#at its peak

[fictionalred]

Native language: ✔

Creepy moves: ✔

Beats: ✔

Weird flute guy: ✔

[michirukaioureincarnate]

i hope she's out there, someplace somewhere, looking for me too ✧

I'm happy as I am but how much happier would I be If you were here to be happy with me

You can be sad too around me or with me

I want all of you even if you upset me

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Today's playlist: Die For You - Joji ♬ | Blue Side - j-hope ♬

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~ Miki | Myca ✧

[senawashere]

Just held a baby who looks like Lewis and literally prayed out loud "i hope my baby looks like you"

[darealsaltysam]

DARYL GETTING TO TALK WITH CAROL <3333 all is good in the world

[dapper-lil-arts]

Can we talk about the kind of woman Applejack attracts.

[sasswonfp]

CHICAGOAN HATSUNE MIKU. Specifically the winter version <3. (alt text provided! :3)

[pokimoko]

I can't keep being fundamentally changed as a person by animated movies, it's just not sustainable.

[air3d3lalm3na]

Written like a guy who knows exactly the audience that is buying his books and paying his rent.

Holy shit, Dr. Tingle, go OFF!!!!

[heartorbit]

[artsarasp]

I decided to headcanon that while SQQ has wife-beamed everyone, SQH actually got into everyone's pants at least once.

It's 1 am, and instead of sleeping, I decided to draw this dumb thing.

[i984]

If I make like my own fic review for this one would that be weird? I HAVE SO MUCH TO TALK ABOUT 😭😭😭😭

Blazing Promises

|Pairing|: Wednesday Addams x gender neutral reader

|Warnings|: Hurt so much hurt God pls help our poor souls, Wednesday has severe relationship trauma because of a certain normie, comfort at the end tho, kiss the pain away, you both cry in this one, tell me if I should add more warnings

|Summary|: Wednesday Addams breaks down in front of you.

|A/n|: Here is the last chapter to the mini series, check end of fic and replies for more. Song is I Don't Want to Miss a Thing by Aerosmith

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

Terrible.

That's the word for how you look right now.

And that's also the word to describe what Wednesday had done to you. She knows this, so as she stands outside your door looking at your puffed-up eyes and your quivering lips, her feet dread to take a step.

Get inside. Just do it. Now.

So she did. Her gaze tears away from yours to the floor, and she shuffled across your room. The space feels vast. Suffocating. What had she done?

She noticed the sweaters first. Her sweaters sprawled across your bed. Then the tissues—you quickly pick them away and throw them into the bin near your desk. Atop your desk, the trigonometry workbook is still there where she left it; the pages closed before much is filled in.

The room was dark, save for the dim light from your stained window. Somehow that made Wednesday feels tense. She doesn't like this. She doesn't like you. Not in this state. 

"What did you come here for?"

Your voice was hoarse. You must've been crying.

"I wanted to talk."

Her voice was frail. She felt weak. 

You kept your distance from Wednesday. Like you were scared of her, revolted of her. And you should be. After all, she'd hurt you.

Say it. It's now or never. 

"I'm sorry."

You can hear the strain in her voice—like she had to shoot her ego down with a silver bullet. Like it was hard for her to even say she was sorry. To show that she's apologetic.

"You should be."

And Wednesday can see the agony, the rage in your features. Your chest was heaving while you pressed your lips into a thin line. You were trying to keep your cool, to not scream at her; her words, her actions, the foolishness that comes with it.

You looked like you'd been robbed of your vitality, your strength. And the sight ripped a giant hole in Wednesday's heart. How could she hurt you that badly? You give her honey, and she feeds you poison. Wednesday feels a terrible weight pressing her shoulders; thick fog enfolds her mind.

You were her light. Her flame. But now it's flickering, and Wednesday fears herself getting plunged into darkness. The kind she has grown abhorring.

And though Wednesday's little black heart wrenched and twisted at the coldness in your voice, she couldn't bring herself to show it. Show how much it hurts her. Because she knows she deserves every sting and burns that blazes her entire being now; you must've suffered through worse. 

"I know," Wednesday feels like her skull was about to bust open, "and I..." She couldn't find her words, and it was killing her. It was unfair that she'd put herself into this position, a conversation she couldn't finish. A sentence she can't end.

"You what, Wednesday? I don't have all night."

Run. Or stab your heart and pull the blade out. Do something.

But she did neither. She did nothing. Wednesday only stands there, her body slumped in defeat. 

Defeat, she couldn't admit it. Succumbing to it would mean losing herself. Losing you. Did she already lose you?

Wednesday lets out a shaky breath, her fingers messing with the hem of her black shirt. Her mouth opens and closes a couple of times before she speaks, "I feel things," and she stole a quick glance your way, "for you."

Was that enough for you to understand?

"What things, Wednesday? Because I thought we felt things before, and you said those things weren't true."

You were pricking needles to her skin; the truth carried in your words slitting open wounds in her mind. Was this what you felt the last time you were with her in this room? Oh, death. Even death wouldn't bring her the sweet relief from this torment.

"I don't know." 

You scoff into the room at that. "Of course, you don't."

Wednesday feels herself shrinking in place. She feels small, and she wants to give up. But even that feels wrong. She doesn't know what to do.

Just say anything. Choke yourself if you have to. Jump off the balcony after all this is over. But right now, talk.

"I feel things," Wednesday tries again, "things that aren't clear, aren't simple." She looks up to see you staring at the wall, unable to face her or her words. Maybe that would make this easier.

"Things I've found in countless pieces of literature, books, and poems. In music, in rhythm, in harmony. In people, in their homes, and in their voices."

Wednesday doesn't know where she's headed with all this. But she knows she has to speak, however confusing and debilitating it might be. Her feet staggered front a few inches.

"I'm scared. Because I thought I've been here before." And you look at her now, really look. Vulnerable. She looks like she's about to crumble if you speak a word.

So you don't. You listen.

"I'm scared. Because the last time I was here, I was wrong." Wednesday felt her vision blurring, and she almost didn't care. Almost.

"Because I don't know what I'm feeling, and though I have a sneaking suspicion of what it is-" she paused, her eyes scanning your face, searching for any trace of judgment on it, "-I'm afraid I would be wrong."

You take a step in Wednesday's direction. It felt like the right thing to do.

"I'm afraid I'll hurt you," a tear rolled down the raven's freckle-painted cheek.

"I'll hurt me."

Her voice was barely above a whisper, and Wednesday knew she was one word away from combusting in tears. It feels hot. The blaze consumed her body, her mind. It threatens her to crumble, to sink, to wither. 

And so she did. She had said it all; her fears, her deepest secrets to the only person she cared about. You. 

Her weakness, now you hold the key to her doom. If you wanted to, you could kill her. And she'd let you. Wednesday feels her knees buckle and fail her, body landing with a thud on your floor.

You rush to Wednesday's side, hands coming to clutch her body. Now you're both set on fire. The tears did nothing. It was just there, staining both of your clothes now.

"Shh, it's okay, it's okay," you hug Wednesday like there's no tomorrow, like this was the last time you'll feel her close to you, "I understand now."

She's in pain. She's in agony. She hurt you because she thought you would hurt her.

But you would never.

What sounded like hiccups turns into painful wails; Wednesday's cries tear through the thick, stifling air, slowly dispersing it as you join her. Your hand patted her back tentatively in fear that the act would break her even more.

But she pushes herself to you, burying her head in the crooks of your neck. You can feel her tears drop and wet your side as she screams openly to your shirt, the sound of it muffled.

It feels messy, like you both are melting into each other. Your bodies are drenched in sweat, but neither of you wants to let go. 

You want her. She wants you. 

The doubt was gone.

You press your foreheads together, and Wednesday still has her eyes closed. It's red and puffy, and you're sure yours are too. She looks terrible. And pretty.

You forgive the pain because she has let you in. 

Her breathing starts to even out, and you can feel her muscles relaxing. You're both in the eye of the storm; there was only peace, quiet, and silence.

Then, familiar melodies played. The song you heard coming from outside your window earlier that evening. The same song you cried to alone—just moments ago.

I could stay awake just to hear you breathing

You take Wednesday's hand in yours. It feels warm.

Watch you smile while you are sleeping

She shifts in her seat, intertwining her fingers with yours.

While you're far away and dreaming

You lift her hand and kiss her knuckles.

I could spend my life in this sweet surrender

She opens her eyes.

I could stay lost in this moment forever

Wednesday is now looking at you. 

Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure

Her gaze was kind, though bittersweet.

Don't want to close my eyes

You hum to the tune.

I don't want to fall asleep

She listens.

'Cause I'd miss you baby

You smiled.

And I don't want to miss a thing

She whispers the words to you.

At that moment, it felt perfect. Two broken fools, sitting on hard cold wooden floors. It was messy, but it was right. You belong together.

"I held that damned boom box above my head not because I wanted to," Wednesday rasps, "Enid forced me, just so you know."

Giggles burst from your lungs. A red coat now paints Wednesday's cheeks. 

"I didn't know you did that." You smiled at her; it was soft and teasing.

"Shut up. I hate you."

Wednesday grasps your hand tightly as if she's afraid you'll pull back; her gaze doesn't dare to falter from yours. 

"I love you too," and you see the corner of Wednesday's lips twitch, "I really do."

A mutual understanding. An exhale of relief.

"Promise?"

You press your lips to hers; it's soft and gentle, dizzying and passionate. It was light as a feather, sweet as cotton candy. It was strong like waves, burning like an inferno. You've become one and the same; servants of Aphrodite. It was a pledge, an oath—though unspoken—that you'll never leave her side, never betray her. 

The shade, the scarlet, the tricks, the echoes. 

"Promise."

· · ─────── ·𖥸· ─────── · ·

|A/n2|: Thank you so much for going through this mini journey with me, I poured my heart out for this one, I hope you enjoy reading as much as I did writing it.

[hyolks]

hey wait why are there only short people at this drive in

[chloesimaginationthings]

FNAF movie Mike is suspicious of Lefty…

[somie]

my default doodle setting has been technoblade for the past two months

[ruscha]

TWIN PEAKS 2.20 — "The Path to the Black Lodge"

[freshbaked-bread]

panel redraw (but i made them hold hands)