#itchi vibes

[rocketbirdie]

zack lives au where he simply does not return to midgar and instead decides to move into a creepy old shack in the woods hundreds of miles from civilization

[shkika]

Hey Saint what do think about those who would rather stay in this world rather then leave it

scratch scratch

[skyloftian-nutcase]

Birdsong fills the air, a warm but pleasant breeze caressing Rusl’s face as he sits on the front stairs of his home. The scent of biscuits wafts out from the open door as Uli cooks, humming cheerily. Hana is with Colin, who is showing her all the frogs along the river while Link rests on his belly in the grass, watching Sera’s cat stalk some prey.

Rusl finds peace in little moments like this. He rubs his knuckles mindlessly, numbing out the sting from little cuts he acquired while working on a sword today. He smiles as he sees a wisp of straw in the boy’s hair, a dead giveaway that Link laid around at the ranch between chores to spend time with the goats. Hana is squealing excitedly while Colin holds a little frog in his hand, both equally thrilled with their find. The entire day is a welcome reprieve.

Rusl leans his head back, smiling up at the sky, thanking Ordona for protecting them, thanking Farore for making this beautiful land and his beautiful family.

It’s good to be home.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

I'm walking. Fast. The world is tilted. There's green peaking up from flat gray. Short, stubby moss. Like an ooze. Like the sidewalk is compressing it sideways. Persistent even in a concrete jungle. This little thing. This tiny thing. Reaching up toward the sun from under trampling feet. Toward a distant star. And I'm walking, but I'm light through a prism. Splitting seven different directions. A billion and a billion and a billion years brought this tiny crumpled organism to the crushing weight of my foot. And I want to scream and I want to run and I want to cry. Because it's beautiful and I'm worried I'm the only one who sees it. I'm worried it'll burn through me. I'm worried that when I walk this path for my hundred thousandth time, I won't see it like I did this first time. That my world will fall to ash again and I won't see the moss growing up between the seams in the sidewalk.

[rhymeswithfart]

Idk why but when watching the old UPA Dick Tracy cartoon I keep seeing the usual team-ups they have and thinking "oh they a couple" for some of them

[kaikree]

oompa loompa doopity do

[sqeedledob]

No Prompt, Just Drabble

I'll explore this later when I'm in a better headspace. Ezume has always been a character that is really just representing the perfect version of myself. And by perfect, I mean the character with no struggles, who always knows what to do and say. She's my Mary Sue. It's about damn time she isn't so perfect. I've sort of explored my emotions and frustrations with my characters before, but I think I'm going to start leaning all in with it.

Drabble below the break

Head in hands, breathing heavily and on the verge of tears… very ANGRY tears, Ezume stared at the numbers on her dice, the cards in front of her. The tea leaves on her pseudo windowsill mocking her with their strung out patterns. She’d been sitting here, shuffling her deck, pulling cards multiple times, only to get the same cards or cards with similar meanings. Dice rolls offering her the same doubles of numbers she’d been seeing all week, and the leaves? The last ditch effort for something different? No, no. It was all the same. Every time. 

Every fucking time. 

The same. 

She had to have broken some law of probability by now. 

Confirmation Bias maybe?

How can you have Bias to something you don’t even know or understand? Crazy. That’s the only answer. She’s looking too deep into this shit. 

But why won’t that itching under her skin go away if she’s telling herself she’s looking too far into it?

She feels like she’s running on a battery. Unable to stop moving, yet so fucking mentally drained.

It didn’t matter what form of divination she practiced, how many times she did it, hell even doing the process backwards didn’t change anything. Her Spirits were trying to tell her something, and no matter what?

She didn’t get it. 

Ezume had never been good at trusting her instincts or trusting that fate had something better in store for her. She was twelve years old when she was taken into The Underground, “rescued” by this organization that was hell bent on saving this desolate hellscape of a country she lived in. 

Ok, that wasn’t fair, she was interested in saving it as well. 

Sometimes she wished she could just talk to her guides. That maybe they’d make an exception for her, show themselves to her, tell her what she needed to know. 

It was nice to believe in the fantasy. 

It’s frustrating for her to know that she is on the precipice of understanding. The itching feeling under her skin telling her a storm is coming, everything around her telling her to have faith in what was coming.

But what is coming?

What is this warning? What is she being told? 

Why is it so hard?

[maddogmp3]

absolutely nothing can ruin a night quite like being sent tthe Wrong Fucking Medication and not realizing you got sent the Wrong Fucking Medication until you are holding it and looking at the label.

[imeminemp3]

i got BITTEN i assume it's mites as it's just itchy and i haven't died yet

[yanklbonkl]

feeling Off but cant say exactly why

[keeps-ache]

love music so much, i'm gonna make some noises about it !!

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[inkwell-intermission]

im so gald you like my mood boards, literally losing my mind that you've seen them at all ajhgfahsjfkasd <33333 love your art sm fr and your head canons are so correct and true

thank u sm !!! your moodboards are great they really capture the absurd essence of them all and im glad u see the vision !! great stuff for real !!

[rosereign]

I really hate when other people tell me peace when I know they’ve never chosen peace a day in their fucking life it’s just hypocritical. I can say it to people but it pisses me off hearing it

[charlie-in-a-beanie]

Besties I am suffering a little

[passionfruitmango]

I took a hit of my bowl since the dxm was kickin and threw up-a memoir