#I want grilled cheese…

[rath00ker]

The world is ending Rath00ker writes a fanfic (not clickbait)

Fellow x Reader

Idk he shaves your legs for you. I’m writing this cause I just shaved my legs and my marriage with Floyd has now ended Fellow is my new husband. Reader is GN but probably more Masc aligned. Fellow might be written out of character idk the event isn’t out on eng servers and we’re still boycotting Disney. Also Reader isn’t Yuu they are a performer at Playfulland.

Why did he insist on doing this?

You could only stare down at Fellow as he kneeled in front of you holding your ankle as he shaved your leg for you. You had forgotten how this all started. You had to shave your legs for certain performance outfits, ones that showed off your legs and as the ‘kind’ ‘honest’ and ‘helpful’ man he claimed to be he insisted on doing it for you. Sitting on a black stool as Fellow kneeled in front of you carefully shaving your leg with a straight razor. He’s never nicked or accidentally cut you before so you continued to let him do what made him so clearly happy.

Fellow hummed as he wiped the razor cleaning the hair and shaving cream off the blade with a towel he had next to him. He had taken off his hat and navy blue coat along with his gloves. You simply sat with your chin held in your hand and watched as he continued to work. “My Dear why do you seem so bored today?” He asked stopping for a moment before looking up at you. “Boring day.” You answered simply

“How sad, has the life of a performer bored you? I can’t imagine how it has, traveling around seeing new faces making new dolls.” Fellow said with a hum as he continued to his work of shaving your leg. “You meet so many people you’ve met them all.” You replied bluntly. “Oh don’t be so sour, least we have you too bored to perform anymore” Fellow said only to be met with your bluntness again. “I’m an actor. I can be as bored as I can ever imagine and still put on a good show. Are you doubting me Honest.” You asked as he cleaned off your leg having finished with that one

Fellow only hummed a small grin on his face as he cleaned off your leg with a wet towel. He kept two towels with him when he shaved your legs, one in a bucket of warm water and one dry for cleaning off the razor. After he finished he’d get a third towel to dry off your legs. He let go of the ankle to your right leg and held out his hand which you put your left ankle into so he could start work on your left leg. “Oh I’d never doubt you~” He said with a grin as he applied shaving cream to your left leg. “Why would I doubt my favorite performer? It just aches my heart to see you so bored” he said with a dramatic tone. “Wow and how many other performers have you told that too?” You asked only for Fellow to chuckled

“I’m starting to believe I’m just your favorite pair of legs Fellow.” You said as he shaved your left leg. “Oh you wound me so” he said as he continued to kneel in front of you holding your ankle gently. Oh you were definitely his favorite

[teaboot]

Sometimes at work it's not my place to tell people the things I want to say, and I find I often go home at the end of the rougher days to stand blankly in my shower and tell myself over and over what I wish I could pass on.

This accomplishes very little, and mostly just gives me a tension headache, but through it all I think I've narrowed myself down to a few solid things I'd like to tell people the most.

You can't change people. Not permanently, not for anythig. You can support them, encourage them, love them, give them tools and opportunities and resources, but you can't make them change. They can change themselves if they want to, but they have to want to, and they have to want it for themselves, because they're the only one that's certain to be with them forever.

For better or worse, you make your own choices, and blaming bad choices on others doesn't only work to absolve you of responsibility- it also robs you of control. Because if you say you only did something because I did something, then you arent only shifting blame- you're admitting that you cannot control yourself, that you cannot truly make choices for yourself, that other people can control you- and as long as you truly beleive that, you'll keep facing the same problems over and over. You'll keep letting others dictate your choices, because you'll beleive that they can, and you'll never be free.

White knights on horseback are from fairytales. Nobody can help you if ou're not willing to help yourself. To try, to put the dirty work in, to belive you're worth that effort- Act as though nobody is coming to save you. From a struggle, from pain, from bad relationships, from yourself. And when you do save yourself, because you will, because failure here isn't an option if you want to survive, you'll never find another dragon that can keep you prisoner.

Don't say anything to anyone that you wouldn't want them remembering forever.

Doing the right thing in bad circumstances is hard. It's the hardest thing. But if you make the choice to do that hard thing anyways, despite your fear, you'll go on the rest of your like knowing that you're the sort of person who did something.

The present only seems the hardest because the past I over and the future hasn't happened.

There's so much joy ahead of you, the kind you can't possibly understand until you see it yourself.

The responsibility of consequences is often disguised as the power of permission. "I won't do this if you help me", "I'll work on my anger if you do this for me", "I promised you I'd quit, but can I have just one?". The unspoken question is, "Can it be your fault if this goes badly?"

You cant make someone love you the way you need to be loved. Someone can love you very much and still be bad for you, even if you love them very much in return. Two people can love each other very, very much, and try their very best, and still be wrong for each other.

Sometimes being near to someone changes you, even in good ways, and the people you become don't fit together as well as the people you were.

Caring takes work. Even if it's real. Especially if it's real. And the most important gestures aren't the grand, poetic, songs-and-flowers-and-tears moments; they're getting out of bed even though you don't want to. Paying attention to things you don't enjoy. Scrubbing pans, or opening a window, saying "thank-you", or helping carry groceries into the house. The small things fill the big things- without the small, boring, mediocre things, big things feel hollow.

Thrre is honour and dignity in humble work.

If you are a cruel and spiteful person, then you will find every place you visit to be full of the same cruel, spiteful people. This is not because the world is as cruel as you, but because everywhere you are, you will be disliked. This is the curse that comes with being persistently cruel and spiteful.

If you are a kind and ppsitive person, you will repeatedly encounter kind and positive people, because as they grow familiar with you, they will be happier to have you near. This is the reward of being a kind and positive person.

When splitting paths with loved ones, briefly or forever, aim for your last words to always be "I love you".

[peaceandlove26]

fluttershy & trixie eating grilled cheese

[cowboygenes]

Explosive Triad Shenanigans

[dungeonmessy]

a request someoen had a while ago :3 laios cooking for kabru !!

[willowser]

31 year old soggy loser touya that can't drive or stay out after curfew and that was released from prison 7 months ago and has to keep his job at ace hardware and has to go to his meetings and is figuring out how to both apologize and forgive and is so far behind socially among his peers because of all he had to endure during his child/teenagehood my beloved

[cloudidoodles]

Layla

[spamsandsuch]

jesters i drew awhile back

[atlasisnothere]

one of the most wild things about rolling into the torchwood fandom a good fifteen years late is scrolling through the popular works on ao3 and seeing the sheer amount of hatred and vitriol that so many people held for gwen cooper. like??? fighting for my life here having to filter out multiple variations of the gwen bashing/anti-gwen-tag and even then some writers have such an unconscious dislike for the character that they'll slip nasty OOC characterisation in anyway. and it always seems to stem from this idea that she was 'stealing' jack's affections away from ianto but like. did these people not notice that the insane-straight-baiting-codependent-thing gwen and jack had going on was two-sided. did they miss the fact that literally every relationship in this show is toxic to at least some degree. some of these fics were rendered almost cartoonish in their going out of the way to point out how terrible and whiny they saw gwen to be. it all seems as yet another case in the epidemic of taking the woman perceived to be 'getting in the way' of a popular mlm ship and exaggerating or simply fabricating negative traits in order to justify shoving her to the wayside by proclaiming that she's a terrible person but. my god. gwen cooper my messy and flawed woman you will always be famous to me.

[pumpkin-mines]

Can you draw dirk strider eating a ice cream cookie?!? :O3

[lead0]

You are my favorite artist, your drawings are really a great inspiration for me when it comes to drawing, if you don't mind, could I ask for a bushmedicine? I think they would look very cute in your style

aaa thank you so much it really means a lot to me to hear that haha

i hope i did them justice :)

[vultures-and-scavengers]

there's so many ~rules~ around fancy dinners, the courses, the silver you use, names for foods you might never have heard, and i imagine its far worse in orlais, where everything is over the top and meant to be seen and judged.

and josephine and leliana can navigate that fine, and depending on the inquisitor (especially trevelyans), i imagine they can handle themselves.

which leaves the last member of the leadership quartet, who spent the first 13 years of his life eating rural ferelden fare and then spent the next 16-17 years likely eating in mess halls between duties.

and how do you then represent the inquisition in a world where you are the outsider and everything about the world you are stepping foot in is meant to keep you and other commoners out? when this world is the one that plays with the lives of commoners like toys?

[tonitheloftwing]

The grilled cheese btw

[bonchobrick]

(angst alert !! death + slight blood tw !!)

Tim is stuck in a sticky situation and has to call a certain 'spooky' friend for help.

Jason would probably call him a dumbass for trying to do something so stupid. Well, atleast thats what Tim thinks Jason would do, he isn't for sure though, he isn't certain.

Because Jason's laying on the ground with a flat pulse and he wont be giving him any answers anytime soon.

---

“Don' look so weird replacement, its just anoth’r day in gotham.” His brother slurs with the slight quirk of his lips

"Jason don't fucking do this to me!" Tim hisses tears cursing his eyes

And Jason, oh that bastard—bleeding out on the pavement and in Tim’s arms sends him his classic beaming Robin Smile. 

"Love ya' little bro take care of yo'rself, kay?" he says eyes fluttering

"Jay," Tim cries, "You dick."

For all the joy and hope and belief his smile conveyed for the first time in a long time—his red blood muddled what should’ve been such a nice sight. Tim held him on the pavement with someone yelling on the comm mic on the floor that he just can’t bother trying to pay attention to. 

The pavement is cold. The air is cold. His brother is cold. It’s all so cold tonight. 

All the younger boy does close his eyes and slowly, In. Out. In. Out.

He lets himself breathe for a minute. Lets the horror wash over him. Lets himself absorb what just happened,

Then he gets back to work. 

Like a switch his brain is back online running at a hundred miles an hour–what is the best scenario, what should I do when my brother's wrist is limp and his eyes are shut, what do I do if he’s dead again, what can i do, how can I Fix. This.

Thoughts cloud his mind, whirring around his head like layers and layers of messy documents has just been dumped on his desk and he’s shuffling through them panicked trying to find the right file because its somewhere here, there is something and he just needs to sort. it. out. And–

Then it all becomes clear. 

His desk is back to clean and stationary. All of the papers are gone back into neat piles in neat manila folders, stored away in tidy filing shelves–

Everything is gone aside from one little yellow sticky note in the center of the desk.

“Well, Jay?” Tim chuckles with a cracked voice, “Second times the charm right?”

In his mind, at the center of it all, on a yellow sticky note lies the words in green ink: ‘Contact The Ghost King.’

Slowly he shifts and with a loud grunt he lifts up Jason, “Up we go!”

“--im? Why do you have Red Hood’s Comm–Tim what happened! Tim!” the comm speaker plays faintly in the background of his head, “Tim! Whatever you’re thinking off doing, don’t!” someone Tim can’t think about hisses

Tim hums absentmindedly towards the mic, almost automatically, “Don’t worry Babs, I’ve got it covered.”

Walking away from the roof he thinks to himself, I wonder where Jason would wanna wake up? Perhaps his apartment? Yea, i think that would go well by him–let’s head to the apartment.  

And just like that Tim leaves a crime scene—shuffling away with a dead body over his shoulder and a plan.

“Jay,” Tim murmurs to the corpse on his shoulder, “You’re really gonna hate this, but i’m doing this for you anyways cause I love you. So dont be too hard on me when you wake up okay asshole?”

Tim stumbles off into the stairwell making his descent and sometime as he walks away Barbara faintly catches him on the comm saying

“-Your gonna love Danny and making your lame 'im a dead guy' jokes with him man .”

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

Had to do another 100 words challenge for @deadbranch but with The Roommate Series

Simon never thought this is where he’d be in his life. Truth be told, he thought he’d be happily alone in the old flat with his only friends being the men he worked with.

But here he was, cozied up in bed with a grilled cheese in front of him and you sitting next to him.

It was three in the morning but you got hungry and the smell of food made him hungry too. And you always made the best grilled cheese sandwiches.

“Fucking hell…” He whispered in awe to himself.

“Damn right.” You smugly ate yours as well.

[absolutelyzoned]

this is how the world would be if tumblr users could actually tag posts correctly