#But the laughing and crying was completely unrelated to eachother.

[topoceankitty]

I cried while drawing this thing with it's freakish little human hands.

So there's a book me and my mom recently bought that's absolutely amazing and hilarious (Furiously Happy by Jenny Lawson), but the picture on the paper cover thing scares my brother, so we turned it inside out and started drawing on it. And I think it goes to show how much this book was meant for me to have.

I hate this so much and I will proudly be displaying it on my wall and will be getting it tattooed on my arm as(s) soon as possible.

[cmbdragon98]

Please tell us more about how your wife tricked you into dating her

So, setup, details all under cut, cuz it's a bit lengthy. Fun story though!

Tumblr circa 2015. Junior year of high school. I've convinced myself that dating is NOT for me, and that I should just wait until college to fuck around and find out. Just gone through a nasty little emotional breakup where in the near future, I'll wish that thar 2nd ever relationship was simply, entirely expunged from my life.

Paige, known as benedict-cutiebatch here, makes a post about being bored and wanting asks sent her way. Send your best pickup line. This was back when people sent eachother asks willy-nilly. I think, "Oh, sure, I've seen this person around, she seems alright. I'll send something funny and stupid, maybe make her laugh."

Send the "hot leg, hot hot leg" poem thing. She is so amused by it, she asks for my hand in marriage. Yaddayaddayadda, back and forth of just playing around pretend times. I have a lot of lighthearted fun. Cue the interaction ending, and us doing our separate things again. A week or so passes, and I've been specifically checking her blog. I don't do that with anybody else. This is a new habit I've picked up, because I loved the silly fake marriage tee hee haha joke.

Send an ask saying as such. She expresses similar sorta thing on her end. And we start talking again. Talking waaaayyy mooorree.

We talk fully through the night. No sleep. We talk fully through that next day. Eventually we exchange Skypes, because that's what everyone did in 2015. Flirting through the roof. Terribly blatant. Oml. But we're not dating, we're just. Completely all up in eachother. And I'm perfectly convinced that this girl probably just wants to enjoy the fun of somebody being bluntly into her, but not actually follow through further then that, and we'd just remain terribly forward friends with eachother, and that's how life goes sometimes.

Until I recieve an anon ask, that basically asks if me and her are dating and how c u t e we both seem to be, and I Assume that this is an unrelated third party, because, again. It was just waaay more common to recieve asks like that, back when I was a teenager. I respond to it all...

"L o l, naaahh.... b u t... It's not a Bad Idea.... 👀"

Anon sends another ask all... You should! You should try asking!

I think nothing of it, I take it as quite genuine advice that I do frankly agree with. And so. That's what my ass did. Asked Paige out in the most goofy, awkward way, after sending her screenshots of the anons, all "Haha, omgg, isn't this just sOoOoOo CrazyYyYy?? How Silly, hahaha.......... Unless.....?"

Fast forward like 2 years later into us being together, she's visiting me while I'm at college, we've Been seeing eachother, we've been having fun! So much fun!

She's sat on my lap while we're waiting on a ride back to my home, outside at a table and chairs; my ass fucking commuted. It's winter, and terribly cold in NY. I'm holding her close, and she starts saying something like... "Hey, you wanna hear something kinda fucked up...?"

I'm intrigued, of course, I'm like. Shoot, okay! I'm all ears.

Tells me that She was the one who sent those anons, and that she had a feeling I wouldn't Just Ask without being prompted. She, as she put it herself, lied to and tricked me. And she's clearly all broken up over it a bit, because she's sounding so hesitant as she tells me it.

I just sigh, hug her tighter, and I'm honest. Recalling best I can, I think it was something along the lines of...

"Thank goodness you did that, because you were totally right. I was too nervous otherwise, to just do that myself. And I would've kept on thinking you only wanted somebody to flirt with. I liked you too much. I didn't want to accidentally ruin anything between us."

Poor thing starts crying. So I just keep holding her, and telling her I love her, and that I'm r e a l l y not upset, after she says she was so worried that I would be, that I'd hate her, or think our relationship was built on a lie. I just see it as a perfectly reasonable thing to do, when someone too stuck in not doing the wrong thing, is too afraid to just ask for what she wants.

So yeah, basically, I got led into a relationship with a carrot and then a box slammed down around me, and I was completely chill with it the entire time. I truly was just having a blast.

[wolftheidioticfan]

THROWS fanfic at Count Lucanor tag before running away in fear of being seen.

I wrote this at like 9-10 am after staying up all night long and I do not know how to write and this is rooted so deep in headcanon that I will die of sheer embarrassment from having interests and writing. Also kinda rushed because I started getting way too self conscious midway through oop. B nice to me ok bye Ahhhh-

Nights without much going on in terms of the trial were nice enough, he supposed. Quiet, calm, and no unnecessary death at the hands of some blasted old man’s curse. Usually, peaceful nights like this were spent in his room, conversing with his closest friend and most trusted castle official, but tonight had been...a little off for the kobold. He was much more lost in his own head, leaned back against the bed as he stared blankly at the ceiling above.

He could hear The Camerlengo speaking, rambling about whatever was on the very strange man’s mind that day, but for the love of it all Patronio could not make out a single word of it, too focused on his own mind. Tonight’s worry was just how much the world had changed since this awful, awful curse had befallen the castle. The jester sighed softly to himself. This was never how he had imagined things would end up, cast aside by the rest of the world and put in-charge of some horrid ‘tests’ that did little more than dismember anyone who would dare take part in them.

It just wasn’t fair. He was in a time period far, far from his own, and completely unable to even take part in a single activity, nor know a single soul outside of the castle. Just how much had passed by? Advanced? While he was here to rot away, forgotten.

The sudden quiet of the room caught his attention, causing Patronio to let out a confused hum in response.

“You are not listening!” The Camerlengo’s loud, boisterous voice sounded out in the small room, “You know one person cannot have a reasonable conversation with themselves!”

The kobold chuckled, keeping his eyes steady at the dusty ceiling, “Sorry...I’m sorry, really. I’m listening now.”

“You are not!” The tall monster of a man snapped back, pointing a finger into the jester’s side, “The Camerlengo would like to know why you are ignoring him!”

Patronio squealed from the clawed jab to his ribs, squirming away, “I’m just- a little lost in thought is all. I’m sorry my dear friend, truly, it was not my intention.”

“Oh!”

And then it was quiet again. Uncomfortably so for the jester, causing him to sit up and see just what exactly his friend was doing. He blinked once or twice when he noticed the other’s eyes directly on him.

“Well! What is it you are thinking about?” The Camerlengo grinned, “That could be a good conversation piece!”

Patronio sighed heavily, pressing his fingers down into the soft paw-like pad in the middle of his palm, waving his other hand dismissively, “No, no, it’s really nothing interesting. What were you trying to tell me again, something about the garden?”

His friend’s eyes narrowed slightly, placing his hands on his hips in a disappointed manner as he spoke, “Well! He thinks you keep far too much to yourself lately! Very unlike you, Jester.”

Rolling his eyes – though with a lack of pupils, the action was mostly pointless- the kobold sighed heavily. He knew how this would go, this was a common pattern the two had gone through many times before. If The Camerlengo was set on something, it was rare for him to ever give up on the subject. Something he could admire in the tall man’s work, but something he’d utterly loathe when it came to things he’d much rather keep to himself.

“I don’t have a choice here, do I?” Patronio half hissed, flopping onto his back once more, resting his hand on his cheek with a puff.

“Not if you are going to be so gloomy and distant, no!”

He groaned in response.

“Besides, it is not a good idea to hide things! You know this. What else would friends be for?”

He hated when the other was right like that.

“...Fine,” the jester huffed, “You win.”

Quiet for a moment. Then two.

“Well?” The Camerlengo prodded, “Are you to talk or not, Jester?”

Nope, no getting out of this. Patronio loathed the serious conversations about emotions and fear...They were never any fun at all and only reminded him of the harshness of the situation the castle had been tossed in. With another annoyed groan, he began with the first thing on his mind.

“...A lot of time has passed, you know,” He blinked at the ceiling. When had he last dusted up there?, “The towns and world we once knew is now….very different. Yet, we are still stuck in the same days as before this wretched curse.”

He expected a quip or two, or something stupid and unrelated to be uttered from his friend, but for once found disappointment when no words were spoken. Great, he was simply listening. Why did he have to be quiet now, of all times? Discussions like this were not the kobold’s favorite! He knew this, right?

Of course he did, Patronio realized. That was exactly why he was silent, knowing the small blue creature would leap at any small opportunity to push this awkward conversation aside and change the subject. Blasted.

He gripped his cloak tight, thumb running across the slightly worn fabric as he continued, “I’m unsure how much has changed, what with being bound to this castle and forest. It is frightening to know that I-...That all of us have been forgotten to time. We have nothing to bind us to this timeline, no one to...remember who we were.”

Balling his fist, he fought back the crack he felt coming in his voice, “Is it not cruel, to be cursed to forever roam in a world that does not need you? Only to exist as a pawn for a game that no one, not even the one ‘in control’ can win? Isn’t it cruel to have caught all the innocents in it as well, forcing them to look to a lonely, foolish court jester for their guidance?”

“Jester-”

“And isn’t it just awful? Awful to know that after being forced into this terrible leadership, that everyone who has died blames you? And that-...if you really think about it, it is all true after all? But what are you supposed to do then, let down everyone else whom wishes not to be apart of this curse? Doom them to an enteral prison because you don’t want to be blamed? Selfish! Selfish to become so cowardly! Perhaps you are deserving of your shame then!” His voice had raised without realizing it, hissing and spitting his self-anger freely, “Yes! Cower away dear fool, cower away and let others die as you lie to their faces about these trials!”

Was he crying? Patronio felt like he was crying. It hurt.

“Jester! Jester...” He simply whined when The Camerlengo’s thumb brushed his face, wiping off the cascade of tears he was now very, very aware of, “What has gotten into you?”

“...I...I never asked for this,” the kobold murmured, shoving the other’s hand off himself, “I never wanted this! I am merely a jester-….How could one ask me to just let others die? I only wanted-...I wanted to bring joy.”

“...He knows, Jester,” It was always strange when the tall man was quiet, soft spoken even, “The Camerlengo knows you are not to blame for this curse.”

“Yes, I know you understand that,” He grumbled, shoving the hand away once more, “Knowing so many people’s blood is on your hands however-...”

“But it is not! You know that. You did not….cause this.”

“But I continue to go along with it.”

“For the sake of the castle, yes? The Jester is no coward, he is only doing what has been forced on him!”

“...Hm,” Patronio sighed in half acknowledgment, “Yes, this is…for everyone...”

“Then why blame yourself so harshly? He...does not see the reason to.”

“I know, I know my friend,” He hummed, “Not much ever makes sense, does it?”

“No, not often.”

“...I’m aware this is no fault of my own. I suppose it’s just morphed into guilt due to well...I am the “face” of this entire operation now, since The Count’s death.”

“Ah...He sees, then.”

Quietness took over again, mixed with the heavy breathing of the previously sobbing kobold. Why had it gotten quiet again? He didn’t like it. Would he just speak already? This-

“Augh!” Patronio hissed, feeling himself quickly lifted from his very comfortable spot, “Let me go!”

The small male thrashed wildly from being so suddenly grabbed, slowly turning into small squirms as he was firmly pressed against his friend’s chest in a hug. A half growl escaped him, dying off in his throat as a hand gently rubbed the back of his head.

“...Do you still want to be let go, Jester?”

He puffed a bit, gripping The Camerlengo’s coat in his hands tightly, “...No. But do warn me before you do that! I don’t appreciate being grabbed like that.”

“Well! You looked like you needed a hug, so The Camerlengo decided to help with that!” The tall man smugly smiled.

Settling further in his friend’s arms, the kobold just let out a soft ‘eugh’ in response, squinting when he was met with a loud laugh. Whatever, this was fine.

“You worry of being forgotten?”

“...We already have been, my friend. There is not a soul left to remember any of us here.”

“Hm, well that certainly can’t be right!”

Patronio arched his eyebrow in confusion, “What do you mean by that? Years- Centuries have passed.”

“We are still here, are we not?”

“...Yes?”

“Simple! We remember eachother, yes? He remembers you, you remember The Camerlengo! We are not forgotten then.”

“Hah...” The kobold snickered once, slowly elevating into a full laugh, “Yes, yes...Of course we remember each other, you strange man! We’re friends, after all.”

“Well then! Someone remembers you, then! And therefore, someone does not blame you either!”

His giggling continued, rubbing his face further against his friend’s coat, realizing perhaps he truly did need this conversation after all. The other’s laughter joining in only heightened the strange joy the silly words had brought the kobold.

“See, you see? The Jester is very good at bringing joy!”

He snorted, squeezing just a little harder, “Stop, you’re going to make me cry again...You goof...”

[grailacademy]

Welcome To Grail Academy - Chapter Ten: Another Life

Azora’s arms were folded over her chest at the front door. Over the years, the strain of battles and the unrelenting passage of time left her body misshapen and damaged. Stiff in some places, squishy in others. Her hair was once the same mousy brown as her grandson’s, but now it was a stringy grey bun balancing precariously on her head. In a way, her disheveled appearance affirmed her reputation. She zipped up the wool sweater and stepped out onto the small porch of her crooked apartment. It was built on a steep hill with low-bearing structures, so it hunched over the same way Azora did when she walked. “Yorick!”, she shouted to a small boy across the street, who was sitting in the grass and crying. “Get ‘yer ass back inside.”

She washed the bits of dried blood off his knees with a wet cloth, and bandaged the scrapes with Yellow Kitty bandaids. Yorick sat at the dining table on a chair with 3 extra cushions so he could see the chicken soup he was eating, feet dangling over the floor. He had always been a sensitive child. He threw a couple of chunks of the meat to two dogs that slept under the table, splattering drops of lukewarm broth over their white coats. “How many times do I gotta tell ya,” Azura rattled plates in the sink as she spoke, “you ain’t Superman, kiddo.”

“I know, Gramma.”

“Not made a’ steel.”

“I know, Gramma.”

“You have to be careful.”

“I know, Gramma.”

When she knelt down next to him, her bones cracked and popped like some kind of cheap candy wrapper. She placed her brittle hand on his leg. “You ain’t built like other little boys, Ricky.” He couldn’t look into those milky blue eyes that watched him with worry, so instead he played with the peas that bobbed around in his soup. Across from the dining table, in the hutch that housed the nice china that they never used except when grown-up friends visited, he saw an old photo in a wooden frame. A man and a woman, holding a boy much smaller than the size he was now. “Tell me a story about Ma and Da?”

The request took Azura by surprise, but she didn’t decline. She sighed, pulled up a chair, and scratched the underside of her chin trying to think. “Hm….let’s see. Well, your father was a gentle kind. Brought your mother flowers every day, even before they married. Now your mother, she was the wild one. I remember, their first date she took him to the tracks to throw bottles at passing trains! Their wedding was something fierce. Your ma was so stuck on me coming that she followed me on a mission, into a Grimm-infested forest on a moped to deliver an invitation. She was a crazy girl, that one.” She paused to laugh, and Yorick laughed along with her. He didn’t completely understand everything she was saying, but it was nice to be reminded that his parents didn’t only exist in photos.

“The reception was a hot mess. The Violletas drunk and screamin’ about some great-great-aunt’s stolen silverware, the Navyns hiding behind the catering service van. Gosh, your father even got his glasses broke trying to grab a slice of cake! But the ceremony. The ceremony was beautiful. First time I’d ever seen that family stay quiet for more than 7 seconds. The vows even had me tearing up. They really loved eachother….” She reached out and tousled her grandson’s hair, “And they loved you too. A whole bunch.”

Yorick looked up at the flickering light in the empty locker room and smiled to himself. It was hard to tell when the high hit, so thinking back on fond memories always helped to pump it through him a bit faster. The tournament only lasted an hour, but it felt like an eternity to him. He heard cheering from the stadium, people talking and laughing outside the locker room. His friends. He should probably go out and talk with them, pretend like he was a normal person who wasn’t an addict on the verge of having a breakdown, but he couldn’t get up. He just wanted to stay there for a bit longer, sitting in the serene. He relished the peace for a few good minutes before putting out the cigarette butt under his shoe. It had been so long since he had been left to his own devices, much less done so in a quiet room. It was nice. He was so happy to be in his own little world, he never noticed the shadow slipping out of the room behind him.

“I can’t believe I lost.” Queenie bandaged her hands in the dugout, and Buck cleaned the barrel of his sniper while while watching the final match. Beau against Scarlet, and her partner was close to losing. “Don’t get hung up on it. The fight isn’t what mattered.” Rettah skipped down the steps to her team, heels clicking on the cement as she announced, “Screw it, we’re moving to phase two.”

“What?”, the both of them questioned.

“We’ve got all we need on him.” She held up a still smoldering cigarette butt between her fingers. Buck and Queenie both sat up, eyes widening. Rettah smiled at her friend’s reactions, flicking the butt onto the floor. The crowd whooped and threw their empty cups, and those resting in the dugout turned to see Beau pumping her fist in the air in revelry, Scarlet slumped bottom-up with her foot planted on his back. Rettah continued, twirling her hair. “Besides, we have nothing better to do now. Let’s bounce!”

“Esme, babe, why do you have so many feather boas?” Nico was rummaging through the trunk at the end of her bed, looking through all of the fancy clothes as Esmerelda posed in front of the mirror with an orange boa. “I like to have options”, she retorted, swinging the end around her neck like a foxy Atlesian duchess. “And don’t call me babe.”

The fights still had the adrenaline of everyone on EBNY rushing, which made getting ready for the dance that much more exciting. Esmerelda brushed out the wrinkles in her gown and painted another coat of polish on her nails, Nico did his hair and applied stolen eyeliner in the bathroom mirror, Bernard fumbled with his cufflinks and necktie until the green goddess of their group came to his rescue, and Yorick sat uncomfortably in a desk chair in his skirt and suit jacket. He wanted to say something to them. He wanted to tell them he was sorry, that he was being a jerk. But he didn’t want to ruin the moment, this little scene of comradery and happiness. Instead, he stood up and went to the door. “I’ll see you guys at the dance, I have to go pick up my date.”

“Our little Yorick is growing up so fast! Now, is this date of yours a real person, or is it a body pillow?” Nico cackled at his own joke, and Yorick laughed along nervously if only to get him to stop. Then he left the room, Esmerelda watching him leave in the mirror. “Not like us, Bernie. Going stag, it keeps things open for possible….encounters, haha.” He nudged Bernard’s shoulder, but his partner only rubbed his arm in response.

“Actually, about that. Have to pick up my date too.”

“What?”

“Can’t keep Iris waiting.”

“Iris?”

“Yup.”

“Iris.”

“Yup.”

“You?”

“Yup.”

“And Iris?”

“Yup. See you later.” Bernard gave them a small wave and left the two of them to their own devices. As they watched him stroll out, hands in the pockets of his suit, Nico’s mouth hung agape. “Huh.” Esmerelda pat him on the shoulder and shook her head with a rie expression. “Tough break, Romeo.”

“Rettah? It’s Yorick, are you ready?” He knocked on the door to BRSQ’s dorm room, which creaked open slightly when he hit it. Strange. It was unlocked, and the lights were off. He took a step back to weigh things out. He didn’t want to invade their personal privacy, but….something was wrong. He went against the advice of the little voice in his head telling him to walk away, and what he found was complete chaos. The room was ransacked, mattresses flipped over, clothes scattered on the floor, the sink in the bathroom running, the window shattered. Something sat folded neatly on the desk.

Just before they were about to leave, the door to their room swung inches away from Nico and Esmerelda’s noses, Yorick clutching a piece of paper on the other side of it. “Get Bernard and the rest of BRSQ.”

“What’s going on?”

“They took Rettah.”