#He is maaaad

[caethriel]

The tents were quiet and the stands were empty by the time that Caethriel returned to the Argent Tournament grounds. Several people passed him on their way to bed, but no one stopped to meet his gaze. Although it was not his inclination, Caethriel went straight to Crusader Aestus who had been charged with organizing the event. As Cae began to speak, Aestus clapped him on the shoulder.

“See you tomorrow,” he said on his way past.

No reprimanding. No accusation. Not even an acknowledgment that he had been gone. Caethriel was aware he smelled of ale and stale popcorn. Why did no one comment? He glanced across the grounds to the banners that Caethriel had specifically been tasked with setting up. They still sat in a neat pile to the side, some bolts of fabric still rolled up in the crate they had traveled in. His work had been ignored, and still, no one noticed.

With nothing left to lose, the quel’dorei walked to the building where High Crusader Adelard was seated. At the very least he needed them to know about his decision to take on this spellbreaker project. If they needed him for duty with the Crusade, it was better to schedule that sooner rather than later. 

“Sorry to bother you this late,” Caethriel began as he approached the human behind the desk. “I need to request leave. Th-”

“Granted. See you when you get back,” the commanding officer responded without looking up from his writing. 

Caethriel stood in stunned silence. He waited a moment, watching to see if Adelard would produce papers for his leave. Nothing. He muttered a half hearted phrase of thanks on his way out.

He had been gone, and no one had even noticed. Was he truly such a fixture that he blended into the background? As the crusader headed into his tent, he stared at the contents of his bunk. Adelard had not even asked how long he would be gone. 

—

Dufflebag in hand, Caethriel knocked loudly on his friend’s door. The dark haired man stared bleary eyed as he had been roused from sleep, staring out of the doorway to his Stormwind apartment.

“Shit Cae. It’s almost four in the morning. Did they kick you out?”

Caethriel shook his head as he strolled into Halidren’s domain. “No.”

In further confusion, Hal shut the door. “You leave then?”

“They didn’t even realize I was gone.”

With a grimace, Halidren gestured to his couch. “Well, it’s all yours.”

The elven man pulled a blanket from his luggage and slung it over his shoulders, silently seething as he stared into the upholstery. Would they have noticed if he hadn’t shown up those years ago? Were these the people he had dedicated so much of his time to?

As he lay in unrest, and the questions only stacked on top of each other, Caethriel cursed the ale that threatened to reintroduce itself to his throat and mouth.

[sinnbaddie]

Naruto has a multitude of characters where their writing is heavily based in queerness and queer experiences. From the devotion two characters have for one another to a point where they would trust each other with their lives, to feeling like the other one is the only person who truly to their core understands them and accepts them for who they are despite their flaws and issues they’ve done in the past.

Naruto as a series is so queer in its writing that the writer - whether intentional or not - made the main two characters always run after each other even if one of them fell into darkness, saying he’d shoulder the pain he’s holding just so he can be near him and you’re saying you think… Obito is gay?? The guy who literally lost his mind over a girl??

Edit: I’m talking about canon btw. Hc if you’d like I’ll always support that, but he’s not canonically gay or bi. His character is rooted in his love for a girl and the only reason he saved kk was to have time alone w Rin because he didn’t want him interfering. He’s in love w Rin and only Rin in canon🙇‍♂️

[thesamoanqueen]

They better run. All of them.

[bitethedevil]

I’m having fun on my “fuck the emperor (no not literally this time)”-run

The Emperor: And now you’ve come to murder me…

My Durge: Why does everyone always think I want to murder them? :(( I just want to talk

*Around 30 seconds later*

My Durge: *stabs him* >:)

[tb-png]

ALRIGHT STARTING OFF WITH MY CAT DAD GHOST HC:

the man is a cat whisperer, he doesn’t do SHIT and they come crawling. He’s literally the cat king, but can’t bring any of them home because he’s always busy with missions and he’s constantly devastated about it

(he does enjoy coming back to the base and being able to go out and just therapy himself by petting so many stray cats tho)

[sorvete-de-pacoca]

Friday prompt!

Many decades after their last battle, Afonso and Luciano try to be cordial but keeping an healthy distance towards each other, as it is expected of them.

It doesn't work.

Decades passed and Afonso was unchanged, like a marble statue. Only difference was the bags under his eyes and his serious expression.

Oh, he was mad. Luciano could feel the anger coming from him like a heating lamp. He was back on a Brazil who didn't belonged to him anymore and was left to deal with the damage caused by it.

He still looked hot. Fuck, Luciano hated how he couldn't deny this.

They kept their distance while their leaders interacted. Just standing behind them and following like shadows. Luciano would risk glancing at him and Afonso would always keep his eyes up front. Hm, so he was ignoring him. That's fair.

Eventually Luciano couldn't take anymore. Professionalism be damned, he waits until their leaders are away to approach Afonso, who still ignores his presence while looking at the window.

"So" he starts "how was the travel? Any storm in the way?"

No answers.

"I see, nothing worth mentioning. No mermaid encounters, I presume" Luciano chuckles.

Again, Afonso doesn't laugh with him. Instead, he closes the window and goes for the door, checking outside and closing it. Luciano watches he stand in front of him, confused. Without any warning, Afonso swings and hits him the face. Hard enough to make Luciano fall over a chair. The older man is too fast, he grabs him by the collar and hits him again more couple of times.

When there's a strand of blood coming from Luciano's nose he stops. Afonso sits on his lap and kisses him, roughly, more teeth than tongue.

Luciano laughs "I missed you too you old fart."

"Shut up" Afonso hisses, the first words since he arrived.

[hauntingblue]

BACK TO ONE PIECE LETSGOOOOO

[sadfruittheatre-rp]

"I can't believe this slander! I am so cute! Adorable, even! Way more than 75%... Way more than them...! Why, that's a barely passing grade...!"

[aftout]

how is bryce in the spider cereal au. because if he didnt get a cooking game i will cry and sob and still eat it up because i am starving for bryce content

OHH BRYCE BRYYYYCE MY BEST FRIEND BRYYCE.

They DID put him in a cooking game, gave him his old design back too from his cooking granny days. But so much of the modern audience was used to his CA X look that he was rendered almost unrecognizable. On top of that, the cooking game he’s put in is some hectic multiplayer title named Food Truck Mania where the whole premise is that you (the player) and your friends have to cook a variety of foods in a food truck. While it’s moving. As it’s being driven by a guy who can’t drive for shit. And Bryce is prone to motion sickness. They took the things he missed abt being a video game character and warped it into his worst nightmare.

[peaches2217]

9, 19, 23, and 31 😌

9. which do you prefer, hot coffee or cold coffee?

Cold, all the way. I have trouble processing the temperature of hot drinks, so I WILL burn myself unless I leave it to sit until it’s lukewarm. Cut out the middle man; give me ice in my coffee!

19. imagine we’re at a sleepover, would you paint my nails?

Um, yes! I’m the world’s worst at nails because my hands tend to tremor and I’ve got carpal and cubital tunnel in both arms, but if a messy paint job is fine by you, then I’d be honored. 😅

23. how do you feel about chilly weather?

My absolute favorite! My heat tolerance is low and grows lower every day. The weather is decent (read: below 80F) here in rural Oklahoma maybe four months out of the year, all told. 🥲

31. what type of music keeps you grounded?

Metal! Progressive melodeath is my personal favorite, but I love just about every subgenre. Letting myself get swept up in aggressive melodies or riffs, dissecting all the instrumental complexities, learning to understand different harsh vocal styles and what they’re actually saying… it’s the perfect music for taking my mind away from troubles and into a happy place. (Fittingly, I played my favorite Scar Symmetry song on my most recent shot day, and it soothed my nerves significantly, so I’ll be making that a habit moving forward!)

[frailgun]

terrible frame but im in love with my fit from the worcester monthly last night , finally warm enough to dress this dumb

[cleansingfiire]

And of course SHE lands a fucking bingo.

"If not for your attachment for the damned poros, I'd maybe consider. But I already crossed you out for it."

[bloodshedaria]

Whelp. Time to be a menace. Kate chucked one of her boots at Ji-Woon's head.

@wanderingsongbird

"-ugk!!" Caught unaware the boot flew true amd hit the popstar in the back of the head. Almost worse than the hit itself was his hair, which he ran a hand through fussily as he turned ti see who committed this grave insult and sin.

"Oi! What the hell do you think you're doing?! You dare to throw these Wal-Mart sale peices of trash at me? Perhaps someday you'll be able to afford something with some actual substance to them..." He sneered, reaching for, not his knives, but his bat. This was the sort of thing he intended to hurt. Not just now, but with a lingering ache to remind why you don't mess with him.

"Apologize."

[rennarita]

oh shota just came in through the crowd and booked it to the ring. no socializing with the crowd or any of his usual stuff.

[brazenlystrong]

“I told him this would happen!” His voice is grumpy and tense, the strain betraying his efforts to maintain composure. He knew what the odds were and even then Principal Yaga didn’t hesitate to send them out. Gojo on his own felt less stressed than he was with his others. To top it off, this is Shoko. She should be the last one to be sent out on missions. To say Gojo is fuming about this is an understatement. But maybe he needs that high blood pressure considering how cold it is.

He is lucky to have found an unoccupied house without any lingering residuals of cursed energy. He surely as heck won't be bringing Shoko where it isn't safe. The old roof had protected the house over the ages, so it's good that snow isn't going through any open holes.

He is unaffected by the snow due to his technique. Gojo reaches over with a hand to carefully pat away the snow on Shoko’s outerwear and then on her hair.

“I’m worried about you. Sorry you got dragged into this.”

Fighting the cursed spirit was child’s play for him, so he was able to exorcise it on time before it’d even tried to reach Shoko.

“We might have to stay here for a while. At least until the snowstorm calms down. Otherwise, I’m calling sensei to come pick us up.” He’s not over it yet.

Cont. [x] // @ashestxashes

[ricketybonez]

kitty cat DEMANDS. six hour minimum lap nap time. preferably to begin before four pm.