#I almost made myself cry writing this

[clonemando]

A Kiss a Day in May

Day 23- Last Kisses

Fox/Thorn

Warning: this one is sad :(

Each day this month I have a 100 word drabble featuring a different clone with a kiss prompt. Not all are romantic and they include all sorts of pairings and relationships. Feel free to offer pairing/ character suggestions for future days.

Fox never liked watching his men leave Coruscant. Just because Amidala wasn't abusive to the Guard didn't mean she wasn't on the top of his most dangerous list. Now she was taking Thorn with her.

Thorn wasn't worried. "You'll be seeing my perfect face here so fast it'll give you whiplash! I love you but you worry too much!" He had said cheerfully and gave him a quick kiss before hurrying off to ready his men. He never came back.

If Fox had known it would be their last kiss he would have kissed him forever so he couldn't go.

[foreveranevilregal]

Encantober Day 6: Heart

It was a week before Antonio’s gift ceremony. Technically, it was also a week before his birthday, but in the Madrigal family, one celebration took clear precedence. Julieta was in the kitchen, pulling together dough for some arepas. For some reason, her family always liked those best. Keeping her company at the table was Mirabel, surrounded by her box of multicolored threads and swatches of bright fabric.

Julieta snuck a glance at Mirabel. The girl was so focused on her work, worrying her lip as she put together bits of fabric in different patterns. It warmed Julieta’s heart.

“What do you think, mamá?” Mirabel held up two different colored swatches: one a lighter brown, one darker.

Julieta tapped her chin, thinking. “Show me again what you’re using as the base.”

Mirabel pointed to a strip of bright yellow fabric. “That one.”

“Then I’d go with this one.” Julieta selected the lighter shade. “It matches better.”

Mirabel nodded sagely. “You’re right. Thanks, mamá.” Humming to herself, she set down the other swatch and set out cutting the one in her hand.

This was a very special project for Mirabel. For Antonio’s ceremony (and birthday…whatever…), she was sewing him a stuffed jaguar toy. Ever observant, Mirabel had noticed that Antonio gravitated towards animals, and wanted to make him a present reflecting that. Jaguars were big, brave, and strong, Mirabel said. She could see Antonio was nervous about the ceremony, considering what had happened at the last one, and wanted to offer him some comfort.

Someone lesser might be envious, or even bitter, that Antonio would get to experience what she hadn't. But that simply wasn't Mirabel's style. Kindness spilled out of her like water from a spring. All she had ever wanted was what was best for people.

Kneading her dough, Julieta watched Mirabel out of the corner of her eye and smiled. She loved all her children, of course. They were all treasures in their own right. But Mirabel…Mirabel was special. Despite having been skipped over by the Madrigal gift (a fact that had never changed Julieta’s view of her), Mirabel was able to bring light wherever she went. What she lacked in magical power, she made up for in kindness, enthusiasm, and hard work.

At first, Julieta had worried about her. Not getting a gift as a Madrigal-born is something that had never happened in living memory, and as relieved as Julieta was that Mirabel would be spared the pressure placed on herself, Pepa, and the other children, she was also concerned about how others would see her. Just like she feared, people began treating Mirabel differently from the other Madrigals. A more cynical person might say they weren’t as inclined to be kind since Mirabel didn’t have a gift to offer them. Julieta was more charitable. She chalked it up to ignorance and their own pain, as well as seeing how some of Mirabel’s own family members treated her. That was an ugly truth she could not deny. As much as she’d talked to her girls (and her niece and nephew when appropriate), children were forgetful and could be unintentionally cruel. Her mamá...that was a different story.

However, none of this cruelty discouraged Mirabel. If anything, it made her even more determined to prove that she could contribute to this family just like the rest of them. Although her contributions may not have been as conspicuous, Julieta certainly noticed them.

When a kid was alone and had no one to play with, Mirabel played with them. When Dolores needed someone to listen to her for a change, Mirabel was there. When Camilo needed a breather from being whoever people needed him to be, Mirabel cheered him up with jokes and goofy songs.

The list went on. She would sit with her tía and let Pepa feel her feelings, no matter how it affected the weather. She’d helped her parents with chores; taking on laundry and ironing all by herself. Her papá had shown her the way around a needle and thread when she was younger, and Mirabel had taken to it instantly. One by one, she’d embroidered designs on all of their clothing, each personalized to reflect the wearer’s gift and personality. Whenever Julieta needed help, Mirabel was always there to lend a hand, no matter how unpleasant the task.

She never complained. She was never ungrateful. Instead, Mirabel gave of herself in every way she could. Julieta could not be prouder of how her little girl was growing up.

A stack of arepas filled the waiting plate next to the stove. The sun moved across the sky. Julieta had been so absorbed in her thoughts that she hadn’t noticed the time fly by. Letting out a deep breath, Julieta turned off the stove and turned to face Mirabel.

She was focused intently on her work, sewing a seam on the jaguar. Bits of fluff poked out of the toy, some landing in Mirabel’s hair and on her clothes. Finally, she set down her needle with a flourish. “All done!” She announced excitedly.

“Let me see,” Julieta prompted her, waving her forward encouragingly.

Mirabel held out the toy.

The jaguar was covered in spots cut out of the fabric they’d chosen together, sewn in place with every color of thread Julieta could think of. It had buttons for eyes, a pink nose, and even cute little whiskers sewn on. In other words, it was-

“Perfect,” Julieta pronounced, clapping her hands together.

Mirabel brightened. “You really think so?”

“Absolutely.” Julieta nodded. “He’s going to love it, Mira.”

Mirabel jumped out of her seat, wrapping her mom in an enthusiastic hug. “Thanks! Now I just have to hide him so I don’t ruin the surprise.” She scrambled around to tidy up her work area, corralling her various bits and scraps in their box. Once she’d gotten everything to fit (the absence of one jaguar’s worth of material making it easier), she ran upstairs.

Julieta washed the dishes she had dirtied up while cooking. Sure, Mirabel hadn’t received a magical gift. But her heart was the biggest gift of all.

[soulless-bex]

was listening to music while driving, as one does, when my brain, the silly little thing goes:

wouldn’t it be funny if dick grayson killed the joker (who stays dead because he deserves to be) for killing jason and goes through a whole breakdown over whether or not jason would approve of what he did, ultimately deciding that no, jason the happy robin would not be happy with his big brother, no matter how strained their relationship may have been before his death, killing a man out of revenge

cue jason as red hood, pre identify reveal, asking nightwing about what happened to the joker (because of course bruce had it covered up, because in his twisted little mind, a vigilante permanently taking out the mass murderer who is singlehandedly the number one cause of death in gotham would break the gothamites’ trust in them). nightwing admits, because since the joker is dead jason doesn’t have a reason to push the dramatics as much, he’s just fucking with the bats and keeping crime alley safe, and jason has his turn at a breakdown because he just found out someone actually avenged him

emotional reunion. everyone is happy. the end.

[lukecastellanshandholder]

Walk with me on this idea…

Now I’ve read my fair share of fanfics of Luke somehow surviving the war and most have him pretty well adjusted after all that happened. And that’s all fine and good!

… but what if he did live and he was so haunted by everything that happened to the point where he’s a haunted husk? What if he found out about all of the members of the Titan Army being killed by the gods, and what if May did die when Rachel obtained the power of the oracle?

He would feel so much guilt for all of the comrades that were killed. He feels that he was at fault for recruiting all of those demigods and marching them into war. He feels guilt for the friends at camp that ended up dying in the war. He feels so much guilt for listening to Kronos and trusting him. Luke feels so much shame for falling right into Kronos’s trap even though he was manipulated. He feels at fault for everything.

So imagine him finally hitting his breaking point and wanting to just let go. He feels no anger anymore, has no wishes of dethroning the gods anymore. He only wishes for the screams that ring in his ears to be silenced and for all of the horrific pictures showing every time he closes his eyes, to finally be blacked out.

He wants death even if he knows that his afterlife won’t be pretty.

So he ventures back to where everything truly started going down hill. He goes to the Garden of Hesperides. He manages to sneak past Ladon with surprising ease this time around. He plucks an apple from the tree and sneaks back to the edge of the garden and sets up a small fire. Once it’s lit, golden flames dancing in front of him and bathing his form in light, he sets his sword and other things down beside him.

He holds the apple in his shaky hands, watching the flames grow taller almost as if they were starving for the fruit that he held in his hands.

In the distance he hears a low growl then heavy footsteps approaching him. He smiles sadly, looking into his own broken eyes in the reflection of the apple. People always did say that he had his mother’s eyes.

When he heard the footsteps almost right behind him, he closed his eyes and took a deep breath. With one movement of his hand he tossed the apple into the flames, the sweet smell permeating the area around him. The smell seemed almost familiar, he could’ve sworn it smelt like chocolate chip cookies baking in the oven.

There was a loud roar right behind him now, the ground shook underneath him and his teeth rattled in his skull.

A sad smile spread across his lips as with his last breath he uttered the words, “To Hermes.”

With a sudden swipe of Ladon’s claws, Luke couldn’t hear or see anything. The screams had stopped, the images had finally faded. The only thing he could sense was the warm feeling of being wrapped up in a blanket of comfort, the smell of cookies cooking in the oven and the sight of warm blue eyes watching over him as he descended into oblivion.

[redriotinggg]

CW for food, eating habits, and eating disorder (?)

// // //

thinking about usopp having a really weird relationship with food when he returns to the crew after boin.

he digs into the meals sanji prepares with the same enthusiasm he always has, but the chef notices the sniper is much more careful in how much he consumes. quietly, sanji watches for weeks as usopp eats just enough to fill himself. before sabaody, usopp would gorge himself on food, drink, and dessert until he physically couldn’t eat any more. he’d fight luffy tooth and nail for every bite. now, sanji sees usopp eat no more than one and half servings of a meal before pushing his remnants luffy’s way. he watches as usopp, who used to be as much as a meat enthusiast as luffy, piles his plate with more vegetables than protein or carbs. usopp, who sanji knew to love cake and ice cream, now limits himself to one slice or a single, small bowl.

so sanji adapts. he experiments with the quantity of food he gives the sniper until he gets it just right. he doesn’t say anything about it to him—eating and food habits are personal, after all. as long as he’s eating, it’s fine.

usopp tells him what changed of his own accord, one night when he’s on watch and sanji comes to deliver a midnight snack.

“i’m sorry for not eating as much of your food, lately,” usopp says, sipping on the tea sanji had brought.

“i overindulged on boin,” he explains. “the whole island was made up of some of the most delicious food i’d ever had. it was a trap, of course. so the island could lure fattened prey into its belly. but i fell for it at the beginning. just gorged myself on anything i could get my hands on. the stuff that grew on boin was addictive. i never went hungry. but…

“i lost myself to the island in a lot of ways. the worst was when i lost myself to the food. every time, i knew i should stop but i just couldn’t. it’s like my mind and body weren’t my own. it was terrible.

“i got big. i didn’t hate my body or anything, i just hated that it felt as if i didn’t have control of it anymore. that i didn’t have control of myself. it’s a terrifying thought at any time, but being alone and knowing that luffy and the rest of you were waiting for me, and waiting for me to come back stronger while i could barely get a handle on my own eating habits scared me more than anything. how could i be useful to the crew when i couldn’t control my own appetite? it was so, so hard. i had to be more disciplined than i ever have been.

“and now i’m back here and your food scares me ‘cause it’s better than anything i had on boin or anywhere else. i’m scared that one day i’ll lose control again, so i’ve been super careful. i’m sorry if i’ve hurt your feelings or anything. it just… hasn’t been easy.”

the two sit in silence for a while as they both reflect on usopp’s words. eventually, sanji speaks up, his visible eye meeting both of usopp’s. he rests his hand atop usopp’s, curling his fingers around the digits.

“thank you for telling me. as humans, our relationship with food can get really weird, at times. sometimes for a long time or even forever. but i’m glad that you’re eating despite what happened. and i promise that everything will be okay. you won’t lose control of yourself again. and if you do, i’m here to help. all of us are. but from now on, when you eat you don’t need to think, okay? just let me feed you and enjoy. i’ll take care of the rest.”

usopp looks at sanji, eyes wide with numerous emotions flickering across his face. he’d almost forgotten this in his two years away. how it feels to be cared for by someone who wants the best for you. to be seen so fully by someone who will do anything to keep you happy and safe. tension falls from his shoulders. the burden he has been carrying upon them has been relieved.

“okay,” usopp says with a tremble in his voice. he sniffles and blinks back tears. he leans his head on sanji’s shoulder and returns the grip on his hand. “thank you.”

sanji’s reply is silent as he rests his head atop usopp’s. anytime.

[ardenrabbit]

Due to a half-hour traffic slowdown with Kesha's "Praying" on repeat, I truly have no idea how long ALASR is gonna be in the end but it's gonna be a fucking masterpiece

[emberglowfox]

i kind of knew in theory that all my hobbies involved my hands but i kind of just ignored it n was like oh well im sure id manage

top ten pics taken seconds before disaster

[lonelylonelyghost]

The Spirealm episode 17 Extra

As promised,

THE DUMPLING SCENE (TM)

"Nobody informed me that having feelings could be so overwhelming."

"He noticed my staring..."

"I hope it wasn't too weird."

"Anything"

"How to say that you've been literally made for this without sounding insane"

"I've been created for the sole purpose of helping you to pass the game, but after meeting you I began to feel things I wasn't supposed to. It was just a coincidence, but it was also inevitable"

"I am made of darkness, and you are the light that will lead me to my doom. I've always known this and still I will gladly follow you until the very end..."

"...So allow me to accompany you for just a little bit longer"

[friendlyneighbourhoodelf]

commander fox’s terrible, no good, very bad day

try not to breathe

rated T | word count 3,055

summary -

He breathed in harshly, fighting to control himself despite knowing it was a hopeless aim. Around him were the only remains of Cody he would ever see, the man he had been reduced to a datapoint in a report.

A horrible little noise escaped his throat and Fox shuddered again, digging his fingers desperately into his thighs as if somehow this would stop the terrible, curling pain that racked his body. He had known despair and grief before, of course he had, but each time it seemed as if it were a new creature. Each time it tore at him, uncaring that he had before experienced its teeth in his flesh, the pain was fresh and sharp and new.

Cody is dead and Fox is forced to take his place. He grieves for the man that his brother was; hates, but cannot refuse, what he being asked to do to his memory.

inspired by the end of the line by @larcenistarsonist

[sehtoast]

me: MY HAIRLINE IS RECEDING OH NO OH FUCK

also me: full time student (worth noting i wrote stupid here at first without realizing), 20-30 hours in customer service every week, teaching myself 3/4 classes, teaching myself advanced algebra with a teacher (basically just a proctor) who shuts down any/all asks for help, juggling college financial woes, navigating dying relationships/people abandoning and/or attacking me bc i don't have time for things i used to anymore, none of my hobbies are making me happy when and if i have time for them,, i have no time for myself, i'm on my second all-nighter this week, i'm perpetually exhausted in a way sleep isn't fixing, my body aches because i'm so tired, and i'm barely able to stay asleep when i do get the chance bc the anxiety wakes me up

my hairline: two hops this time!

[stobinesque]

things you didn’t say at all (platonic stobin)

here you are 💙this, uh, came out angstier than intended rating: G | wc: 276 | cw: angst, hurt/comfort, ambiguous loss

“Bobby.” Steve’s voice cracks as he speaks into the receiver.

“I’ll be there in twenty.”

The line clicks on the other end, and Steve rolls onto his back, staring up into the empty expanse of white. The house is silent around him. Too large and too small all at once. Once upon a time it had been a home they were building. Now it feels like an echoing mausoleum interning his frozen corpse. Like bars of a cage. Bands of iron tightening around his chest.

Keys rattle in the door. Then heavy footfalls, and clambering in the entryway.

Steve blinks, and Robin is standing over him. There’s a duffel slung over one shoulder, a pint of Chubby Hubby in her hand. Steve reaches out, and she hands it over, followed immediately by a spoon. Her bag drops to the ground, and a moment later Robin sprawls out next to him.

She doesn’t say anything. Just folds her hands over her sternum and turns to watch him as he digs into the ice cream.

“She’s gone.” He says it around his seventh or eighth mouthful. And then he’s crying.

Robin takes the carton from his hands. Sets it aside. Opens her arms. Draws him in.

The tears come in waves. He’s hiccuping into her neck. Sobbing and soaking the front of her shirt.

She’s his anchor. Silent and stalwart, holding him in place even as he shakes and shivers in her grasp.

She buries her nose into his hair, rocking him gently, and humming something tuneless.

I love you I love you I love you her heart beats into his ear. I’m here, I’m here, I’m here.

send me a pairing and a prompt!

[pipippizz]

body worship w/ Nagi....

Like just imagine him slowly stripping you Of your clothes while telling you how beautiful you look...kissing your skin and whispering sweet nothings into your ear as he slowly removes your undergarments until your a completely bare and flushed mess while saying how absolutely devine you are....

you . you get me . you understand my vision

minors do not read or interact !!!!

gn reader — body worship . thats really it www its really soft ( a rare luxury here on the pipippizz blog ) kinda religious-y oops

with the way nagisa was raised, worship is second nature to him. you can't change my mind on that. it's almost like it's in his blood to treat you like some sort of deity, someone so ethereal and divine, and he makes sure you know this.

his hands trace down your sides as he moves to take off your shirt, lips against your neck as he tells you how breathtaking you are. pulling off your pants and moving you into his lap while he tells you that you're all he's ever wanted, all he's ever needed. he kisses at every little part of your body that he can reach while his hands grope at your ass, and he hums like he's the happiest he's ever been when you start to whine at his actions.

he starts stretching you while you're in his lap because he loves looking up at you. he loves how the lights of the bedroom make you seem like an angel, shining and bright. his angel. his. he echoes this to you as your hands grip his shoulders, hips grinding against his hand. the two, maybe three fingers scissor you open for him, and you bless him with moans just as pure as he views you.

by the time he's moving inside you, you're on your back, so he can watch you and tell you more directly how perfect you are. he coos as you melt underneath him, one leg over his shoulder, his hands holding you so gently. he'd hate to bruise someone so lovely, someone he treasures more than anything. he praises you for taking him so well as he picks up speed, fucking into you while his composure starts to slip.

his endless compliments start to get interrupted by his own moans, hands twitching with restraint from gripping you too tightly. even then, he says, "you're just too perfect, i can't control myself around you."

nothing you do right now could upset him. maybe ever. he loves you and this is just one of the ways he can show it. you're his angel.

[ohitslen]

OHMYFUCKINGGOD ON THE TOPIC OF VASHWOOD IMMM OKAY UH HOW THeY uuUH cooking meals for each other,?,, mhmbqnd yeA h DOMESTIC? ?? Yes but UM UH, more like, sharing a simple moment doing such a simple thing, yet in spite of how simple the thing is they rarely get to enjoy it, and now that they do it’s togETHER— I WILL,, OHGOD….

What if. Wait a minute. I’m an artist what the fuck.

[oflightningandstars]

"I missed you"

Thinking about Milligan being out on a mission for far longer than it was supposed to go. There was some snag or another, or several, and he's been out for multiple days when the mission was supposed to be done in under two. This is during TPD, when everyone is in Mr. Benedict's house, so everyone has been going about their days, the children with their lessons, the adults helping them, and everyone worrying, and trying to pretend like they aren't. They have all sat down for dinner when the unmistakable sound of the front door opening reaches them. Everyone tenses, a little, before Milligan's jaunty whistle follows and sets everyone at ease.

Milligan arrives in the doorway a moment later, visibly a bit battered, but smiling all the same. Kate throws herself at him and he squeezes her tight, never mind the aching in his ribs. This is more important.

When Kate finally lets go, Milligan ruffles her hair and looks up at the rest of the group, who are all watching with relief visible on many of their faces, and Milligan has known them all long enough to see the relief in the others, even if it's less visible. Everyone else remained seated when he entered, except for Moocho, who had half risen out of his chair.

Milligan walks over to him, and is surprised to see tears forming in the corners of his eyes. He offers a hand to him, which Moocho takes, standing up fully. They are quite close, and Moocho can see every shade of the bruise forming on Milligan's forehead. His fingers itch to brush it, to check Milligan over and make sure he's not too hurt. He swallows it down, not wanting to break the moment. They are still quite close.

They stare at each other for a moment. The room is silent. Milligan can't bear to imagine what the others are thinking, or expressing silently to each other. He's barely sure what he himself is thinking.

"I missed you," Moocho says, a low rumble for only Milligan to hear.

And Milligan looks at Moocho and realizes that hearing those words from this wonderful man is absolutely heartbreaking. He loves him, he knows this, has known this, but in this moment it crystalizes into a solid weight he can feel in his chest.

"Well, we can't have that," Milligan says. He brings a hand up, almost in a daze, and gently tucks some hair behind Moocho's ear. When he's finished the motion, his hand remains, cupping Moocho's cheek.

A tear escapes, but before it can fall too far, Milligan sweeps it away with his thumb. He wants to do more, to hold Moocho tight, to squeeze all memory of missing away. Moocho inhales sharply, then relaxes. He turns his head slowly, without moving away from Milligan's hand.

If things had been still before, the world now feels frozen as Moocho gently kisses Milligan's palm.

Vaguely, Milligan can hear someone let out a soft "ohh," in the background, while someone else squeals quietly. It is at this moment that he remembers they are in fact standing in the dining room, in front of everybody. He starts, and moves to back away slightly. Moocho stops him, a hand on his arm.

"Milligan," he says quietly.

"Yes." It is barely a whisper.

"I love you."

"I--" the words get caught in Milligan's throat as tears form in his own eyes. He swallows hurriedly, he doesn't want to make Moocho wait anymore.

"I love you too."

The room behind them erupts into screaming cheers, most notably from Kate who, judging by the sounds, has climbed onto the table and started jumping. He meets Moocho's eyes and they share a fond look, and Milligan feels like he's about to either burst into laughter or tears.

"We should... probably go somewhere and talk, I think," Moocho says.

"Yeah."

"You didn't even eat dinner Milligan," Number Two calls, though she her smile is broad.

"Oh. Right. Uh..." But Number Two hands him a filled plate before he can do anything. He takes it gratefully, wincing as his body reminds him that in addition to being hungry, he is also tired and sore from his mission.

Moocho notices this and deftly swipes the plate from him.

"We can stop in the kitchen for some ice packs first," he says, and gently takes Milligan's hand in his free one.

Milligan squeezes slightly and lets Moocho lead him out of the room.

[eec713]

Sometimes, I like to enhance the writing process by leaving ridiculous comments on my document as I write. Then, when I go back through to edit, I get the added entertainment of being reminded of whatever clownery popped into my head as I was writing.

Some of my favorite examples from the chapter of TLWHAHD that will be uploaded on Monday are below the cut :)

[soft-serve-soymilk]

save me mages with long hair and self-esteem issues.. save me