#your worst enemy

[troubledontlast1]

Sometimes your worst enemy is your own memory.

Let it go.

[kraftwerk113]

Life´s too short for weird music Tagesempfehlung 20.05.2024

Maximo Park / Your worst enemy

Ein neues Album von Maximo Park steht unmittelbar vor der Veröffentlichung. Und Stream of life wird vom überraschend guten Your worst enemy angekündigt.

[chrisengel]

[separatist-apologist]

Do you see how I dislike a ship without turning it into a moral crusade? Very demure, very cutesy. I don't stalk the tags of ships I hate. I don't stir up the ship war when I get bored. Very demure. Very mindful.

[cup-o-stars]

Over the Garden Wall!

(Plus Wirt how I remember him)

[holy-reference-in-a-username]

please gimmie eduardo i need eduardo art i am eduardo starved

just went through all of @jeffrrandell's blog and BOY eduardo has grown on me. absolutely LOVE their hcs on this guy. still figuring out my takes on the neighbors, but since i'm here...

Hahaha ONE!!!

[mistrelfox]

[spacerelativity]

nine!simm!master

[mochinomnoms]

Riddle + Yuu’s telepathy for an hour+ Floyd next to him= Why is Riddle looking like he is about to have another Ob?

He now know Floyd is into him, more wild if Floyd has the same 18+ thoughts as Jade. Riddle’s hair is becoming white and his cheeks go as red as his hair because Floyd is also thinking of the most domestic scenarios with him.

He can’t catch a fucking break.

Worse if Yuu and Jade are there. Holy fuck Riddle will die.

When you begged Riddle to let you test your new power and transfer your telepathy over for just a class period, he was just trying to be a good friend.

And he was mildly curious how your mind reading powers worked. He was under the assumption that you had to choose a specific person and listen into their thoughts for it to work. Which made your predicament with Jade all the more humorous to him. If you were so bothered by it all, then why did you listen in?

My cute little Riddle~ Aaaah, you're so bright. So red. I love your red hair, your red cheeks when your mad. Should I call you Goldfishie again? To piss you off? So you can yell at me with those pretty gray eyes and voice? Aha, maybe I should~

I think I should beg for the Prefect's forgiveness after this. I am so, so sorry. I didn't realize how bad it was.

Riddle had no clue how you handled the influx of noise, color, and feeling bashing into your head all day. It was like having a horn ringing straight into his ear while a truck's headlights flashed right in his eyes.

Even worse than that? He could make out the singular, most irritating noise, louder than the rest.

My little goldfish, my little tyrant, my little Riddle~

The bane of his existence. The enforcer of Octavinelle. Currently, the third-tallest student at Night Raven College.

"Uh, Riddle?"

Riddle took a deep breath, closing his eyes and turning towards Silver with a polite smile.

"Yes, Silver?"

Silver opened his mouth, closed it again as he paused, and opened it again.

"Are you alright?"

Cute little goldfish~ So bright and red~

"Yes." Riddle ignored the heat pooling under his face. "Why do you ask?"

"You're incredibly red right now. I think even your hair looks pink compared to your face."

Riddle made a strangled sounding noise as he buried his head into his arms and hid against the desk.

"Riddle?" Silver sounded concerned, and Riddle could sense his hands hovering over him, like he wasn't sure if Riddle needed a pat on the back, or to be left alone.

"I'm fine, I just need a moment—"

"Little Goldfishie~"

Riddle bolted up, his head nearly smacking against Floyd's chin based on the way the teal-haired man felt backwards.

"Wow! Cool it Goldfishie!" Aw, he's so cute! "Just tryin' to say hi~"

The image of himself in Floyd's arms and lap, nuzzled up against each other as the other contentedly played with his hands flashed in his head.

My goldfishie! My little red tyrant! My Riddle! Mine, mine mineminemineminemine—

"NO I'M NOT!"

The room went silent, everyone looking over at the group of three. Noticing that Riddle and Floyd were interacting, everyone shrugged and resumed their conversations after a moment.

"Uh, what?" Floyd looked and sounded confused. Now that Riddle was paying attention to him though, he could make out a soft look in his eye.

Aw, are you red 'cause you're sick? Is my mean little mate sick?

Mate? Mate?! MATE! OH GODS NO!

Do I gotta take you to the nurse? I can do it! Anything for my future mate! Aha~ I love my mate, I'll take such good care of you.

Riddle was met with another image of Floyd and himself in another...sweet scenario. One where Floyd was watching him sleep in with one of the most tender looks Riddle had ever imagined on Floyd's face. As he slept, Floyd played with the coral colored ring on his left ring finger.

"Nothing! It's nothing! I'm fine!" Riddle scrambled out of his chair, face still warm and his stomach nauseous.

"I think I'm just feeling a bit feverish, I think I will step out for a bit—"

"You want someone to take ya to the nurse?" Floyd asked, while Silver nodded along. "I can take ya, come on Lil' Goldfishie—"

"I DON'T NEED AN ESCORT!" Riddle shut his mouth as soon as he opened it, some of the other students giving him a look for his volume.

Aw what, come on! Floyd frowned, though it breifly was hidden by one of Floyd's lazy smiles as he shrugged.

"Whatever you say~" Floyd cooed, his eyes following Riddle as he rushed out of the classroom. Riddle could feel his entire body heating up, like Floyd knew that he knew.

Once he was out of the classroom, he near bolted to the nearest bathroom. Locking the door behind him, Riddle turned to look at himself in the mirror.

He was indeed his characteristic shade of red. Instead of his usual angry expression, though, was one of fluster and breathlessness.

Riddle let out a small, high-pitched whimper as he turned for the faucet for some cold water, splashing it on his face. He looked up at the mirror again, cheeks still bright red, and let out a whine.

I will never make light of you again, Prefect, I promise.

[bettertwin1]

Nothing more humbling than trying to pull the blanket up and punching yourself square in the jaw instead.

[scribz-ag24]

Who hasn't heard about the Great Dusknoir? :D

(scene inspired by the post-game of the romhack Special Episode 0, go check it out, it's available in English :DD https://x.com/PKMM_ESPEP0/status/1779568235437863046)

[lovesickeros]

popping in randomly after almost an entire month just to talk non stop about the tsaritsa again everyone sit down.

specifically just thinking about the implications of tsaritsa's ideals originally being about love + the abandonment of those ideals to complete her goal of, presumably, destroying Celestia or whatever she's cooking up. to the point even her people don't love her and I probably don't even remember a time her ideals were of love. now it's all just ice and snow and cold.

which makes romantic fics w her even funnier because she's purposely removed this part of herself and suddenly reader walks into teyvat like they own the place (they do) and I can only imagine her reaction. angry, probably. because why you? what are you doing to her that's caused her hundreds of years of strict adherence to rejecting "love" both from others and to others to just. collapse. absolute shattering of her world and you probably don't even know it bc if nothing else she's good at hiding it. a lot of denial. tries to pick you apart and see what's makes you so different.

and oh she just hates it. she loathes it.

basically one sided enemies to lover trope because she can't stand you for a while but if you stick around she starts warming up to you and it makes it WORSE. so much worse. tries to distance herself but your just everywhere and it gets on her nerves because why does she love you? she isn't capable of love, not anymore. she thought she was.

g-d forbid one of the harbingers or PIERRO notices she'd never live it down. might even consider the implications of just killing you (she doesnt). worse if you know about it and act like a brat she will lose her damn mind

just the tsaritsa being an absolutely horrible mess internally.

[harbingersecho]

HEAD LIKE A HOLE, BLACK AS YOUR SOUL I'D RATHER DIE THAN GIVE YOU CONTROL

[miffy-junot]

Look what I found at the national portrait gallery!

[lilacthebooklover]

Shadowvanilla with prompt 35

35. “You heard me. Take. It. Off.”

“You heard me!” Shadow Milk smiles sharply. His voice is playful as ever, but the glint in his eyes is deadly serious. Pure Vanilla listens closely as the mirth in his tone evaporates, that unearthly stare boring into him more intensely than ever before. “Take. It. Off.”

Subconsciously, the healer feels his hand drift towards his Soul Jam. It thrums with power beneath his fingers, simultaneous reassurance and warning pulsating through the azure jewel. It clings to his robes like it knows what will happen if it is removed, and Pure Vanilla finds himself shaking his head before he even realises what he’s doing.

“No,” he says, voice definite. Shadow Milk is capable of putting him through torture beyond comprehension, but Pure Vanilla will not falter. He can’t afford to, not when so much is at stake. He steels his gaze, tightens his grip, and offers a denial that can only be met with fury.

As expected, the world twists and warps around him, the warm, fuzzy edges of his dreamlike prison distorting into a tangle of blackened tendrils, creeping and twisting and grabbing. Pure Vanilla is safe when he’s awake. That doesn’t stop Shadow Milk from trying to convince him to surrender when unconscious. The Dark Side of the Moon is an otherworldly place; in a sense, Pure Vanilla wonders if he ever sleeps at all, anymore. He certainly doesn’t feel rested just then.

“No?” The jester echoes finally, head tilting eerily to the side. Pure Vanilla does his best not to shudder at the anger he feels emanating from Shadow Milk in waves. “Hmm. You know,” His voice dips into something between a purr and a growl, tracing his finger down Pure Vanilla’s jaw. The Beast is a master of deception, and Pure Vanilla knows as much. That doesn’t stop the urge he feels to lean into the first warm touch he’s felt in what feels like centuries. “This would be so much easier if you stopped resisting. So stubborn, Vanilly! I’d be impressed if it wasn’t so infuriating.” 

The grip on his jaw tightens, and Pure Vanilla desperately hopes that determination masks the fear in his eyes as they’re wrenched towards Shadow Milk’s own. He’s too close, Pure Vanilla thinks distantly, sickening anxiety slithering under his skin. The scorching, gentle touch he provides is something the healer both despises and craves, and he hates himself for the latter.

“No matter,” Shadow Milk softens again, stroking against Pure Vanilla’s cheek. He should fight back. He doesn’t. “You’ll come around eventually.” The steady tick of a clock begins to echo in Pure Vanilla’s ears, unnatural and loud and far too damning.

“It’s only a matter of time.”

[columboscreens]