#and i was like? surely there must not be that much water?

[yaaboi-jay]

Mac and cheese recipe from me because why not (i like to cook and i made this so im egotistic)

On a stove, add a thing of macaroni and boil it in a pot. How long? Until it's cooked idk (do this while making cheese sauce

Get another pot. Probably something big enough to hold the mac and cheese so you can place the macaroni where you're gonna make the sauce.

Grab flour, butter, milk, cheese (mix of cheddar any anything else or not. If its pregrated, you can wash it to remove the starch on it but you can skip this, i dont think ot makes a difference.)

1. Melt a half cup of butter (8tbs) on medium. Not high, medium.

2. Put the same amount of flour in and mix it all up until it mixes and becomes like mash potatoes if they looked weird

3. Turn down hest to medium low. Do not let this go to high. Medium low. Make it hot but no boiling. If you mess this up you might burn it.

4. Add a bit of milk (like a a few tablespoons )and mix until there's no liquid and the flour butter parts are more liquidy than before

5. Repeat step 4 but add only a bit of milk each time. Remember don't add a lot all at once. Little by little. DONT add more milk until the previous milk is already mixed in. (If you want an exact amount, I think 3 cups but maybe a bit more or less but do less if you aren't sure. Like 2.5 cups)

6. If its all mixed and looks very much more liquidy, you can add more milk every time until you get like a thick soup. If you aren't sure, add less milk. it should not be too thick, it should still be a free flowing liquid. Always make it thick instead of thin if you don't know. Like Adam ragusea said, you can add water, you can't take it away.

7. Add cheese. How much cheese? You decide. Don't add alot all at once. Add like half a handful and keep going until it looks good. Remember that the sauce should still be a bit liquidy. It's a cheese sauce, not a cheese dip. If you don't know, just add half a handful and a bit more. You can add some later. Sauces are always more liquidy when hot so cooling it down thickens it. (Quarter of half a cup of packed cheese but I never pack it down so don't trust me. It's your food I'm just here for a guide)

8. Mix it all until cheese melts. Once you have a sorta thick sauce.

9. Add seasoning. Salt and pepper is a must. Maybe like a tablespoon of salt and 2 tsp of pepper. Remember if you don't know, add slowly and add less. You can always season at the end. Don't rush it. I add garlic powder, onion powder, chili powder, and paprika. Chili powder and paprika and garlic powder and flavor. Don't skip those if you want enhanced max and cheese. you can always add at the end, don't tush

10. hey your pasta done? Strain it and add it to the cheese sauce. cool it down, come back in 15 minutes and taste. Grab a a bit and put it on a plate. If you don't like it, add some seasoning to the plate. If you like the seasoning, add to pot. If not, don't. Try out small portions to get taste right.

You got mac and cheese! Better than store bought, and more cost effective and delicious!

So like I had a big family party a few days ago and we made mac n cheese cause I like mac n cheese a lot, but we made too much mac n cheese and had like 2 and a half trays of it left after the party

I didn't really mind cause I like mac n cheese a lot and so for the past few days I've just been eating mac n cheese for every meal and I've been loving it

But today my mom goes "we better put it in the freezer before it spoils" and I'm kinda sad about it cause what will I eat now, y'know?

So I go to take a nap and I have this like CRAZY distressing dream where I'm in this white blank void and in front of me is a glowing and floating tray of mac n cheese and I try to reach out for it but my hand just passes through it and then slowly the mac n cheese starts fading away and like I fall down to the ground straight up CRYING because I'm so sad about the mac n cheese leaving me, and I wake up with tears in my eyes and I have that like melancholic feeling of having forever lost something or someone very close to you

The meme above is an artists rendition

[aspoonofsugar]

"I'm done blaming myself for your mistakes"

This line by Vi pretty much sums up her conflict in Act 1 of season 2, but I have yet to see it discussed. The point is, in fact, that Vi does blame herself, which is why she is unable to properly call Cait out. If Jinx specifically were not the one responsible for Cassandra's death, I doubt Vi would have stayed silent in front of Cait calling Zaunites animals or that she would have accepted many of Cait's actions without saying a word.

Vi still feels at fault for Powder becoming Jinx, which makes her vulnerable and willing to compromise on her morals, so that Caitlyn would not leave her. Ironically, I think this behavior is among the reasons why their love story does not work out in the first Act. They fail to communicate properly.

On the one hand Cait treats Vi badly. She insults Vi's people and insists that Vi should become an enforcer, despite her knowing of Vi's painful past. Obviously this is wrong, but personally I think it stems from Caitlyn's poor attempt to reconcile her love for Vi with her hate for Jinx:

"Three faces keep spinning through my mind. I see mother when they found her. And every fiber of me just sinks like in dark water. But then there is Jinx. Laughing. I want to tear that laugh from her throat forever. Then I see Vi. I asked her to put on the uniform. Suffice to say, she declined."

Cait's solution is to have be become a part of her society, so that she can keep on hating Jinx and the "bad" Zaunites, while loving Vi and the "good" Zaunites. Except it obviously does not work.

On the other hand Vi is unable to call Cait out. And the whole point is that Cait needed someone to call her out. She is grieving, but she is obviously becoming like the enforcers she once despised. Like the enforcers Vi despised. She negates Cassandra's legacy, by using her ventilation system to poison the air. She acts cruelly against a man, who is unharmed and who has clearly been hurt by that same gas she weaponized. She is ready to shoot a child (even if she does not intend to kill her), so that she can get at Jinx. Vi clearly sees all of this, which is why she asks Cait not to change:

Vi: Everyone in my life has changed. Promise me you won't change.

However, she fails to confront Cait about it all. Except that when you are in a relationship, you must feel secure and free to call the other person out. Even to get into a fight with the other person. Still, Vi is so terrified of losing Cait too, that she is indecisive. And in the end she is tragically left behind by Cait.

This happens because Vi herself has not yet decided who she wants to be. Is she a Zaunite or an Enforcer? Does she want to kill Jinx or not? Vi can't choose. Jinx even calls her out on this:

Jinx: Plastering my face all over, so someone else would do your dirty work?

She tells Cait she wants Jinx dead, but the moment she can kill Jinx she doesn't. Sure, Isha comes between them, but after Cait disarms Isha, Vi could pretty easily take Isha away from Jinx and let Cait kill her sister. However, she does not. That is clearly because she sees Powder in Isha. Jinx and Isha embraced are clearly representative of who Jinx is as a whole. She is an unstable terrorist, but she is also a hurt child. That is who Jinx is and that is what Vi (and Jinx herself) needs to see and to reconcile. Even now, Vi insists that Powder is dead and that only Jinx remains. However, Jinx is Powder no matter how much Silco, Jinx herself and Vi insist she isn't. She still clearly is.

It is just that Powder has changed, but this is normal. Just like it is normal Vi herself has changed and will need to change again, so that she can decide who she really wants to be. Just like Jinx and just like Cait will have to do.

As a side note, I am loving the foiling between Cait and Jinx. They have always been foils, but while last season focused on how this juxtaposition impacts Jinx, right now we are seeing how it impacts Cait.

In season 1, Jinx sees Cait as Vi replacing her. In a sense, Jinx's jealousy of Vi stems from that same inability to accept change. Jinx too deep down hopes she can go back to being the innocent Powder and that Vi can love her, like she did in the past. However, that is not possible because people change and forge new relationships. Jinx forges a bond with Silco she can't simply erase because Vi wants to. Just like she can't erase the one with Vi simply because Silco wants to. Similarly, Vi has a new bond with Cait that she can't break simply because Jinx asks her to. So, Caitlyn is really who Jinx wants to be. Someone complementary to Vi in battle, but also reliable, dependent, lovable. By the end of season 1, Jin realizes she can't really be that person anymore and interiorizes there is a part of her Vi can't understand. That same part Silco instead accepts.

Silco: Don't cry. You are perfect.

In season 2, Jinx becomes Cait's dark side. She is really Cait's Joker, as she is the one who challenges Cait's sense of justice and morals:

Cait: It's her blood in your veins. Vi: Then why are you the one acting like her?

Cait is letting grief and pain change her for the worse, just like Powder was transformed by her own losses and traumas. Cait keeps insisting she is different from Jinx, but she isn't. In fact, her whole fiasco kinds of hint at it symbolically. Cait poisons the underground city in her attempt to catch Jinx. Only for Jinx rewinding the ventilation system, so that the poison Cait used is sent back to Piltover. Jinx literally acts like Cait's mirror, which is why Cait's shot ends up hitting exactly this, a mirror. As in, Cait can't really kill Jinx without hurting both herself, Vi and the whole city :P

I am curious to see how their foiling will develop, now that both girls are growing into the leaders of their opposite factions.

[supernaturalfreakout]

The Morning After (Sam Winchester x fem!reader)

Summary: You wake up after a wild night with Sam. He refuses to let you to forget how good he made you feel ...

Tags: MDNI, fluff and smut, Dom!Sam, Sub!You, BDSM, consensual kink, aftercare.

Notes: This is part of a wider fic. Reader had mental health issues. Newly-established relationship. Sam is very protective over you.

The next morning came like a declaration. The sun was out, reigning high and bright in the crisp winter sky, and for the first time in years, you felt at peace; awoke without a deep, profound longing gnawing at your bones. The absence was noticeable. So noticeable in fact, that at first, it was almost unsettling. As if a piece of yourself had gotten lost in the night, only to be replaced by a feeling so foreign it felt out of place in your body. Where once stood a well, waters dark and stagnant, now existed an ocean—vast, moving, and alive. So instead of reaching for your phone, squeezing your knees to your chest, or holding your breath to fill the void, you rolled to the side, opened your eyes, and welcomed the day with the deepest sigh of relief you could muster.

Beside you, Sam splayed. His rich brown hair fanned like shards of chocolate over your faded floral pillowcase; his lips parted softly in sleep. His body took up most of the bed, and—as you had realized in the night—had a habit of eating the sheets. You now noticed that was probably because he clenched the edges in his fists, so whenever he rolled, they rolled with him. You smiled at that—little quirks only ever revealed in the midst of intimacy. After-hour truths and early-morning peculiarities. You wondered how many more he had; whether he knew them himself; whether you would be lucky enough to discover them all, one day. It was a wistful thought. A dangerous thought. Yet today, you couldn’t quite bring yourself to deny them.

Sweeping your eyes over his features, you admired the mix of sharp masculine strength, and soft delicate beauty. You observed the rise and fall of his chest in time with his peaceful breathing, the subtle flutter of his eyes beneath his lids, and his jaw; strong, but relaxed, framed by stubble that was getting even longer by the day. You knew that Dean would probably tease him for it, but you didn’t mind. In fact, it rather suited him. And the way it felt roughing up your thighs ...

You shuffled up the bed, wincing softly as you drew your eyes from the scene. It took every fiber of your strength, but you managed. It was too early for those kinds of thoughts, wasn’t it? Plus, you were sore, the ache in your glutes and hips reminiscent of a tough session at the gym.

Next to you, on your bedside table, stood a bottle of lotion, a half-sipped glass of water, and an open packet of Advil; the only evidence of last night’s promiscuities in sight.

After your shower, Sam had diligently stripped the bed, chucking the dirty sheets in the wash along with his soiled jeans.

Your face reddened at the thought, memories of the evening before resurfacing. You hadn’t had sex like that in… well … never.

Your eyes drifted back to Sam’s sleeping form. Your body heated. A selfish thought crossed your mind.

How easy it would be, you thought. To roll on top of him and take what I want. He wouldn’t say no. You were sure of it. Hell, he’d practically sworn an oath of servitude. But no. I can’t. I shouldn’t … Poor man needs his rest.

Sam must have felt your shifting as he groaned softly, then rolled away, towards the window where the morning light was waiting behind the backdrop of the curtain. You lingered for a moment, on the brink of hesitation before delicately slipping your legs out of the sheets, careful not to make too much of an impression in the mattress.

After quickly popping your pill, you padded barefoot towards the door. You floated down the stairs and into your kitchen where you went through the motions, swallowing your vitamins before pressing some fresh coffee for the both of you. Sam liked his black—because of course he did—health nut that he is. But your preferred brew was with oat milk, and a generous helping of caramel.

Balancing the two steaming mugs, you ascended the stairs and nudged open the bedroom door. The room was still bathed in the soft light of morning, the hazy transition between sleep and waking making it feel like you were in a dream. But you were not dreaming. This was real. And way more colorful.

Sam’s back was still turned to you, but he stirred as you set the mugs down on your nightstand. He rolled onto his back, blinking his eyes open. When he saw you, a sleepy smile spread across his lips.

“Morning," you said, your voice still hushed as you slipped back under the sheets.

“Morning,” he replied, his voice deep and rough with sleep. “You’re up early.”

“Made you coffee." You nodded towards the mug. “Figured you might need it after last night.”

A low, rumbling chuckle sent a pleasant shiver down your spine. “You spoil me.” He kissed your forehead as he reached over to grab the mug from your nightstand. “Mm, perfect,” he said, eyes fluttering shut as he took a sip, savoring the warmth on his tongue. “Just what I needed.”

You smiled, took a sip from your own mug before setting it down and snuggling into his side. Into safety. His arm wrapped around you, pulling you close, and you couldn’t help but sigh in contentment as you laid your head on his chest, feeling the steady thump of his heartbeat beneath your ear.

After a moment, Sam asked, “How’re you feeling?” as his hand gently traced circles on your lower back. “Any more aches or pains?”

You chuckled softly, tilting your head up to meet his gaze. Last night, before bed—but not before a thorough debrief and a comforting dinner—Sam had insisted on inspecting the damage, checking your body for any signs of injury or abrasion, making you lie still as he massaged lotion onto your ass, wrists and knees.

“How bad?” you’d asked, looking over your shoulder as you laid flat on your belly, feeling particularly silly as he slathered another cold dollop on your ass cheeks.

The redness was fading, but the most abused patches had already begun to mottle. “You’re bruised.” He’d said it like an accomplishment. Even so, you could tell he felt a little guilty. Dude seemed to find a reason for self-blame in everything, you’d noticed.

Bruises were acceptable, you’d agreed. Favorable, even. As long as they could stay hidden. A secret for you to enjoy. You weren’t a fan of parading your winnings.

“Jeez, baby," he'd said, "you didn’t even stop me once.”

“Didn’t need to. I’m a tough cookie.”

“You most certainly are.”

Sam had continued his inspection of your butt a bit longer than necessary, watching the emerging patterns bloom before him. And you’d let him. It felt nice to be wanted; to be admired.

Now you felt the residual ache of the night before as you stretched out your limbs. A reminder of how he’d marked you. Claimed you. A brand you were proud to bear. The hickey on his hip paled in comparison.

“A few,” you admitted, casting a shy, sideways smile. “But nothing too bad. Just … you know, the good kind of sore.”

Sam’s eyes darkened as he met your gaze, remembering the intensity of your session; how rough he’d been and how you’d embraced it all. Embraced him. He’d get a proper look at you later; get a better idea of your tolerance. But for now, his hand continued its soothing movements on your back, dipping lower to massage the ache in your hips. “Let me know if you need anything. I might’ve been a little too enthusiastic.”

“I think I can manage … Besides,” you added, leaning up to press a kiss to his jaw, feeling the graze of his stubble against your lips. “You more than made up for it.”

His hand moved to your thigh, fingers kneading gently into the tender muscles there, his touch both comforting, and suggestive. “Maybe I should make it up to you again.” His voice dropped lower as his other hand cupped the back of your neck, guiding your lips to his.

The kiss was slow and deep; a languid exploration that sent a wave of heat through your body. You felt yourself melting into him, the soft sheets tangling around your legs as you pressed closer, craving the feel of his skin against yours. Suddenly, the ache in your muscles seemed to subside, replaced by a burning want. It had only been a few hours, book-ended by sleep, but still, you felt the pull, the desire to dive straight back in. When you finally pulled back, both of you were breathing a little heavier, the air between you sparkling with a familiar electricity.

“Careful,” you whispered, lips brushing against his as you spoke. “We might not make it out of bed if you keep that up.”

“Maybe that’s the point.” He slid his hand back under the sheets. Skimmed his fingers across your skin. “I’ll be gentle ...”

You swallowed, moistening a suddenly dry mouth. “You’re not ... tired?”

“Are you?”

“Wide awake.”

“Well, then . . .”

You let him guide you to your back, moaning softly as your head hit the pillow, followed by his mouth at the base of your throat. His kisses cascaded down your chest, between your breasts, down your stomach, tumbling over your hips like waves over rocks until they finally crashed in the hollow between your legs. The place that had become their home.

“I’ll never get sick of this…” A smile lit up his eyes, your sheen glistening like gloss on his lips. “You’re delightful ... Delicious.”

“You’re unreal.”

“No, princess…” A slip of a finger. In and up towards your navel. “I’m very … Real.”

----

This is an excerpt from my longer fic on AO3. You'll find more of this—including what they got up to the night before—here. 😏

[tumblerlove]

Yes, I am alive....no, I don't even know where it is that I disappeared to, but I'm back 😌 so here's some Rafe angst that does end happy, though

"Rafe, what's wrong?" You gasp as you see your boyfriend absolutely distraught....

You hadn't heard from Rafe all day, which is werid for him. If you two can't be together that day, then he'll call you at least. But he hadn't even texted you either. That's why you're knocking at Tannyhills door right now. Wheezie had let you in, and you could tell the house was tense by the look on her face. It was just her and Rafe. You didn't hear or see Ward, Rose, or Sarah around

You knock on his door before entering. "Wheezie, go away, I don't want to talk right now," he yells behind the door. You open it anyway and peek inside and see him on the edge of his bed

You tell him softly, "It's just me, Rafe." He whips his head towards you and can see that his eyes are teary and red. And omg, there's a bruise under his eye. And maybe even his lip is cut?! His hair looks disheveled like his hands had been running through it

"Rafe, what's wrong!?" You gasp as you see your boyfriend absolutely distraught. "What...what are you doing here?" As he stands up and looks away from you

"I came to check on you...I hadn't heard from you it's not like you." You tell him as he looks away from you. "Rafe, tell me what happened," you ask him, your tone pleading a little, trying to find out what happened that has him like this

"Just fucking go. I don't want you seeing me like this, " his voice raising at you, still looking away from you. He never would talk to you like this

"Don't talk to me like that, Rafe...I'm your girlfriend. I have a right to find out what's got you so upset so I can help." Your tone is firm but still caring

"God, I'm sorry, baby. I didn't mean to raise my voice at you," he tells you his tone softer now. He turns around to you. "Oh Rafe," you gasp out and walk up to him and inspect the black eye forming already. He does infact have a cut on his cheek and his lip, too

"Did you get into a fight?" You look at him, knowing how he was before meeting you. "No, no, I promise," his tone serious. You can tell he didn't fight as you see his hands are clean, no cuts or blood on them

"If you won't tell me then... just let me fix you up and take care of you." Your eyes finding his that are watering again. He mumbles "Ok" as you step closer to him and hold his hand, moving him towards his bathroom

He sits on the toilet seat as you grab some things to patch him up, still curious as to what happened. You clean his cuts, making sure they don't get infected. He winces when you use a cleaning spray. "I'm sorry, baby." You lean down and kiss, his forehead

"It was my dad," he blurts out as you make eye contact with him. Trying not to move or speak, so he continues on. "He got pissed off because the job he had me working on fell through." his eyes look hurt. You knew that he had been working on it and trying so hard to make it work.

He's holding your waist as if you'll keep him grounded while telling you. "I told him that I tried everything, and the guy had pulled out last minute. He didn't believe me... said I must have fucked something up." Rafes words mumbled as he presses his face into your stomach, not being able to look at you

"When I defended myself again he pushed me and when I tried to push him away he punched me and his ring cut me too" he looks finally up at you as you both have tears in your eyes

"Oh Rafe," you look at him, pulling him to you so you can hug him properly. "I...I didn't even defend myself. I just walked away after like a coward." He sounds defeated and tired. "You did the right thing. You're the bigger person. You've grown from this behavior." You try to help him calm down and reason with him that he did good

"You know how much worse it could've been baby if you would've fought him back," you say, holding his face to look you in the eyes. "You are a stronger man for walking away. Your father is the coward."

"I fucking hate this" he looks up at you eyes watery. "I'm so tired," Rafe says, his voice and face breaking your heart

You pull him up and start moving him back to the bedroom. "Let's get you comfortable and in bed," you smile up at him, doing your best to help him. Rafe just mindlessly follows you as you pick out sweats for him to change into

"Let me help you," you step closer to him to start getting his shirt off. "You don't have to, baby," his voice soft while looking at you. "I know... but I want too" you say as you get him into sweatpants

As you get him into bed and make him comfortable, he grabs your hand. "Can you stay here tonight?" Rafe asks softly. "Of course I was just gonna change into something comfortable," you cup his face before changing

When you're changed into one of Rafes' shirts and a pair of underwear, you climb into bed with him. His eyes are puffy from crying and swollen from his black eye. It breaks your heart seeing him like this, knowing he's eating himself up over his dad's shit

"Rafe...." you ask as he's snuggled against your back, cuddling against you. "Yes, love," he says, sleepy. "You should move in with me," you blurt out. You feel his body stiffen for a second until he says, "I'll start packing in the morning." He kisses your neck as he falls asleep

Next morning, you wake up to the sounds of Rafe packing his things up with a smile on his face.

[romchat]

Fangs of Fortune (Ep. 25): Quick thoughts on the visuals

Pretty sure that last scene of Fangs of Fortune's Episode 25 made me feral and has not given me a moment of peace since I saw it (where's the fanfic, y'all???), but it did highlight for me something distinct about Director Guo Jingming's visual storytelling that isn't often discussed: his actor blocking.

Like in My Journey to You, Guo often uses how the actors are positioned in relation to the set and one another to reveal something about their characters, and he then shifts them like pieces on a chess board to signify changes in their mental state and/or relationships. This directing choice really gives his scenes a sense of movement and tension because the characters literally end up in different positions than where they started. We see the change on screen as much as we hear it in the script.

At the beginning of the scene, we see Li Lun looming over Zhou Yichen, reveling in the latter's apparent defeat over being harassed for being a demon.

Even though Li Lun eventually kneels down, it is menacing and just as much a power move as when he was standing up.

But we instantly feel the switch in the flow of power within the conversation when the distance between the two actors gets smaller. It's like Li Lun is both compelled and repulsed by Yichen's defense of humans and his criticism of Li Lun's indiscriminate violence towards them.

So we know that Li Lun has lost control of the situation when he stands up again and leg kabedons Yichen, pinning him roughly against the wall. Unlike earlier in the conversation, he now has to resort to brute strength to repress Yichen, and we see that realization on Li Lun's anguished face.

SIDE NOTE: That little grunt and exhale of air from Yichen at that move? Sorry, my mind wandered. Moving on...

Up until this point, Yichen has been relatively calm, but when Li Lun goes too far by calling him a coward like Zhu Yan (big mistake to insult his man!), Yichen demonstrates his power and blasts him away from into the water.

Not only is Yichen now looming over Li Lun, they're literally not on the same level, the latter isolated and cast in darkness. His resentment and crimes have sunk him to such a level that Yichen can only see him as pitiful.

Li Lun's switch to Bai Jiu's form in the background as Yichen walks away reinforces this. As a child actor, Lester Lin is significantly smaller than Yan An, so the use of his body makes Li Lun look even weaker.

SIDE NOTE: What a devastating use of rack focus from Li Lun to Yichen, showing how his manipulation won't work on Yichen no matter how painful it must feel to see Xiao Jiu. The shallow depth of field weakens Li Lun's image (and therefore power) even further.

Finally, I love how this scene ends with Yichen walking past Li Lun who remains immobile in the water but eventually drags himself in the other direction. It's the perfect bookend to the start of the scene. Yichen moves beyond that barrier (Li Lun's body), looking forward into the future despite the challenges he will face, while Li Lun's stays behind, most likely choosing an even more self-destructive end to his tragic story.

God, I love this director even when his writing drives me up a wall.

[pickleskisser]

hii!! I really liked your pickles headcanons and the part about meeting his family was my favorite! if you have the time could I request hcs for meeting the family for the rest of the boys? if not the rest of them then just skwisgaar would be fine!

remember to drink water, eat a snack, and take plenty of breaks!

(ps can i be spade anon?)

HIIII !! Omg thank you sm I had a lot of fun with it lolz. And yeah I can so do that for you :p fair warning it's very improvised since info on these dude's parents are scarce but I hope it's enjoyable anyways ☆

Meeting the Parents HCs

Nathan Explosion

The one you have to worry least about, his parents are sweethearts.

Though his mom will have an eye on you both the whole time.

I feel like Nathan has a record of getting entangled with people who were not so good for him, so it isn't personal or anything she's just on the fence at first.

Once she realizes you're not like that, though, and genuinely love Nathan and, in turn, treat him how he deserves, she's alllllllll over you.

She's going to want your number, your Skype, your Facebook, everything.

She'll pull out the baby pictures too. It greatly embarrasses your brutal boyfriend.

His dad would be the same, on the fence a little, but he overall trusts Nathan a little more.

He might try to plan a fishing trip, though, and Nathan is going to be all over that, so good luck getting out of that if you viscerally dislike fishing.

Overall, don't sweat it! As long as you treat their boy right, they love you, and you might as well be family now.

Toki Wartooth

Oh boy. So I'm not sure you could ever really meet his parents?

He doesn't like talking about them. You probably didn't even learn anything about them until late in your relationship.

If you were to hypothetically meet them, well, you're only meeting his mom.

Aslaug would be dead at this point so there wouldn't be much of an option.

Anja is a cold woman with high unachievable standards. So don't take the fact she won't even speak to you too personally.

If you're religious in the Christian sense, you might have a small chance of approval… but then again, you're dating Toki Wartooth of Dethklok, and you had to learn about him somewhere. Goddamn devil music.

Don't even waste your breath. All that matters is how much you and Toki love each other.

William Murderface

It's not willing on his part at all.

Stella is showing up unannounced, ranting and raving about not telling her he finally got hitched, and he must just want her to die or something.

He's snippy and miserable the whole time. Not miserable in the same sense Pickles was, he's more annoyed than anything.

Stella isn't the most gentle woman. She's abrasive and loud and can be partial to physical violence, but she does care a little bit about her grandson.

She really sucks at showing it, and definitely fucked him up with her parenting style (if his emotional constipation and short fuse didn't make that clear) but she did step up when his parents died instead of letting him go through the system, so.

All this to say, she's giving you a shotgun talk.

William will pry it out of her hands, of course, and curse her out for it, but it's happening !!

After that, though, don't worry, you're family now. Actually, maybe you should worry.

This means that whatever small politeness she whipped up before is long gone, you're a Murderface now, you are going to get treated like one.

Although William couldn't care less about his grandmother's opinion, he cares about yours. So, to see you embracing his family in full stride without getting scared off is more than heartwarming to him.

Skwisgaar Skwigelf

Again, it's fully unwilling on his end. It would honestly have to be something you want.

I think it's needless to say his relationship with his mom is weird. He truthfully wouldn't mind never seeing her again, especially after the events of fatherklok.

But again, if you really, really, want it then, yeah, he'll take you down to Sweden.

Surfetta doesn't have much of an opinion on you. What you are to her son is no concern to her.

She's most likely tipsy the whole time and disappearing for periods at a time.

The whole thing will feel like a waste of time, and Skwisgaar is stressed.

Don't worry he just needs to play his Thunderhorse for a few hours, and maybe a little bit of laying on top of you with his head on your chest listening to the sound of your heartbeat… just a little.

[archetypal-archivist]

A Little World of Our Own- P. 1

Your eyes blink open, haze clouding your vision for a minute before consciousness reasserts itself and you awaken for real. It takes a moment longer for you to register the roughness of the sheets under your hands and the warmth trapping you as you lie in what must be your bed.

It's sticky and hot and you must have been lying here a long time, so you sit up, sore body punishing you for your choice. A glance around the room tells you little more, with stone and mortar walls, rough-hewn board floors, and a scattering of oil lamps across the mantle, larder, and the small table by your bedside. You find a clay mug of water there and you drain it immediately, suddenly parched.

Where... where are you? Another glance at the room and it hits that there really isn't much beyond this one room. The only door you can see seems to be the one outside and from your bed you spy a small stove and all the various bits and bobs that indicate that this is a space well lived-in, intended for every form of living. A cast off knitting project even peers at you from a bag hanging off your wardrobe, one stocking long since finished, the other halfway there.

Have you truly been living here long? This must be your bed, you wouldn't be sleeping in it if it weren't, but try as you might, you can't recall knowing how to knit, or cooking at the stove, or lighting all the lamps. You pause, breath catching in your throat.

You're not sure you remember your name.

How can this be your house if you don't even know your name? Your hands fist in the rough-spun cotton as you come to terms with your strange awakening, too overwhelmed to peer around further, eyes locked firmly on the floor.

There's a rug there. It's round, grey and white. The patterns look nice, if a bit abstract. You let your focus travel along the swoops and swirls long enough for the tension in your shoulders to ease and with a gusty sigh, you flop backwards, head hitting your lone pillow with a dull thump. The ceiling is about as exciting as your floor and you stare at that instead.

What do you know? Not much. The home you're in isn't yours, you're wearing- a glance down- a long-sleeved gingham nightdress in light green, and everything seems to be a lot older than you feel is appropriate. Oil lamps, really? Something about that just seems... inefficient.

You laugh at yourself for the thought, a little hysterical. Inefficient, really? The entire world is beyond your understanding and you feel that the lighting system is inefficient? What a way to wake up.

A shift and something crunches under your body, startling you into shifting over and pulling the sheets away to get a closer look. The fractured remains of what seems to be a gemstone peer up at you from the space by your waist and you gently collect the fragments, wary of the sharper edges and glittering dust.

Do broken gemstones follow the same rules as broken glass? You aren't sure but keep your sparkling hands well away from your face as you take a closer look.

Altogether, the fragments seem to make up the shape of an oval stone, silver like a diamond with smooth planes on the front and back. Despite knowing logically that you should be able to see your hand through the larger pieces given the stone's clarity, somehow the gem pieces remain totally opaque.

It's as you take up one of the larger pieces to hold it to the light from a nearby window that you hear the door open and your heart leaps into your throat, gaze still fixated on the fragment.

"Ah. So that's how it is."

The light does nothing, the silver sliver remains stubbornly clouded.

"That's a mage stone, in your hand. Given that it's broken, I don't think I'll be seeing the original owner of this place any time soon, so you may as well introduce yourself. You are this cottage's new owner and I'd hate to be rude to my new neighbor."

"I'm sorry, what?"

The man who meets your startled gaze is unlike anyone who you've ever seen before, and it's more than your lacking memory saying that. His eyes are the palest blue you've ever known, more like the gem shards in your hand than any shade found in a human face. Grey hair frames his expression in loose waves and though the cut of his outfit is simple, the white button-down shirt and neat black slacks are pressed and starched into an image of gentility.

A neat mole just to the lower left of his lips completes the look and it tugs up as he notices your ogling, a teasing grin following shortly after.

"Azul. Azul Ashengrotto. And you?"

You blink back to yourself, flushing at your shamelessness. "I- ah. I don't know? I woke up here and I can't remember a thing. You said this place is mine now? Where am I?"

He seems taken aback somehow and something twists in your gut as he looks away, grin morphing into something more bitter. You draw your knees up to your chest as Azul moves to sit at the foot of your bed, his gaze blank as he moves to roll up his sleeves in careful, practiced motions.

"You're my patient, and I, your doctor. I serve the whole town- Little Grove- but you've been in my care for the past month as I live nearby and the work was paid for in advance by your predecessor. I believe you'll be seeing me often in the future, if your words are to be believed."

You huff at the thought of this Azul thinking you a liar and his eyes flicker to you at the noise, crinkling in amusement.

"Yes yes, I know, stop pouting. In any case, your lack of memory may be a boon to you; a fresh start was your predecessor's wish and you can hardly get fresher than wiping your memory entirely."

Your mouth drops open, upset forgotten. "They did what? That's a thing?"

Azul stretches his legs out and leans back on his hands, tilting his head at you with a cool look. "Yes, that was my reaction when they brought it up with me. Magic exacts a price to match, not that it stopped them and I think my reaction only goaded them on. They were stubborn to a fault and that was the nail in their coffin; spite is a powerful motivator."

You blink in shock, leaning back against your headboard as you process that. Azul seems caught up in his memories, expression distant despite him looking right at you.

"Your predecessor moved into this cottage in Little Grove about a year or two back, then ignored the world in favor of their research. The money they could've earned anywhere else is double or triple what they earned here, but they persisted. I never asked and they never said, and within the year, they fell ill and could hardly leave the house. By the time I became of aware of the situation, it was too late."

"Then... why are you here?" You can't help but ask.

"Simple," Azul shrugs, the gesture strangely at odds with his starched appearance. "They left a pouch of money on my doorstep with a letter. Enough to care for them in their final weeks of life, instructions on what to do if they recognized me. And lastly, what to do if they... didn't."

Azul bows his head and looks at you from the corner of his eye, critical and bitter. You can't tell if the lingering sharpness is directed at you or himself and you hold your tongue, unsure of what to say. The implications make you feel ill.

"I won't apologize for all this, the fault lies solely with the person who's body you're wearing. I can only promise that I'll be here to help until the month's end, and from there you'll be on your own. For what it's worth, though-"

and Azul's gaze is a blistering, heated thing-

"I have never been one to fail. By the month's end, you'll be able to ensure your own happiness. I promise."

[newtness532]

did you know that pumpkins are 90% water?

[organised-disaster]

I can't be trusted. When I refer to "my babygirl" it could one of four people (and six entities)

A 16 year old boy

A ~15 year old girl

A plant

A grown ass man with a drinking problem

An agender ghost

A fat yellow dinosaur

[arolesbianism]

WHAT DO YOU MEAN ONI EARTH HAD SMOG SO BAD THEY COULDNT EVEN USE SOLAR ENERGY??? JUST FOUND THAT LOG AND. HEY???

YEAH I KNOW RIGHT most of the oni logs are so stuck within gravitas that it's easy to skip over the random little bits of fucked up world building, with the smog being my favorite piece cause it implies a whole fuckton of other environmental issues and it's suddenly like damn these guys were rly just living their lives while half suffocating huh

[wild-at-mind]

I feel like tags like these were inevitable on the post about people traumatising themselves for the greater good or w/e... There is SO much emphasis on posting on tumblr and other social media being so important and so useful and we must never stop. But I would like to counterargue with the idea that posting on social media (especially tumblr) constantly does very little/nothing. If that was true then the point here becomes meaningless.

[rooftops-are-for-towels]

Realizing that the hottification of skin marks and hair and all that and the increased desirability of all that fun jazz has become another body standard for people who do not have bodies that are "conventionally attractive" to look at enough already. Shout out to people with bodies with distributions of fat or lackthereof that's considered substandard that have no fun marks and tidbits bro

[elegyofthemoon]

listen i also think 2b is hot but also i am very very tired of walking into the tags every now and then only to see sexy art of her this is not what im here for im here for the existential crisis

[wowbright]

Somersaults!

[toytulini]

give me the strength not to google covid teeth rn lest i spiral into a Health Anxiety Meltdown about it during the night

[mildmayfoxe]

i was feeling absolutely awful earlier (in the brain) but made myself leave the house & take a little walk to to catch the closing sale at the local employee-owned art store before it’s closed for good and while there i got some different papers and, miraculously, some relief ink (fully expected it to be wiped out) (half price!) (see below) PLUS i also got the phone number of the manager who’s a friend of a friend & ive run into at markets- she told me she’d put more ink aside for me if i let her know which ones i was thinking about 😭

and then on my walk home i accumulated various food objects:

and then when i GOT home there was a box from my sister full of christmas gifts incl. LOTS of tea from both my siblings (i asked them for local chais) & a bunch of the snacks i’d got from nuts dot com for THEM that they apparently tried first & then sent to me

so all is not lost. peace & love on planet earth