#that’s sad

[doctordelicate-touch]

cottagecore

fairies

flowers

green and pink

please?

— evelyn

Yay!! Art by urs truly btw >_<

[imthetunnelunderoceanblvd]

HII!!! I LOVE YOUR WRITING SOO MUCH AND I WAS HAPPY WHEN I SAW UR REQS WERE OPEN!!!!!. i was wondering if you could possibly maybe write something with lyle and/or quaritch (preferably quaritch if you don't wanna do both but either is fine!!!) with a reader who cries when she is yelled at? it would be nice if the reader was a human!fem!reader!!

i'm thinking him (meaning lyle or quaritch) and reader are in a heated argument and he starts to raise his voice at her and she just gets all upset and scared bc her lover is so much bigger than her and shes just scared that he could snap her in half at any given time so he apologizes for yelling at her and snuggling or something with her after to make up for it :)

it almost worked.

quaritch x human!fem!reader

1.8k words

warnings: mentions of sex, hurt no comfort, angst, insecurities, hate feelings, choking, no mentions of y/n.

opening your eyes to a new body, a body you're not used to, is weird but also relieving; that's what quaritch felt: relief, weirdness, disgust.

he was disgusted with the way he looked—his skin, his eyes, his ears—and he found it funny, funny that he's one of the 'savages' he's always hated.

he didn't expect to see all his friends, and especially you, an old friend and lover. an old person quaritch fell in love with. seeing you for the first time filled his brain with memories—memories of you and human quaritch.

now, this quaritch, the one standing in front of you, was not the one you fell in love with, and you are aware of that, but seeing him after years of missing him made your heart ache. quaritch had a hard time being around you; every time he sees you, he's hit with a train of emotions and memories. he almost felt bad for you.

"i thought you went back to earth."

you looked up at the source of the voice as if you had no idea whose voice this is. "i did go back," you hummed.

"why'd you come back?"

"that isn't important. why are you here anyway?" you said, the last part clearly annoyed as you opened your drawer and shuffled through it.

"i came here to talk; you got a minute to spare, f'me?" you once again hummed before you found your lipgloss and that tiny mirror you always kept with you. you opened the tube and squeezed the product out before swiping it over your lips. "i've always liked the way your lips looked after you put the shiny stuff on."

"i appreciate that," you said in a cold tone.

"what did you want to talk about?" you said you were resting your cheek on the back of your hand.

"us, i mean, i know'm not quaritch, i'm not that person, we do share the same memories, but - i can't help but feel strong feelings for you, can't get you outta my head, now, i repeat, i'm not that person, i know how he treated you, but we can pick it up again and make it work, whaddya say, sugar?"

you got up and placed your hands on the table. "you can't ask this; you can't expect me to forgive you or come running back to you like a little girl trying to find her way through the night. i have changed and moved on, and so should you." you got up from your chair and walked towards the door. a tight grip on your arm stopped you and made you wince in pain. "let go," you said in a harsh tone.

"you are going to sit your ass down there on that chair and talk to me." when you glared up at him, his grip tightened, and you whined. "did i make myself clear?" it came out more like a statement than a question.

you looked up at him with wide eyes. "you're hurting me; stop." he clenched his jaw at your words and let go. "you're not a good person, miles," you said, shaking your head. "please let me go; i can't do this anymore. doesn't it bring you enough satisfaction knowing that i'm with you hurting in the same base?" he had a stern look on his face now, looking down at you. "i didn't ask you to come here. if you didn't want to see me this bad, then why'd you come here knowing that i'd be here, hm?" he raised his eyebrows, his lips forming a tight line. "answer me, goddammit!" he yelled at you, making you jerk in fear.

"still like old times, huh? still getting scared easily. "y'know, sweetheart, i've always liked that side of you, the scared side of you," he chuckled. and a dark and quiet chuckle. a chuckle that made you shiver in fear. "you can't even look me in the eyes; you never looked me in the eyes when we argued." his hand was on your face, caressing your cheek as you stood there, totally frozen and unable to move. was it fear, or was it need? the question swam around in your head. you wrapped your hand around his wrist, your fingers not even close to touching. you jerked his hand away, forcing his hand off of your face.

"stay away from me," you said, your voice small and close to breaking. that amused him, knowing he still had that kind of effect on you. "say that you don't love me anymore, and i'll leave you alone. "say it right to my face right now, right here." he commanded you as if you were one of his soldiers. "say it!" he yelled at you once again, making you flinch and widen your eyes more.

he knew you weren't good with yelling, yet he still yelled at you.

you'd had enough. you had no idea what had happened to you. you were like a volcano waiting to explode. and that's what you did. you exploded. "i hate you," you said quietly, and he didn't even hear you.

"what was that?" "i hate you!" you screamed this time.

his eyebrows furrowed as he looked at you. "watch what you're saying, girl; watch your words. you don't want me to get you crying like the crybaby you are, right?" when you didn't say anything, he smirked. "thought so."

you looked up at him and tsked, a smirk forming on your lips. you pointed your finger at him, rapidly but harshly poking at his chest. "i. hate. you. i hate you. i fucking hate you. i hate paz. i'm so happy she's dead. i'm so happy that you're dead. although you're standing right here, in front of me, you are dead. "you are dead to me; you're dead to me. do you hear me, you sick motherfucker?" you've started hitting his chest with both hands now.

"i said watch what yo-"

"you watch what you say to me; i am not hesitant to stick a knife down your throat and watch you choke on your own blood. i hate you. i always have. from the moment you started screwing stupid paz, i started hating you. i hate you, i hate paz, and i hate your stupid team, especially fucking lyle, that sick, retarded fuck. i hate that nasty kid you and paz had. god, how satisfied i'd be to watch you die." he was too stunned to talk; his mouth was open, his eyes narrow, and you just chuckled at how stupid he looks.

"we had everything we needed back on earth. but you wanted more; you never wanted my love, you never wanted me; you just wanted a chick to screw, to bend over whatever you found and fuck them to feel good about yourself, to feel how great and strong of a colonel you are. fuck you!" your words were venomous. he couldn't bear your voice anymore; his hand wrapped around your small neck, squeezing the air out of your lungs.

"well, guess what? i ain't that crazy about you either." he slightly lifted you off the ground, making your face turn red before letting you down harshly. you landed on your buttocks with a thud.

"i hate you! i hate you all so much! i hate you so much!" you said crawling to him before you pressed your teeth down on the flesh of his leg, and he let out a loud grunt and kicked you. you sat down on the floor with your hands on your face, wiping the tears, sniffling the snot, and the tears making your face wet and gross. he felt bad for what he did; the only thing he was able to do was stare down at you.

"you promised... you said—you—you promised that you'd never hurt me—you promise—" your words were cut off with yet another sob. you sniffled some more before getting up. "i always used to sit down on that stupid couch where we used to cuddle and wonder what went wrong, but then i realized that it was me. if i showed you more love, if i loved you more, maybe we would be together now, on earth, with a couple of kids." you wiped your tears. "i should've learned to let you stay. we should've gone back to florida—i remember seeing you sun bathing every morning—and" you sniffled and cried some more, more tears rolling down your cheeks that you didn't bother wiping anymore.

"your body is becoming darker and darker, making you look terrific. i remember when we first met. it was so clear to me that you were the one for me, but then again, you didn't want me all the time. i am mature now—more mature than i ever was—and i am letting you go today, letting you go fully."

you stood up, and he was quick to pull you into a hug. your small body fits just right. you didn't hug back; you knew better. you knew that if you did, you wouldn't be able to turn around and walk away, so you did the right thing. "i'm sorry, cupcake," he said before you tried to push him away from you.

"i'm sorry, i never meant to make you feel that way. i never meant to hurt you." you were hearing the words that you so desperately needed to hear—the words you were dying from the inside to hear—yet it only made you sob more. you finally had enough courage to walk away.

"i wish you all the best, really. "i'm so happy you're here." you said this and walked to the door, tears running from your eyes like water from faucets; it was as if your eyes were the faucets.

"don't..." he whispered as you shut the door behind you.

now here's the thing: you loved him, you loved him, and you loved him; how could you not? he was a great person in your life—a person that you don't regret meeting. you don't even blame him for cheating on you with paz; how could you when you love him so much? you were always making excuses for his actions. and you still are.

and here's the thing that is shocking: he loved you; he did, but he was too cool for a heart like yours, and his eyes were too electric and full of life for boring, tired eyes like yours. his lips are too good for chapped ones like yours. his love is too warm for cold hearts like yours.

his neglection to you on pandora is too cool for you.

the taste of his sweaty thumb inside your mouth is too good for you.

the electric shocks of his touches are too good for skin like yours.

you were boring; you were aware of that, and now you were stuck here on pandora, where nobody wanted you. you were going to live alone for the rest of your life—no chest like his to lay your head on, no lips like his to kiss your salty tears. just you and your body that's been painted blue.

[antvnger]

@ask-kurt-wagnerandrpwithhim

Kurt bamfs into Scott's living room looking dejected. "My fiance is busy, my sister is on a mission, and neither of my mother's want to spend time with me, one of them called me clingy... I'm having a rough day"

Scott jumps out of his skin at the sudden bamf and the appearance of his friend, hissing a choice word under his breath. That is something he’s not sure he can actually get used to honestly.

But then he hears how rough a day Kurt is having, and he softens. “Aaw, Kurt buddy, I’m sorry. C’mere and sit down a spell. What do you need? You want some iced sweet tea? Want a distraction or a chance to vent? What would help make the day better?”

[susansontag]

all in all if someone had to die I would have preferred a former american president to an ordinary citizen, it must be said. different from saying I wish he’d been assassinated, which unfortunately would have led to a whole host of other issues. but someone did die )):

[vicsy]

Dominic Thiem to end his professional tennis career this year?…. man.

[moisok20]

Damn, BMO really doesn’t have a soul, huh? :(

[pixlokita]

this is a silly ask but i had a dream last night about mike (while he was rotting) falling asleep in a supermarket and since it’s near halloween someone mistakes him for a halloween decoration 😭 i just kind of imagined him sleeping in the golden freddy pose.. and then someone in the dream recognized mike (still snoozing) as the person tries to check him out. this dream was surprisingly accurate btw. like mikes legs didn’t really move when he was picked up because of rigor mortis (god, that’s gotta be awful if you wake up super stiff all the time)

this just kind of turned into a ramble about post-scoop mike i guess but i really enjoy his character and i don’t really ever get traction on my fnaf posts so lmk if you want more of my silly dreams and thoughts

That’s so sad but funny Mike noooooooo 😔 bought for a discount without a price tag 🥺 he just wakes up in the front yard next to other Halloween decorations and decides he deserves a large Frappuccino to start his day

[cowboytarlos]

Let’s not think about how TK must have felt when the first thing Carlos did when resuscitated was to shout in a panic “get off me” because Carlos thought he was still in danger.

Let’s not.

[tay1creator]

I just noticed something…off…about Leo?

Are those nails in Leo eyes?

Poor Leo if those are nails in his eyes, he’s showing his age just like Robert :(

[jancysmixtape]

This is why I can’t stand SOME Bylers… trying to say El was FORCING HERSELF onto Mike.. it’s okay to just say you hate the ship, you know!

[greetings-inferiors]

I ship them so fucking hard if they don’t get together that’s fine I’m sure it’ll be fine but they both deserve all the happiness and I think they’d be happy together

Like yeah noelle’s crush is kinda rooted in self loathing and like being aroused by fear and danger but I think that susie would actually be a real cutie pie and they’d both help each other out a lot also I wanna see the funny deer kiss the funny dinosaur

[thefabulousfab-3]

I don’t even know what to do with myself anymore.

[quibbs126]

Oh no

[itzamedee]

I forgot to post the other day but omg gift for my buddy @sanditimtom

[inamindfarfaraway]

The Trail to Oregon! (Recorded Version) Timeline

The Dikrats family begin their journey down the Oregon Trail on the 26th of July, 1848.

The trail usually took four to six months, seven at most. For the first few months, they have a significantly slower pace than the average family because of their octagonal wheeled, frequently breaking wagon and blind, deformed ox. They don’t reach the halfway point in the first three months.

Then they don’t even have a wagon at all for a month (“That’s the exact same wagon we abandoned a month ago”), presumably walking and hitchhiking if they could.

It’s winter by the start of Act Two, though apparently it “came early this year”. If they could theoretically have already made it to Oregon with a good vehicle and ox, as Jack Bauer tells the General Store Guy, this must be about five months after late July, meaning late November. The bartender whistling “Jingle Bells” means the time can be counted as the start of the broad ‘Christmas season’.

“Speedrun” is all about how they travel the remainder of the trail ludicrously fast, faster than anyone ever has before (they jump a river. In an ox-pulled wagon.), and the Columbia River washes them right up to Oregon. So that might be enough to even the time out to within the average six months.

The time between “Wagon on Fire” and “Caulk the Wagon” is enough for McDoon (the Bandit King ✌️), Cletus and Mouthface to reach the Columbia River right at the tail end of the trail. With one of those months being between acts, I think “Speedrun” covers one more month.

The line “It’s a Christmas miracle!” when the dead family member is revived/turns out to have been faking puts that scene maybe not necessarily on Christmas day, but near it, when Christmas spirit is generally in the air. Reaching Oregon in late December makes sense with all the other data.

You know what this means? Their journey could be exactly six months to the day!