#and maybe they visited me in my dream

[cnlyfans]

"  i  thought  that  after  ...  "  what  they  shared  ,  what  she  gave  to  him  on  a  silver  platter  ,  "  that  it  kind  of  meant  we  were  together  .  "  so  why  the  hell  wouldn't  he  tell  her  about  the  party  he threw  ?  the  one  she  had  to  find  out  about  through  random  snapchat  stories  .  "  did  i  do  something  ?  " / @dogsrotten

[allioaro]

I had a dream that Idia could morph his hair into different shapes at will and I immediately asked him to do this

[vse-kar-vem]

together in every universe. or something

[mint-is-here]

not the type of thing i normally post but my brain decided to start missing the dsmp yesterday so i drew ranboo

i was going to draw ghostbur but i couldnt find a pose that i liked so ranboo the beloved it is

[pinkgrapefloyd]

tory nichols x lady macbeth monologue

[meatexe]

im always obsessed with ur dad posts ofc i'll indulge u!!! is there anything u have ever wanted to do with ur dad but haven't yet?

eeeeee umm i rly wanna do some knifeplay um i rly rly rly want them to carve their name into my hip or under one of my tits >_< also wanna negotiate some sort of kidnapping long term free use scene maybe where they can keep me gagged n chained to the bed n do whatever they want to me n i cant even use the bathroom without them walking me there um just for maybe a day or two or the rest of my life i dunno…………

[themintman]

dude I had a dream or message from god or smthn the other night I need to jot down right fucking now omg

I was like fucking around in beacon town or smthn and started bawling my eyes out in front of Nurm cause I failed my final math exam and was scared for the future. He put his hands on my shoulders and bent down to my level. "What do you want to do when your older?" I was confused so I answered honestly - an artist or an art teacher, maybe work on cartoons. "So why are you crying over math? You don't need to be a genius to succeed." And then I woke up???

I think about it a lot.

[bewitching-666]

🥲

[naamahdarling]

.

[weirdbabs]

anyway sometimes youre social and out going and love to talk to/interact w people and then one of your best friends kisses on the mouth you when youre seven and you ask her why she did that and she tells you that its just what best friends do! and you say. well. okay but can you not do that? and then she starts telling everyone that youre weird and starts making you an outcast but its okay bc you still have other friends. and then she wants to be your friend again bc she says never found you weird thats just what scarlet said and you accept her back bc youre best friends of course you will. and she asks you who you like and you tell her and she starts flirting w him and pursuing him and youre confused bc you told her you liked him and also youre all 8. and then he leaves the school and she decided your weird again and you enter this cycle where shes nice to you and wants you to stop hanging out w your other friends and then suddenly wants nothing to do with you leaving you to find new people to hang out w, but you go to a private school and theres no new blood added in and eventually nobody wants anything to do w you and then your 12 and shes your friend again and shes telling you all about her new boyfriend and you dont really care about that but youre feigning interest bc you dont want her to think youre weird and when you ask about him a week later she tells you she dumped him and hes dumb and pretty soon after she stops talking to you at all. and then youre 14 and youre starting high school and having to learn how to socialize w other kids again

[2024skin]

Thinking about the gay Mormon kid I met in middle school and how all the other Mormons were convinced he was gay-faking and actually straight

[ronsenburg]

This WIP Wednesday is brought to you by that one poll blog that always asks: would polyamory have saved them? (The answer here is no, not really, but it might not hurt to try.)

“Why me, Sylvain?” Dorothea asked on the night of his twelth and final proposal.

The war had been over for nearly eighteen months, by then, but the streets of Enbarr still resembled the crumbling remains of the battlefield they’d been ultimately reduced to. Memories of violence and death had been hastily plastered over the backdrop of her previous life; after everything that had happened, after everything she’d done, it was far too painful to stay. So Dorothea had made a new home in Fhirdiad, teaching all the freshly orphaned little girls to sing and shivering through even the most mild of those first autumn days. It was Sylvain who had given her the first winter cloak she would wear in the kingdom, a gift on the day of his fourth proposal. The thick wool was dyed an indigo blue so deep that it was nearly purple, the inside fully trimmed in fine black ermine. She sat with it pulled close around her that night, still cold despite the fire and the thick stone walls that separated them from the late winter chill. This little library was one of Sylvain’s favorites, a glorified storeroom filled to the brim with dusty accounts of war that no one ever bothered to open. She’d spent more evenings in this room, in this chair, than she could count, now.

“There are plenty of women out there who would gladly overlook the occasional dalliance in exchange for a title.”

“You know I’m not that person anymore,” Sylvain replied, voice pained. The light from the dying fire beside them caught the shine of his eyes as he spoke. She watched as he dragged a hand roughly across them before burying his fingers back into the strands of his already disheveled hair. It was the most distraught Dorothea had ever seen him—and it was also the most honest. This was exactly the candor she’d been asking for since the night of his third proposal, when she’d realized that under all the flirting and the banter he used to dull the actual meaning of his words, Sylvain was actually sincere. She hadn’t anticipated just how difficult it would be for him to arrive here… or the guilt she would feel watching him struggle this way. “That’s what I’m trying to tell you. It isn’t a dalliance. It’s Felix.”

Dorothea shook her head softly. “I don’t know what that’s supposed to mean.”

Only, she thought she might. Maybe it was because she was an outsider, one of the few members of their little group not woven tightly among the others with years of family acquaintance or political affiliation. Maybe she was simply better at reading people. But she’d seen all the little looks and lingering touches as though they were stage directions written in the margins of a script. A love story in three acts. It was absurd to imagine she was the only one to notice. The quiet murmurs traded just beyond the circle of the party’s campfire. The look on Sylvain’s face the first time he’d come galloping out of some magically charged cloud of smoke with Felix’s unconscious body draped across the saddle.

The Sylvain of the present reminded her a bit of the man she’d seen, then. Pale and so, so desperate for her understanding. This wasn’t the poet attempting to immortalize the splendor of a great love; this was the face of someone truly haunted.

“I don’t think I can live without him, Thea,” he murmured, stricken. “Goddess knows I’ve tried to.”

And there it was, in all its gore and agony. The final bits of gossamer and tulle unwound, the evening’s makeup all washed away. Gone was the character from their academy days; all that was left before her, now, was Sylvain.

Dorothea sighed, reaching out to clasp his larger hands between her own. “Have you considered that marrying Felix might solve—“

“I can’t marry Felix,” Sylvain interrupted with a shake of his head. “Not for the reasons you’re thinking, either. It… it doesn’t work, between us. Not really. Not for long.”

[dragscore]

baby gurl

[pennyserenade]

getting a tattoo for the x files we're about to make it official babes

[the-acid-pear]

why the hell was i in california in my dream who the fuck sent me to california