#screaming crying throwing up et cetera

[tunarath]

my Reli and her beloved Azandar by my friend @irithyllians 🥺💕

[islandiis]

what kind of love are you?

Love as a Choice

You choose to love. Love does not come to you easily, but every day you wake up and choose it. It would be so easy, wouldn't it, to grow cold and callous and grim. But you rise to greet the world, making the conscious effort to find something, anything to love. When you fall for someone, you do not kid yourself of their flaws. Instead, you resolve to see them for who they are, mistakes and all and you love them all the same. Your love is work, and it does not come easy. Your love sweats and toils. It is calloused and sunburned; it bears scars and comes with stories. Your love is worn, but it is no less valuable for it. Being loved by you is like being loved by a gardener, a mother, a teacher. Your love may not always be the simplest, but it is worth the effort.

tagged by: @fangmother tagging: @regardviolet @seborga @frestoniia @czesarevich @bujorulgalben @srcoliku @mauerfrau @paperworkanddogs

[gallade-x-treme]

OHHH MY GOSH

IT'S HAPPENING

EVERYBODY IT'S HAPPENING

[skydrifter]

the curse of being so deep into a hyperfixation that watching an amv about it makes u wanna literally explode from sheer !!!!

[ehlnofay]

I am going to take all of the nice comments people leave on my fucking video game fanfiction and print it all on a fabric and when I die it will be my shroud

[vvelegrin]

my psychiatrist not realizing he's about to fucking obliterate me: oh your room looks a lot cleaner this week

[bakuraryxu]

[mamaodeeznuts]

naveen has to be the chillest most nonchalant guy in all of new orleans. he’s really just down to vibe through whatever nonsense is happening around him. tiana spends the movie losing her whole entire mind over everything that’s going on (being turned into a frog, suddenly being able to talk to animals, having the urge to eat bugs, et cetera) while naveen just. Does Not Care. the only time we see him as anything other than calm, cool, and collected is when he thinks he’s about to die or when it’s something concerning tiana (trying to propose to her, seeing his doppelgänger mid wedding to lottie, trying to get himself turned human so he can get tiana her dream restaurant). he’s just immediately down for whatever else happens. what kind of life did this dude lead to where being turned into a frog by a shadowy voodoo man was just no big thing to him? tiana is straight up screaming crying and throwing up the whole time and naveen is next to her like “¯\_(ツ)_/¯ just another tuesday afternoon for me. it be like that sometimes” and continuing on his merry little way. sir you have been turned into a FROG

[thecryptidbard]

Losing it over the fact that the latest episode started with Laszlo (seemingly) completely dejected and despondent, everyone in the house individually convinced that it’s all their fault, and then halfway through dropped Nadja’s detached “maybe it wouldn’t be such a bad thing if we ended up dying?” like a fucking brick but then devoted the final part of the episode to showing that despite the monotony and endlessness inherent to their lives, these weirdos all have so much care and love and devotion for one another even when it’s in spite of themselves, that they all derive so much meaning from their relationships with each other, choosing to end on the note of the Baron’s “I suppose with the right company, it can be beautiful, this eternal existence.” Screaming crying throwing up et cetera

[x-marge]

screaming crying throwing up et cetera

[thymo-leonta]

i feel like the thing about 4 minutes that has me crying screaming throwing up et cetera is that all through the first 5 episodes deep down i knew it was too good to be true but i held onto the hope of some supernatural interference. "surely that's the point of this?" i thought. then episode 6 came and it was like no. we showed you what happened, you knew all along that great wouldn't make those choices. we already showed you him not making those choices. now you have to watch face the truth.

[toaster-boi]

WHAT

NONONONONONONO

FUCK

WHYYYYYYY

SCREAMING CRYING THROWING UP ET CETERA AAAAAAA

[iamthetruestrepairman]

drew a really cartoony dean but he looks like Jonathon from stranger things 💔 screaming crying throwing up et cetera

[bakuraryxu]

i think queen charlotte is a masterclass in why every regency era story needs to have a pair of funny little faggots. Especially ones that put their duty above the LOVES of their LIVES. for the drama.

[cobra-creampuff]

CRYING. SCREAMING. THROWING UP. ET CETERA.

[nappingmoon]

Screaming, Crying, Throwing Up, Et Cetera

THANK YOU FOR 2K ON THIS IM KISSING U ALL INDIVIDUALLY MWUAAAAAAAH

more domestic nanami kento because I love and adore him, but this time you’re in an argument and try to sleep on the couch (spoiler: nuh uh)

wc: idk i’m on my phone it’s not that long

you get into an argument w nanami and think he wants space so after dinner, when he heads into the room to go to bed, you stay out under the pretense of finishing some paper work and watching the news. you pull a blanket out and splay onto your couch, which, despite being a little small, is soft and comfortable— a testament to its use and the friends you've had over to break it in. the thought of those good times warms your heart a smidge, though it remains heavy with the current tension between you and your fiancé. you leave the tv on, let the night shift television shows fill the space and keep you company while you sleep, an alarm set so that tomorrow you can make breakfast and talk it out.

in the bedroom, nanami lays on his back, the small clock to his left almost mocking him with the way the red numbers change minute after minute with no sign of you coming to bed. the room is cold without your presence, dark in a way that has nothing to do with lamps or moonlight. he fidgets and turns but without your familiar dip in the bed, sleep is impossible. he never sleeps well without you; the lack of your steady breaths and soft snores means he starts to spiral with thoughts about your wellbeing. he knows you’re in an argument, but you always come to bed, right?

he sits on it for a moment more, eyeing the door to see if you’ll slip in and put his worries to rest like you always do. when the numbers blip again, he gets up, feet sliding into the silly slippers you got him for christmas (you have a matching pair) and finds his way to the living room.

when he finds you there curled up with your arm hung over the edge of the sofa and a little bit of drool spilling onto the cushion, his heart twists. the lights of the television flash over your face, certainly disrupting your sleep, though he doubts your reaching anywhere near a restful slumber. he walks over to you, slowly crouching in order to avoid scaring you awake. his right hand grabbing yours, and it’s freezing— left without the protection of your measly blanket. he warms it with one hand while the other comes up to graze your face, easing you awake.

“kento?” you ask, bleary eyed. “you’re even handsome in my dreams.” you smile and pat his face before letting your arm drop and closing your eyes once more.

a small chuckle escapes him, both in surprise and adoration at his soon to be wife. unwilling to try and wake you a second time, he quickly turns the tv off, then slides an arm around your back and another under your knees before rising. he elbows the light switch to the living room off and slowly makes his way back to your shared bedroom, carefully avoiding hitting you at any point. your head is safe regardless, tucked into his chest contentedly despite not being awake. he supposes your body recognizes him asleep or awake— a testament to the years you’ve spent side by side; once as teammates and now as lovers.

he slides you into bed on your side, fixing up the covers before making his way around to his side. he slips off his slippers and gets himself under the covers, body gravitating to you. as he brings you closer to him, you finally seem to shake off your sleep. you look at him sadly, and it’s enough to resolve him against letting any future arguments happen (an impossible sentiment, he knows, but the look on your face is makes him dead set on trying).

“never try to sleep on the couch again.” he whispers, quiet but stern. “I hate sleeping without you. I worry too much.” the honesty is almost suffocating and tears build at your waterline.

“m’ sorry kento. thought you were mad at me n’ I wanted to give you some space away from me.” you reply, the words thick with sleep and emotion.

“i’ll never need space from you baby,” he insists, “I know we were in an argument but you mean everything to me. I’ll always want you by my side. I’ll always need you by my side. I’m sorry if I made you feel like you were the reason I was upset.” he finishes off with a kiss to your forehead, his hand coming up to wipe the tears that have begun to drip down your cheeks.

he kisses down the bridge of your nose before leaving a peck at your lips. it’s the last thing you feel before giving in to the exhaustion once more.

in the morning, you’ll discuss the tensions of yesterday, but before that, you’ll wake in the arms of your lover, held tight against the rhythmic thumping of his heart.

it beats for you, anyway.