#realizing my brain is just fucked up and what do i do now because if i went to a session now

[triglycercule]

hhhhidea...,,,, CUTE idea (kinda?) dust reading to phantom papyrus during night to lull him to sleep,,,, but really its just a way for him to pretend that everythings not really that shit (as if phantom paps isn't just dust's denial incarnate) and to help him NOT wake up because of a nightmare again or something

(and just because i can't resist now im imagining this with mtt. not that dust stopped reading to paps in place of killer and horror (because he wouldnt he simply wouldn't) but now the two join them for storytime. horror knocks out pretty damn fast and eventually dust falls asleep too after he makes sure that paps is satisfied with the amount he read and then killer's just left to sit there. maybe he tries to fall asleep maybe he doesn't,,,, maybe he picks up the book and continues reading but EITHERWAY,,,,,, this scene in my head so 💥💥💥😇😇😇)

[rapidhighway]

[maybeicanbesaved]

got into yet another fight with my mom, again about voting/the election, she said that she’s only voted once in her life and never cares to again because she ‘doesn’t care about politics’, saying that shit almost proudly?? and it set me off for obvious reasons, then she got mad at me for saying it’s because she’s privileged and ‘most’ shit doesn’t affect her directly so she can afford ‘not to care’

[catastrxblues]

—

[ankhisms]

can i be emotionally vulnerable with you all in the torture dungeon

[seafoam-taide]

You know I thought for awhile that I was just a rare type of person who sure, liked people well enough but was okay being alone didn't necessarily need anyone and NO. NO. NO. OH MY GOD . YOU GIANT DUMBASS. NO HAHAHA NOOO NOPE

[oflightningandstars]

"I missed you"

Thinking about Milligan being out on a mission for far longer than it was supposed to go. There was some snag or another, or several, and he's been out for multiple days when the mission was supposed to be done in under two. This is during TPD, when everyone is in Mr. Benedict's house, so everyone has been going about their days, the children with their lessons, the adults helping them, and everyone worrying, and trying to pretend like they aren't. They have all sat down for dinner when the unmistakable sound of the front door opening reaches them. Everyone tenses, a little, before Milligan's jaunty whistle follows and sets everyone at ease.

Milligan arrives in the doorway a moment later, visibly a bit battered, but smiling all the same. Kate throws herself at him and he squeezes her tight, never mind the aching in his ribs. This is more important.

When Kate finally lets go, Milligan ruffles her hair and looks up at the rest of the group, who are all watching with relief visible on many of their faces, and Milligan has known them all long enough to see the relief in the others, even if it's less visible. Everyone else remained seated when he entered, except for Moocho, who had half risen out of his chair.

Milligan walks over to him, and is surprised to see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He offers a hand to him, which Moocho takes, standing up fully. They are quite close, and Moocho can see every shade of the bruise forming on Milligan's forehead. His fingers itch to brush it, to check Milligan over and make sure he's not too hurt. He swallows it down, not wanting to break the moment. They are still quite close.

They stare at each other for a moment. The room is silent. Milligan can't bear to imagine what the others are thinking, or expressing silently to each other. He's barely sure what he himself is thinking.

"I missed you," Moocho says, a low rumble for only Milligan to hear.

And Milligan looks at Moocho and realizes that hearing those words from this wonderful man is absolutely heartbreaking. He loves him, he knows this, has known this, but in this moment it crystalizes into a solid weight he can feel in his chest.

"Well, we can't have that," Milligan says. He brings a hand up, almost in a daze, and gently tucks some hair behind Moocho's ear. When he's finished the motion, his hand remains, cupping Moocho's cheek.

A tear escapes, but before it can fall too far, Milligan sweeps it away with his thumb. He wants to do more, to hold Moocho tight, to squeeze all memory of missing away. Moocho inhales sharply, then relaxes. He turns his head slowly, without moving away from Milligan's hand.

If things had been still before, the world now feels frozen as Moocho gently kisses Milligan's palm.

Vaguely, Milligan can hear someone let out a soft "ohh," in the background, while someone else squeals quietly. It is at this moment that he remembers they are in fact standing in the dining room, in front of everybody. He starts, and moves to back away slightly. Moocho stops him, a hand on his arm.

"Milligan," he says quietly.

"Yes." It is barely a whisper.

"I love you."

"I--" the words get caught in Milligan's throat as tears form in his own eyes. He swallows hurriedly, he doesn't want to make Moocho wait anymore.

"I love you too."

The room behind them erupts into screaming cheers, most notably from Kate who, judging by the sounds, has climbed onto the table and started jumping. He meets Moocho's eyes and they share a fond look, and Milligan feels like he's about to either burst into laughter or tears.

"We should... probably go somewhere and talk, I think," Moocho says.

"Yeah."

"You didn't even eat dinner Milligan," Number Two calls, though she her smile is broad.

"Oh. Right. Uh..." But Number Two hands him a filled plate before he can do anything. He takes it gratefully, wincing as his body reminds him that in addition to being hungry, he is also tired and sore from his mission.

Moocho notices this and deftly swipes the plate from him.

"We can stop in the kitchen for some ice packs first," he says, and gently takes Milligan's hand in his free one.

Milligan squeezes slightly and lets Moocho lead him out of the room.

[oh-cramity-its-amity]

its so weird to read some of my old fics (do NOT do it but i'm just being hypothetical rn) and reading it. like who even was this person?? i completely was in a haze back in 2020. i literally was posting 3 chapters a day. A DAY. what in the WORLD was that shit.

anyway i remembered some STUPID sappy shit and i didnt remember if i'd put it into a fic or not BUT I FOUND IT.

She and Hope had been dating in secret for months anyway, and any attempt to go talk to Ryan only filed her disposition of displeasure upon knowing that she couldn’t tell anyone, Molly especially, it destroyed herself mentally. They couldn’t really go anywhere near the school, always having to lie to everyone about having projects together when Molly wasn’t around them. It’d consisted with 9 PM - 2 AM intervals of being able to actually see each other. Hope would sneak through her small bedroom window with a portable record player and whatever she had gotten from the vintage record store downtown, and Amy would always fall asleep around eleven because of her internal clock. She would always wake up to find a single sticky note stuck on the edge of her desk whenever she woke up to her alarm the next morning. One of them, Amy still had tucked inside of her phone case, a heavily detailed human heart, with blue and red ink sketched onto a neon pink sticky note, there was a caption that headed the small paper reading the phrase over every now and again makes her almost melt every time. “You have my heart.”

yeah idk why the fuck but i thought of this fucking idea again today and i was like "omg did i ever put that heart note thing in a fic???" yeah you fucking did.

all that to say ME AND WHO???? imagine. thats so fucking.... RAHHHH.

[bbeelzemon]

sometime this past year i had the experience of uh experiencing [something trivial i dont even remember at this point], and then felt in real time as my brain changed the memory right in front of me. like i Knew that my memory was now incorrect, but i couldnt remember what Actually happened. and i think that moment is the first time i ever truly started to realize that my memory in particular is not infallible and that brains change your memory of things and events all the time, especially over several years

[birdblues]

tw for sexual//assault in the notes

[gibbearish]

like theres not a lot of games im REALLY good at so when there are ones i latch on super hard. and boy have i latched on to this one

[continuousmeowing]

I fell asleep on the couch and had a dream that kind of freaked me out

[biolums]

its one thing getting jealous. its another thing to be fljealous of someone who wore boot cut jeans unironically..

[abluehappyface]

What is WRONG with me!?

[i-like-gay-books]

fully convinced at this point that if theres anything in my life im bad at/ have been bad at its solely due to lack of confidence

[genderfluid-druid]

Hmm.