#i want to bury myself

[lilcookiebugg]

I recently saw like a TikTok where someone was again…again going after the Sonelise kiss. But making it where all the characters would be disgusted with it. Because they totally would be.

And it’s the caption that caught my attention. It being “If only the kiss was with Amy”.

Okay so.

The kiss wouldn’t be necrophilia if it was Amy.

The kiss wouldn’t be assault if it was Amy.

The kiss wouldn’t be hated if it was Amy.

The characters wouldn’t be disgusted and would cheer if it was Amy.

People wouldn’t regard it as the worst scene ever in the franchise if it was Amy.

Okay. Cool.

So it’s only those things when it’s Elise. And not those things when it’s Amy.

That totally makes sense.

Just to make this clear. I’m not trying to go after Amy at all. I’m just trying to understand why it’s only bad when Elise does it. But not when Amy does it.

It was like 5AMish when seeing the video. So like apologies if I sound salty or tired at all. I just didn’t really enjoy having such thing on my fyp.

[apocalypticsword]

Chap 118 comes out in about a week. How are we feeling party people?

[kabra-malvada]

I just got scammed and lost all my savings that's.... funny gahahhaahhahagaagahahhahaaggagagagagagagagagagagaagaahahahahahaahahahhahahahaha........ ha........

HA.

Its fine its not like I literally have no money to eat. It's fine. I'm fine............. ha. Ha... ha......

[hws-indias]

Was no one going to tell me I’ve had “clothe” misspelled on my blog title since 2020.

[fairiencarnate]

The way asking for financial help to pay rent feels soooooo degrading. I don't know how trust fund babies live with themselves

[wondersky]

He said I will search for you through time and space and we will meet again in a time called you.

I’m not crying 😭

A Time Called You (2023)

[hinamie]

so just know, I'm healing / even though it don't feel like it

insp

[fraternum-momentum]

fucking kill me

[unspuncreature]

howdy, y’all

i am scheduled for top surgery in just a few short months! i’ve wanted this surgery since i was 14, and i’m beyond stoked that it’s really truly finally happening

although i have a little in savings, i live paycheck to paycheck, and i need your help to keep the lights on while i’m recovering

click here to view my gofundme campaign! even a $5 or $10 gift goes a long way towards offsetting the costs of surgery not covered by my insurance provider and carrying me through recovery while i am unable to work

if you’re unable to donate right now, please share this post to your dashboard, with your personal trainer, on your nearest bathroom stall wall, or with that one 3 person group chat with the really specific name. you know the one i’m talking about

sincerely, thank you so much for taking the time to read and share and donate. this online space has been beyond important to me through transition, and i wouldn’t be the person i am today without you and your shitposts and meta and edits and fanart and fic and friendship

i love u guys :o)

[myuminji]

college au

Meryl is NOT the first person Vash visited and Wolfwood has had enough embarrassment for the day

and unofficially wife-d up with paper rings (congratulations!)

Vash holding Wolfwood's hands, realising that it's not as calloused, no, in fact, it's soft. Unharmed. Safe. And he's holding it. Both of his hands are holding it. And those hands are exchanging something as fragile as a paper ring, far off from what they're usually accustomed of holding in the past...

(He's holding Wolfwood's hand, he thinks again. It's soft. He wonders if he deserves to hold them.)

Except it's no longer the past, Vash knows that, and now they're here, the flimsy rings weighing heavy with the promise of tomorrows he could never hope or dream of having before. It's so comical to the point of bringing tears to his eyes.

If anyone had seen him crying that day he's blaming it on the damned ring.

(a.k.a. the college/reincarnation au, "we deserve a soft epilogue" ending I desperately need)

[corseque]

HIS REACTION IS SO CUTE HERE ASLDKHFASDF MY POOR BABY

this is what his expression looked what the conclave blew up. Being a trickster god SUCKS, you try to do your best but you're endlessly hounded by zany domino shenanigans

[turnipoddity]

this is so fucking stupid but someone said amanda’s saw ii haircut looks like sasuke and I can’t help myself

[lotusishere]

I can’t hide the truth much longer. I, Lotus, actually believe that Fitz is kinda funny. He’s not funny in the aspect of haha. He’s funny in the aspect that his side comments, rage rants and comebacks are so diabolical all I can do is laugh.

“Like how you knew about your mom?”

“Maybe don’t run away with the enemy next time.”

“And they’re eating it up-“

My favorites HAVE to be in flashback when Fitz was to seconds from committing mass murder because his mom and dad want to play house with Alvar. I would have been pissed too. Ain’t no way you’re gonna have a terrorist in my house. And what’s even crazier is that they looked at Fitz as if he was crazy for being upset. Ngl I was disappointed in Sophie for a bit when she was like “welllllll Alvar has memory loss-“ because if I was Fitz and I heard that I would have dragged her too. I wouldn’t have given TWO flying shits if he had no memories or not. He’s a terrorist and it’s told MANY TIMES that the right trigger can bring people back. I would not want to live with him in MY home. HELL NO. I’ll try to sleep and he’ll be in front of my bed. I would have jumped him a long time ago and I’m TIRED of people stopping Fitz.

“But pookie wookie bookie bear!!! You can’t hurt Alvar!!!! You’ll end up just like him!!!”

“*snaps fingers* fitzy Pooh please! Look at me 🥺 this isn’t you. If-if-if you do this… you’ll be no better than Neverseen.”

Personally he’s better than me cuz I would have been like “then slap butter on me and call me a biscuit because I don’t give two FUC-“

[still-a-morosexual-help]

(I haven't played twst in months but if my memory is serving me right:)

Malleus tends to take most things very literally right? He takes the straightforward path, direct instruction without much consideration for anything else etc etc He's also not at all good with any type of """modern slang"""

MC, from what little they talk, uses a lot of sarcasm and snark right?

But also the two of them have canonically spent much more time together talking than we get to see and Malleus actively seeks them out to have conversations

So anyway;

MC gets used to adding what are basically irl tone indicators to the end of their sentences whenever it's needed. Just an offhand "i'm not serious/not literally"

And one day during their regular nightly walks Malleus is doing his pouty face because he's just come back from some meeting or another (that he actually attended for once) and sure it's great that his friend is thoughtful enough to always make sure he's following the conversation but there are times with all the other little humans where sometimes things just don't make sense. Not that he cares of course! It doesn't matter to him what they're talking about, he doesn't care if he's included or anything.....just... it'd be polite (that's it!) if he was included

Which is what he says when they ask why he seems upset (even though he's not upset! Really!)

And casually they say "well I'll just have to clear it up for you everyday then"

And now as far as Malleus is concerned they're engaged

[torchickentacos]

i will always shout praises of bi4bi but given recent discourse I feel the need to say that I love bi4het too! I just love bisexuality in general in its many forms, and anyone who only likes it when it's 'queer enough' for them is biphobic. Bisexuals should be able to bring their LaMe CiShEt BoYfRiEnD to pride without being made to feel like spectators and outsiders to their own event.

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Outbreak Pt 3 (LU in Healthcare)

(Content warning, this is a plague fic, it will likely hit close to home, and there’s dark humor and character death in this part)

It started off as a whisper, but the whisper became a chatter, a groan, constant and disturbing and growing ever closer.

Cases were on the rise in the city, though the surrounding area seemed unaffected still, for now. City officials were growing concerned, and restrictions were starting to be enacted. People were asked to stay home, if possible. As for the hospital and squads…

Hyrule squinted at his email. "Wait. Didn't... didn't they say we could use alcohol wipes to clean the equipment?"

"Yeah," Mo called from the kitchenette in the station.

"Now it says we can only use bleach wipes."

Mo groaned. "Isn't that like the third policy change this week?"

"I'm still trying to figure out if we're doing a specific isolation truck or not anymore," Aurora mumbled. "Like we just had one truck dedicated to the high risk iso cases, and now we're getting so many calls for it that it's a moot point anyway."

"I think the last email said put plastic over everything for Arfy patients and then wipe everything down that you use," Mo replied.

"Wait, which email?"

Hyrule sighed. This was getting ridiculous. And he was getting just a little nervous. “When in doubt, just bleach everything, I guess.”

Aurora huffed. “Did you see the email about the respirators?”

“Which email?” Mo threw his hands in the air, exasperated. “I’ve got twenty new emails!”

“I suppose that means you’ll actually have to read them now,” Aurora noted with a snort.

“Do you all think it’ll get worse before it gets better?” Dawn asked, wringing her hands worriedly. “The OMD made it sound like that would be the case.”

“Our medical director knows more than I do,” Hyrule shrugged. “If he says it’s going to get worse—”

“No, he didn’t just say that, he said ‘it’s not a matter of if the wave hits us, but when,’” Aurora quoted, standing. “He scared the hell out of Dawn.”

“They’re pretty foreboding words,” Hyrule commented darkly, looking away. It was the main reason he was getting nervous. But he was also steeling himself. If they were in for a fight, he would face it head on.

“Okay, but what does any of this have to do with the email about the respirators?” Mo asked as he scrolled frantically through his email.

“Oh, we’re supposed to wear N95s now,” Aurora answered with a wave of her hand.

Hyrule blinked. “Wait. Aren’t—aren’t we supposed to get fit tested for those?”

“Oh, yeah,” Aurora nodded, rolling her eyes. “Here’s your official fit test: pick a mask that fits.”

“We’re all going to die, aren’t we?” Dawn questioned worriedly, hugging herself.

“Nobody’s died from Arfy yet, I don’t think,” Mo noted. “At least not here.”

“People have died,” Aurora corrected.

“Well, maybe we’ll die, then,” Mo amended.

Hyrule laughed while Aurora swatted his partner. Well… at least they’d die fighting. But he really hoped it wouldn’t get to that point.

While the rescue squads struggled to keep up with policies and slapped shoddy safety regulations into place, the hospital clamped down even further. Visitor policies had officially been revoked as of today, and it made all the providers somewhat uneasy.

In some aspects, it was helpful. In others, it made things that much harder.

Arfy patients were medical patients. Which meant the medical floor and ICU was quickly filling up while other parts of the hospital either maintained their quota or decreased as people stayed home. More and more, Four found himself floating to his friend’s ICU, and he felt fairly out of his depths about it. The one good thing was that he got to spend time with Dot. But as cases rose, so did the stress, the worry, and the heartache.

The ICU felt less like a unit where critically ill people got better and more like a place to go to die.

Four and Dot had the same patient assignment for four days in a row. It was the same assignment because nothing had changed with the patients. Intubated, sedated, paralyzed, some proned. The amount of sedation required to keep their patients under was far more than Four was used to, and it was insane how little it would take for their oxygen saturation to drop. Any semblance of activity in the body increased oxygen demand, and the instant oxygen demand increased, no amount of intervention from the ventilator seemed to help. ECMO was a word Four had hardly heard in his trauma ICU, but he heard it on a near daily basis now, being considered at rounds, being initiated with someone else’s patient.

Four was exhausted. His face was breaking out from wearing a respirator for twelve hours at a time. His feet and knees and hips hurt from standing in isolation rooms for three to four hours at a time trying to cluster all his care. And now, with the visitor restriction enacted…

Visitors were hit or miss, particularly in Four’s world. Trauma precipitated drama, and while family could be infinitely helpful and supportive, he’d also seen things go awry, had to deescalate fights or call security. In some aspects, he was thankful there were no visitors while all of this was happening; he was tired of having to explain that yes, you have to wear this gown and gloves and mask, no you can’t kiss your loved one while they’re intubated and sedated with a contagious disease… but still. He couldn’t imagine how hard it was on the family - the patients were sedated to the point that they shouldn’t be aware of anything, but the family had to agonize over the matter at home.

He didn’t like it. He understand the logic. But he didn’t like it.

And so here he sat, holding a patient’s hand while they withdrew care. Here he sat, being the only witness to someone’s last breaths while their family mourned from afar.

Four watched the heart rate steadily drop. He watched the oxygen saturation plummet. He muted the red alarms as the monitor screamed that his patient was dying, that something should be done, like an accusation and call to arms when Four knew this particular fight was over.

He wasn’t a particularly religious person, but he said a prayer for the patient and the family either way. He found himself praying a lot these days, honestly.

While the visitor policy took its toll inside the frame of work, the restrictions both inside and outside the hospital were causing further stress on everyone. Warriors had basically banned Wind from seeing him, opting to stay with Time and Malon instead, leaving the kid in the apartment. He brought food deliveries to the door, asked if Wind needed anything, but he always did so when Wind wasn’t awake - the teenager had swore up and down that if anybody got Arfy he’d take care of them, and Warriors was terrified of that promise as it was basically a threat. Time agreed that Wind didn’t need to get involved, much to the teenager’s chagrin, and Wind found himself already struggling from the loneliness and the frustration of trying to study for classes online when nobody knew what they were doing or how long this would last.

Meanwhile, Wild sat in his room, fingers aimlessly tracing over each other, the smell of bleach so fresh in his nose from scrubbing everything relentlessly for hours on end that he might as well have inhaled a bottle of it. His chest hurt. Not to mention that new disinfectant they were told to use made him cough a lot.

And he worried. Because… it had been a few days since he’d seen his father. Legend had given him updates through his sister (and made Wild swear not to tell anyone about her), and it had sounded like he was improving as expected. But now, he… the rest of the family…

It felt like a blessing and a curse. It was a guarantee that Wild couldn’t run into his mother or sister by accident, but it was also a situation that his mind screamed that he address.

He couldn’t just… he couldn’t just leave his father isolated and alone recovering in the hospital in the midst of an outbreak. He couldn’t.

But what if visiting him made things so much worse? What if it stressed his father’s recovering heart? What if it triggered more traumatic memories for Wild? He was terrified of getting anywhere near the man while he was awake, but his heart screamed that he go to him.

Wild refused to be a coward. And he refused to be heartless, despite how anxious this entire situation made him, despite how his mind screamed he keep away. So that night, when he got on to work, he took a delivery to the cardiovascular ICU and paused in front of a doorway, looking hopefully for a familiar nurse.

“Link? Wild?”

Jumping, Wild turned around to see the nurse in question, watching him scrutinously. She smiled (or at least, he assumed she did, based on how her eye crinkled above her mask) in recognition. “I thought it was you. You here to see your dad?”

Wild swallowed and nodded.

“Good, because the drama I’ve been trying to avoid has been driving me insane,” Legend’s sister said lightheartedly, but despite the casualness of her tone, the words sank into Wild’s stomach like a stone.

“Drama?” He questioned quietly.

“Nothing like… bad, I suppose, but still,” the nurse explained. “I’d be in there taking care of him and overhear him talking to his wife and he’d mention that he swore he saw you. I’m not entirely sure she’s convinced. She seems hopeful, though. But I figured it was best not to bring it up myself since I, ah, don’t know what’s going on.”

Wild felt his blood freeze. His father remembered? And he’d told his mother?

Great. This was… this was just great.

“Go see him,” Legend’s sister prompted gently. “I can tell he loves you very much and just wants to know you’re ok.”

Wild’s eyes unexpectedly burned with tears in an instant, and he was grateful he was wearing a mask to hide his expression. He nodded, hesitantly making his way towards the room.

It all seemed so normal, seeing his father sitting in a recliner looking at his phone. Wild wasn’t even entirely sure he’d recovered memories of his father like that, but somehow it seemed familiar. Abel hadn’t noticed him yet, engrossed in whatever he was looking at, brow slightly furrowed. That expression drew memories, a familiar scrutiny that he would often give Wild himself or his sister, a quiet concern and sternness that made Wild want to stiffen up and simultaneously run to him.

Damn it all, he’d missed him.

Wild swallowed his fears and stepped forward, hoping that this wouldn’t be a disaster. He knocked on the door, initially so quietly that his father didn’t hear him over the chatter of the news on the television. He knocked again.

His father looked up. Stared a moment. Went a shade paler.

Wild hastily stepped forward. “W-wait, don’t get worked up—”

His father stood, seeming mostly steady on his feet, and tried to walk to him, heedless of the cords and oxygen tubing attached, and Wild hastily met him part of the way before he ripped everything out of the wall. Abel immediately pulled him to his chest in the tightest hug Wild had ever felt, and…

And Link sank into the embrace, crying.