#seems cushy
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calypsolemon · 2 years ago
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the kitty/puss/perrito friends with relatable but contrasting trauma triad is like:
puss and perrito are both orphans but puss was adopted by a loving supportive mother while perrito was completely abandoned
kitty and perrito were both abused by their families but perrito was openly an attempt to get rid of him while kitty's mistreatment was a way of controlling her/ forcing her to fit into their expectations better
kitty and puss were both betrayed by family but puss still had good family waiting for him on the other side of it. kitty did not.
idk I think their experiences being similar but different leading to completely different reactions and character flaws of each is... interesting.
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riotdyke · 8 days ago
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Unfortunately Cornel West was the only third party candidate at all worth his salt and he categorically never had a shot
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lesamis · 1 month ago
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is there an opposite of nostalgia where you remember sth as worse than it actually was in order to stop yourself from missing it so much it dissolves you like a wet straw wrapper
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the-fidgety-fiddler · 1 month ago
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...
#made it back to school last night from my childhood hometown in NC#i feel so strange... i got there on thursday afternoon and came back yesterday but i feel like that weekend lasted a month#i think i am in shock still.. the area i grew up in is so utterly and completely devastated i can hardly comprehend it#not to mention the surrounding states...#and even though we were just trying to survive while i was there and it was so so scary .. it was only temporary for me#i get to go home to my cushy apartment with running water and electricity while some of my closest friends and family are wondering#if they can get enough water#and so many have lost their livelihoods or even their lives#some of them have gotten water and power back but others are still stuck. and i feel like i am still there even though im not.#its like this weird anxious guilty numbness feeling that wont go away and gets worse whenever i turn on lights or see a case of water.#i dont live there anymore but I am so emotionally tied to that area ... and i was there for the storm and saw the aftermath#but its not actually my home so i feel like... i dont know what I feel actually.#but i dont feel good#and then i feel guilty for feeling bad too!! like I dont deserve to be upset or traumatized?? maybe i should go to therapy again...#idk if any of this even makes sense... and i dont mean to be all me me me during all of this. i guess I am just tired and need to vent a bi#anyway please please pray for the people affected by the hurricane. and if you can donate that would be so so wonderful.#it seems like it will be years for the area to fully recover. if it ever even does.#if youve read this far you have my apologies for my word slop... heres a heart for you 🩷 and a caterpillar 🐛 i think i need to go to bed#i have class and rehearsal tomorrow. even though all of that just seems kind of pointless to me right now#but maybe more sleep will help...#my post
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magpie-to-the-morning · 6 months ago
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The Covid lockdown proved that nearly all office work can be done remotely, so now being made to be physically present is like “… really? We’re back to pretending this is necessary?” And it’s a lot harder to stomach.
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shadyhouse · 7 months ago
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disregard my whining from this morning, guess who snagged a job interview next week >:3333
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roseandbee · 2 months ago
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Cat hoodie is going on the travel emotional support list along with her stuffed narwhal and calming catnip
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harcheongai · 1 year ago
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theres a trend on tiktok of women with the beard filter and captioning it stuff like “me when i pay for dinner” and its truly a reminder that we as a society are actively going back to our wierd fucked up gender stereotype ways like. since when did we go back to agreeing that a man has to pay for dinner, open car doors. since when did we go back to this old traditional view point of what “being a gentleman” is. feminism has now been somehow degraded into being bimbo feminisim/ actively hating on every single man and veering dangerously into TERF territory AND also forgetting that at the end of the day feminism is meant to benefit both women AND men. not to mention that trend thats like “oh when he looks a little bit gay” like what does a gay man look like to u. since when did we as a collective go back to agreeing that effeminate men = gay??
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diseaseriddencube · 1 year ago
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Immo existing for more than one panel in a single chapter compilation 😍
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jedi-bird · 1 year ago
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It's been an interesting morning so far. I may have ruined a 12 year long friendship by having to be brutally honest about something because I couldn't keep quiet any longer and let a friend ruin her life further. If it happens, it happens. I gave her some recommendations and we'll see if she listens. But also, the elusive Loki cat followed me around all morning demanding love and attention and even let my pick her up and hold her, which made me feel special.
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noisytenant · 1 year ago
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i dont really care if people make fun of unrealistic leftist commune fantasies (though i personally dont want to) but when people come after project management and administration like they're on par with professional dnd homebrewing it's time for the block button. This is a management defense blog
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valentineblacker · 6 months ago
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Most retail jobs in the US have a maximum amount of time you can take off UNpaid. Usually something like 8hrs/month, which you 'earn' a bit at a time. If you've been there a few years or get promoted you may eventually work yourself up to the privilege of 2 whole unpaid weeks off a year. Sick time is not separate (in most states). The time might not roll over, so if you get the flu in January you can either work sick or be fired. Also if you do take a day off you usually have to find someone to cover your shift or you might get written up.
Salary jobs usually have 10-15 paid days off (at least initially) but you 'earn' them the same way and can get into 'debt' with a January illness. And if you use them up when it's nice out and then get sick in December you're out of luck- if you're lucky you can negotiate to take some days unpaid or borrow from the future. People with kids are lucky if they get 1 week of an actual vacation since they use time on kid-related stuff. And yeah, we're all just living like this.
I think adults need summer vacation. Like let's just close down all our jobs for three months and play outside. Please. I'm so tired.
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goldlightsaber · 3 months ago
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i get so pissed off when people are braggy but especially if they’re braggy and also wealthy lol
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hag-lad · 5 months ago
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Why why why why why WHY does like every single forest ambience video on youtube have fucking wet babbling bubbly liquid drippy fucking WATER SOUNDS oihhweihfeof they're like nails on a chalkboard with these headphones, I hate WET NOISES so much!!!!
All I want is mellow ambient synth patches at an equal volume with gentle breeze, birdsong, rustling leaves, and croaking frogs. NO GODDAMNED MOTHERFUCKING WATER!!!!
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pellucid-constellations · 10 months ago
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Of Oblivious Minds (2)
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Pairing: Azriel x Reader
Summary: You're positive Azriel is in love with Elain. It seems so obvious. But Cassian is laughing at you and suddenly nothing makes quite so much sense anymore.
Word count: 3k
Warnings: Angst!! More pining and yearning
a/n: Here is part two! I love writing this little series :) There will definitely be more! let me know what you think ♡♡
Part 1, Part 3
~~
Sometimes you hated being a scholar. 
There were plenty of upsides to having such a cushy job, especially when your employer was the high lord himself. You got paid generously, got free access to the best libraries, and never had to pay rent. Millions of fae would kill to have your position. 
But as Cassian punched you in the ribs—for the third time—you found yourself questioning your role within the night court’s inner circle.
“Okay,” you breathed out, hunching over with a hand cradling your side. “Okay, please, Cass. Can we take a break?” 
Unfortunately, Cassian didn’t appreciate quitters. So, your feet were abruptly swept from under you and your back made contact with the floor. With a soft oof, the wind was knocked from your lungs. 
“C’mon, y/n, you’re better than that. I know you are.” 
You responded with a wheeze, blinking into the pale sun. 
This morning had been rough.
You’d been having some trouble sleeping, but that wasn’t necessarily unusual. Being alive for so long meant you had seen quite a few things, so nightmares came and went with the tide. You were going through a rough patch with them at the moment, and the lack of sleep was starting to catch up with you.
“You planning on laying there for the rest of the day?” Cassian asked, his large silhouette coming to block the light. 
You squinted up at him. “Maybe.” 
“Yeah, not happening.” 
You fought back a whine as the Illyrian pulled you up by your shoulders and steadied you. He nodded, giving you a moment to ready yourself back into position, and then bent his knees. Gods, you were going to be so sore later. 
It didn’t take long for you to end up on the floor again, this time on your stomach. Your chin cracked against the padded ring, your teeth snapping together at the impact. The sound made your brain vibrate as you rolled onto your side and held your temple. 
Cassian crouched down to the floor beside you and you could make out his worried brow amidst the shakiness of your vision. 
“What’s going on with you?” He brought his hand up to brush against your already bruising jaw. “We’ve been working on that move for weeks. You had it a few days ago.” 
You breathed through your nose and tried not to groan at the ache rolling through your body. “I think I’m just tired. I haven’t been sleeping very well.” 
At that, Cassian plopped down to a seat, keeping a hand at your elbow as you brought your own body up to mirror his. 
“You want to talk about it?” he questioned. 
“There isn’t much to say. I can’t remember them this time. It’s kind of strange—usually I remember them too much and that’s what makes it worse.” 
Cassian hummed in contemplation. He was always the one you went to the morning after a sleepless night. Cassian would listen as you talked through your nightmares, and you would do the same for him. He was a logical pillar in your life. 
But it was always Azriel you went to in the midst of them. You never talked about what you saw and he never asked. But it was always Azriel in the middle of the night. His shadows were a comfort in the pitch black and he was always quick to wrap his wings around you when it became too hard to breathe. 
You hadn’t gone to him these last few times.
The fact that you couldn’t remember your dreams was an unfortunate factor. Because if you knew what was causing you to wake up in a cold sweat every night, at least then you could talk about it. Or take a moment to rationalize. 
There was no rationalizing when the only thing you had to go off of was fear and hurt. 
“What does Azriel think?” Cassian asked after a small lapse in silence.
“What do you mean?” 
“Well, when you go to his room at night. What does he have to say about you not remembering?” 
You scoffed. And then scoffed again. “What? I don’t know what you’re talking about, I barely do that.” 
Cassian stared at you with a blank expression. “So we’re still doing that then. Got it.” He heaved himself up from the ground and then yanked you up alongside him.
“Still doing what?” you asked, trailing behind him as he reached for his canteen. He didn’t answer you, favoring the long gulps of water he was taking. You waited for him to finish and then asked again. He chose to unwrap his knuckles instead. “Cassian.” 
The man sighed. “Nothing, y/n. It’s just… It wasn’t a secret that you would go to his room after you had a rough night. Why do you think I never dragged you out here those mornings?” You cringed at his words. He shook his head. “There’s nothing wrong with that. Why do you hide it?” 
You didn’t have a good reason—well, you didn’t used to. You’d always sneak out of his room after the sun rose and never bring it up again. And there was never a solid explanation for why you evaded the topic. You knew Azriel would never hold it against you and you weren’t embarrassed for others to know that you sought out comfort in a friend. It just seemed like something you should keep to yourself. 
Now, though—now there was a good reason to wipe your actions from memory. To pretend they never happened and to never repeat them. 
“Cassian, Elain is my friend. Even if I did that in the past—in a friendly way—it would be wrong now.” 
A muscle in Cassian’s jaw twitched. “Right. Have you ever actually talked to Elain about her feelings?” 
“I don’t need to.” You reached down for your own water, ignoring the twinge in your side and the pulsing in your head. “She never stops talking about him. And they’re always together. I wouldn’t be surprised if they were already seeing each other.” 
“Who’s seeing each other?” 
The cool tone of Azriel’s voice washed over you and you whipped around to find him standing at the foot of the training ring, blades in hand. 
A nervous laugh fell from your lips and you fought the urge to slap your hand over your mouth. “Um, no one, just some friends I know.” 
“Who?” he asked again. 
“Oh, you don’t know them. Old friends.” 
The Shadowsinger raised a brow, sending Cassian a fleeting look. “I thought I knew all of your friends.” 
“You don’t. I know way more people than you. Even though you're older than me. Not by that much, though. Have you talked to Elain lately?” Words were spewing from your mouth in the worst combinations. You were never nervous around Azriel. What in the cauldron was wrong with you?
Azriel’s raised brow turned into a furrowed one and he blinked, assessing your face with a scrutinizing gaze. “Do you have a concussion?” He turned the Cassian, expression going from confused to provoked. “Did you give her a concussion?” 
“Honestly, maybe.” 
“I don’t have a concussion,” you rushed out, cutting off Cassian’s admission. “I was just leaving though. I’m tired. You guys can fight each other.” 
There was so much sudden pent-up energy inside of you that you had no intention of sleeping, but just seeing Azriel made you feel like you were intruding on something. Which was absurd. Azriel was your friend and had been your friend for centuries. Just because he loved Elain didn’t mean you had to avoid him. 
But this energy had to come from somewhere, and that somewhere was telling you to avoid him like the Illyrian flu. 
Making a break for it, you freed yourself from the training ring and attempted to skate past Azriel with a quick side smile, but he apparently had other plans. He caught your wrist as you walked past, glancing up at a “preoccupied” Cassian before turning to you with his wing out, giving the illusion of a private conversation. 
“You’re not sleeping well?” he asked, voice low. 
You warped your smile into one that met both sides of your mouth. “I’m okay.” 
Shadows crept over his shoulders and along his ears. His expression shifted and pinched and then returned neutral. “You know you can come to me if you need it.” 
“I’m okay, Az. Really.” 
“Would you tell me if you weren’t?”
Maybe before. 
“I’m a paper pusher, Az. I’m not out in the throes of battle,” you jested, scrunching your nose as you smiled up at him. “Nothing is that serious for me.” 
A lie. Something was that serious—serious enough to keep you up at night for the past week—but you couldn’t figure out what it was. 
“That is not what I asked,” he countered, sliding his hand up from your wrist to turn your chin. “You need to ice your jaw. Cassian shouldn’t be so rough with you.” 
“I’m okay,” you said again, words a pathetic repetition because your heart was beating so fast now and you needed to leave. Something was pulling at your chest and you needed to leave. 
“As you’ve said,” Azriel muttered, his fingers brushing down along the column of your throat. When his eyes flickered up and met your own, something inside of you lost its alignment.
You looked away before the feeling could return. Everything righted itself. You took a wobbly step back. 
“Have a good training session.” 
You turned on your heel and stalked away, feeling equal parts the betrayer and the betrayed. 
~~
“You mean that girl off-continent? The one from a century ago?” 
Cassian hummed. “Yeah, her. What I wouldn’t give for a visit from her.” 
“You’re a pig,” Mor replied, a scoff sharp on her lips.
“She didn’t think so.” 
You were eavesdropping. You didn’t like to, but somehow, in the time you’d spent in the inner circle, you’d picked up the habit. Oops.
Technically, you weren’t really eavesdropping. You had been in the room first. It wasn’t your fault Cassian and Mor decided to speak very loudly with only a few shelves separating you. If they wanted privacy they should have checked the area. 
“Is it that hard for you to get laid? You have to search off-continent?” 
Cassian’s responding laugh was almost defensive. “I’m sure you’d love to know about my sex life.” 
“I really wouldn’t, actually. You brought it up.” Mor paused. You heard her shift on the lounge chair. “I am, however, interested in Azriel’s.” 
“Aren’t we all,” Cassian droned. “Pretty obvious that he doesn't have one at the moment. Hasn’t had one in a while.” 
You felt your neck jolt at the reveal of that information. Azriel always kept his partners discrete, but you’d always known he’d had them. Many of them. You had no idea who they were or where he met them, but you would hear the girls occasionally... smell their perfume on a few rare nights. 
“You think? This whole time?” Mor asked, curiosity raising her voice an octave. 
“Mor, I think the sight of other females makes him want to vomit.” 
The book in your lap was all but obsolete. 
“Don’t be so dramatic.” 
Cassian tsked. “I’m not. He’s told me.” 
“I suppose that’s what having a mate does to a person.” 
Your fingers became abnormally cold, the center of your chest caving slightly.
Azriel had a mate? No, he would have told you.
He would have told you. 
Mor’s sweet voice slammed against your ears, harsh despite its nature. “Do you think he’ll tell her soon?” 
Cassian’s reply had you standing on shaking knees. “Hope so. He’s so in love with her it's suffocating. You should see when—” 
You were out of the room in a wisp, sliding out the small back door. The book you’d been reading was still clutched in your frozen grip and you held it against your chest as breathing became impossible. With a hand pressed to the wall and your head hung low, you sucked in air, greedy for some type of reprieve. 
You were happy for him. You were so, so happy for him. 
Right? 
The book fell from your grip, clattering to the floor. The pages collapsed in on themselves as it fell face down, and you listened to the paper crumple as your throat closed. Both hands now pressed to the cold wall. Why were you freezing? 
This made sense. It made sense. 
Of course Azriel had a mate and of course it was… Elain? 
No, it couldn’t be Elain. Elain was Lucien’s mate. 
Now you were confused as well as consumed. Your body was left aching from training and your mind was in a frenzy and you couldn’t even understand why you were reacting the way you were. 
It was completely plausible that Azriel had a mate and didn’t tell anyone about it. He was a private male who kept his lovers to himself, so of course he would keep his mate to himself as well. But he did tell someone about it. He told Cassian. And Mor knew. 
Your fingernails dug into stone.
Azriel didn’t love you. 
The thought came on so suddenly that you almost looked over your shoulder. It was as if the words had been whispered in your ear by some cruel, vicious wind. 
You had never cared if Azriel loved you before, because you knew that he did love you. Like a sister. You were Azriel’s family and he was yours. 
But as the thought of Azriel having a mate invaded your mind once more, your shaky legs propelled you forward, running from the creased book and the hallway that contained all of the worst things. 
You ran until you couldn't, until your toes hit the edge of the balcony on the far side of the house and the cool air of winter hit your cheeks. You had been so cold inside, but somehow the breeze felt even colder across your skin. 
“Y/n?” 
You gasped, whipping around and gripping the railing as it pressed into your spine. You couldn’t formulate words as Azriel stood before you. His hands raised up to his waist, reaching for you as he took in the way your chest heaved.
“What’s happened? What’s wrong?” he rushed. 
You only shook your head, squeezing your eyes shut. Embarrassment and confusion and a twisted sort of fear coursed through you. You couldn't look at him, afraid you would somehow see the bond connected to his chest—somehow notice things about him you hadn’t before. Maybe another shade of hazel in his eyes or a softness to his lips that you had never looked for. 
As you considered it now, it was obvious that you’d never let yourself look. 
Azriel was never supposed to be yours. 
“Talk to me, angel.” Azriel’s sweet whisper brushed against your skin. He was so close to you. You could feel him, but you refused to look. 
To see how everything had changed. 
“Let me fix it.” 
You heard the rush of wind from his wings as he expanded them outwards, followed closely behind by the whirling of his shadows, and it all clicked then. 
The images came quickly, dissipating just as fast. But they did their job, sending heavy, hot tears past the tight scrunch of your eyelids. 
Azriel with Elain. Azriel with Mor. Azriel with random, faceless women.
Him, in every iteration, with everyone that wasn’t you. 
That’s what had kept you up—the dreams plaguing your every resting moment. And you realized then that nothing had really changed at all. That you’d been in love with Azriel for longer than you’d been in love with anything. 
Your jaw trembled, your body rejecting the anguish that swept through you. Wind softly flowed from the west, swaying your skirts with a gentleness that made your breath shudder. That kind of gentleness was impossible. The world felt so cruel. 
“Y/n, tell me what happened. Should I get someone else?” Azriel pleaded. “Should I get Rhys?” 
Rhys could knock you out, and that would surely be a relief. You felt paralyzed by this overwhelming array of devastation. But Rhys would also have access to your thoughts. 
You shook your head. “No,” you said, but the word was lost in the wind. Azriel seemed to hear it anyway. “No, I want—I need to—go to sleep.” 
“You need to go to sleep?” He touched you now, something he seemed to have been avoiding. His hands came to rest behind your neck, thumbs at your jaw, and you pried your eyes open at the contact. You’d never seen the shadowsinger look so ruined, his hair askew, his eyes wild and panicked. “That doesn’t make any sense.” 
His expression was beseeching you for something you couldn’t give him. You hiccuped your next words out. 
“I’m—’m tired.” 
You wished you’d stayed oblivious. That you had never become privy to the depth of your feelings. 
This pain was immeasurable.
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written-in-flowers · 6 months ago
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Their Pretty Lady: Masterlist
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Pairing: Demonline x fem!reader | side pairings: demon!ateez x fem!reader
Genre: Heavy smut, angst and fluff MINORS DNI
AU: demon au, darkfic (in some parts)
Summary: YN has been in the hellish Inferno for seven years. After years of enslavement, she falls into the laps of Lords Seonghwa, Hongjoong and San. What seems to be a cushy position ends up being the key to her true identity.
Tags: listed in chapters, overall Christianity/religious themes, Dante's Divine Comedy inspired, demon!ateez, fem!reader, demon!reader (eventually).
Pretty Lady Playlist
Parts in Order:
Part 1: The Lady
Their Pretty Pet (demonline)
His Darling (demon!San)
His Kitten (demon!Seonghwa)
His Pet (demon!Hongjoong)
His Student (demon!Yeosang)
His Obsession (demon!Mingi)
His Mistress (demon!Jongho)
His Goddess (demon!yunho)
His Muse (demon!wooyoung)
Part 2: The Demons
Her Pretty Lords (demonline)
Her Lover (demon!Hongjoong)
Her Mate (demon!Seonghwa)
Her Soldier (demon!San)
Her Guardian (demon!Mingi)
The B-Sides
The Costume (demon!woosan)
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