#Tired bro so tired

[im-traumatised]

Noooooo my psychologist is moving overseasssss I have to find and change to a new one I wanna cry

[humuhgod]

pov: ure the pizza the delivery guy and u somehow alw deliver to the apartment w this clingy as fuck couple who cant seem to detach frm each other while payin in front of u (jus some mini poolverine doodles b4 i crash)

[knockknockwhosthereartistism]

Bills attempt of manipulating Stan via Alex Hirsch

Alex talking about scrapped idea of Bill attempting to make a deal with Stan^^^

[doctorwhommm]

tfw you shoot your boss but he comes back to life so you organise an impromptu mutiny against your him which leads to you accidentally bringing about the literal biblical apocalypse which is only stopped by your immortal boss dying for good this time but psych he actually comes back to life AGAIN and then immediately runs away whilst you’re on a coffee run and you don’t hear from him until a few months later when he’s suddenly a wanted terrorist on the news with his toxic ex and some random junior doctor

[lotus-pear]

bsd rewatch w my friend means obligatory art of my fav found family ever

[wolfram-but-art]

i'm suffering so he suffers with me

[fridayyy-13th]

i swear sometimes i think people forget that Jon's s1 skeptic act was just that—an act. it was an act!!! he believes the statements!! he's believed them since episode one! do we so soon forget that he denied the statements were real because he knew the Eye something wanted him to be scared, and he knew that was bad, so he decided to act like the statements just didn't scare him? remember, he was working with extremely limited information ("when i record the tape statements, i feel watched, like something knows i'm afraid, and i don't want it to know that"), and came up with a genuinely solid solution with what he had! not his fault that the thing watching him was a literal unknowable eldritch entity that feeds on fear, and he was just some underqualified archivist.

[eph3merall]

fratboy!chris n shy!reader headcanons ‎♡

pairing from the pretty girl @sturnioz .

remember this is just my personal view of them <3 completely fine if you disagree with any of these

fratboy!chris who . . . always asks you for notes. basic hc but he does. he isn't exactly doing the best in his classes and is bordering on a failing grade so he can always count on his girl to keep him up to date with assignments <33 the classes he has with you are typically a C+ to B+/A- range. the classes without you? ...

fratboy!chris who . . . loves mocking his sweet girl. no matter if its in bed or when you two are hanging out, if you say something he finds funny he'll mock it in a higher pitch and giggle afterwards.

(this ones kinda specific (im lowk projecting bc this is me and its happened to me before.)) fratboy!chris who . . . ends up just blinking at you because he's faded as fuck and you barged into his room with a nosebleed. you frequently get them and normally they aren't bad, but this time you're breathing all heavy and teary-eyed because theres a lot more blood than usual and it's so hard to breathe and it's just kind of scary. takes him a bit because he doesn't know what to do but he's tying your hair back and letting you bleed into his sink, just reassuring you that you aren't dying.

fratboy!chris who . . . won't let you do drugs. "nah.. nah, shit's gonna mess up your head, bun. so—so don't even think about it, 'kay?" but a lot of times he's high when he's with you or fucking you, so it's a little ironic. deals in front of you at parties as well. speaking of parties...

fratboy!chris who . . . drags you to all the ragers he throws. knows you definitely aren't the most sociable thing so you're practically glued to his side the whole night, earning dirty looks and shakes of people's heads or some smirks. will try to convince you to go to other parties as well, you usually say no unless you know he's going as well.

fratboy!chris who . . . tries his best to be kind to you. hasn't ever really dealt with such a shy and sweet girl before. so obviously it comes as a shock when you shut down during confrontations and cry at most things the girls he's usually with wouldn't cry about. he's mean and icky and kind of a dick, but he's trying. </3

fratboy!chris who . . . doesn't know what you two are. he doesn't like labels, or relationships, or the 'girlfriend' title. it's confusing because he likes you, just doesn't want to admit it to himself or you or anyone else.

fratboy!chris who . . . buys you little keychains or stuffies he thinks you'd like if he's out or something. thats it!

fratboy!chris who . . . is lowkey the meanest in bed :( esp when he's high he's all condescending and laughing at how you're whining. all degrading and shushing just so you can hear how wet you are when he slides in and out.

fratboy!chris who . . . lowkey shoves his fingers into your mouth sometimes during sex. just for funsies, yknow? ^_^

fratboy!chris who . . . absolutely adores you except he doesn't really know how to show it without being kinda mean. wont admit it either, causing the things he says sometimes to hurt you whether he means them or not.

—

©eph3merall 2024

[is-this-yuri]

just got kicked out of the best panhandling spot i've ever had by the mcdonalds management due to a customer complaint. all i got today so far is one dollar.

a dozen people are kind and generous to me every day, and it takes just one asshole to ruin the whole thing.

i'm so tired of moving around and avoiding the wave of stigma and hatred against homeless people. i'm just trying to survive out here, man. cops and other homeless people drove me out of the previous spot, and now i don't know where i'm gonna go.

i'm gonna have to spend the day driving around and finding a new spot to sleep and get my cash, but first i need some gas. the prices went up 10 cents recently too.

i'm sorry to ask again, but if you want to support me through this and are able to, please consider donating to my ko-fi. i would greatly appreciate it as it's all i have for today and until i find another option.

[dangoulains-devotion]

[chloecherrysip]

I told ya, see!? As long as we're together, everything's gonna be okay!

[mordimor]

swfitmurderstuck number 5

big one this time

[szakkale]

look at my monstrosity

[vinestaff]

what the hell, sure

[doctorsiren]

Part 2

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[trulyumai]

Landing a Blow

Pairing: Messmer the Impaler x Reader

Synopsis; The tarnished invaded his keep, Messmer on the brink of defeat, thinks of his wife.

But wait, isn't that her pushing towards him and the Elden Lord ?

Warnings: Blood, Fighting, Violence, Anger.

A/N: Wooo boy! enjoy :)

Read with my Messmer playlist ! https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4Lv2RUNKH2voR45QP07ryd?si=WjtWV47iSiywnT7JhADyUg&pi=u-iz0Wfu53T36-

“Gah- Ah,” 

The tarnished, as if to mock the legend of flames, stood proudly above him; with his weapon pointed downward towards Messmer, ready for the final strike, once and for all sealing their prophecy of lordship. 

He followed the roads, the soldiers all the way to the darkened castle. And now, with the last standing relative of the grace; he could begin his reign. For only him could be Elden Lord.

“To fall- to such a- an indictment upon light; a curse to smother beneath mine own heel,” Messmer gritted out, blood falling off in rhythm off his temple and with teeth bared spat red at the man. His vision blurred, trying not to groan; he focused- the figure in front of him was too shaky for his liking, black dots entered his view.  

His opponent said nothing, with a calm but eerie facade, the tarnished raised his sword above Messmer. It shined against the rising fire cascading the surrounding walls. 

He couldn't believe it- to die by such indecent hands? 

Despicable, what would his family think, 

His followers,

His mother?

“O mother,” head tilted down, he could no longer hold the strong appearance, the pain numbed his senses.

His eyes burned, cuts lay waste to his body and his hands- were covered in blood and ash. 

The maroon stains were dry, flaking off with each nervous twitch of the man's limb and his nails scratched at his knuckles in shame. 

The silence of the room, it pissed him off to no end. For the tarnish to have such a stance- such ground before him, it boiled his blood, flamed his knuckles once more and made him bite down with such a pressure that made the bones in his teeth click and grind.

“Do it,” Messmer urged, red brows furrowed. 

“Or is thou such a coward, thy won’t serve me deliverance?” 

The blade began its descent, and Messmer couldn't physically shut his eyes. Memories upon memories graced his presence. 

And it all involved his wife; his beloved. 

Her laugh, the way she kissed him, smiled at him. 

She was so, so proud of him, even through all the bodies that lay wasted upon the fields; she stayed upon his altar. 

“I'm sorry, my love.” With those final words, his form could now relax and with a wobbling lip, smiled. The smell of Erdflowers and apples comforted his last moments as the blade grew closer. 

“Stop! Please!” 

A voice so delicate, so desperate drew the man from his displayed remorse. 

“Wife?” He all but whispered. It wasn’t possible. It couldn't be real. 

And yet there she stood, just beside the pushed open stone hinges- panting and wobbling toward the pair. 

“Stop, please, I beg of you!” Tripping over a fallen piece of debris she cried out. Messmer couldn't help but jolt towards her in response; only to be stopped by a blade to the neck. 

The girl's eyes widened, still laying on her chest adrenaline began to rush through her bones, shaky arms lifted her upper form yet her bottom half lay sprawled out. Too afraid of the sword running across her husband's skin, distance was kept between them. 

However, the flames held no patience; they burnt the wooden beams around the ceiling, every second that passed meant that more instability entered the chambers. Suddenly, a large pillar fell atop the girl, she screamed out from underneath it and Messmer shuddered. Racked with fear he pushed against the blade, looking- wanting to see if her form laid whole. 

It had. 

She stared back at his yellow iris with blood dripping down the middle of her forehead. 

The walls began to  crack under such heat, paintings lay melted upon the ground and more objects fell upon the vicinity with a startling bang. 

Her eyes, how they shined with such a deep remorse- a sadness that Messmer wished he could pluck out. His hands shook, just how was he supposed to protect his wife in such a state of disarray? 

The tarnished so called, “Lord,” did nothing but glance at the woman and her pitiful state.

He felt the need to cut- maim such a pathetic sort in his presence. So with a kick to Messmer’s chest, he acted upon such intrusive thoughts. 

The air plummeted out of the knight's throat, landing on his back he did nothing but cough out the ash that had landed in his windpipe. From the corner of his eye, he saw the movement and how the tarnished gripped onto his sword. 

“No,” with every fiber of his being he lifted his figure, it was hunched and bloodied, but it stood afoot. His eyes, crazed and desperate, looked towards his cowering wife. 

“Halt!” Ignoring the knight's pleas, the intruder quickened his pace. The girl tried to wiggle out from the object atop of her. It burned the back of her skin and she yelled out in fear. 

He had to act. 

Go. 

GO

GO!

“Mmph!” Finally free, his wife leaned back and tried crawling anywhere away from the approaching mongrel feasting upon her delicacy. 

But, it was too late. 

For the lord had gripped her hair and pulled back with all the might he could. Her feet scraped against the ground until she hung up like a rag doll, clinging desperately onto the man's dirtied glove. 

She cried out, tears littered pinkened cheeks as wails left her throat unconsciously.

With his back to Messmer he had to be quick. 

It would be clean; one slice. 

The blade struck against her throat, creating a line of blood that reached down to her ruined dress. 

For it would have been deeper, if nobody had slammed against his backside.

“Augh-” 

“How dare you,” 

Long fingers found their way against the tarnished neck. 

“Touch my wife, with your graceless, vile hands.”

Desperate for air the man kicked- wriggled under the tall flame. 

It wasn’t enough- for the knight was fueled with fire and anger; only to be snuffed out by the revenge he sought. 

His wife did nothing but push her back against the farthest corner, sobs racked her body and the tears flowed freely. 

She didn't hear the plethora of curses,

The kicking of the crazed lord,

Or the stillness that came after. 

Everything went quiet. Only smoke clouded her vision and it began assaulting her throat most viciously. Coughing she looked, she needed proof of her husband, she wouldn't leave without it. Blinking she tried to push past the itching of her face- ash fell atop it gracefully as her nails itched without care upon her features. 

“Mess-” a dry cough

“Mess-mer!” With such a scratchy tone, there was no way to hear her over the roaring of the flames. 

For once, she crumpled. Did nothing but lay wilted against the floorboards as grief seeped into her bones like a plague. 

Eyelids heavy, they sagged against the itchy smoke filled air. She couldn’t find the energy to leave the chambers. 

Finally allowing her lids to fall; she waited. For death to come and pluck her away, away from the smoke and bodies. 

Warm fingers touched her cheeks, the tips reached to her ears and her eyes jostled open. 

It was him, her darling husband covered in fresh blood, with blackened ash clinging onto his frame. His snakes not upon his form, only ripped pieces of armor littered with maroon stains.

Grunting the man pushed forward, with everything he had left he began to lift the withered girl. 

She tried to cry out in joy, cheer on her husband for such a monstrosity of a fight- but the tears ran thick. They wouldn't stop leaking out and falling atop her husband's hair and face. 

Bursting through the doors, Messmer leaned against the wall as he descended down the walkway. 

His wife whimpered out incessant worries, nabbing at his face as the man tried his best to find the way out of such a destroyed place. 

“Wife- Ah, please,” 

Her lips wobbled as the man continued his trek, never once did her eyes strain from his bloodied form. 

Her hands gripped onto his shoulders, his face, neck- anything she could touch- she did. 

Finally bursting through the last set of doors, Messmer collapsed, his knees skidded against the floor as he held his wife up against him. 

She crumpled with the knight, leaned right into his form with a tight embrace. 

“You- Are you hurt?” 

He felt her head shift back and forth. 

“Thou is- ah, sure?”

Another shift. 

His palms rested on her back, soothingly trying to comfort the sniveling woman. 

She jolted back, and Messmer would have been relieved to see her if not for the harsh slap that accompanied her features. 

“You fool!” She bellowed. 

“You- you ingrate, you nobody! You swore to be the strongest- to protect the order- 

“I swore to protect you, darling- stop this,” 

A single hand rose to capture her violent fists. 

“Thou is fine, the order is fine. That pretender? He lays in the flames of the past, my love- 

“Don’t  ‘my love me!’ You could have died Messmer, and what then? Am I just supposed to forget you-us?!” 

“Don't be foolish.” 

No longer interested in such a conversation the man leaned back, he groaned out in pain as his bones once more lit aflame with agony. 

His eyes were on hers, and with the other hand, captured her jaw. 

“Thou remains safe, that's all that matters.” 

She was too tired to argue- after such an event she was grateful to have her husband alive and well, but the fear had been replaced with anger. 

Remorse hit her like a bolt of lightning. 

“I'm sorry.” She whispered. 

“I thought you died.” 

He smiled lightly upon the girl- ever infatuated with the love she held for the man. 

“Mmm,” He hummed. “That’s alright, dear wife.” 

Without hesitation she leaned in, her bloodied forehead molded against his. 

He could do nothing but stare with half lidded eyes- fighting the sleep off with only her image. 

Noticing the blank expression upon him she laughed, it was rough and exhausted. 

“Sleep, my husband. I will watch over thee, hm?” 

Nothing more needed to be said, securing his head against the stone support behind him, sleep took over the lanky man. 

His wife sighed and with an adoring smile, kissed upon his stained lips.

It was her time to watch over and protect. 

Nothing would get between her and the knight snoring tiredly against her body.