#NOT ONCE!!!!! NOT A SINGLE HIT!!!!

[inkskinned]

he says i hate everyone except you and that is addictive and that is kind of romantic and beautiful because you're young and you're kind of a sarcastic asshole too and you don't like bad boys, per say, but you don't really like good ones either. and you like that you were the exception, it felt like winning.

except life is not a romance book, and he was kind of being honest. he doesn't learn to be nice to your friends. he only tolerates your family. you have to beg him to come with you to birthday parties, he complains the whole time. you want to go on a date but - people are often there, wherever you're going. he's just so angry. about everything, is the thing. in the romance book, doesn't he eventually soften? can't you teach him, through your own sense of whimsy and comfort?

at first - you know introverts often need smaller friend groups, and honestly, you're fine staying at home too. you like the small, tidy life you occupy. you're not going to punish him for his personality type.

except: he really does hate everyone but you. which means he doesn't get along with his therapist. which means he has no one to talk to except for you. which means you take care of him constantly, since he otherwise has no one. which means you sometimes have to apologize for him. which means he keeps you home from seeing your friends because he hates them. you're the single exception.

about a decade from this experience, you'll type into google: how to know if a relationship is codependent.

he wraps an arm around you. i hate everyone except you. these days, you're learning what he's actually confessing is i have very little practice being kind.

[yes-asil]

Dream Team is going to turn 10 this year, so a decade passed with me giggling at Luigi on the bottom screen doing a little jolt in his sleep whenever I jump.

Also; headcanon that he has been nothing but sleepy since he arrived on the island and Mario is constantly worried Luigi's gonna fall flat on his face during battles in real life/is hurting him while traveling through his dream world.

[fairsweetlonging]

i just love disney princess shen qingqiu, like that man is just made to walk barefoot through the forest and sing with the birds while carrying a basket of flowers and foraged goods while deer and rabbits and squirrels follow him around and butterflies perch in his hair like little ornaments; he will sit down near the lotus pond to practice the guqin and the sunlight hits the water like a golden shower as forest critters gather around him to listen, and he has the most beautiful singing voice that pulls in anyone who hears it.

he is the epitome of a beautiful, kind and gentle scholar, though he remains woefully oblivious every time someone talks about qing jing peak's flowers or treasures

[justanobsessedpan]

Family

Ok it's so late because it just took so long, man! 2nd of mine and 12th of @calaisreno 's May prompts. (also why did literally no one tell me the date I put on the last one is of October 11th??? What kinda sick brain-disconnection-prophecy is that supposed to be)

Stay well cuties <3

@totallysilvergirl @helloliriels @dontfuckmylifewtf @sussexinchelsea @loki-lock @topsyturvy-turtely @matixsstuff @ohlooktheresabee @boredsushi @ohmrshudsontookmyskull @nathan-no @astudyin221b @oetkb12 @psychosociogentleman @darkkitty1208 @zira-and-crowley @beesholmes @mydogwatson @liv-olive-oliver @tiverrr @peanitbear @sunshineinyourmind @a-victorian-girl @with-a-ghost-mr-holmes

(Any changes to the taglist, just tell me!)

[toxooz]

naw whos the crusty ass bitch who thinks its cute to take my ocs cause what is this

[fbfh]

just woke up from a baby dream and I'm a sobbing wreck :) anyway Logan Huntzberger doesn't expect much from his future besides monetary success, partying, and a lot lot lot of sex. he definitley doesn't expect to look up one day and realize he's sharing a home, a life with someone. not only that, but he's the one that instigated it. he told you in college he didn't like you being around other guys. he stopped caring about the girls that he would go between, because now he just seems to care about you. everything else falls to the sidelines. so he comes back to his big fancy house after an important business meeting on the golf course, and he sees you there. some old sitcom is marathoning on tv, and you're wrapped up in fluffy blankets, hair up and out of your face. you look so cozy, so comfortable. you keep adjusting the blankets, fussing with them as you hum softly. he walks closer, overcome with a feeling of love and swelling pride and... paternal instinct he's never felt. your son Henry, just a month or two old is bundled on your arms. you look up at Logan and smile so warmly he could cry just from the look on your face when you see him.

"hi," you breathe softly. Henry's settled down, so you don't want to rile him up too much, but he's not all the way asleep.

"hey ace," he breaths, sitting next to you. he wraps you in his arms and kisses you, meeting forgotten as you both admire you baby boy together. you rub his tummy gently, soothingly, and Logan smooths his hair. it's short and fuzzy, and a little prickly. it makes him laugh softly. Henry is wearing the white and blue onesie Honor got for him at the baby shower. he makes a mental note to take some pictures to send her of him wearing it. the soft fabric of his polo shirt and the smell of his cologne mixed with the distinct remnants of golf course air is so comforting. he watches you admire your son, trace the shape of his cute little nose, copy the faces he makes, babble little noises at him. he watches you smooth his hair and help him get comfortable in your arms, watches you place your finger in his hand so he can hold onto it with that surprisingly strong baby death grip. Henry wiggles around, getting comfortable in your arms, and you kiss his forehead again. once you're sure that he's settled, not too warm and not too cold, comfortable and lying safely, you can finally relax. you rest your head on Logan's shoulder, closing your eyes and finally letting yourself relax and rest a little. you take in a big deep breath of his masculine scent, somehow both spicy and refreshing, and sigh. you're content. you're more than content, he realizes. you're happy. Logan... made you happy. he found out what you wanted and built you a life you want, a life he wants. it hits him like a ton of bricks in one overwhelming, amazing moment, and he soaks in the feeling, watching the way your sleeping babys face and yours mirror each other.

[diazsdimples]

Fuck It Friday!

How are we all feeling after today chaps (gn)? Not drowning in our feels too much I hope!

I truly said fuck it today and started a new wip. So here I have the very first snippet of Sleepy Mornings (working title), the premise to which you can find here (and if you cbfed looking, it's a collection of all the times Buck wakes up next to Eddie). Please enjoy what will hopefully be something cute and fluffy (with a hint of sex later)!

The first time Buck woke up next to Eddie, he couldn’t for the life of him figure out how he got there. There he was, in a strange bed, head pulsing in time with an inaudible beat, his mouth as dry as the Sahara, with an unfamiliar, warm lump to his right. Buck blinked blearily up at the ceiling and tried to orientate himself. The room was…. beige. That was the only word Buck’s poor, addled brain was coming up with. Beige, with no life, no character. It could have been a hotel room for all he knew. Trying not to panic as his mind ran through a million scenarios – most of which ended with drugged and held captive – Buck tried to play through the events of the previous day. The last thing he remembered was the beauty pageant, standing numbly as he, Eddie and Hen were handcuffed, before being corralled into the back of Athena’s police car. Everything after that was a bit of a blur. There were small flashes of memories; Athena all but dragging him up the steps into someone’s – Eddie’s – house, Eddie suddenly appearing next to him, his face still tearstained as he hiccupped miserably, Athena sitting on the coffee table and gently explaining to the two of them that they’d been drugged, Athena supporting Buck as he threw up messily into Eddie’s toilet. Buck’s cheeks burned as the memories flickered through his mind like a film reel. He was going to have to send one hell of an apology text to Athena. And Eddie too, if the trash can by the side of the bed was anything to go by. A grumble came from the other side of the bed and the covers shifted as Eddie rolled from his side to his back, smacking his lips before settling back into sleep. Buck couldn’t help but admire Eddie’s face, the way the morning light played over it, giving his skin an almost-honey coloured hue. He shook himself, wincing as his head throbbed once again. Now was not the time for weird thoughts about his best friend. If anything, he’d blame it on the drugs. “’die?” Buck mumbled, pushing himself up onto his elbows as he squinted into the too-bright light filtering through the shabby curtains. “Are you 'wake?”

Tagging @theotherbuckley @hippolotamus @watchyourbuck @thewolvesof1998 @disasterbuckdiaz @puppyboybuckley @bucksbackwardcap @daffi-990 @fortheloveofbuddie @spotsandsocks @aroeddiediaz @jesuisici33 @steadfastsaturnsrings @wikiangela @buckbuckgoose @exhuastedpigeon @cal-daisies-and-briars @wildlife4life @slightlyobsessedwitheverything @evanbegins @nmcggg @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @rainbow-nerdss @kitteneddiediaz @elvensorceress @epicbuddieficrecs @smilingbuckley @actuallyitsellie @spagheddiediaz @thekristen999

[randomwriteronline]

based on this post by @legend-as-old-as-time

He's standing there. Right behind him. He can't hear him, but he can feel him - feel his eyes on the back of his head, his hand as it goes to awkwardly cradle an arm, something like a slight breeze.

Tahu doesn't move.

Something tells him he knows what he's about to say.

"So it was supposed to-"

His hand shoots back, pointing in the other's general direction: "Don't you dare," he threatens. "Don't you even dare say that."

The Toa of Ice remains quiet for a second, maybe stunned.

Then, timidly: "I'm not Kopaka."

"That doesn't change anything. You're my brother, and you better not say that."

"I meant - I'm not-"

"I know that! You think I wouldn't be able to tell your voices apart?"

Immediately he sinks a hand into the vents of his Hau's cheeks and chastises himself with a wordless growl.

"Sorry about that," he mutters: "I shouldn't have gotten angry."

"It's alright," Matoro reassures him softly. He hesitates, breathes deeply, ponders what to say for a few more seconds. "For a moment it felt like he was here again."

They allow a long beat of silence to pass.

Afternoon is bleeding into evening, but the sky isn't growing dark yet - might not for a few hours still. They're entering the drought season in the desert, Tarduk said; good thing they've got underground aqueducts that reach into the mountains, or things could get dire quickly if the autumn rains didn't bring in enough reserves.

It looks warm, of an orange color as sweet as certain ripe fruit. It might be the lack of water. Aqua Magna maintained some amount of blueish hue with its immense ocean no matter what hour of the day it might have been.

Neither have moved. It drives him nuts.

"You don't have to stand there like that," Tahu says without looking, "If you want you can sit down with me."

He still doesn't turn when the quiet steps get closer and closer, nor when the brine-covered joints creak gently or when the Toa of Ice gives a short grunt as he does indeed take a seat at about half a bio of distance from him.

He feels Matoro glance at him every now and then, with the slightest fear, but he never steps out of line, never tries to talk.

Maybe he scared him, by telling him off like that.

Tahu grumbles to clear his throat.

"How was he, by the way?" he says, and he tries to sound casual.

Matoro spends a second or two to compose his thoughts: "Like you," he replies a little lamely. "You were - are - were the same person."

"So he was a self-assured bad-tempered idiot?"

That tears a little laugh out of the other, which Tahu counts as a small victory: "He used to be, a little bit. I had to tell Turaga Nuju I couldn't translate an insult he hurled at him once because I was afraid he would have burnt us to a crisp. But I think he got better with time."

"I'm glad to hear that. If I really have changed at least in one universe, that's good news for everybody."

Another sheepish chuckle trails off: "Well, it's... Truth be told, I didn't know much of him," Matoro admits. "I heard what Turaga Vakama said to the others, about his failings and his successes, but there wasn't... There wasn't a real connection, between me and him."

That tracks.

"Maybe you should talk to Jaller," he whispers. "He was devastated. And the Nuva, of course."

He's seen that. In bits and pieces, vague little hints and unplanned outbursts, but he's caught the same tells he'd seen on the Mahri and in Kopaka - the ones he knows.

But he doesn't want to talk to them. Not yet. None of them are ready for that conversation, least of all himself.

This is easier, despite... Despite the whole of it.

It's a bit simpler.

A bit.

"Did you know him?" the other asks suddenly. "Your... Me, I mean."

"Not much." Tahu replies, and there's a little sigh of relief that leaves Matoro that he really can't reprimand or blame him for: "We were as close as you were with me, so not at all. But he was a good being - reliable, skilled. Compassionate. I'm glad I could call him brother, if only for a little."

Shadows grow longer the more they don't talk.

They both shift uneasily as they notice their slow encroaching approach - old habits die hard, and too vivid memories courtesy of the Makuta make them harder to kill - but their purplish color soothes them along with the dusty ground beneath them.

Matoro is cold. He exudes cold, but not like Kopaka: chill wafts from the Nuva of Ice in a constant and steady stream, creating an aura at least three or five inches thick that from his body blurs into the world around him, so that those who stand too close get the gist and leave him some space; for Matoro it snakes across his limbs and trickles off of him in wisps and plumes, like invisible smoke reaching upwards, and it slips onto others almost by accident - more of a tacit comfort than a thorny shield.

It still gives off a strange feeling when it meets the heat blooming from Tahu.

"Well, since you're here to hear it for yourself," the Toa of Fire announces with an almost casual tone: "You are very loved."

He hears the other startle from the surprise.

"What?"

"You are very loved. I don't know how much you - he - you two knew that, but you are."

He hears his fingers fumble for a moment, scraping each other as he plays with them to figure out what to say: "I... Thank you? Why are you... What does this... I don't understand."

"What is there to understand? You're very loved. People miss you."

"Your Mahri don't seem to enjoy the sight of me."

"They're still grappling with the fact that you're here despite being dead. I'm fairly sure that's what the rest of you go through when you see me." Tahu turns further away from Matoro, searching for familiar shapes into the side of a mountain. "We didn't have time to do much immediately after, for... Him. Not that grand gestures would have mattered much, everything got destroyed pretty quickly. And we're nowhere near as morbid as the Agori are-"

"The Agori?" the other's voice tilts in genuine confusion. "What about the Agori?"

The Toa of Fire gives a breathy cackle: "Do you have any idea how many funerary rites they have? There's at least three for each tribe, and those are only the ones Turaga Nuju held for you."

The air grows slightly warmer.

Matoro briefly forgot how to breathe.

He stares intently at the back of Tahu's head, not shy or sheepish anymore, too completely stunned to do much else.

He speaks again at last, voice so faint it's barely a breath: "Why?"

"I told you. You are very loved."

He keeps staring.

Tahu, very pointedly, does not turn to meet his eyes.

Why can't he turn to meet his eyes?

Why can't he just look at his face?

There's an answer of course. A simple, logical answer, an obvious answer, a clear answer, an answer that sits right on the tip of his metaphorical tongue, in the antechamber of his crystal brain, just waiting to be aknowledged.

If only he could find it.

There's still so much light despite being evening.

The seasons on Aqua Magna didn't bring this extreme a change.

Suddenly, 'days becoming longer' doesn't sound as silly as it had seemed when Berix first told them about it.

"He didn't have to," Matoro whispers. "The Turaga didn't have to. He should have been celebrating that Mata Nui had been saved, not mourning me. Not so many times."

The other waits a moment before replying: "He lost a close friend. Maybe he had too much grief to handle it all in just one funeral."

The Ko-Toa looks away.

His hands scrape against the ground he sits on as he tightens them into anxious fists.

"Would you have done it?" he asks: "If it had been you instead of me here, too, would you have done it too? Chosen Mata Nui over your life and your self?"

"Would you?"

"... Yes."

"Me too," Tahu nods - so certain, plowing through the paralyzing terror of death so that it cannot catch up to him until it's too late. "If I'd been in your place and the only options were either me, any of my siblings, or the universe, I would have sacrificed myself. Jaller and Kopaka are good leaders, they'd know how to make sure the rest of you were safe. And you'd have the Turaga too."

"But we wouldn't have you."

"And we wouldn't have you."

"I'd say a traslator isn't really comparable to the leader of the Nuva."

"He would be to the Mahri. And Nuju."

He should turn around. He should look him in the eye and tell him what he's going to tell him while staring directly at him, so that the words get burned into his brain.

Why in Karzhani's name can't he do that?

"I would have fulfilled my duty as a Mata, and nothing else," he speaks, gazing into a mountain he's stopped really seeing Great Spirit knows how long - a while ago by now: "You took it upon yourself to lose everything for the sake of everybody else. When you compare the two, I see no reason why I'd be any more mourned than you."

"Not even by Turaga Vakama?"

What a strange question.

What a really strange question. Is this another parallel he's trying to draw? He doesn't think he could ever be described as anything to Vakama other than his Toa - one of his Toa, one of six.

What a strange question. The most he's brought the Turaga was grief and annoyance, as far as he can remember, because he was hotheaded and stubborn and stuckup. Vakama knew Matoro better than he knew Tahu, arguably. He wouldn't mourn him as inconsolably as Nuju had.

What a strange question.

"It was as if he'd lost Toa Lhikan all over again."

Tahu does not move.

That has to be an exaggeration.

"He could not conclude his speech to the Metru. He could not even meet the Nuva at first. He had hoped his vision really had been just the result of wires crossed wrong, just this once."

Matoro watches him as the heat around Tahu dissipates slowly, as he stiffens like magma cooling into obsidian.

The purple shadows lean further into the finally darkening skies, coming down, down, down the mountains, down the dunes, down the vegetation that dots the landscape, towards the city that stands in-between the sands, as they continue to sit near each other in perfect silence.

[the-blossica-fan]

On the topic of Prisma candies, does the fact that unused candy gets consumed each week mean that at a certain time each week Vertin goes rifling through the cabinets and eating as much Prisma Candy as she can before the start of Monday? Like, up to an absurd amount of it?

At the beginning I thought it expired so you couldn't use it anymore. Imagine my surprise when 12 Picrasma Jars consumed from Sunday to Monday and my already maxed out Stamina had to warn me it was already maxed out.

Vertin just has that hunger once a week, every weekend, and just devours EVERY SINGLE CANDY JAR

Like, girl chill it's not like they're going stale.

She just devours them, how? No idea, she just does. It's probably like one of those addictions where she goes "I will stop eating candy" and the very next minute she's downing her third jar.

Many of those Jars end up being Faeries house at this point because they have to somehow reuse them y'know, so many jars just can't be there.

Unless Vertin has a room for those jars

Oh God imagine just a room filled with empty jars

[twinkskeletons]

love this. you say hormones changed how you feel about yourself and the world huh. you mean experiencing joy and wonder? becoming mentally stable and wanting to live for the first time in your life?

[holedyke]

having a hashtag bad one 👍

[codecicle]

Have voted for flippa (ofc), can I mayhaps have a chibo doodle

he can't believe they're BOTH undead and transgender. pretty n1fty c01nc1d3nc3!! ^_%

‼️ vote for either flippa or grizzly in the transmcytshowdown and send proof to get a little doodle of your request ‼️

[bondagebimbo]

LOVE when the pharmacy decides to fucking dick around with my meds so badly that now I’m off my mood stabilizer, my pain meds, and my fucking birth control (in a few days) because they’re insisting I should have extra fucking bottles of each one and I DONT because they don’t let me pick up more than a one month supply of narcotics at a fucking time so do explain where these extra bottles are, hmm ????? and they didn’t have enough caplyta ordered last time to even give me my usual 3 months supply of that so … ???? get your fucking heads out of your asses and give me the fucking meds you owe me ??? like ??? but I’m in a nasty headspace right now so if I call the pharmacy this morning, I’m going to be that cunt ass customer they bitch about all day because this isn’t the first time they’ve done this. in fact, the first time, they straight up committed insurance fraud by marking one of my scripts as filled and picked up WHEN, IN REALITY, THEY FUCKING LOST THE SCRIPT AND HAD NO RECORD OF IT BEING FILLED OR PICKED UP IN THEIR SYSTEM, BUT YET, MARKED IT AS SUCH AND CHARGED MY INSURANCE AN ALMOST 8 GRAND FOR THE FUCKING 3 MONTHS OF MY MOOD STABILIZER THAT I. NEVER. RECEIVED. I’m genuinely about to report this entire pharmacy to the pharmacy board because I’m so fucking done with this place. it needs to be shut the fuck down because you’re telling me, out of an entire pharmacy, y’all share the same IQ point AND dead brain cell, collectively ??? then don’t fucking work in healthcare where people rely on you to know your shit and keep track of their fucking meds because you’re just constantly making shit worse on people since you can’t seem to not fuck around with these meds and not ‘lose’ scripts. fuck out of here.

and I’m pretty much out of weed, which is usually my back up pain management method, without the money to afford a delivery order by their cut off time to order in 3 hours because I just paid my fucking bills and have SOME to go towards it, but not enough for delivery to be free, and I’d still have to walk my ass to one of the ATM’s nearby because they don’t accept my bank as a prepaid method OR any of the cards I have on my person. 🫠

I can literally feel my back spasming and seizing on and off while I’m laying on my fucking side, I’ve had a migraine with a stupid ass aura for almost a week now because chronic migraines fucking suck and i was REALLY hoping this one would be over by now, my muscle inflammations that my pain meds are supposed to limit are already beginning to start their itching deep in my muscles so soon they’ll blossom into a whole fibromyalgia fucking episode and become entirely inflamed, my joints in my hands fucking hurt because of the dreary weather so I really need to get into a rheumatologist at some point soon as well and get that shit figured out, I’m nauseas as fuck from all the pain, and I’m moody, hormonal, and just feel like fucking death physically.

I’m just. I give up.

this shit is exhausting and painful and so mentally fucking taxing to constantly deal with and I just want a fucking break from all this fucking shit. I wish I could just … not exist … for even just a little while with how fucking painful existing actually feels right now 🫠😭

[dennisboobs]

am periodically reminded of the fact that people see charden entirely different than me and i get scared, like who are these guys. that's not who lives in my head.

[ur-ghostgirl]

~

[tsuchinokoroyale]

Was soooooo happy with this phase 1 which is what made it so much funnier that I was immediately clapped by his phase 2 😂