#every night i stg

[dimonds456]

"I should probably go to sleep."

"I should also probably go to sleep. Goodnight!"

"Goodnight!"

[hangs up Discord call]

[scrolls through tumblr into the vacuum of time]

[when the fuck did it become 5:30 AM]

"...shit."

[yumemiruuuu]

Chu Wanning: You are driving a car and all of a sudden, there is an elderly woman and a young child crossing the road. What do you hit?

Mo Ran: (in deep thought)

Mo Ran: The elderly, because she already had her fill of life but the young child has barely experienced life yet so it would be a shame if he got killed.

Chu Wanning: …

Mo Ran: Or you can hit them both if you want to be a little silly

Chu Wanning: The BRAKES, Mo Weiyu. YOU HIT THE BRAKES.

[deus-ex-mona]

sometimes, i think about how crazy the meoto plotline is

[synthshenanigans]

I feel like it was a mistake putting these two against each other in the first set of rounds...

Instrumental Links:

Dream

Light

[Reblog for more of a sample size of you'd like]

[bellsisokay]

Warden but make her ✨Fancy✨

[peachfruitcake]

hii I’m almost at 1k followers thanks so much for the love lately guys!!!! It’s very motivating anyways I got anon enabled now so plz behave if u send me anything much love xoxoxo ʕ”̣̫Ɂ

[mushed-kid]

daily headache hit

[byanyan]

🍙+ homemade spicy ramen with an egg on top

feed the raccoonㅤㅤ∘ ˚ ( accepting )

ㅤthe very moment that the bowl is set before them, byan is diving in excitedly, a grin set across their face in place of offering any verbal thanks (for the moment, at least... it'll come later, for sure). noodles are being slurped up in a matter of seconds, and their eyes are closing over as the flavour hits their tongue, earning a quiet noise of appreciation from somewhere in the back of their throat.

ㅤㅤ" oh my godddd... "ㅤwords slip out the second their mouth is free enough to allow for them, and they're tipping their head back almost as if they're having some sort of religious experience. sol's cooking has always been good; he's made them enjoy foods that, in the past, they'd been skeptical of. but this... this is on another level entirely. maybe ramen being one of their staple foods is playing a part in how enjoyable they're finding it, or maybe it has something to do with the amount of spice being exactly on their level... whatever the case may be, it's incredible. they need more.

head lifting once again, byan leans back over the bowl and shoves another mouthful of noodles in, humming yet another positive note while they savour the taste. they keep eating like that for another solid few minutes, chopsticks raising the next bite to their lips before they've even finished chewing the last, until they finally lean back in their seat and peel their eyes open, gaze lifting to sol's face.

ㅤㅤ" babe... you're gonna ruin instant ramen for me. "ㅤif there's an accusatory note to their voice, it's entirely playful.ㅤ" this shit's amazin'. like, actually the best ramen i've ever had. maybe even the best meal i've ever had! —please tell me there's more? one bowl ain't gonna be enough, i can tell ya that right now. "

[liroyalty]

@divinityunleashed said: James Ironwood vc: "It doesn't feel right. I'd rather call you by your name or ma'am. Unless you prefer I call you something else that compliments you?"

"'Highness' works, more fitting for a princess." Oh, she likes this one. "I'm Suzana of Kronascre, the Dragon Heiress, so you know, a pleasure~"

[kindahoping4forever]

Ash @ Take My Hand Newcastle - 7 December 2022

[publicuniversalenemy]

just want to assure all my friends and followers that, even though i havent been active in Ages, im still up to the usual: realizing that im more mentally ill than i initially thought, and calling aggressively heterosexual 80s singers faggots <3

[sketchy-scribs-n-doods]

Bee and Argie, Billy and Argyle

Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes.

Arturo Guillermo, and a friend that calls him Guille, Artie, Argie.

A red faced Billy that pronounces Guillermo as ‘Gah-ee-ler-moh’ before learning that ‘ll’ makes a ‘yuh’ sound in Spanish.

Artie calling him Bee-yee, and later Bee, as a joke because of it.

Billy tosses out nicknames like the affection he’s never been sure how to express. But he loves the way his friend's name rolls off his tongue, the syllables strange and clunky and a challenge that Billy readily takes up. Soon, it falls full and melodic from his lips, prettier than any song he's ever heard on the old radio his mom left him with.

Mi amigo, Arturo.

Argie tells him not to sweat it, but Billy doesn’t understand why nobody else seems to want to make the effort. Like it’s too difficult, or like Argie isn’t worth the effort. Most of the other Mexican kids at school already know how to pronounce the names that give their white teachers pause, but outside of that demographic there’s a pathetic lack of effort that incites Billy sometimes. 

“Don’t sweat it, bro. Not everyone can roll their Rs as good as you.”

“What, like it’s hard? Fuckin’ idiots.”

(Years later, when they find each other again, Billy will know why his old friend Argie goes by Argyle, because Argyle will nudge him with a serene little smile of his and say, “Long time no see, Bee. Your ol’ pal Artie Gyle-ermo missed you, amigo.”)

Once, early in their friendship, Billy asks Argie why he has so many damn names. Why does he need like half a dozen of them? And Argie says,

“Well, I dunno. I think it makes me pretty damn special, though. How many ‘Arturo Guillermo Franco Valdes’ do you know?”

“Just you, obviously. But that doesn’t mean much, I don’t know any other ‘William Hargrove’s either.”

“Maybe not. But it’s prolly a lot easier for some random Hargrove to be named Billy than for someone to line up a buncha random names to smash together and create a Franco Valdes named Arturo Guillermo.”

“That ‘random Hargrove’ is me, jackass!”

“Exactly!”

“At least my name’s not a fuckin’ mouthful!”

“Oh, so I’m a mouthful, am I?”

“Fuck you!”

A few months later, well into Billy's friendship with Argyle, the kid invites him over to his place to check out his new bike or something, Billy doesn't remember.

What he does remember is meeting Argyle's dad and paternal grandma, Nana Hermelinda.

It's getting colder, for California at least, and Nana insists on making the kids chocolate abuelita while Argyle's dad is at work. A much richer hot chocolate than Billy is used to, the smell is spicy sweet and warm in the air as it foams up in the pot Nana is using, instead of the mild chemical sweetness of the mugs Billy puts in the microwave when he can sneak a packet of Swiss Miss in the winter. Her worn, wrinkled hands make quick work of it, expertly spinning between them a wooden stick with rotating round bits at the end that goes into the frothy mix. Nana calls it a molinillo when she sees him looking at it, and rather than freeze up over being caught staring, as he normally would, Billy instead finds himself trying to pronounce the new word for the remaining five minutes the chocolate takes to finish. The air feels almost soft around him, pleasantly warm and sweet like cinnamon as Nana lets the mixture cool while she searches for mugs in the cabinet above them. When she offers him his own, a brown mug with a rounded bottom and pretty dotted flower designs on its shiny finish, Billy is shy and hesitant to take it. But the warmth as he wraps his chilly fingers around it is welcoming and its smells so good. The first sip is cautious, slow like he's still unsure about whether he's allowed something so warm and comforting.

It's incredible.

Billy's pretty blue eyes light up like Argyle has never seen before. He can feel his heart thump awkwardly in his chest as those baby blues shine bright in the soft yellow light of the kitchen.

Then Billy lowers the mug, and a little mustache of foamed milk and chocolate lines his upper lip. Argyle quickly forgets the brief stutter of his heartbeat and cackles at the sight.

Billy is too busy having a religious experience over his mug of hot chocolate to bother with telling him to shut up like he normally would, but he doesn't truly mind- he likes the sound of Argie's loud bouncing laughter.

Nana looks fondly at them over her own mug, sitting comfortably on a stool by the kitchen counter as Billy politely thanks her for the drink with what little clumsy Spanish he's learned from Argyle so far. She coos at him, putting down her mug as she answers in a kind, lilting Spanish that Argyle will later tell him roughly means, "Of course, love. Come here whenever you like. I will make you a mug anytime, son." Billy inhales the warm steam wafting up from the mug he holds tight as Nana places a gentle hand on his cheek and calls him mijo.

Years later, Billy still remembers it as one of the last times he'd felt so held and cared for.

[witchcraftingboop]

I will never understand why men think trying to insult/degrade me is flirting. For people I like it may work, sure, but criticizing my coffee and talking habits to keep a conversation going and trying to "gently" scare me into fearing for my life is not cute. My brain takes a while to mull over interactions and pinpoint what/where my source(s) of ire are, and today I am full of a quiet burning malice

[geddy-leesbian]

think i had something unhinged to post but then the sleep med kicked in and i don't remember what it was. goodnight

[takinghisbow]

p sure i actually have bronchitis ✌️

[lupismaris]

True Love is the endless well of patience Athos has for the man in front of him whining about the child he's just had with the Queen of France