#also lmk if this doesn't work for you

[hrhprincerichard]

[Boxing Day]

Mate, I know you've probably got an amazing itinerary for New Year's Eve planned for us already. But I hope you haven't given any RSVPs you've got to stick to. I think you might like this one.

[Attached: image of the invitation to the New Year's Eve bash.]

[mattodore]

birthday boy 🎂

[askblueandviolet]

For both of ya'll-

What's your earliest memory? Are you fond of it? Are you both doing ok now at least?

Also! For Macaque, have some extra theater props and such! For Mayor, here's a business card for a therapist. Please- your mental state is worrying- q-q If not that, have some noodles dude. Not sure if you need to eat but surely some comfort food will make you feel marginally better?

That's all! :D Have a nice day!

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[stergeon]

> FERDINAND II.

And so your PLANT shall henceforth be known as FERDINAND II.

The thought of needing to inform FERDINAND I of his having a namesake makes you a bit ill, but you are already hard at work devising several plausible excuses for the gesture. Something about how you've named it after the one most invested in its naming, or how it is similarly prone to drooling. Yes. Yes, you will be able to deflect quite easily, should the need arise. It has nothing to do with your fondness for FERDINAND or your desire for a substitute in his imminent absence, no—again, you are not so prone to sentimentality. It's about the drool.

Well, anyway. Best to move on with your day and think about something else, lest you grow maudlin or cultivate further affection for the PLANT. May the GODDESS be merciful and never cause you to develop inclinations that could be described as paternal.

Now that your plant has received sufficient care, it is time for COFFEE. You set to making your morning brew. By CHANCE, there happens to be sufficient water remaining in the kettle for FERDINAND I to have TEA, should he wish it.

Per your TIMEPIECE, it is now a quarter to eight. You have made excellent progress on your PRE-BREAKFAST TO-DO LIST thus far: the only remaining task is to remove FERDINAND. You are starting to get rather peckish and would like to be rid of him quickly, but over the past week, you have found that extracting the man from YOUR QUARTERS is a more arduous task than it ought to be.

#007 | << | <- | -> | JOURNAL | HOW TO PLAY | ALL POSTS

[linabirb]

going from my previous theme to this one feels like switching from a dark mode to a light one or something

[linagram]

i guess even they had someone they could say they loved.

[lcngdays]

@bloodbared // plotted

Temperance wasn't sure what it was about him.

Richter had never made much of an impression on them before. But they'd sailed through high school without a care in the world. They hardly noticed anything or anyone. He'd probably been there, and they just hadn't been paying attention, and then they'd left town.

Unfortunate circumstances led them back home, but that didn't mean they were going to give up on the Youtube grind. It was what was paying off their student loans, of course, so there wasn't much choice either way. They were back and looking for new leads on anything paranormal and they found him.

Temp had sat through the interview easily. Asked all the right questions at all the right times. Responded appropriately. Laughed when they were meant to, all the great things an interviewer did, they did. Things had a tendency to come easy to them, after all. But they were more than just enjoying the interview, they were enraptured by it. By him.

Maybe it was wrong, or weird to be so attracted to a man telling them about all the spilled guts he'd seen but they couldn't help themself. There was just something about him. Maybe it was their similar interests? Maybe it was having someone so engaged in what they were doing and saying? They didn't know. By the time the interview was over, Temperance was practically squirming in their seat.

They smile at Richter, glancing back at their camera set up. They stand and move to turn it off. Normally they'd leave it on to catch some post production, maybe some b-roll, anything like that. But not tonight. Tonight, they were going to shoot their shot. And who knew? Maybe luck would be on their side.

"listen." Their voice is casual. "i'm not normally so bold..."

Not on things like this, anyway. They'd only ever had one partner sexually and that had been one of the most awkward and uncomfortable experiences of their life.

"but like... i think you're really hot. and that was an amazing interview. and as much as i'd love to get to work on post-production... maybe." They stroll over to him, lightly lay a hand on his shoulder. "maybe we could spend a little more time together tonight?"

[retromutagn]

@eyeknowmayhem asked for a silly starter / mm donnie and wingnut.

he's made a space in their hectic home to set up his laptop where they (and anyone else who ends up joining) can both see. he's got access to all the best streaming sites, some by...dubiously legal means. he's not even setting them up for a proper binge session, this is just to figure out their commonalities. "okay, okay, you've seen fullmetal alchemist, right?" he almost feels dumb for even asking about such a classic, but hey, he doesn't know what the internet sitch was in superfly's lair. his own brothers would've been bored to death without him managing the tech, after all.

[thats-a-lot-of-cortisol]

Some sketches of my wizard Peri as I (slowly) work my way through Act III

[normaltothemax]

∗ o8﹕ sender  shows  up  at  receiver’s  home  late  at  night . for max! just. finds him in her living room or w/e probably mid-eating a condiment with his fingers

“What the fuck.”

It wasn’t spoken like a question, but it sure as hell was one. Max gaped at the man sitting on her couch, practically wrist-deep in a jar of relish, her mind struggling to come up with something that would explain the bizarre scene playing out before her.

Nothing.

She had absolutely nothing.

She wasn’t even mad (for the moment, at least), just confused beyond belief. What was he doing here? How had he gotten in? Why relish, of all things? Why couldn’t he at least use a spoon? “You—” A blink, two, before letting out a long-suffering sigh, head falling back. She stared up at her ceiling for a long moment, silently regretting every choice she’d ever made in life, before muttering “Screw it” and kicking her shoes off.

This might as well happen.

She tried to ignore him as she put her stuff away, tried to ignore the headache that was steadily growing, but eventually came back to the living room brandishing a spoon. “That’s disgusting. And also, terrible manners. You don’t just break into someone’s house and then stick your dirty fingers in their condiments. That’s just rude.”

@ofkasterborous (x)

[thefabelmans2022]

conspiracy theories really would have you believe that no one ever commits suicide and i feel like that kind of mindset is really not a good one like. these theories spread the belief that someone would NEVER commit suicide if they were working on something they thought was important or if they were planning for the future or if they had friends and family or if they seemed totally normal before they died and all comes from a total lack of understanding of depression and suicide and like how are we supposed to change our cultural attitudes towards suicide if we're just in total denial that it even exists?

[lovef0ols]

if you aren't autistic you have 0 right to talk over autistic people. stay out of it. stop infantilizing us.

[askblueandviolet]

Do you think you be Mayor could’ve been better friends (orsomethingmore) under different circumstances?

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[finalslay]

@desiredprince / x.

jonathan is not blind. he has been around long enough to notice when someone stares a little too closely, when their interest seems piqued far more than it should be. the blond man had watched him carefully the entire time he'd been inside the establishment, and now on the streets outside it, jonathan knows he is being followed. the average person probably wouldn't notice it — but heightened senses allow for the awareness, allow him to sense the other's presence not far behind him. the doctor tucks into a nearby alleyway, dark and secluded ; the rats scuttle beneath his feet, little heartbeats that sound far too loud in his ears. he has not fed in a bit — that must be remedied soon. but, first ... “ are you going to skulk around in the shadows all night, or are you going to come out and introduce yourself? ”

[fakeosirian]

Flat On Your Face: Chapter 9

read on ao3! NOTE: SIGNIFICANT TAG UPDATE!

summary: We've graduated from communication clarity level "blackout curtains" to "mirror after a hot shower." (No scoffing at progress.)

teaser:

“I—” The words caught in his throat. Was Eddie playing dumb? He had to be, or messing with him, or something. Unable to decide if he was more ticked off or embarrassed, he flapped a hand dismissively. “I won’t mess it up this time, that’s all. Just a roadblock. A…big roadblock, but just a roadblock. I won’t let it hold me up for too long.” “Not trying to diminish what you’re struggling with, so don’t take this the wrong way, but dude…how is it your fault these letters are vague as hell? Nina’s been chewing on them for a year now. No one’s expecting you to have it figured it out in like, an hour.” Eddie hadn’t said it directly, but he didn’t need to. Even silent, it was loud enough already to be all Fabian could hear. Thinking you’re more special than the person literally called the Chosen One? Hello, Pride.

[gas-stxtion-a]

Closed starter for @triggerbigger :3c

It's late at night and the gas station is well and truly dead. Jack hasn't seen a customer for hours now, aside from the Kieffer currently sleeping at one of the booths inside. Normally, he would be delighted and looking forward to a night of smooth sailing.

Unfortunately, though, tonight seems as though it's going to be anything but.

Right now, Tony and Jack are out back while Jerry mans the front, looking in the trunk of Tony's car. In there is the corpse of a very, very dead Kieffer. It looks as though Kieffer's been dead for a few hours at most, his permanent expression of confused bewilderment still stuck on his face. He's almost making the same face as the other Kieffer currently alive and well in the store, which Jack might find funny in any other circumstance.

"I thought we were through with this," Jack says with an exhausted sigh. He looks up from the body and over at Tony, his face set in a frown. "Are you sure-"

"It was an accident," Tony says insistently. He looks just as tired and stressed as Jack is feeling as he runs a hand through his messy curls. "For real this time. Swear to God, Jack."

"I believe you, man. I just don't know how we're supposed to explain any of this to anyone. This is, what, the tenth time now?" Jack looks back at the corpse. "... Do you think Spencer would take this one back, too?"

Instead of replying, Tony abruptly slams the trunk of the car shut, nearly closing it on Jack's hand in the process. Immediately, Jack startles, looking at his friend with wide eyes.

"What the fuck-" he starts, only to be cut off.

"Hey!" Tony calls out, immediately putting on a charming smile as he leans back against his car and lifts a hand in a wave. Jack immediately comes to the conclusion that someone has found them and does his best to appear natural as well, though he doesn't turn to see who it is.

"Fancy seeing you here, sweetheart," Tony continues, clearly pleased to see the newcomer despite his nerves at being caught. "My, ah, coworker and I here are just taking care of something real quick."

"Yep," Jack confirms, still not turning around. "Nothing to worry about here. Just normal gas station stuff." He pretends not to notice the sharp look Tony quickly shoots his way.