#I'm too tired for all this shit man. Too fuckign tired.

[crinj-central]

Not sorry for having retard symptoms. It will happen again btw.

[puffyducks]

DCRC Week #9 (Part 2)

Oh shit!! Is these ducks on the road??? YOU BET YOUR SWEET ASS THEY ARE!!! Anyways we're reading Ducks on the Road now which I'm super excited for because it features not one but THREE characters we've barely seen in the book club so far!!

This comic is LONG (I guess it's technically like 5 comics but we're reading them all in one go) so I'll probably end up having to extend this post with a few reblogs! So look out for those.

They're in.... VIRGINIA???? NOOOOOOOOOOO (person with irrational hatred of Virginia cause my whole extended family lives there so I have to travel there every holiday and it just kinda sucks there idk what to tell you. Also if Virginia is for lovers why is it called VIRGINia hm?? riddle me that BATMAN)

SCROOGE PAY YOUR FUCKING WORKERS also I love this outfit and haircut for Daisy she looks so cute here

Does this imply that Donald was living in Virginia beforehand because the implication that I'm only 1 state away from Donald is kind of frightening ngl. also Virginia sucks.

Did they hire Tuskerninni's cousin what's going on here. Actually this is the 70s it could probably BE Tuskerninni in an earlier life

I'm so used to talking about DT17 Gyro within my circles that I see Regular Gyro and it's like oh right!! He actually has joy and whimsy in his heart!! He's actually just a funny invention man who has totally not accidentally committed any atrocities in Tokyolk before!!!! He's also changed his hair color like four times

DON'T EAT THE GARBAGE SANDWICH WHAT ARE YOU DOOIIIIING

can somebody please help him he looks like an anxious chihuahua

How do you even leave piles of money on the floor to be blown away like that HELP I'm so stressed. Dickie get it together girl.

shoutout to these two and their cool accompanying text

HOW IS SHE SUCH A PUBLIC MENACE SHE'S LITERALLY JUST KINDA MID AT PLAYING GUITAR

She kissed him then IMMEDIATELY friendzoned him it was like a speedrun holy shit

Did he just headcanon Dickie and Daisy as lesbians? Because me too.

WHAT THE FUCK KIND OF QUESTION IS THAT AFTER AN EXAM WHY'D THEY DO HIM LIKE THAT 😭😭😭 nice presentation you LONELY IDIOT.

DICKIE YOU CAN'T PAINT A FUCKIGN RENTAL VAN OH MY GOD

Ah yes my favorite sign on the highway. The big one that just says "WEST"

YOU GUYS I AM SO STRESSED DICKIE IS GONNA GET THEM ALL KILLED IN A HORRIFIC ROAD ACCIDENT. ALSO HOW DID THEY ALREADY GET ALL THE WAY TO OKLAHOMA-

NVM THEY'RE NOT GONNA CRASH THEY'RE GONNA GET SHOT BY THIS GUY FOR HARBORING CRIMINALS

DAISY YOU CAN'T SAY THAT WORD. also i want these two guys dead they were mean to her >:(

GET A JOB STAY AWAY FROM HER

dork ass nerd and his dork ass math pajamas. and what I assume is a plush of Albert Einstein or something. NERD.

Oh ok so we're just not gonna acknowledge what they do about their tires being gone. Ok. No it's fine I guess that's like irrelevant information they probably just like... found some new tires on the side of the road or something..... yeah....

Anyways this is the part where I briefly end the post so I can attach more reactions with a reblog!

[zeltqz]

NO! DONT YOU BLAME YOURSELF!!! Let's all get all these mf men and deep fry them. Fr I'm tired of them, it's about time we raise the bar, THE BAR IS IN HELL AT THIS POINT!! Really enough blaming ourselves for their incapacity, if they are shit, then we have to let them know. I am aware most men will get violent if their precious masculinity gets hurt, but in cases when we are safe, we have to let them know. He didn't make you cum? You tell him? It didn't feel good? You tell him. He didn't find the clit and dry rubbed your left labia? You tell him!!!!! I'm tired or porn only being focused on dick dick dick, the man sticks it in you and boom pleasure. It doesn't work like that and they have no excuse for being ignorant and selfish . Ughhhhh!! Aftercare is so important!!! Why aren't they doing it whyyy. And if I hear one more pissy men saying that aftercare goes both ways then imma move his jaw 180°. Most of the times the guy just pushes you away if you try something or straight up tells you to get dressed wtf.

That goes for everything not just sex . The bar is in hell. No more preaching men for doing the bare fucking minimum, no more blaming ourself for not being " good enough" . He makes you cum? As he should. He does aftercare? As he should? He cleans and cooks? As he should? He brings yoh flowers? As he should? He is a decent human being? As he should!!!!

Ughh I swear these men make me want to rip my hair out.

Anyway I'm sorry your first time was bad bby! I hope you can find someone that deserves you and never never blame yourself again! It was his fault for being an ass and ignorant period.

Lova ya <3

NO REALLY IM SO SICK OF MEN LIKE1"?£!?"£ I DONT EVEN WANNA DATE ONE unless his name is haitani ran then no thanks i dont want you

but on a serious note men are so toxic nowadays like its fuckign SCARY and looking back at my younger self im disappointed because now i have a mouth on me and if i was in that situation back then i would tell him that i wasnt satisfied

but back then i didnt i was so introverted, still am but less introverted, so i didnt know how to communicate with him like that

PLUS i barely even knew him like i honestly forgot how i even met the dude i think it was at a party or a get together between mutual friends i cant remember

and the bar? omg the other day i saw a tiktok right of this girl saying how shocked she was when her boyfriend backed off her when she said she didnt want to have sex

and the girls in the comments were like "WHAT A KING"

LIKE WHAT"?£" THATS THE BARE FUCKIGN MINUUMMSDFHSDJ LIKE?!"? WHY R U PRAISING HIM FOR DOING WHAT SHOULD BE NORMAL? it just goes to show how men are just fucking things up for themselves that even the barest of the barest minimum is seen as rare

AND I LOVE U TOO ANON <333333

[teddybeartoji]

ARI. ARI. ARI. ARI. YOU. CANNOT. KEEP. GETTING. AWAY. WITH. IT.

i'm sorry i keep writing you like book length notes but this is my love letter to u ok i have a lot to give you you have my heart

I LOVE SATORU AND HOW EXCITED AND GIDDY HE IS FUUUCK it's so contagious i think i'd get smile lines at the ripe age of 22 if i were to ever spend a day with him

omfg the way sugu tries to coax you back to sleep:(((((( he can be such a grump i adore him so much

the way satoru and you get excited together WAAAAAAAA

"there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more. like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you." i'm not crying YOU ARE

kicking his plushie of the bed and then blaming sugu for it - 10000% a satoru thing to do you're so right

(poor tired sugu though lmao imagine living with two hyper people)

THE SNOWBALL FIGHT IS SO FUCKIGN CUTE I CAN'T FUCKING THINK STRAIGHT ANYMORE WHAT DO YOU MEAN THEY'RE THE MOST ADORABLE PEOPLE IN THE WORLD THE AMOUNT OF LOVE I HAVE FOR SNOWBALL DUELS IS INFINITE OK IT'S ENDLESS IT'S ALWAYS JUST THE FUCK I DON'T HAVE THE WORDS IT'S THE SMILES IT'S THE LAUGHTER IT'S THE RED CHEEKS IT'S THE WARM EXHALES IT'S THE RUNNY NOSES IT'S THE COLD FINGERS IT'S THE OH NO WE'RE NOW BOTH IN THE SNOW LAYING ON TOP OF EACH OTHER OH NO OUR NOSES ARE TOUCHING WE ARE IN LOVE

"suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips." ARIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIII WHAT ARE YOU DOING TO ME

"you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows." i am in love with him IN LOVE I LIVE THERE

"because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics but still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. what more could a man want?" I LIVE THERE I REPEAT I LIVE THERE IT'S MY HOME

an intermission to tell u that i am in fact reading this with a big ass smile on my face

"(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)" this is getting really ridiculous now ari are you ready for my funeral

SUGU WARMING YOUR HANDS IN AN INSTANT BUT NOT SATORU'S AND THEN HIM BEING ALL HUFFY AND PUFFY EEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEE I'M GIGGLING HE'S SO SILLY

”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.” PLEAAAASEE i want him so badly it's not okay

"a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks." satoru is incredibly observant canon canon canon

i wanna wear sugu's sweaters are you kidding that sounds so comfy

CAT FOOD THEY HAVE A CAT I REPEAT THEY HAVE A CAT CANON SATOSUGU CAT PEOPLE CANON HOLY SHIT

omfg suguru kissing satoru's forehead mickey found dead in a ditch send help

ok that was a juke bc "satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”" I'M DEFINITELY DEAD NOW

THEIR DYNAMIC IS SOOOOOOOOOOOOOO SICK sick in the best possible way like it's so sweet it's almost too sweet but it's PERFECT

oh...... oH.... suguru tucking satoru's hair behind his ear..............

"suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words." my sweet sweet boy

"(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)" satoru knows what's good

HIM ASKING SUGU TO SIT ON HIS LAP ABHSAKSAJSAHS

ari you're so funny i love the dialogue so much i just keep writing them down here as if you weren't the one writing the words BUT I NEED TO REPEAT THEM AS TO MEMORIZE THEM FOREVER OK

like ”… santa can only do so much, baby.” ..................... i love u

you sitting on satoru's lap and the kitty sitting on sugu's lap:((((((

"pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow." dreamy sigh big big dreamy sigh

"warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter." ari so um- do you by any chance know your ring finger size? why am i asking? oh, no need to worry your pretty little head about it you just let me know, okay?

"again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest." love is all i know in this very moment

THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR THIS!!!!! i can't say it enough - i love everything you write!! this one especially just warmed my heart, made me feel so cozy in this cold winter time. i hope one day i get to experience something as sweet as this; i have tears of genuine happiness in my eyes ari you deserve everything in the world<33

i'm writing down some songs that i was listening to while reading this - mexican dream by piero piccioni, pantyhose by tv girl, my kind of woman by mac demarco and of course, my love mine all mine by mitski

come rest your bones next to me ; satoru gojo, suguru geto

synopsis; satoru shares the first snowfall of the year with the two people he loves most. 

word count; 4.6k

contents; satoru gojo/reader/suguru geto (poly relationship!!), gn!reader, you're all whipped, reader referred to as spouse, fluff fluff fluff!!, sickeningly domestic, just comfy vibes all around, mostly from satoru’s pov, suguru has a favorite (its you) (but also not really he just likes bullying toru <3), satoru gojo may or may not have unresolved mommy issues

a/n; happy satosugu holidays to those who celebrate <33 geto died today isnt that crazy. dont u think its fucked up how love figuratively and literally killed him. anyway! help urself to two very whipped husbands <33 (not really proofread at all but ill clean it up tmrw!! :’3)

”holy shit!”

the raspy tilt of satoru’s voice echoes throughout the bedroom, stirring you from your comfortable slumber. a soft groan spills from suguru’s lips, deep and husky, as he pulls you closer into his embrace — smoothing a warm palm down the back of your head. trying to soothe you back to sleep, muttering under his breath.

”satoru, it’s too early for this...”

”it’s snowing!” said man continues, unperturbed. unmistakably giddy. he’s standing by the window, hands pressed flush against the cold glass; entirely entranced by the sight in front of his cerulean eyes. 

following his exclamation, your eyelids begin to flutter. a tiny tug of your subconscious, a pang of something excited flowing through your veins, an alert to your sleepy brain. with groggy movements, you wriggle out of suguru’s grasp — a displeased grumble leaves his throat, almost a whine — allowing you to scramble out of bed.

”really?” you chirp, rubbing the sleep from beneath your eyes. a raspy, meek little voice spilling into the air.

satoru grins, watching you move closer, watching as a tiny gasp pushes past your lips. watching as your droopy eyes widen — brightening, glittering, starlight and snowflakes painted on the interior of your iris. a breathtaking sight, he thinks. 

maybe even more breathtaking than the winter wonderland reflected in it; beyond the pure opaque frosting of the window’s glass, out into your backyard, buried beneath a thick layer of snow. soft and fluffy, covering the city, the bare branches of your apricot tree, suguru’s long-frozen tulip garden, every roof in sight. all of it dyed a pure white, glittering in the light of a morning sun yet to fully rise, tiny snowflakes descending down to earth. 

it’s beautiful. 

satoru loves winter. he always has, he thinks. it comes to him as a memory — blurred at the edges, gleaming even still, the first time he saw those snowflakes up close.

someone held him in their arms, he recalls. a warmth long faded. all he can properly remember is that sight; one that knocked the breath out his tiny lungs, all glitter and something almost otherworldly, something frightening in its majesty. like it broke through a raft in the stratosphere. 

the first snow of the year.

and he’s loved it ever since; the soft crunch of snow beneath his feet, an air heavy with the scent of cinnamon and candied apples, bouts of laughter to be heard from faraway apartments. red and green glimmers of artificial light, sweet frosting on the christmas cake he would always gobble up alone in his room. the cold wind, nipping at his bare fingers — a reminder of his capacity for ache.

there are lots of things to love. lots of memories to cherish. and every single year, he gets the chance to make more.

like this; the light in your eyes, the smile on your face, the excitement in how hurriedly you turn to meet his giddy gaze. a nostalgic kind of joy simmering in the space between you.

and before either of you know it, satoru’s pulling you towards the hallway, intent on dragging you outside to see it all up close. almost tripping over his agumon plush, lying unassumingly on the floor, kicked off the bed once again. 

(probably by satoru himself, though he’ll always insist it was suguru’s doing. overcome by his jealousy, unable to stand the sight of his cute husband cuddling up to a plushie instead of him. satoru understands, he does — he feels the same when he sees you hug that 3’0 cat plushie of yours.

and, sure, maybe once or twice he’s been lucid enough to register the subconscious kick of his leg and agumon’s subsequent fall to the floor — but he’ll still blame suguru in the morning. if only to see the way said man rolls his eyes, clicks his tongue, maybe flicks his forehead if he’s lucky.)

high on the spirit of christmas, spurred on by childlike elation and sleep-deprivation, you stumble towards the door. satoru pulls one of his jackets over your shoulders, delighting in the way your hands don’t fully reach through the sleeves. wrapping you up in a cozy scarf when suguru shouts at you both to dress warmly, barely awake and already tired of your antics.

and the moment you step through the door, satoru is engulfed by it. that mystical, mystical feeling. 

a little lonely, a little too satisfying to pass up. a cold breeze that nips at his fingertips, snowflakes that brush against his cheeks and stick to his white lashes. a warm hand in his, as you cling to his side, shuddering — but smiling, as you look up at the sky, putting a hand out just to feel the snowflakes melt against the skin of your palm.

he feels you let go of him, but doesn’t mention it. a little too mesmerized to tug you back. dipping his toes into the bittersweet nostalgia of it all, staring at the flurry of white all around you, the skeletal branches of your apricot tree, suguru’s poor tulips. humming a jolly tune, subconsciously. a little delighted.

— until something cold and wet hits the exposed skin of his neck.

satoru twitches, a chilling shudder trickling down his spine. the snowball just thrown at him begins to melt, droplets sticking to his nape, and he turns to you with a raise of his brow. a devilish grin on his lips, when he hears your muffled laughter, sees the crinkle of your eyes.

(you’re cute, he thinks. but you need to be humbled.)

”oh, so that’s how you wanna play?” he drawls, eyes gleaming with amusement. taking a step forward, reaching down to gather some snow in his palm. a wide grin on his glossy lips. ”fine by me.” 

he's fast, but you act quickly, running towards the apricot tree with laughter in your throat. feeling the pitter patter of your heartbeat resound in your ears, as the snowball misses its mark by just a hair — and you waste no time in making your own.

it’s a hard-fought duel. snowfall blocking your vision, nerves beginning to numb, red cheeks and runny noses as you chase each other with giddy breaths. unfortunately for you, satoru’s arms are unfairly long, fingers unfairly nimble, and his stamina never even seems to falter.

so before long, your energy begins to dwindle. chest heaving, hands too cold to form a proper snowball, while your husband seems like he hasn’t even broken a sweat. they just keep on coming, snowball after snowball colliding with the fabric of your jacket, and when one of them hits your collarbone you squeal — falling backwards, right into a fresh pile of snow.

satoru moves forward, a triumphant smirk on his handsome face. you’re out of breath, and your hands are red, and he’s fairly certain you’re gonna catch a cold. suguru’s going to scold him, but right now all he can think of is you. the frown you’re wearing, the little huff that slips from your lips.

”ready to admit defeat, sweetheart?” he practically purrs, standing above you with his hands on his hips. smug. and you grin right back.

”never.”

a hum. something glimmers in his eyes, a devious little glint, and you come to regret your decision when satoru gathers a heap of snow with his overgrown arms — only to drop it all on top of you. too tired to fight back, all you can do is shield your face, silently accepting your fate.

a shiver wracks through your body, and satoru almost feels bad. just a tiny bit. but then you finally relent, murmuring bitterly under your breath. ”fine, fine…” a soft pout forms on your lips. ”you win.”

and satoru smiles. crouching down to meet you at eye level, on his knees in front of you. there’s a teasing mirth in his eyes, when he reaches out to cup the fat of your cheek. ”that’s all i wanted to hear, sweet pea,” he drawls, trying not to giggle when you exaggeratedly roll your eyes.

his voice curls down an octave when he continues, leaning forward to brush his nose against yours. hot breath against your chilled skin. ”now, for my prize…”

his lips meet yours, sweet and chaste — a little cheeky. you scoff into the kiss, but satoru’s smile only grows. honeyed, a little bit adoring. his tongue flits out to lick at your cold bottom lip.

he lingers, for a bit. like he’s trying to savour the way you taste, faded strawberry chapstick sticking to his lips, smudged against your own. and you sigh, softly, melting a little, comforted by the fleeting warmth that blossoms on your face. 

when he's finally satisfied, having dragged his prize out to its completion, satoru helps you up. brushing snowflakes off your jacket, cradling your ice-cold hands in his. his aren't faring much better, but a worried tug of his heartstrings compels him to warm you up. bringing them to his lips, hot breath fanning over your skin, tender little kisses against the knots of your knuckles. you can’t help but blush, and a raspy chuckle flows from out his lips. 

hazy morning sunshine licks at the branches of the apricot tree behind you, illuminating the contours of your face, the shine of his eyes. a blue smudge on a canvas painted white and gray. the air smells of pine cones and something smokey, crisp. it courses through his burning lungs when he inhales, exhales, a breath of vapour that scatters up into the sky.

satoru loves winter. always has. but now, he’s certain he loves it even more.

because now, he has two people to share it with. two people to drag out into the snow, two people whose hands he can tenderly warm up, two people who’ll laugh and sigh at his antics but still indulge him. two people to pelt with snowballs. 

what more could a man want?

”hey, idiots!” 

the voice that echoes throughout the air is exasperated, a little teasing. yet fond. suguru’s got his hair tied into a messy half done bun, a black turtleneck sweater enunciating his broad chest and the curve of his waist. there’s a fatigue in his eyes, the creases of his face, but a lazy smile is playing at his lips.

”i’m making breakfast,” he shouts, voice deep and smokey and soft even still. ”come in and warm up before you catch a cold.”

”is that any way to speak to your husband and spouse?” satoru chimes back, a melodic lilt to his sugarsweet voice. something satisfied. pleased.

suguru shoots him an unimpressed look, but his eyes soften. melting a little, at the words that spill from satoru’s lips, as if they were always meant to be there. 

(husband. spouse. suguru wills himself not to smile.)

with matching grins on your faces, the two of you stumble back towards the door. snow crunching beneath your feet, a happy noise pushing past your lips when you collide with the warmth of your husband’s chest.

”look, suguru. isn’t it pretty?” you chirp, smiling brightly. an expression he mirrors — brushing some snow from the top of your head, warm palms caressing your cold skin, setting a mental reminder to scold satoru later. sparing a brief glance at the snowy veil over reality.

then he exhales. a fond hum. ”it is.”

satoru joins you both by the door, stretching out his lanky limbs. tousled hair, wet strands sticking to his skin, reddened cheeks and a signature pout. ”suguru, my hands are cold,” he whines. ”warm ’em up for me?”

a click of his tongue. ”should’ve put some gloves on, satoru.”

a hum buzzes in your throat, and you put your hands out. itchy, a little dry. a sad frown tugs at your lips when you speak. ”my hands are also cold.”

and, like clockwork, suguru’s eyes soften. a coo tiptoeing on his tongue, engulfing your hands in his larger ones. ”aw, c’mere, my love…” his breath fans over your frozen fingertips. ”let’s get you warmed up, hm?”

satoru gasps, a hand on his chest, and you stifle a giggle. he’s acting, you both know, being a little drama queen. he knows you’re just exaggerating suguru’s double standard as a bit, that your husband would probably set himself on fire to warm either of you up.

despite that, his voice comes out thoroughly offended. ”oh, i see how it is,” he huffs, walking past the both of you. pouting deeply. ”you hate me. you hate me, and you want me to die. i understand.”

”satoru,” you coo. he hmphs, but stills, waiting for you to wrap your arms around him. and you do — a little too eager to appease your giant baby of a husband.

”we’re just joking around,” you assure him, holding back a humorous chuckle. squeezing his waist fondly. ”love you sooo much. you know that.”

satoru stays silent. but he cranes his neck, to meet suguru’s gaze, standing just behind him. narrowing his eyes — a meaningful gaze. suguru sighs.

”yes, yes. we love you oh so much.” he takes a step forward, ruffling the white head of hair by the door. a lazy smile on his lips. ”now behave and go change out of your pyjamas. they’re soaked.”

his voice is teasing. exasperated, more than a little condescending. but it’s suguru, so satoru accepts it — following you both into the warmth of your home. the scent of cinnamon and vanilla hangs heavy in the air, a hint of espresso and firewood, lulling him into a sweet state of tranquility. rich with comfort, safety.

he changes out of his wet clothes, pulling a black hoodie over his head before waltzing into the kitchen. and you do the same, emerging from your bedroom in one of suguru’s cozy sweaters, knitted and smelling of bergamot. 

when suguru notices, his gaze shifts into something fond. palpable. a look satoru always finds in the scope of those warm eyes, amber and cedar bleeding into something sweet, only ever directed at the two of you. a look said man assumes goes unnoticed. he’s not as slick as he thinks.

the kitchen simmers with hazy sunlight and gentle movements, something sleepy and kind. satoru is a little bit enamored with it; from bowls of cat food by the corner, to camellias by the windowsill, cookie jars and dried lemon slices, the fading scent of baked goods and wishlists stuck to the fridge.

(yours and satoru’s are filled with scribbles, new ideas popping up daily, while suguru’s is almost entirely blank; mostly necessities, one or two things he’d like for himself.

and then, of course, the same thing he writes at the top of his wishlist every year; some peace and quiet.)

suguru shuffles around the kitchen, long strands of black hair cascading down his back, swaying with his movements. he sends you both an affectionate glance when you step in, already in the process of making satoru his cup of hot chocolate — topped with marshmallows and whipped cream, colorful sprinkles in the shape of tiny stars, a touch of cinnamon. satoru licks his lips.

when it's finished, the cup is promptly handed to him, paired with a tender kiss to his forehead. and suguru starts the meticulous brewing of your coffee, steady hands, finely chosen coffee beans, the low purring of the espresso machine. soothing.

that’s when you attach yourself to his back. wrapping your arms around his waist, a sleepy yawn muffled into the fabric of his turtleneck. he places a big palm on your hand, thumb smoothing over your knuckle, and you nuzzle into him silently.

”still sleepy, baby?” he questions, a coo on the tip of his tongue.

satoru senses an opportunity to insert himself into the conversation, and forces out a yawn of his own. stretching his limbs like a big cat, blinking drowsily, eyelashes fluttering. hoping it’ll come off as endearing. ”mhm.” 

but suguru shoots him an unimpressed look. ”not you,” he tuts, patting your arm, ”this baby. i wasn’t asking you.”

a pout. ”why are you so mean to me?” he whines, shooting you a doe-eyed look. bottom lip jutting out slightly, a feigned glassiness to his eyes. ”sweetie, tell your husband to stop being so mean to me.”

you smile. indulgent, as always. ”don't be so mean to him, suguru. you know he’s sensitive.”

a sigh. deep, tinged with exhaustion. satoru shares an amused look with you — stifling a shared chuckle at suguru’s exasperation.

and suddenly, he feels something warm flutter in his ribcage. a sunkissed butterfly, wings brushing against his ribs, coaxing his lips into curling up. unmistakable fondness, almost too much to bear. the need to reach out and touch you creeps up on him, a hunger he can’t deny, but he holds back; you look comfy like that, curled up against suguru’s back. so he only inches closer, without a word. 

his husband casts him a glance, but satoru stays silent. lips pursed, waiting for something. patient.

and suguru relents. he reaches a hand out, to tuck a stray strand of white hair behind his ear — an excuse to touch him. a silent apology. 

(i'm sorry, you big baby.)

satoru grins.

you shift from foot to foot, leaning over to see what suguru is doing, pressing buttons and taking two ceramic cups out from a wall cabinet. your eyes zero in on a particular shelf, narrowing in suspicion, before flitting over to meet your husband’s gaze.

”satoru, did you use up all my peppermint sweeteners again?”

he stiffens. just a tad, before swallowing a gulp — followed by a silly chuckle, sheepish and performative, eager to wiggle his way out of your cold gaze. ”… which sweeteners do you mean, honey?”

”don’t pull the ’honey’ card.”

”and don’t play dumb, either.”

a pout crosses his lips. betrayed. ”suguru, who’s side are you even on?”

said man gives him a look. that one look, characteristically suguru, the same one he always sends satoru’s way. one so thoroughly unimpressed it makes him feel like the world’s biggest clown. 

and satoru plays along. your dutiful, beloved clown, his posture wilting like a sad flower. suguru exhales through his nose.

”don’t steal their sweeteners.” he smooths a thumb over your knuckle, absentminded, meeting the cold metal of the ring on your finger. smiling a little at the sensation. ”buy your own.”

satoru huffs, drawn out and childish. crossing his arms, leaning against the kitchen counter. ”ah, i see how it is. leaving your sweet husband to buy his own sweeteners?” he clicks his tongue. ”chivalry is dead.”

you bite back a little chuckle — satoru recognizes the cute noise you make when you do — and suguru rolls his eyes. fondly, always. ”remind me next time i go to the store and i’ll consider it.”

”hmph.”

suguru is smiling. it’s small, but genuine, worth a thousand words. and you are, too, the vague crinkle of your eyes giving you away. even as you bury your face in the curve of suguru’s back.

and ah, satoru thinks. there it is again. 

that sickeningly sweet sense of deja vu, the sensation of a certain something flourishing inside his chest. warming him up, trickling through his frost-bitten veins. that one little itch he never manages to satisfy, that never goes away, something that took root inside his heart years ago — watered by the sweet looks on your faces.

the everyday slice of heaven, right in front of him, that he’s been greedily partaking in ever since he moved in with you. since he married you.

(married.)

sometimes he still can’t believe it. 

”it’ll be done in a minute,” suguru hums, and satoru blinks. broken out of his syrupy stupor. ”you two go wait by the kotatsu, okay? must be cold, poor babies.” 

and, as always, his voice is a little teasing. a tiny bit condescending, if you really strain your ears, in typical suguru fashion. but it’s laced with a touch of sweetness; one that would be too much for either of you to stomach, if it were to drip out of his lips with nothing to water it down. so satoru accepts it. welcomes it, even.

and you follow his suggestion. making your way towards the living room, satoru trailing behind you, continuously enamored by every little thing he sees. every little piece of the home you’ve built for yourselves.

your living room is cozy. several potted plants seated here and there, a thick quilt to cover the kotatsu, a bowl of satsumas on top of it. a sleepy cat on your couch, golden sunshine ruffling her fur. a santa hat lies beside her, and satoru snags it without much thought. pulling it over his head.

his gaze shifts to the christmas tree over in the corner, eyes filling with a childlike kind of wonder. it’s decorated to completion, weighed down by colourful ornaments and lights, a star at the very top. suguru cut it himself, bringing the biggest and prettiest one he could find back home.

(satoru had gone with him. partially to help carry it back, mostly to get a glimpse of suguru's biceps flexing with the swing of the axe. he’s a simple man.)

and beneath it, presents are already beginning to pile up. carefully wrapped, in bows and silken paper, growing more each day. shattering suguru’s hopes of maybe having a more lowkey christmas this year — but satoru couldn’t be more relieved. this is the only time of year you let him get away with pampering you both to his heart’s content.

a smile blooms on his lips. he plops down on the floor, crossing his legs, right as suguru walks in with a coffee pot in hand. their gazes overlapping.

and something mischievous begins to brew within the blue of his eyes, something that makes suguru narrow his own. satoru pats his thigh, twice, a coo on the tip of his tongue. santa hat sitting pointedly on top of his head, fluffing up his hair.

”c’mere, suguru! sit on santa’s lap.”

”— you’re disgusting.”

the words are playful, but a pout still slips into the curve of satoru’s lips, and he huffs out a displeased little breath. his husband pretends not to hear it, so satoru turns to you — sitting so prettily to his right, already anticipating his next move. puppy dog eyes on full display, he gives you a soft tilt of his head, snowy tufts of hair falling over his eyes.

and you sigh, in what he knows is resignation. his faux pout turning into a satisfied grin.

you curl up in satoru’s lap without much of a fuss, letting him circle his arms around you. an indulgent smile rests on your lips, but he knows you love this; his broad chest against your back, the heat of the kotatsu warming your feet. breathing in the fading scent of your shampoo, he leaves a peck on the sensitive spot right behind your ear, and you try not to shudder.

then satoru smiles. squeezing you, lightly, sweetly, eyes rich with honeyed affection. voice dripping with playful endearment. ”there we go,” he coos. ”what does my angel want for christmas, hm?” 

”i want you to stop stealing my peppermint sweeteners,” comes your answer. instantaneous.

silence fills the room. a moment passes. outside your frosted windows, a bird takes flight from the branches of your apricot tree. and satoru clicks his tongue.

”… santa can only do so much, baby.”

two deep scoffs fill the air, heavy and bemused. one from you, one from suguru. satoru only giggles.

”just kidding!” he chirps, planting a kiss on the top of your head. ”don’t you worry. santa’ll give you all the peppermint sweeteners you could ever want.” 

you raise a brow, exhaling amusedly. craning your head to meet his gaze. ”and he won’t end up using them all himself?”

”of course not! blasphemy.” 

a moment passes.

”… maybe one or two. as a treat.”

a string of protests slips from your lips, and satoru tries not to burst into a fit of giggles. suguru just watches, silently, smiling lightly as he pours hot coffee into two ceramic cups. steam wafting up to the ceiling, a cat jumping down from the couch to curl up in his lap. he places one in front of you, not taking a single sip of his own until he hears you hum blissfully at the taste — pink lips against white ceramic. a bitter taste on his tongue, sweetened by your approval.

then he starts peeling three satsumas, absentmindedly, and satoru swallows down the love-ridden honey choking up the back of his throat. pretending the domesticity of such a simple action doesn’t melt his heart down to the marrow. 

he turns his attention towards the window. frost sticking to the glass like spider-woven webs, soon to be melted by the glow of the mellow winter sunrays. flitting in through the translucent curtains, cascading over the room, splattering across the floorboards. framing the hue of your hair, the smile on suguru’s lips.

and a memory comes to him. sudden, hazy, faded at the edges. ghosting his subconscious. eerie, in a way.

he remembers the frost, the biting wind, the frightening majesty of the snow that fell that day. breaking into his world through a rift in the stratosphere. he remembers the contrasting warmth of the person who held him, who cradled him close; the soft lull of a woman’s voice. 

for a moment, satoru thinks he can almost, almost see it before him. hear those gentle words, see her tired smile. why was she always so tired?

(look, satoru. isn’t it pretty?)

— he can’t recall how it sounded. if it was melodic and soft, or raspy and broken, happy or sad. but he does recall that it made him feel safe. safe enough to find comfort in a sight so other-worldly, so very foreign.

it should’ve been frightening, but it wasn’t. the first snowfall satoru ever saw knocked the breath from out his lungs, stole his heart with cold hands, left him with a suffocating nostalgia. but the memory is precious.

and now, he feels that sense of other-worldliness in this; a kotatsu for three, a warm house, peeled satsumas and promises of a christmas cake soon to be baked. one lovely spouse in his lap, the other gazing at him with that fond look he always assumes goes unnoticed. a cocoon of safety — a ghost he doesn’t need to chase anymore.

warmth. enough warmth to make up for the snow and frost outside your home, all the experiences he missed out on as a child. warmth, warmth, warmth. funny, how that happens to be satoru’s favorite thing about winter. 

he looks at the two of you, hoping you won’t pay any mind to his silence. for once, he hopes you’ll stay wrapped up in your awful, awful coffee, so bitter that just looking at it makes his throat feel dry. just so he can get away with admiring you for a little longer. from the contours of suguru’s face, to the skin of your collarbone, to the rings on your fingers. ones he put there himself. 

and ah, satoru thinks, there it is again. again and again, as always, forever. that warm, warm feeling flourishing in the depths of his chest. 

he hopes it never goes away.

[mcsketchys]

Meltdown below

Man , i an fucking tired. Like, i feel just awful. I can't do ANYTHING right.

I have ten whole ass years of art on my back and 9, almost 10 now, of working and what is this experience for? fucking nothing. Nothing, doesn't matter.

In the comic cons and other events i try and talk to all professionals but i am just, like, at this point, BEGGING to get a job and all i get? Oh lord that pisses me off; "Your work is amazing! How are you not working yet" like WHY DO YOU THINK JUST FUCKIGN HIRE ME

and really, it doesn't even matter anymore. I wanted to do concept art, card games, illustrations, book covers and now we have just AI. Like, all i've built. For nothing. Doesn't matter, i am completely and fully worthless. FULLY WORTHLESS.

Because of depression, i wasn't able to finish college. I can still get in college anytime i wish, i am average and for art, i exceed on art tests so i can get in, but i can't ever finish.

And because i don't have a diploma of any sorts, i can't get a job and also can't immigrate. I am TOO DUMB to immigrate, i can't. Doesn't matter how good my english is how how much i've worked and how much i am good on my field. Doesn't matter either. I have a relationship that i am nothing but a heavy weight on it because i am the only one stuck in a hellhole of a country. And i can't leave unless someone marries me legally.

Feels like shit, i tell you that. To be the one stuck into this hellpit.

And on top of all of that, i am getting fat. Like, yeah, say fat is beauty and all, i have a crush on all big woman and man but i feel like a clown myself.

I feel ugly as hell, like an ucle that has those beer belly? I just feel horrid. I don't want to see myself anywhere. I don't fit on any of the clothes i've got myself THIS YEAR. THIS YEAR. they don't fit anymore.

My legs keep getting swollen and i'm getting some circulation issue. i just feel like i shouldn't be here anymore, i don't have purpose or anything.

I haven't been this suicidal in a while. I really don't want to be here. I am a failure as an artist, as a partner, as a person. The only thing keeping my head in place is doing commissions because that's the only thing that defines me as a human nowdays. I am this machine and this is the only good thing i do, the thing people... Like me or something.

I just really don't want to be here, i want to just let go people be happy without me being here to be a burden, i want to swing a morningstar to their faces so they'll be mad at me and never speak to me again.

Something something pat onmy shoulder on the end. Sorry.

[johnlockdynamic]

I'm just so fuckign tired. apparently professor hector accused him of moving past me real quick and back to being a slut already re: new chinese girl, and he's mad cause he thinks professor hector should keep my name out of his mouth when prof. knows how much I mean to him. but like. to me it sounds like prof. hector was just looking out for me cause that's how it fucking looks when you start posting fucking heart handed photos with some other 23 year old chinese girl you work out with exactly one month after a breakup! and i'm like why the fuck did you think that was ok and he's like he doesn't even remember taking the photo because it means so little and he doesn't think of her that way at all and we're so incomparable. that she's just a gym buddy. well guess what asshole that's what you said about us too. and that they don't even hang out outside of that and that she tried to introduce him to some of her friends but he said no.

and also he's insulted on chinese girl's behalf because she has a bf or whatever, and textin gher and worried about her cause she hasn't been to the gym in a week and he's worried. and that he still has lunch with eating disorder chinese girl. and he's like i'll stop talking to them if I tell him to. but i don't have a right to ask that obviously cause we're not together and I just want to move on.

I hate that he always says what I want to hear. That I broke him, that he's so emotionally unavailable and can't even look at anyone and think that they're cute without feelin gguilty, that nobody thinks i'm just another l*** girl, that nobody comes close to comparing and that he's guilty and ashamed every day and never stops missing me, that he's still in love with me and can't let go. that Felipe thinks he's a dumbass for not pursuing long distance and that yeah he's been with a lot of girls (like the massive fucking slut this man is) but that he admitted to Felipe that I'm the girl he would want to marry. That he told his advisor about how much he misses me and he took the gym off and almost took a sick day too after I ghosted his calls last week. That he's never loved anyone as much as he's loved himself (which Y I K E S) but he loves me.

but also that fucking NYC chinese girl gave him a seizure before we met which is new fucking information to me! the girl that called him to accuse him of leaving her on read during our 5th breakup. the girl he was fucking emotionally supporting the entire time we were together and even if I believe him when he says he only loved me it's like well then why were you leading her aon why were you even in contact why were you leading her to believe that you would invite her over to your place for graduation when you got out of my fucking bed that morning. and then he apologized again. but it's like no matter what he fucking says i don't see a future where this behavior fucking changes.

that he was just treating me like that to protect me, that he put me on a pedestal and didn't want anyone to know about me so that they couldn't hurt us. that he and other chinese girl that was in love with him and cheated on her bf with him is now only former best friend and now she just talks shit about all the girls he's dated behind his back. but that she can't talk (as much) shit about me because she didn't know anything about me. and that he's sorry for being such a shitty boyfriend and that he doesn't think he has a right to even ask why I added all those songs and that if we did it again it'd be different.

it's like how could you fucking have the emotional bandwidth to be NYC chinese girl's fucking emotional support for months on end but not fucking see how much you were hurting me. i don't think he really loved me at all i think he just loved that i'm a self sacrificing insane person with a martyr complex that makes me able to make myself into whatever he needed me to be.

if we have to spend the next birthday the day we spent your last, if that's what the good times look like, then i don't want them. and he said that he compltely agrees. i said i don't see a future with him cause we want different things from life, that i want kids and marriage and building a home together. but he doesn't. and he said that he doesn't want kids but that he'd give into marriage eventually. and i said i'm not something to fucking give in to. and he said that he doesn't mean it that way, that he means that i'm worth it. but i'm so fucking tired and tired and tired of false promises. what did he ever do to desrve my love, what makes him think he's worth investing in. at most i'll call him again in december to tell him i'm ripping his photo up for breaking his fucking promises.

[glimnner]

I'm not sure do you still take prompts. But if yes, 5,klance please? Thannks!!

5. “Wait a minute. Are you jealous?”

Keith knows from past experience, primarily that one time in 6th grade the cutest girl in class asked him out to the halloween dance and tried to make him into a bunny and her the dog, that dances fucking suck. 

“C’mon, Keith,” they said. “It’ll be fun,” they said.

And yet, there Keith Kogane was, the red-to-black and back to red paladin stands, in all his Paladinian Glory, in some grimy corner of the room watching Lance McClain, the true savior of the universe, dancing and laughing it up with someone that isn’t him.

Yeah, dances fucking suck.

Especially when you’d planned on re-confessing to the guy you like and you’re stuck in some slimy corner with girls who don’t know what “no thanks” or “not interested” and “i’m fuckign gay” means while the love of your life is dancing with someone he’s barely even met.

“We’ve known Kainic for awhile now, Keith.”

Dances also tend to especially suck when you don’t know how to shut the fuck up. “I don’t care,” Keith argues. “We knew Kainic when he wasn’t trying to get all over Lance.”

“Wait a minute. Are you jealous?” his brother asks, a devious grin cheshire-ing it’s way onto his scarred face. “Is my little brother, Keith Kogane, the man of never liking anyone, only ever being liked, jealous?”

The paladin gives a glare so hot the pits of hell would quiver in fear. His growl only fuels Takashi’s laughter.

“You’re jealous of Kainic,” he laughs. “That’s why you’ve been a sourpuss for the last hour.”

“Shut up,” he grinds out.

“Oh, I’m sorry, Mr. Grumpypants, did I upset you? Is your little impulse control on vacation?” After his younger brother realses a sigh from his nose, his evil grin turns to a soft smile and an arm around Keith’s shoulder. “C’mon, Keith. The Galra Empire’s been defeated to hell. You were doing just fine early, you’re gonna let Lance dancing get you down? You’da thunk you’d be ecstatic to see Lance dancing.”

“I am!” Keith refutes. He swirls a newly-found cup of nunvil in his cup. “Just…I was hoping to speak to him, ya know? I said some stuff on the battlefield while Allura was destroying Zarkon and Honerva and we were with Lotor. I never got a reaction from him and now he hates to even meet my eyes.”

A curious eyebrow is raised. “What’d you say to him?”

The younger paladin looks away, shy and confused and determined to not say a word before he heard one from Lance.

Shiro’s smile turns brighter. “I understand if you want to talk to Lance first. Just do it soon before he’s swept off his feet by someone else. I’ll be with Matt and Katie, okay?”

With a nod and a step off the wall, Keith shoves his way through the crowd with a new feeling of anger and determination, a feeling he himself couldn’t figure out it’s origin. He only has eyes for one thing and it’s tall, lanky, and too-good of a dancer.

Lance, beautiful as he is in his suit, could feel himself being dragged off before he could stop it. A turn of the head is all he needs to identify who would assault him like this.

But Lance doesn’t need that turn of the head to recognize the smell of strawberries radiating off Keith’s form. The dancing scene is getting further and further from his site and he hates it, but doesn’t say a word until they’re alone.

Neither of them do.

Lance doesn’t know what came first. The slam of his body against the wall or the “What the hell is your problem?” in his ear.

“What in the hell are you going on about?” he asks casually.

“You know what I mean, McClain.” And it’s true, as much as he doesn’t want it to be, it’s true. “You don’t just ignore someone’s confession to you.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. Not someone you ‘care about more than anything’, not someone you apparently ‘can’t live without’. That’s not some shit you do,” Keith grinds out. The tears welling up in Keith’s eyes are familiar in ways Lance wishes they weren’t.

He’s such a fucking jerk.

“And what would you know about that, huh?” 

It’s in this moment that they would realize that the party, the celebration of the universe’s greatest victory, is too loud for anyone to hear them yelling; that it’s just loud enough for them to have this private moment that’s eerily different from all their other private moments. But instead, they choose to spend this moment looking into each other’s eyes and silently debating on who’s heart is breaking the loudest.

“Keith—you—you’ve never even liked anyone, Keith. How would you know what we have, huh?”

There’s an ugly lump in Lance’s throat trying to stop him from saying things he didn’t mean, things that he couldn’t take back once they were out in the open.

“You don’t know shit about what this is and isn’t! Not one damn thing, because you don’t know that there are people out there better than me desperately wanting to be on your arm!”

“Yeah and I’ve seen all those people and I still want your dumb ass. You who is reckless when I’m not! You who doesn’t know how amazing he is for putting up with me! Or even yourself! I chose you because I have never known love, not fucking once, and I wouldn’t mind standing here yelling at you about how much I love you until you love yourself!”

And in the short pause between Keith’s words they somehow both became tired and out of breath. Lance’s eyes seemed bigger and puffy with tears building up just enough so they don’t spill.

“Because you did that for me. I choose you, knowing that you start saying things you don’t mean when you’re upset or scared. I choose you, because I like seeing you relieved after you tell me your worries the same way I hope I look to you.

“So don’t tell me I don’t love you, because I do.”

Keith doesn’t know where the words came from or how his mind suddenly let everything out in ways he couldn’t do when he’d practiced his first (ruined) confession speech. His head spins with feelings coming that light the darkness of the hallway and Lance’s long arms wrapped around his neck.

“I’m sorry,” the taller boy whispers. Keith knows his voice is only ever that soft when he’s crying, but chooses not to say anything. Usually-gloved hands pull Lance’s face away from Keith’s warm neck to wipe away any tears there. “I’m sorry for being stupid.”

The fierce red paladin smiles brighter than the nearest sun and meshes their foreheads together. “Yeah, that was pretty stupid.”

I’ll accept prompts from here again when I’m finished with the others.

[lollytea]

So like I know the good chunk of the snack pack is queer, and like they've all got each other and are super supportive of each other, but like how did their respective guardians all initially react to their kid when they came out to them? Just because I'm still working those bits out in my own head. All I really had thought about was Rosiepuff, as you know, and she's not alive in A Little Change ;w;;;

I’ve thought a few of these over in my head so I should probs write em out somewhere. Okay I’ll give like the official A Little Change Snack Pack parent reactions. If you’ve got like different ideas on what their parents are like in the human au, feel free to disregard. All this is pretty flexible

Branch and Creek: Just gonna get them out of the way first. They kept their mouths shut. Both of them were in households with a lack of communication. There was no coming out to speak of.

Poppy: Our Lord and Saviour Mayor Peppy is a middle aged and thriving bisexual and y’all can fuckign fite me on this. Ofc he was delighted when his daughter came out to him cuz shes comfortable enough to talk with him about it and hes really emotional about that and now he can proudly refer to them as a “Queer Household” FUCK YE BBY GIRL ITS YOUR NIGHT LETS DO WHATEVER YOU WANT WANNA PIZZA WITH GUMMY WORM TOPPINGS??? YOURE FUCKIN GETTING IT I LOVE YOU SO MUCH. But like Peppy. Dude. Its Wednesday. Your kid has school in the morning and you two are watching Shrek movies and eating terrible pizza til fuckin 1am I don’t care if youre both queer youre both equally irresponsible I hate y’all

Suki: I feel like Suki never really officially came out when she was younger. Back when she was a teen, she acted more as an “Aggressively supportive ally” who got real excited over positive LGBTQ news on the TV and frequently brought up gay rights at the dinner table. Her parents are a pair of really quiet, really sweet librarians. They’ve never had a bad word to say about Suki’s blatant bi behaviour and were just chill in general. She never felt she needed to spell it out to them unless she ever were to bring home a girlfriend. Plus she wasnt entirely sure if they were familiar with bisexuality and her dad’s kinda half deaf so explaining it might take a while. TECHNICALLY she’s still not out to them in A Little Change. Like she hasn’t been dating Chenille that long but yeah, she does plan on telling them in the coming weeks. I can assure you they’ll be cool with it and she knows they will. (Sidenote: She has 2 brothers and a sister who she told casually years ago.)

Smidge: Smidge’s parents caught on pretty early that their kid might be trans. Like they were fairly young parents who had some trans friends so this wasn’t all that unfamiliar to them. They noticed as far back as Smidge’s preschool years and while they reasoned that it COULD just be a phase or whatever, they’d be prepared for whatever gender their kid turned out as. Meanwhile Smidge, who was having none of this beating around the bush shit, wasted no time in telling them that she wanted to be referred to as a “She” from now on. Tbh I think out of everyone, Smidge’s coming out was the most natural. It happened when she was real little so it didn’t take all that long for them to adjust to. She never did come out as ace. Like she probs will someday over a nice family dinner. But for now, she’s good.

Chenille: Now, I’m not gonna say the twins’ parents are homophobic. Well, maybe some internalized stuff they gotta work on. But they were very heteronormative in nature. Like they were definitely the type of parents who would call every boy their little girls played with “boyfriends.” They never meant any harm by it but it did irritate Chenille a lil bit. But yeah, they didn’t have any real beef with LGBTQ people, they were cool with all the Love Wins stuff but all of it just wasn’t relevant to their lives. It just never occurred to them that they’d have a gay kid y’know? They always thought queer folks were rarer then they really are. Well sURPRISE. Okay, they were pretty stunned once Chenille came out to them. But the knee jerk reaction to her confession is “We love you.” Like they’re surprised, they’re a little uneasy and it might take them some getting used to. But gotta assure the baby girl they love her. That’s important.

Guy Diamond: Listen to me. Mama Diamond is old. She’s tired. This goddamn country has aged her like you wouldn’t believe. She has seen the worst in people and so much of it has been because of prejudice. And while she MAY have had some issues with LGBTQ as a whole 20 years ago, those days are dead and gone, man. Because motherfucker, there is no way in hell she’s going to become like the people who treated her like shit when she first came here. HER SON IS GAY (”Bi, mom. Its bi.”) *HER SON IS BI AND HE IS A BEAUTIFUL, KIND AND TALENTED BOY WHOM SHE ADORES AND IF ANYONE HAS A PROBLEM WITH HIM YOU CAN MEET HER IN THE FUCKING PIT

Cooper: Honestly, I feel like when it comes to him, it was a casual chit chat over the dinner table. Coop’s mom and step-dad are just asking like “Sooo girlfriend?” And he just shakes his head and says he’s not interested in having one. So then Step-dad tentatively tries “Uhh….boyfriend?” Coop grins at that but shakes his head again. “Neither. Just don’t want that. Don’t think I ever do.” And that’s that. His parents nod along. Like they don’t really know about aromantic as a concept but hey, they aint gonna push the kid to date. Leave him be. They’re a chill as heck family.

Biggie: Was really close with his mom and came out to her like a year before his dad. Like out of everyone, Biggie was most definitely the one to cry while coming out. His mom cried too cuz fuck he needed to get that trait from somewhere. But yeah, it was a messy, mushy “i love you I love you I love you no matter what, you’ve grown up so much, I love you, I love you, thank you for telling me,” kind of coming out. Biggie and his mom are both emotional messes. His Dad was different. His dad just….didn’t know how to accept this development. It was kinda uncomfortable for him. I feel like it was at least….hmmmm 2 months. An awkward 2 months where Dad doesn’t know what to say to his kid so he barely says anything at all. It’s hard on Biggie, man. Fuck. But yeah, they do talk about it once Dad sorts his issues out and realizes he’s gonna lose his boy forever if he keeps this up. So he tells Biggie straight up that this is taking some time to get used to but he’s still his son and he still loves him a lot and he’s working on it.

[fierce-fire-dayne]

Depression is such garbage like...

usually I just get the fun, glowstick-spinning depression where it’s just, suicidal thoughts and high-key self hate and sleeping for 12-16 hours.

But when it’s being lame like this? when it’s all, subtly hating everything I usually like, and getting bored of things I enjoy instantaneously, being hungry but unable to eat, wanting to get in bed some 4 hours early just to escape it all? It’s lame. L-A-M-E, lame.

literally give me intrusive thoughts calling me a waste of space any freakin’ day, at least I can stand to play overwatch while they’re doing it, this is just mind numbing.