#1 accept the gift

[abstractef]

Imagine that you're chilling in your house and you start thinking there is a ghost living with you because there is someone eating your food, drinking your wine and sleeping in your bed.

Later you go to ask your neighbour about some money he owes you (he refuse of course). And out of nowhere there is this guy that is like yeah, sorry about my friend no giving back your jewelry, he is being a little shit. Here you have his heirloom and by the way you need a softer bed.

You're Thranduil and the ghost is Bilbo

[remmicreates]

FInally, FINALLY, found a way to draw bloodweave in a way I liked :D!

[allay-uxini]

So back in Empires season 1 when Sausage was starting to get possessed and corrupted by Xornoth he had that dramatic split from the Wither Rose Alliance which was when the roseblings felt Sausage was too far gone for saving. Then Sausage went back to Mythland and built these dark buildings which was meant to be big turning point in the narrative where Sausage has gone fully evil and there's no turning back with the buildings cementing that, and yet the buildings he decides to build are a tower and a blacksmith.

Let me repeat that again

The first thing Sausage did when he stopped being allies with the wizard and the tinker was build a tower and a blacksmith

Sausage never stopped loving those two, it's a shame they never realised that until it was too late.

[devil-acid]

happpyyy (late) birth

@neytui

[ban--tam]

wolf guy mittermeyer

[girlthativealwaysbeen]

So I wrote this next song a few days before my nineteenth birthday. And, um, back then, I was so terrified of change, and I was especially afraid of growing up. And I'd, like, cry at all my birthday parties as a child. Very, very emo.

Now that I'm 21, I don't feel afraid of growing up at all. In fact, I'm really, really looking forward to it. And, um, if I could give any advice to the 18-year-old girl who wrote this song, I'd tell her not to worry so much, and that she has no idea how many magical, magical things are waiting just around the corner for her. So, uh, with that, here's "teenage dream".

- Olivia Rodrigo at the Guts World Tour before playing teenage dream

[unproduciblesmackdown]

omgg lol [guy who won't stop going "more like scapeGOATED" voice] now hold! on!! lmao [same guy just saw encanto voice] Hold on!!!

[child-ofdust]

i thought turning 16 was supposed to be awesome. all i've done is cry all day because no one but my sister seems to give a fuck abkut me and my feelings and what i want. all ive been able to think about is bella or sam or any f/o comforting me all day and i know thats silly and i know that's stuoid but i still cant stop crying

[cutexasxabutton]

|🎄| ❝Uh, uh, I think this is a tag dump?❞ |❄️|

[futurewife]

tw rant about how I am currently stuck in a major mid 20s life unfuckening crisis

I regret going to university so bad omg all that money for nothinggg!! I wish I had not believed in the myth of doing what you love/are good at as a career or the narrative that I was special and could do better for myself. I don't HAVE a passion. I borderline think im contributing a net negative to the world and am only here out of societal pressure for people to have children. Like most people I'm going to live an unremarkable forgettable inconsequential existence. plus now im back to like square one at 25, dropping out of a masters with zero career prospects. the only kind of dream I ever really recall having was "being someone's girlfriend/find someone to love." Which I have also not achieved. ����🔫

And if I'm thinking this way why did I waste so much time and money fumbling through the university system for useless/incomplete degrees when what I should have focused on was just... getting money for survival and self sufficiency (in the event I cannot find a partner to co exist with- I will be going it alone, and as a single woman that can be very difficult finanically) stupiddd 🧠🚫

I actually resent being treated like im special. The problem was my parents decided i was intelligent and capable and then I never really was seen as someone needing assistance or someone who could struggle. I think that was more wishful projection and it fuked up my life and my self worth (because I couldnt produce their desired results- academic achievement? prestigious career success? being some kind of brilliant outlier?). yes im blaming my parents for this one LOL

[gospexchange]

Hello! If this is a poetry exchange, can we write poetry for it too? Only that, shorter than 1000 words?

If one of the songs or poems you receive as a prompt inspires you to write a poem of your own, by all means!

While your poem does not need to be 1000 words long, we do ask that you put a similar amount of time and effort into it as it would take to write about 1000 words of fic-- after all, no one wants to receive a single 10-word haiku as their finished gift!

Try to aim for at least 200-300 cumulative words, though this total is somewhat flexible, since writing poetry can be harder to quantify than normal fic. If you prefer working with shorter poetry formats, consider writing a series of connected poems! Or, if you're feeling generous, one poem for each of your giftee's prompts (should they submit more than one!)

[vampiiric]

having dyscalculia and loving math sucks so BADDDD it's like. my love. i adore you. I obsess over you at every waking moment. you are beautiful in ways I cannot describe, fixed yet flowing like water. and yet I cannot touch you, cannot speak to you. because of my STUPID DUMBFUCK BRAIN.

[randomwriteronline]

Mustrudi came cold, and with it came the university’s winter break; and on its eve Ingo blew gently on his fingers to keep them warm.

The sea was calm, and there were slow heavy flakes falling from a grey sky. He could immagine the top of those clouds with a staggering clarity - the shifting waves and the softened rush of the wind, smoothening everything into quiet, like the ocean of cumuli that had his knees weak as he watched it pass by through the ruined top of Dragonspire Tower.

(They had seen it as children, taken by their uncle, and they had spent what felt like an hour looking at it breathlessly, Emmet had said - and then they had dragged Iris along when she was old enough, which was why she had been the one to bring him back to those beautiful old stones to see that vaporous sea so perfectly reflected in the saltwater he was sitting on right now.)

His eyes followed the light gray trail of the cigarette’s smoke back down, until he reached the reddening tips of Briosa’s fingers, peeking through her mitts.

She took a drag and swayed it out of her mouth with a lazy motion, letting her hand fall on the knee she had propped up on its twin; flat lips pushed forward, she blew without whistling, slow, so that the smoke would build up, turning into big soft bouts of fog.

Her short frame let her lay across the width of the boat, heavy boots hanging safely above the waves without getting wet, an arm sitting on the railing, head reclined and cap down over her closed eyes. Relaxed.

Mawile was swaddled tight and warm in an old repurposed fleece scarf, following Cryogonal’s trajectory as she floated about way too high.

The air was crisp.

It reminded him of the Icelands when the summer ended (always too quickly) or the Highlands when the spring came (always too slowly).

Ingo breathed in and felt at peace.

How nice.

Briosa sniffled: the tip of her long broken nose curled like a Buneary’s, red as a Cheri, and she rubbed it with the coarse wool back of her gloves.

“Alright,” she announced, pulling her legs back into the boat and slapping her cigarette back in her mouth, “Better get back to shore before our asses fall off from the cold or Emmet finds out you’re over the big terrifying ocean and tries to kick my rotulas in.”

Ingo snorted.

The wind cut at his face; he hid it deeper in his coat.

She stopped him before he could say bye on the docks, reaching into her backpack and pulling out some kind of plastic bag chock full of little dumplings.

“Warm Mustrudi!” she said, handing them over to him. “Turtlén. With the pasta and the meat stuffing made by hand by me. Takes two minutes to cook in boiling broth. Don’t know how many people y’all might be having with you know, family, Elesa, so I got you a bunch since I make way too many just to be safe.”

“You did not have to!” Ingo replied, signing slowly as he spoke.

Briosa smiled sharply with her wide rectangular grin: “Yes I did! I promised Emmet a year or more back I’d make them for him and then I kept forgetting. And anyways it’s tradition! Turtlén in broth on Mustrudi eve. It’s even snowing. Perfect weather.”

The taller man accepted, thanking her profusely and asking her to wait just a moment. The substitute looked curiously as he rummaged in what seemed to be an endless pocket of his coat.

When the other pulled out a pair of tall disks wrapped in thick white papers and offered them to her, the cigarette nearly fell out of her mouth.

“Is that the-?”

“Gogoat brie!” he nodded.

“The one you guys had back in--?”

“Correct!”

Briosa looked up at him with eyes so wide they barely fit in her face.

“For me?” she asked, voice so high in pitch and cutesy it was almost enough to give him twelve cavities and then some.

Ingo nodded again, thrusting the cheese in her hands. For a moment, she did not seem at all a thirty-one years-old man with a tooth collection and a penchant for violence; she was giddy, like a little boy with the world in his hands, eyes shiny and gleeful with disbelief, holding the food to her chest like it was the most perfect gift ever.

It was literally just cheese.

Knowing her, she couldn’t wait to cut a slice for her father to try out that evening.

Warm Mustrudi!, Ingo signed as loudly and fluidly as he could.

Briosa laughed her rubber Ducklett laugh as he began to leave, Mawile waving at him from her shoulder, her squeaky voice hindered by the cig she was still trying to hold onto until it finally fell into the water; she slapped a hand over her curly bracket-shaped smile and blew him the biggest kiss.

[superbdonutpoetry]

Things That Differ are Not the Same

This blog is read not only by those who are saved, but also those who are not, hence this post. Here are several good reasons why you shouldn’t be a Bible blender. The instructions and good news given to Paul by the ascended Christ pertaining to salvation for all men, as well as edification concerning the Body of Christ during the Age of Grace, differs to that of: *Adam &…

[flammenxci]

> Kept away from second oldest step sister due to covert stunts she's pulled with our dad.

> She crossed a major line is a "nice" but skeevy af manner.

> Has a feeling she's gonna pull some BULLSHIT shortly before, during and after our dad dies.

> Staying out of contact to protect my peace, everyone else in house can talk to her, go out with her, etc, just leave me alone.

> Got news oldest step sis just got a grim diagnosis, docs don't give her long to live.

> Time to go back into "hide and watch" mode.

> For once, can life prove me wrong? Do not confirm my suspicions with that woman by using her older sister's shitty situation as a preview for what's going to happen with our dad. Please just this FUCKING once.

> Sometimes I really wish my pattern recognition skills are wrong and I get pleasantly surprised.

> Let me be wrong, just this one time.

[milkandraspberry]