#its kinda sad tho

[sleepis4theweak]

I'M SEEING MUTANT MAYHEM TOMORROW TOMORROW HEHEHEHEHEHHEHEHEHHEHEHEH FINALLY I THOUGHT I WAS NEVER GOING TO BE ABLE TO SEE IT YAYYYY

[tobenaii]

sometimes i miss playing dbd and apex but then i try em out for a couple rounds n am forcefully reminded why i quit in the first place

[sheyfu]

sunday loves it when you cradle his head close to your chest; the warmth that surrounds him, as well as the sound of your heartbeat, give him a sense of comfort.

he also loves it when you litter his face with kisses; the way your lips touch every surface of his skin, the way giggles accompany every kiss you plant, as well as the way you get 'cuteness agression' and eventually start squishing his cheeks give him the slice of life he's been craving.

it makes him wonder if he truly deserves your love.

he gets a kiss and a sulky you whenever he questions himself.

anyways, did i also mention he loves it when you touch his wings? yeah, he really does. he gets all shy and flustered every time he allows you to touch them. (he loves it though).

sunday also loves it when you wake him up. there's just something so domestic about it that makes him want to marry you right then and there.

are there more things sunday loves about you? hmmm well,

he loves how youre the center of his universe. everywhere he goes, everything he sees, and everything he hears remind him of you.

he also loves how youre in every dream he's been into. whether it'd be venturing the land of penacony or even the most random dreams like that one time where he dreamt of aventurine and the trailblazer break dancing, you were always there, alive and well.

(sunday would never admit it out loud, but he really enjoyed the display of foolery from the two)

everytime you smile at him, the world seems to light up.

everytime you stay up with him while he does his neverending paperwork, makes him question if he truly deserves your love.

he gets more kisses but a much sulkier you after that

everytime you remind him that you chose him, it makes him feel like the luckiest guy in the whole entire world.

every word, every action, everything you do for him is accompanied by your assurance and warmth.

yet, as he kneels down in front of a sea of flowers, your portrait in the middle of it, he wonders if he really did deserve you.

he waits for your kiss this time.

[medicalunprofessional]

neighborhood watch

[facelessmime]

Some silly Merder Drones Au doodles!

[carpathiians]

i can't say goodbye

bonus javier sketch :)

[xylofondue]

NINJAGO HEADCANNONS #3?

Cole legit went on a diet for a time after season 7 because of all the jokes abt him

Also Geo totally helps with body dysmorphia

[mo-ok]

✈️🌊🐬 blue 🐬🌊✈️

🌠

[koszmarnybudyn]

Juno deserves a little broding, as a treat.

[luck-of-the-drawings]

OH ARTHUR BENNETT.. such a gorgeous and intriguing character. terribly burdened by a GRUESOME set of crimes, his light suffocated by a HEAVY century of GUILT. so tragic, so dark and broody, and yet PAINFULLY awkward in any social setting ever

[olasketches]

me and like two other sukuna stans making posts about how miserable he is

[sunsetsandsunshine]

Imma just wait until TOTTMNT comes out on my very trusty (and very legal) site because y’all gmfu if you think I’m using Paramount 😬🤚🏾

Have a Leo tiktok for your troubles 🫶🏾💗

[satorugojoswiife]

don't think or talk about gojo for one (1) day challenge (FAILED)

[cyanide-sippy-cup]

Is it weird to admit I actually miss the shitty filter era? Idk the Conception Saga™ was just charming. Just a cool lil indie project growing in real time. Watching everyone post their auditions, the old cast reveal/bonding videos, original versions of all the songs (I for one will forever be mourning the mildly different original Warriors of the Mind lyrics). I know it's "cringe" but the TikTok eye filters/thematic lighting combination was kind of a vibe. It's like a little nostalgic memory to look back on from the absolute hype era we're in now.

[lollytea]

I found some pictures of me from 2019 and I'm experiencing such indescribable emotions

[wilsons-three-legged-siamese]

another fic of mine woah 😩

fandom; house md

can be interpreted as non slah or slah between house/wilson

summery; wilson is dying, being taken care of a person. but wilson cant remember who they are.

word count; 1.3k

tw; major character death.

a/n: i dont have ao3 so it shall not be put up on there. if it is notify me, ill say if i have given permission as if someone asks i probably will say yes.

this was based on the song "rises the moon - liana flores"

rises the moon.

days seem sometimes as if they'll never end.

its august. the 20th if we're being exact. coming to the close of summer and the opening of autumn, usually being my favourite time of the year. cozy sweaters, warm socks and scarfs, the perfect weather. usually sunny with a nice breeze. well, i wish i could enjoy it. instead, im stuck in bed, my breathing laboured and my body shaking. though, this year, summer was my favourite.. june. i really enjoyed that, when i could walk without aid and just, enjoy life. ever since mid july, ive been deteriorating quicker than an abandoned building, which has been agonising. i want the pain to go away, please. it hurts..

but i dont want to die.

from the bedroom, i hear the singing voice again, a soothing melody. their voice smooth and deep. i sigh softly, it being a sort of comfort for me, knowing at least someone was there and i wasn't alone. their humming and muffled singing drowns out the continuous beeping of the heart monitor besides me. they had stolen the machine after faking being ill in a walk-in clinic, once the doctor had done to complain to the dean about them being an ass, they smuggled the monitor and brought it back. the good ol' days hm? that day was probably the most ive complained and laughed for a long, long time.

a mass than sat on the bed, the weight shifting slightly on the mattress. i ket out an involuntary groan, my back being slightly unsupported.

"hey, i made some broth for you.. its 1, and i think you should at least try and drink it for me," they murmured.

the bowl, of what i assume was broth, was set down on the small table besides me. soon enough, long, lanky arms were wrapped around my middle, gently pulling me up to sit up. wait.. what time did they say again.. 1 was it? only.. 1?

the sun digs its heels to taunt you.

the rim of the bowl was scarcely pressed to my lips, the bowl being slightly hot. i signal them to tip it a little so i can take a sip. and so i do. and holy shit..

thats fucking amazing.

the warm, soupy liquid runs down my throat, a sort of feeling i dont get that often, especially being warm. the way he flavours mix together is phenomenal, the spices and the subtle beef. its flavourful, but not enough to freak my taste buds out, which happens all too often now.

"is it okay?" they ask, their voice soft and gentle.

i hum with a slight nod.

but after sunlit days, one thing stays the same:

rises the moon.

days fade into a watercolour blur.

its been.. maybe a week? my sense of time is so off, it could be a week for a few days.. lets say its been a few days - to make me feel better. im now slipping in and out of consciousness, which is concerning in itself. i dont know how long im out for at a time. theyve been becoming more and more worried about me. i mean, there was always an elephant in the room, hell even when i was first diagnosed. but, the elephant has been growing larger and larger than before, making it hard to ignore. we have to adress it sometime.

but its hard to breathe.

then im awoken by a coughing fit.

it shakes my whole body, racking everything as i shut my eyes tight, desperately trying not to wake them up behind me. but, of course they woke up, they always do. i tried to savour the two, lanky but muscular arms around my abdomen, as they were warm and comforting, but soon, all i could feel was pain.

"are you okay?" they ask, their voice still a bit groggy from sleep.

i hum, my voice still hoarse even though i barely made a sound.

this just reminds me of them, i swear something to do with an infarction to the leg. but i cant quite remember.. or remember them.. their face is slightly recognisable, but not by a lot at all. my memorys been wracked up.. pisses me off, i wanna know whos caring for me. i wanna thank them, using their name, recogising their face.

memories swim up and haunt me.

"hmm.. mm!" i hum, trying to catch their attention.

they run over, quickly turning me on my side and holding the bucket to my mouth. i start to cry as i retch, vomiting harshly into the bucket, they rub my back gently, mumbling words of encouragement and reassurance softly to me. finally, i stop. glancing down at the small puddle of bile and saliva, i frown slightly.

look into the lake, shimmering like smoke.

i look into their eyes. my, coffee like brown into their, ocean like blue. scared and helpless meet concerned and determined. they run their skinny, pianist fingers through my frail hair. they always wanted to care for me, secretly.

rises the moon.

"close your weary eyes, i promise you that soon the autumn comes to darken faded summer skys." they pause for a moment. "breathe, breathe, breathe."

almost immediately after hearing that, i start to cry, just a full on breakdown. they quickly embrace me, wrapping their arms around my middle. i dig my face into theit shoulder, tears still rolling down my pastey cheeks. its nice.

oh to be hugged like this again.

days pull you down just like a sinking ship.

its been a day? maybe.. i dunno anymore. it might've been 2, 3, 4 a week, who knows - not me thats fot sure. it might be september now, i last remember it was august, that seems like yesterday. them, my carer, whatever, i dont know their name anymore. i dont know who they are, i cant see.. its all blurry and fuzzy, so is my memory. i cant remember the last time i ate..

floating is getting harder.

"im sorry.." they mumble, their voice snapping me out of my thoughts - though it was barely above a whisper.

their thin fingers run through my hair again, gently letting it fall between the gaps and repeating.

oh, i forgot to mention, i also cant speak.. or breathe for that matter. i think the tumor - or tumors more like - have begun to press against my trachea and esophagus, making his hard to both eat and breathe. wheezing has become a normal, daily routine.

considering my condition,

i have tonight,

and thats it.

because of my fate, i keep repeating a phrase i once said to a child as they went through chemo. they had no parents, i was the best thing they had..

but thread the water, child, and know that meanwhile: rises the moon.

days pull you up just like a daffodil.

its the next day, i think. its really hard to just think. the weezings gotten worse, i feel awful, like horrendous. its awful... maybe i am ready to die. i can just subtly feek them holding my fraile hand, stroking their thumb over my knuckles. only barely. im scared, terrified more like. i dont even know who they are, but im scared for them.. they'll miss me definitely. what will they do when im gone? i dont know..

uprooted from its garden.

once again, i feel consciousness slip from underneath me. which is normal, very. but this wasn't normal.. i could still hear.

"they'll tell you what you owe," they mumble. "but know even so, rises the moon."

i try to smile, a small twinge of my lips. but nothing happens. i try to tell them i love them, but again, nothing happens.

"you'll be visited by sleep. i promise that the autumn comes to steal away each dream you keep." they choke back a sob.

"breathe, breathe, breathe." houses voice sobs.

they're house.

but its too late to tell him i love him.