiations :)

[jackfuckingtwist]

— I'm doing what I can, okay? Just...trust me. Please.

[amphibimations]

I’ve been reading + rereading a lot of discworld books lately so here are some doodles of characters from some of them.

[harbingersecho]

are we the sins we have committed? are we the things we have endured? [...] who are we?

[ref]

[shootingstarrfish]

request: simeon ending a phone call with "Amen" bc itd be so so silly

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My crush was giving me Spanish lessons in a very… sensual manner.

He was sitting on a chair, saying the Spanish words slowly, flirtatiously, and making me repeat them. I swear he was watching my every movement. I’ve never been more entranced.

[cometshift]

[wolfram-but-art]

here's some text posts that remind me of tf2 mercs part one for now because i'm eepy [pt. 1] (<- you're here!) [pt. 2]

rebl > likes

links to original posts under cut

NUH UH (spiderman across the spider verse spoilers (?)) payphone mic so hear me out... you did WHAT

[k9emote]

SOME FUCKING GUYS

some little mooshrooms n mooblooms

moobloom

moobloom sit

mooshroom

mooshroom sit

[seaofolives]

Creator sign-ups are still open until 2025 February 02!!!

🪽 About FTH 🦇 FAQ 🎭 Calendar 🎻 Supported Orgs 🐲

[searchingforserendipity25]

actually no, the best lawrellini conclave post-canon/au concept i can summon rn is innocent iv attempting to very earnestly match-make his dean of the college and secretary of state.

breaking their vows Would be a sin but considering the byzantine methods they are deploying to avoid being anywhere near each other inside the smallest city state in the world is:

an unnecessary complication to the new pope's ongoing mission to Make Empathic Changes For Good (Intersectional Version), which is going full steam ahead, with the sort of dedication a man who lives life expecting to be assassinated still, and means to make every day count.

oh, they're professional, of course; but poor monsignor o'malley is left trotting up and down the apostolic palace to share messages between their offices, because they refuse to text for post-conclave paranoia reasons (bellini) and because the expectation of replying in a digital format is a psychological torture for the emotionally-repressed luddite (lawrence). poor ray does not complain, but he has confessed to the pope his ankles aren't what they used to be.

they are old men, they are kind and very capable men. breaking their vows is a sin, of course. but to live is to sin inevitably. wasting good love into discomfort is far worse, vincent benítez thinks. they have to talk it out, at least. if he is to trust them to salvage something worthwhile out of the church, he has to believe they can salvage something true out of their friendship.

just kinda sad at this point, honestly.

the thing is. well the thing is. there is no polite way to tell the supreme pontiff you and your bestie already tried the secret romance thing once. and it didn't take.

they had their friends-to-secret-lovers, their shared office, their upstate drives with autumn leaves rusting and good music on the radio.

desperate embraces in the confessional of the new york cathedral. brushing hands and long glances that turned to long pining that turned to a summer of forbidden romance, turned to the anxiety of hiding their relationship to the world.

the rush of joy turned to unsustainable amounts of guilt, the longer it went on. misunderstandings, really: a lot of assumptions without communication. more resentment than either of them wanted to have for each other. the love was there, a great deal of it, but it was far from enough, when it put into question the work they were doing.

twenty years, give or take, since they last kissed in the pantry of a food kitchen in brooklyn, and put an end to the thing between them. they had their sad break up, their ex-lovers-to-friends again arc.

aldo went to paris, lawrence went to rome: they wrote, sometimes. called, met during conferences, meetings, conclaves.

the late holy pope's managed to get them to stop avoiding each other and get their shit together to pull off his own liberal win election years ago. they're fine now; they're good, they're okay. genuinely, mostly.

twenty years. recent events had made clear how much there was still to be understood between them, but they'd recognize each other's breathing in the dark anywhere. innocent xiv had managed to get them in the same confessional, on false and well-intentioned pretenses.

'it is sweet, really.' aldo says, trying to straighten his cassock, trying for wry irony, trying not to guess at the familiar profile, near enough to touch. 'are you going to tell him, or am i.'

'later,' thomas says. he swallows. it would be the easiest thing in the world, to press a hand against the grid of the partition, to pull it back, tug apart the curtains; for the curve of his adam's apple to move against aldo's palm. 'i'll explain it all.'

aldo snorts. 'maybe not all of it, if you please,' and it is enough to make lawrence quirk his mouth. the quality of the air between them alters, just enough for the closeness not to feel too suffocating.

there's nothing to be told, really. nothing to fix. only a misunderstanding. there is no way to explain the distance is not spite or shame, it is just distance. the measure of grace they give each other, now, after spending too long secluded together.

self-protection, yes; but also kindness going both ways. there is nothing to be talked out. there hasn't been anything to talk about for twenty years. if they give it enough time and enough turns of the rosary, one day that will even be true, god willing.

their eyes adapt to the gloom quickly. this part has never been difficult.

it would be the easiest thing. moving in the dark, pressing close, quieting gasping breaths with a mouth or a hand. he tilts his cheek, brushes the evening's stubble against aldo's. lightly, so it does not leave a mark - he has felt the phantom-sense of it before, he always does when they sit near.

the thing is, the confessional is closed from the outside.

but they are, after all, the secretary of state, the dean of the college of cardinals. between the two of them, they have enough master keys to open anything in the palace from the inside out, if either of them truly wanted to get out.

[10yearsofdnp]

January 10, 2015: Not Phil playing favourites again 😞 this Dan guy gets all his attention and he doesn't even care smh

[llemon-soda]

cuddles and kisses

[youredyingthatsallthereis]

"bug? you still there?"

roach jolted awake, nodding before he remembered ghost couldn't see him. "mhm," he hummed, hoping the affirmative was loud enough that ghost would hear.

"thought i lost ya there for a second," ghost teased. "gettin' sleepy on me again?"

just a little, but im fine, roach typed into their chat.

"hm," ghost mused into his mic. roach blinked and refocused on the stream; ghost was playing stardew valley for him again. they were quiet for a moment as ghost made quick work of harvesting some rice and jogging over to the barn his livestock were in. "if you're tired i can just cut it here, its not a big deal."

no no no, its fine! roach typed quickly. i like listening to you talk.

it was far from the first time he'd said it, but every time he said it now it felt...heavier, somehow. like there was more...something in it.

it had been a few months of this; they took turns streaming games for each other as a way to chat and hang out and over the course of their time doing it roach had found himself feeling more and more...something for ghost. he'd never had such a strong feeling about anyone before, nothing even close; he'd never felt so happy and calm and content to just listen to someone before.

ghosts accent was unique to his american ears, something he wasnt used to but that he enjoyed enormously. something lilting and calm and just distinctly ghost that made him smile every time the call connected and ghost said "hey bug." the gentle inflection, the sweet nickname, all of it just very...as much as roach felt flutters in his stomach admitting it (even in his own mind), it was just theirs.

presently ghost chuckled at the freely given compliment. "i love that you like to listen to me."

they always did it like this; a voice call for roach to listen to ghost when he streamed, and a video stream with chat when roach played survival horror for ghost. roach relied on sign and expressions/body language to convey his moods/reactions, and while ghost was still trying to pick up on some of the ASL roach frequently used (like 'why' and 'do not want') he hoped that ghost appreciated being able to see him.

ghost had told him early on that video calls made him feel a little awkward and that's why he just preferred voice, and even though he couldn't talk back roach was happy to do it this way. their way. more than anything he wanted ghost to feel comfortable and was ever grateful that he got to listen to him at all.

he smiled and cuddled his blåhaj closer, propping himself up against the wall behind his bed to try and stay awake. something about listening to ghost narrate what he was doing while he walked around his farm or the caves or even just stood and fished, wanting to get every single type of fish possible, made him feel so content and calm and frankly, safe. he felt embarrassed to even have the thought, but sometimes when he closed his eyes while ghost was talking he wondered if that was what it would feel like to have ghost really sitting next to him, talking to him close while he played maybe on a switch or on his laptop. he wondered if ghost would want them to sit close enough to be touching softly, maybe their legs pressed up against each otherwhile roach sleepily enjoyed his narrations.

"do you think i should bother with more chickens? or maybe more ducks? i like having the extra mayo for sale," ghost was musing out loud.

"hmmm," roach hummed thoughtfully. i'd go for a few more ducks as long as the hay to feed them isnt too expensive, he typed into their chat. they're cute and i love how you named them all after sanrio characters. you could call the next one tuxedo sam.

"true, kuromi the void duck was the last one i got, and that was a while ago," ghost considered. "and that big blue penguin is damn cute."

roach smiled. he loved ghost's fixation on sanrio characters, finding it as endearing as he was realizing he found just about everything else about ghost.

"are you sure you're not too tired?" ghost asked one more time. "its almost the end of the in game day and my save isn't going anywhere."

roach bit his lip. one more day? he asked. then i should probably go to sleep; its almost 1am here.

ghost chuckled over the call. "alright," he agreed. "one more day."

[jellyfishsempai]

Ba-da dum-dum-dum 🎺ba-da-baaaa-baaa da da-da🎺 dum-dum-dum 🎺baa-ba-da BA🎺 BA BA BA

[chasedeys]

https://vt.tiktok.com/ZS6DqqjKE/

😭❤️‍🔥

the way he fuckjsing STUDTTEREDDDDRD MIKE BROWNNNN DUKE TOSSBIN WHOEVER THE FUCKKKKKK WHEN I CATCH YOUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU

i can't do this.