#this really got away from me huh?

[x-i-l-verify]

Something that I've noticed ever since the Smiling Critters were introduced is that they can so easily be paired off into complementary duos, ones that are specifically designed to teach children fundamental lessons about life and self-care from two different angles. It's really interesting to me.

Like obviously you have Dogday and Catnap, with their sun/moon, dog/cat dichotomy, that stress how important it is to have fun and get things done during the day, but also that it's important to wind down, relax, and get a good night's sleep.

-

Bubba Bubbaphant and Craftycorn were introduced as a duo in the Smiling Critter show's intro, and their dichotomy is quite obvious. They are basically the right and left sides of the brain personified. Bubba is the left side of the brain, logical, analytical, focused on math and science. Craftycorn is the right side of the brain, creative and imaginative, focused on the arts and self-expression. They represent learning and academia in all its forms, the different ways people engage with and understand the world.

-

Hoppy Hopscotch and Kickin' Chicken form the sportsmanship duo. They are both portrayed as enjoying sports and the outdoors, but in different ways that highlight the different ways sports can be played and enjoyed and also what it entails to be successful at them. Hoppy Hopscotch may be loud and impatient, but she is also a team player, shown in her willingness to slow down her fast pace to make sure none of her friends are left behind. Kickin' Chicken, on the other hand, is laid-back, relaxed, and chill, the described "cool kid" of the group, but he's also described as having a ton of perseverance, more of a "slow and steady wins the race" type of person.

-

This leaves Bobby Bearhug and Picky Piggy as the last pair. Fittingly, these two are all about how to meet the fundamental needs of yourself and others. Bobby teaches children how to nourish themselves emotionally through showing and receiving care from others, while Picky teaches them how good food is important to nourish the body and soul. Depriving oneself of either of these things only makes oneself and therefore everyone around one miserable, because those fundamental needs are no longer being met.

-

Like fr, this is some pretty genius marketing right here. You have enough characters that every kid will have their favorite, but not so many that any would get lost in the shuffle, because the lessons each one of them would teach would be integral to the group as a whole. It really makes me that much sadder we saw basically nothing of the Smiling Critters during the game itself, because Mob Games struck gold with this concept, only to ultimately do nothing with it. :/

But I guess that's what fandom is for, eh?

[what-am-i-doing-in-this-fandom]

STOP I'm thinking about the part in Gravity Falls where Stan shows up with freshly bought (stolen) light bulbs only to see Ford screwing a new one in surrounded by family.

And OH my GOD. AGH.

Stan gets a little (ir)rationally upset about this because... It's.. Guys,,,

Stan perceives it as Ford once again easily receiving the praise and love of their family when he had to fight tooth and nail to receive even half of it.... I'm not well ✋😔

[hairpinturnn]

mark of cain

marc marquez + demian: the story of emil sinclair by hermann hesse

[shalomniscient]

lord above and below i’m so down horrendous for clorivia it’s not even funny 😭😭 brainrotting a clorivia x reader fic where you run a cafe with arguably the best macarons and tea in fontaine, which of course, in turn attracts rather high profile clientele to your humble store. two of your favourite customers just happen to be the most downright sinfully beautiful women in all of fontaine: the president of the spina di rosula, lady navia, and the one and only champion duelist, lady clorinde.

they used to come here often, together, in a younger, softer time, all intertwined hands and chaste kisses. but time crawls ever forward, and life is ever cruel. you see it in real time as they fall apart, a bystander constrained to the sidelines. it hurts, maybe more than it should, but you are nothing if not a good host. you sit with navia and rub her back as she weeps quietly into your shoulder, and you hold clorinde’s hand as she stares forlornly at her tea, that look of guilt seemingly etched permanently onto her face.

the wounds don’t heal, not truly, but they scab over. navia no longer cries in your arms, blossoming into her role as the president of the spina di rosula. she brings you her own baked goods sometimes, helpfully carried by the two impeccably dressed men flanking her at all times. she always sits next to you in the little private room in the parlor, pressed flush to your side as she chatters about the goings-on in fontaine. her cheer is infectious, and there’s always a smile on your face that you can’t seem to shake for the rest of the day when she leaves.

clorinde is still as reserved as ever, but she looks more like herself than she did after that fateful duel. she stops by rather often, but doesn’t stay for as long as navia does, getting a quick fix of tea before heading off to the opera epiclese. but nonetheless she always makes time to talk with you, gloved hands somehow always finding your own, idly playing with your fingers as she grumbles about some idiotic dispute she was hired to settle between cousins, or how a certain friend of hers wouldn’t stop pestering her to try and get your top-shelf teas for him on discount. (you try and give her some to pass to him, but she only looks you dead in the eyes and blandly says, “don’t. he hardly deserves it.” you, as an ever excellent host, decide not to question it.)

such was the status quo for the next decade. somehow, navia and clorinde coordinated their visits in such a way that they would never cross paths. your chest ached as you grieved what once was, but what right did you have to pry into that deep, festering wound? you could only pray to some higher power—certainly not furina, regardless of how entertaining she was as an individual—that someday those two might find peace yet again.

your prayers are miraculously answered in the form of a blonde traveler, who in the span of two weeks solved the serial disappearance case and somehow managed to get clorinde and navia speaking again. frankly, it sounds insane, but you’re not one to look a gift horse in the mouth.

clorinde comes to you first with the news, and it’s the first time you’ve ever seen the champion duelist as anything other than calm, cool and confident. there’s a flush to her cheeks and the slightest hint of a rare, girlish smile on her lips as she tells you, and for a moment you’re seized by how cute she is.

“navia… asked me to have tea with her,” she says slowly, though her giddy energy is difficult to ignore. “is her— are her tastes still the same?”

navia never lost legendary sweet tooth, and you inform clorinde as much. she brightens immediately, like a puppy that had just been praised. it’s so ridiculously cute you feel like your heart would burst. and then she’s pressing her lips to the back of your hand in farewell, before striding purposefully down the street, no doubt in the direction of the nearest bakery to scope out her options.

(and you pretend you don’t feel the gnawing loneliness in your belly, because you love her. you love her, more than you know, and more than you should.)

navia visits next, more put together than clorinde, but you’ve known her long enough to notice the nervousness in the restless movement of her hands. navia wilts on the plush cushions of the parlor, draping herself across your lap.

“it’s been so long, i don’t know if i— if clorinde—“ she begins, her voice tense and maybe even a little afraid. “what if i don’t know her anymore?”

you brush navia’s golden curls back with your hand, and meet her eyes. “isn’t that what you invited her to tea for? to relearn what you forgot, and learn what is new?”

“you always know what to say, don’t you?” navia sighs ruefully, but her eyes twinkle with affection. it makes your heart pitter-patter in your chest.

“well, i am a wonderful host.”

“yeah,” navia murmurs, her gloved hand reaching up to take your hand. “i don’t know what i’d do without you.”

her tone is achingly sincere, and you look away. a part of you fears what you would find in her gaze. a greater part fears what she would find in yours.

(love. love, steeped in the quiet confines of your soul for longer than you remember. a love that you would never give voice, because you know it is not you who navia loves.)

their fateful tea date eventually rolls around, and you hope they don’t see the way your smile wobbles as you see them walk in, navia’s arm tentatively looped around clorinde’s. clorinde says something and navia throws her head back and laughs, soulful and sweet and nothing you’d ever achieved before. you lead them to the private parlor, and before either of them can insist that you stay, for old time’s sake, you rattle off some excuse about needing to take inventory. you don’t linger long enough to see their expressions twist in concern, slipping out the door and shutting it behind you. it takes all of your willpower not to slide down the door and choke out a sob.

really, it makes no sense. they’re your closest friends. if anything, you should be ecstatic that they’ve sorted out the bad blood between them, and are mending their relationship. so why— why does your traitorous chest feel like it’s on fire when you see them together?

(deep down, you know why. you wished so desperately that they would look at you like that—like you hung the stars in the sky, like you’re more than just some normal person who happens to own a tea shop. like you’re more than just a friend.)

but you are nothing if not an excellent host, so you pack your bleeding heart back into a neat little box and go on with your work. clorinde and navia spend nearly the entire day in the parlor, and you have a waiter pop in every once in a while to top-up the tea and snacks. after the third refill, he mentions offhandedly, “i didn’t know lady clorinde and lady navia were that close! they were practically all over each other.”

your other staff coo and giggle conspiratorially, but it feels like someone had driven a blade through your chest. tears sting at your eyes and you blink furiously to clear them. in the end, you leave the shop early, passing the responsibility of closing and cleaning up to your most senior staff member. he doesn’t question your sudden need to return home, but he does put a gentle hand on your shoulder, as if to comfort you, even if he doesn’t really know what was happening.

distantly, you think you should give him a raise. he was certainly an excellent host.

you drown your sorrows in red that night, not bothering with a glass and heading straight for the bottle. you know a few nobles who would cease their patronage at your shop if they ever saw you comitting such alcoholic blasphemy, but unfortunately for them you could not find it in yourself to care. self-loathing and something just like heartbreak swirl like a storm in your soul, fierce enough that an entire bottle was barely enough to dampen it.

as you lie in bed, alone, you wonder what it would be like to share one with either of them. would clorinde curl around you, the big spoon, ever protective and honourable, even in sleep? would navia bury her face into your shoulder like she used to, her warm breath tickling over the skin of your collarbones?

in the end, you curl in on yourself.

(you wish it was enough.)

you make it a point to busy yourself with something whenever they come in together. you fire off practiced excuse after excuse whenever they invite you to join them—a meeting with a business partner, another advance booking by a client, or simply that you were just too busy. they��re weak and flimsy, but clorinde and navia do not try to get you to stay, either.

yet for some reason, they become more tactile with you than ever. navia clings onto your arm whatever chance she gets, interlocking your fingers together because she likes the way they fit in hers. clorinde tends to hover behind you sometimes, a steady hand on your lower back as you move through the crowded teahouse, her touch warm even through her gloves and the layers of your own clothes.

you can hardly look either of them in the eye anymore, and you can hardly stand to touch them, even the slightest brush of either of their fingers against your skin feeling like you’re being burned. like their touch might cut you open and suddenly you’d be bleeding your foolish longing all over the carpet.

no. you could not— would not let that happen. you wouldn’t be the one to get in between them like that. truly, you’d rather die. so you pull back and back and back, but what you don’t expect is how navia would go so far as to corner you one night as you close up the shop, her brows knitted in worry. it was just you and her, since you had sent your staff home early.

“are you alright?” she asks gently, as if she might scare you off if she spoke too loudly. “did i— have i done something to upset you?”

“no!” you sputter before you could stop yourself. “no, not at all! it wasn’t anything that you did.”

navia frowns. “but it is something.”

you bite your tongue, and look away from her piercing, blue gaze. her intelligence was always something you’d admired about her, but having it be used against you was nerve-wracking.

“it’s nothing, navia,” you whisper, mustering all your willpower to not let your voice splinter. “i have to go.”

you make to back out the door, only to collide with a lean frame. you crane your neck back and your breath hitches as your eyes meet electro purple—clorinde.

“i’m sorry,” she says, a quiet firmness in her tone, “but i cannot let you leave until i—we—understand what’s happening.”

“you both…! it’s really nothing!” your voice has gotten uncomfortably pitchy, desperation settling in your bones like dead weight. “i’m alright, really!”

“you’ve been avoiding us,” navia points out. “you can hardly even stay in the same room with both of us.”

“i don’t— i would hate to impose,” you say lamely. “i’m sure you both have plenty to catch up on, and i don’t need to be there for something so… private.”

“we want you to be there,” clorinde counters with a shake of her head. you almost laugh at the unassuming cruelty of her words.

“why?”

“because i love you,” navia says, taking your hands in hers, and for a moment you forget how to breathe. the world spins and your knees nearly give out beneath you, but clorinde is there, steady as a hammer, her front pressed to your back. she leans down, and her lips ghost the tender skin of your neck. “we love you.”

“navia is right,” she murmurs against your flesh. “i’m sorry that we perhaps did not make it clear enough for you.”

“this— what are you both even talking about? is this some kind of joke?”

navia looks almost hurt by the accusation. “of course not!” she takes one of your hands and places it on her chest, her expression one of resolute determination. “can you feel my heartbeat? can’t you feel my sincerity?”

beneath your palm, navia’s heart beats steady and true and devastatingly honest.

you bite your lip, a weak noise between a sob and a wet, disbelieving laugh bubbling from your throat. navia moves closer, wiping the tears from your eyes, much the same way you did all those years ago. after a moment, all you can manage is a weak, exhausted, “why? why me?”

you are just the owner of a tea shop. navia is the president of a national organisation well-known for helping the fontainian everyman. clorinde is the champion duelist, the best human combatant in all of fontaine. hell, you don’t even have a vision! so why—

“because you’re you,” navia answers, an easygoing smile lighting her features. “after my father died, i was lost. i didn’t even know what i wanted to do, or how i felt. if i was angry, or if i was sad. but somehow, you always knew. you were the only one who didn’t treat me like glass. you know, i don’t think i would be the person i am today without you.”

“after that duel, you were the first person to ask if i was alright,” clorinde adds softly, so close you could feel her breath fan along your ear. “you’re also the only person who picked up on my nightmares. in those coming weeks, the only reason i could sleep at night was thanks to your blends. no one… no one else cared about me like that. you’re extraordinary.”

oh, you’re really sobbing now. they’ve gone and done it.

“but aren’t you both already…?” you force out between each shaky inhale. oh archons, if you had to choose between one or the other you really would die tonight.

“yes,” clorinde affirms, “but we want you to be part of it too.”

“it’s okay if you don’t feel the same way,” navia says hurriedly, “we can forget this conversation ever happened. your friendship still means a lot to us.”

“no,” you admit. “no, i don’t think i can stay just friends. i’m a little too in love with both of you for that.”

navia beams, and she’s looking at you like you’re the centre of her world. her hands cup your cheeks, smoothing over the ridge of your cheekbones. behind you, clorinde chuckles, a low rumble as she nuzzles her face into your hair, inhaling the scent of your shampoo as her arms loop around your waist. navia leans in close, so close that her words are whispered right against your lips.

“can i kiss you?”

you answer her by surging forward and pressing your lips to hers. she greedily drinks you in, the taste of salt from your tears and the sweetness of her lip gloss mingling. navia kisses you with fervor and infectious joy, that you’re both giggling almost deliriously as you pull apart.

“i think clorinde would like a kiss too,” navia coos suggestively, wiggling her brows at the duelist behind you. clorinde rolls her eyes good-naturedly, but tilts your head up and to the side with a gloved hand, and slots her lips against yours.

your lungs empty of air as she kisses you, an electric feeling thrumming in your veins. clorinde tastes like rose tea, a blend you made especially for her, and your stomach flutters. her large hand cups your jaw as her tongue teases the seam of your lips, drawing a breathy noise from you. at some point, navia had moved closer to you, your fronts pressed flush together as she nosed at your neck, peppering the sensitive skin with butterfly kisses.

“i love you,” you whisper, sandwiched as you were between them. “both of you.”

navia hums against your neck, kissing your racing pulse. “we know.”

“we love you too,” clorinde finishes for her. she kisses you again, chaster this time, but when she pulls back there’s a glint in her purple eyes that makes heat coil in your belly. “we’ll make sure to show you tonight.”

[theflyingfeeling]

I think today I will cry about BC not making tour vlogs anymore 😔

[sysig]

Challenge level: Impossible (Patreon)

[tariah23]

How do you have kids and don’t make them do chores. I’ll never get it, man. They grow up to be one of those ppl who’s never washed a single dish before and are usually dirty and of privilege mind. Parents essentially sending their usually annoying kids out into the world to be an even further nuisance just because they don’t know how to do simple, everyday chores when they are fully capable of doing so and are able bodied.

[xanas-eye]

Earth did nothing wrong.

That's it. That's the post.

[tamagotchikgs]

my mom said my cats cant live with us in the trailer which . i just can’t do that man i cant live w/o them they are my only reason for getting up everyday,..... they’re the only thing i have irl that makes me smile or feel any amount of joy or anything whatsoever. i wonder if i could get my own used trailer too,,,,, i was looking & there r RVs for 12k,, if only i could get hired somewhere maybe i could afford it by summer :(

[chewchuck]

once again i am projecting all my shit onto that old man (overstimulating him in a horny way)

[hauntingblue]

LUFFY!!!!!!!!! I HAVE BEEN CONVERTED!!!! LUFFY BELIEVER FULL TIME!!!!! LET US WORSHIP THE SUN!!!!

[darkaac]

Fin.

[thetangibleghost]

I think we might have trauma tied to the literal feeling of falling asleep/waking up. Like we get nightmares that are just. The feeling of changing concousness but drawn out + adrenaline + terror

[anonyanonymouse]

🙈

[orcelito]

Remembering that a 4 hour psychological test means 4 hours under the examiner's microscope. I hope they let me listen to music during a written test, but idk if that would defeat the purpose or not. I... really don't know what to expect tomorrow, and it's kind of making me a bit nervous. Lol.

[dutybcrne]

I am a simple Allie: I see unhinged, I wanna put em with Taru or Kae