#havin a dilemma

[pixlmonkeys]

ok aaaaaaa ermm we r good we r so good rn errrrmmm

[tauforged]

i am suffering from lack of enrichment in my enclosure and i’m not sure what to do about it. hrm

[millerscoffee]

the soft animal of your body

812 drabble | joel miller x reader

rating: G

warnings: fluff!, established relationship.  no use of y/n.

summary: you were working on a hobby, but got distracted by joel's cheeks.

A/N: inspired by this post he truly is pookie. look at those cheeks! inspired by "wild geese" by mary oliver, too. joely baby let the soft animal of ur body love what it loves, luv x. i vaguely proofread this, soz.

"You're lookin' at me," Joel's eyes were closed on when he laid down on the couch to 'rest his eyes' while you sat on the floor beside him. You were supposed to be working on a new hobby, cross stitching. However, you ended up gazing up at your partner more than anything else.

"I can't help it," a grin in your voice, you sat up on your knees to lean over and press your lips to the soft rebound of his cheeks. "You just keepin' these all to yourself, I want to bite them."

You made Joel laugh. A sound that felt like air-bound gold every time it happened, and it was a catalyst that made his eyes open to search for your own. "I'm just keepin' these to myself?" He asked as if he didn't hear you correctly, but you knew he did. He always repeated things back to you when it was something he found sweet or silly, or innately you. His fingers fan through your hair before thumbing over your chin. "Alright, go on then."

It took a long time, a lot of therapy, for him to open up to you like this. To be allow himself to be mushy, and furthermore allow himself to experience love. Your love. You had so much to give to him.

And you didn't waste a moment when he gave you the green light. Your arms crossed over one of his shoulders, using it to lean on as you brushed and pecked the suppleness of his skin. The stubble that adorned his cheeks down to the grey at his jaw. Peppered kisses on the skin around the wrinkle of his eye.

"You havin' fun?" Joel asked playfully, the eye that was being kissed shutting.

"I am, actually. I could make a living doing this."

"Kinda do. I just agreed on my cheeks, said nothin' bout my eyes."

"Too bad," you giggled, nose tipping against his temple, the scent of his shampoo relaxed your shoulders. And it seemed to do the same to him, relaxed even more into the couch when he nestled his head into the armrest.

"Baby, just c'mere." He beckoned you, opening his arm out for you to take it. You used it then, climbing on top of Joel to stretch out on top of him. You felt so loved, special that you got to witness his softness. His fingers found the hem of your shirt and swirled light patterns from the guitar-induced calloused tips. It tickled, but you weren't willing to stop him. You needed to feel him as much as he needed to feel you. Two tactile individuals at the end of the day.

So you laid on top of him, the softness of your lips skimmed against the taut skin of his neck. The freckles that resided there. There were countless days and nights you spent pressing your lips to those spots. To count them mentally.

"You keep kissin' everywhere but my cheeks, darlin'."

"Maybe if you were less kissable I wouldn't have this problem. You see my dilemma."

That earned an exhale through his nose, filtered through his moustache. "Yeah, I reckon," honey drawled through the syllables, "I guess I should consider myself lucky. Got so much restraint."

"Now you're gettin' it," you hummed, teeth nipping at the base of his earlobe.

"Easy."

"Or what?" Your threat was quickly replaced with sweet kisses to his cheek again. Not really ready to break up the tenderness of the moment. "Nice cheeks," you replaced your words with praises before he could get to you.

"Grew 'em myself." His arms wrapped around your waist to hold you in place, to keep you close. To give every indication that he wanted this too, in the ways he knew how.

"You want anything?" Joel asked, pulling away to get a good look at you with his eyes that had vision all too blurry to be this close to you. Part of you wondered if it was because he didn't know what to do next. Never one with words, quality time had the tendency to make him anxious. Like he had all this nervous energy that disallowed himself to just be. To just exist in the present moment on the couch with a sewing tomato abandoned on the floor.

You would always come back to him no matter what you were doing.

You sat up just enough on your forearms to push his hair back as if to say, you're doing so good. As if to shout, you are letting the softness of your body do what it wants and I'm so proud of you. As if to cry, you do not need to do or be anything for me to love you. You are enough as is. And nothing, absolutely nothing could ever be better than this.

"Just this, Joel. Just you."

taglist: @cool-iguana

[itsalwaysteatimeinwonderland]

Finding Peace Pt.7: Hope (Spike x y/n)

Requested: No. Part 7 of the Multi Fic.

Summary: Spike knew that a better life was possible, but only through sacrifice.

TW: none

Word count: 2.3k

Previous | Next

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He felt horrible. Destroyed. Lesser than what he wanted to be. He continued to hurt himself by making bad choices. Choices that he knew were detrimental to him. Never good enough for others, he was doomed to not be good enough for himself.

Spike walked the cemetery looking for trouble. A vampire or demon to entertain him, that’s all he needed. Soon he would find no one to entertain his self-destruction.

"Bloody slayer, doin' her job.” He moped at the loss of companionship.

He desperately wanted to visit y/n but he knew he had no business there. She wanted to rest and he wanted to not be reminded of his worthlessness. If only he was enough or more, he could prove to her that he deserved to be by her side. To be hers. However, he still craves violence and destruction. He reminds himself that if the chip wasn't in place that he would choose to kill for fun. And she knew that, which made him lesser than what she deserved.

He hoped Buffy was hurt or low so that she could take her frustration out on him. Make him feel the pain. The only thing that he deserved.

He continues to wander and ends up in town looking for something to do. What can a chipped vampire do in a hellmouth? He hates it when he finds himself walking down y/n's street. He was attracted to her like a moth to a flame. He gave in and gave up. If Buffy brought him pain, y/n brought him peace. Even when he didn't deserve it, he craved it.

As he walks up to y/n's house his attention is caught by the overwhelming stench of werewolf. Again, she was seeing that damned werewolf. What did she see in him? Why did she choose him, when Spike was right there, ready, and willing? He can hear the rustle of bedsheets from the open window. Lustful sighs and laughter. All things that he will never have.

He waited outside on the porch. Heated. Angry. Hurt. He was going to catch this werewolf and... what? Hurt him? Threaten him? In every scenario y/n would scold him. But he didn't give a damn. He was blinded by passion and revenge.

Hours passed but he waited patiently until the front door opened. It was Matteo. Spike's blood boiled but he stood, frozen, speechless. He simply gave Matteo a head nod as Matteo walked away from the house. Spike caught the door before it closed. He refused to knock to let y/n know he was there. He wanted to catch her red handed, satiated and vulnerable. All the feelings that he wanted to make her feel.

He walked into your bedroom and sat on the bed. The scene of the crime. You were showering so he waited. When you came out in a towel you gasped.

"Spike!"

"Somethin' wrong, love?" He played it cool.

He could sense her nervousness. He breathed in her panic.

"What are you doing here? I didn't hear you knock." You scrambled to get clothes.

"That's cause I didn' knock."

You stand there in a towel, clothes in hand. You decide it’s best to go back to the bathroom to change. Spike is aware of your dilemma.

"Don't let me stop you." He grins.

"Just turn around." You sigh giving up.

He does as you ask. He feels giddy knowing that your naked body was mere feet away from him. How he longed to look. But he was a gentleman and respected your wishes.

"Done" he turns back around.

"Havin' fun, are we?"

You stammer looking for the right answer. "A girl has needs."

He stood up and moved faster than you expected. He put his hand on your hip and pulled you to him. Bodies flushed together. You could feel every inch of him. His other hand trailed your face with the back of his hand.

"If your needs were bein’ neglected, why didn' you come to me?" He was feeling bold, brash.

You forget to breathe. Your head is spinning. You remind yourself to take it slow. To think before reacting, but your body betrays you and your thoughts go haywire.

You wrap your arms around his neck, settling into his hold. Feeling the comfort of his body.

"You know why..." was all you said. It was enough for Spike to falter, to almost loosen his grip. He steadies himself and holds you tighter, hoping you feel his resolve.

"It could be different." He tries.

"We're too far apart." You hold your ground.

"Let's close the gap, then." He insists.

You both stay as you are, staring into each other’s eyes. Fighting a lost battle. Too much is at stake and there's not enough space for mistakes.

His eyes beg you to reconsider, but your resolve never waivers. He has so much to say but not enough words. How to ask for you to choose him when he couldn't even choose himself?

"What would it take?" He was determined.

You faltered. What would it take? You hold your silence, mulling the question over. Spike grew impatient, afraid.

Spike sighs, defeated. He lets go of your body, putting distance between you two.

You stand there in ruins. You could have it all but at what cost. You were not meant to be loved. And he wasn't mean to be good. If these two situations were to dissipate, the difference it would make. You wondered if this change would bring you peace and break the curse. You didn't dare entertain the idea.

You both stood silent, waiting for the other to speak first. The seconds felt like hours.

"Want to dance?" You cave.

He looks up at you. He wondered if that was all you were capable of giving him. He wonders if that was all he could have. He assents.

You find a slow song playlist. Something smooth and personal.

"No waltz tonight, pet?" He smiles softly.

You shake your head. You wanted him to hold you.

You lay your head on his chest, while he wraps his arms around you. The proximity was killing him. He has you so close and yet you were so far away from his grasp.

The music plays softly as your bodies sway. Spike makes sure to memorize every second of your time together. He may not have you forever but he has you right now, and that is pure bliss.

A knock is heard on the bedroom door. You both are startled but don't break contact.

Matteo stood at the doorway, annoyed. At the sight of him you let go of Spike and straighten yourself. Spike smiles smugly at him.

"Matteo... what's wrong?"

"I left my phone." He points to it on your nightstand.

You stand there as he gets his phone, walking past Spike who refused to move. You swear you hear Matteo growl lowly, but you brush it off.

"Sorry to interrupt." He squares up to Spike and walks out of the room.

You palm your face out of embarrassment.

"What's wrong with your boyfriend?" Spike asks, still smug.

"He's not my boyfriend."

"Sorry, your lover." Spike spoke the last word through gritted teeth.

"Not that either." You busy yourself by making the bed.

"What would you call him, then?" He laid down on the bed impeding you from completing your task.

You sigh in frustration, "what do you call Buffy?" You bite back.

"By her name." He smiles his shit eating grin.

You look at him. You remind yourself to breathe. This man was going to be the end of you on so many levels. You walk out of the room into the kitchen. He follows you to the kitchen.

"Worked ourselves an appetite, did we?" Spike was still grinning, sitting on your counter.

You turn to him thinking of ways to shut him up, to catch him off guard. The only thought in your head was how badly you wanted to taste his words, to kiss him senseless. That, in itself, would bring more trouble and confusion than just sending him away. You're passion quickly turns bitter as you remember his choices.

"Don't you have a slayer to take care of?" You insinuate.

"That's why I’m here." Spike is feeling flirty and needy. Tonight was not a night for Buffy. Tonight he had to prove that he was the only one in y/n's life. Tonight, Matteo had your body but Spike had your heart.

You sigh. "I can't keep doing this with you." You turn to him, defeated.

He's caught off guard by your confession. He stutters and fails to find something to say. What did you mean by that? Was this you pushing him away? Anger bubbles in his stomach.

"But you can with that werewolf?" Spike said venomously.

"I already told you, he's a distraction. Just like the others, he has an expiration date."

"Others?!" Spike raises his voice.

"What do you want from me? I have needs. I can't just settle down. Not while I’m cursed."

"Am I not good enough? Am I too beneath you?" Spike was closer to you, closing the gap.  

"What? No. It's just... you're different." You waiver.

"Different. You mean evil."

You raise your chin in defiance. Who was he to be questioning your choices.

"You're being quite bold for someone who is openly fucking someone else."

He's incredulous.

"You want something with me but not enough to let Buffy go. You don't want me. You want what you can't have." You spit out, angry and hurt.

"Is that what you think? That I’m only here because you're unreachable?"

"Why else would you not commit? Why else would you play with me, make me feel?"

He scoffs. In some level she was right. He couldn't let go of Buffy. He needed the punishment, the constant reminder he was only dirt. But he craved y/n because she brought him hope. He needed to feel the light even when he hadn’t earned it. But he wasn't ready to admit all of this to himself. He wanted to be selfish. To move through two worlds, to be balanced. To feel.

"I've heard enough." He states.

"So, what now?" You were determined, you needed closure.

"Keep your werewolf. Live in your fantasy. You want to find peace so bad but you're too busy escaping what you have." He told the truth, unafraid of the repercussions.

Before you could provide a rebuttal he stepped away and went for the door.

"You want to feel something so bad but you're too busy punishing yourself." You yelled after him, wanting the last word.

You hear the door slam. He's gone. You feel tears roll down your face. A thousand years and you had never cried for man. You stand there feeling sorry for yourself. Hating how things ended.

Spike storms down to his crypt. Angry and hurt. He made the first move, and he was shot down. What else did he think was going to happen? He wanted to be bold and flirty in the hopes you would reciprocate but it blew up in his face, just like he deserved. Pain through Buffy and pain through y/n, just desserts. He knew better but he needed something, anything to hold onto hope. This just proved that he wasn't good enough. He didn't deserve the light, the hope, the love. At least, not as he is now. Soulless and evil. He is reminded that the chip was the only thing keeping him in your world. He could never be the key to your curse but he wanted to be your respite, your companion. He dreamed of that much. He was but half a man and half a vampire. He craved to be whole but that would mean a sacrifice.

He enters his crypt in a haste. He quickly picks up after himself, determined to leave and find what he’s looking for. Buffy busts through the door. Focused and wanting. She throws herself on Spike. Rough kisses and wandering hands. Spike is unresponsive, holding his ground. He feared the repercussions of his choice, but if he wanted more for himself he would have to sacrifice immediate gratification.

"What?" Buffy spit out disdainfully.  

"Not tonight, love." He pries himself from her grasp.

He fears a fight will break out. He is ready to endure her rage.

Enraged, she pushes him away. “What? Too caught up on y/n?

He’s taken aback. He refuses to answer. Buffy gets closer, menacingly.

“You keep dreaming of her as if you deserved her. You’re nothing to her, like you’re nothing to me.”

Spike stands his ground, tears burning in his eyes.

Buffy gives up and walks away. "Don't expect me to come back."

Buffy exits the crypt leaving Spike alone with his thoughts. He is glad that there was no physical altercation but can’t help but feel beat down and bruised.

"Fuck..." he mumbled under his breath.

Alone by force and alone by choice. He felt like he couldn’t catch a break. So many thoughts and none conducive to an answer or solution. Spike stood frozen, afraid. He knew what would get him to the person of his desire. However, was he strong enough to conquer his own demons? Was he strong enough to become who he wanted to be? He pondered this as he wrote a quick note to y/n. He needed answers. He needed to re-inhabit his body. No more dancing on the edge of pain and punishment. No more lust and violence. If he wanted an answer from you, the answer he craved, he had to give up the chains that kept him drowning in an ocean of despair.

He got on his motorcycle and drove to your house. He dropped off the note in your mailbox and drove off.

He hoped that you would read the note. He hoped you would wait for him. He hoped.

[eridanidreams]

Snippet Sunday

tagging: @bearlytolerant, @silurisanguine, @aro-pancake, @fangbangerghoul, @atonalginger, @aislingdmdt, @fshenkoescape, @ninjaofnaps, @lisa-and-shadow, @a-cosmic-elf, @thatsgoodsquishy0, @hockeydemon42, @fomagranfalloon, @violenceandviolets, @therealgchu, @staticpallour, @artemis-crimson, @genesisarclite and @constellation2330

More from the upcoming chapter of stars through my fingers...

They wandered the gaming area for a while—it wasn't just the Mile people bet on here. No-holds-barred fistfights in zero-G, whether a smuggler would get through security, how long a LIST colony would last against the Fleet (Cait's eyes went pink at that one, and it took a good several minutes for her to calm down). All the while keeping up a smile, trolling for Mei Devine.

Eventually—as they'd known she would—she took the bait.

Cait's hand tightened on his arm a half-second before a voice spoke up behind them. "Sam Coe."

Sam pulled Cait close against him, arm around her waist, as they turned. "Ms. Devine," he replied amiably.

Mei Devine gave him a flirtatious little smile. "I'm told you spent a great deal of time here before I took it over." She gestured to the room about them. "Do you think it's an improvement?"

He hid his disgust under a sunny smile of his own. "I must confess to havin' a bit of nostalgia for the old days, but," he let his eyes wander across the people getting rich on other people's blood, "this is probably better for business. Fewer gunfights, for certain," he added as one of the Ecliptic guards crossed into his view.

"Oh, it is!" Devine tossed her hair back. "We get all kinds of business in and out. In fact," she gave him a speculative look, "I have to wonder if you're looking to get back in the game. A man of your talents could find it very… lucrative."

"Could be that's true," he replied. "Would have to be worth my while, though."

Devine laughed. "Well, then I wouldn't waste any time on young Jade over there." She gave Sam a sly look. "Her sister's a Freestar Ranger. But of course, you know that."

He smirked. "Well, this ain't Freestar space, is it? We got reasons not to spend time at the old homestead." He glanced at Cait, giving her a squeeze. "Ain't that right, darlin'?"

Cait took the cue admirably. "Except for Neon," she said softly, giving him a wide-eyed look. "Neon can be fun."

"Ain't no place like it," he agreed. In so many ways. "Just chock full of… opportunities."

Devine's eyes narrowed, giving her face a particularly vulpine look. "Well, if it's opportunities you're after, I might be able to arrange something. A meeting, say? With someone whose operation is… significant."

Cait's body was taut with nerves; Sam ran his hand up and down her side in a soothing gesture that an outside watcher would take for salacious. Playing the part—the Coe brat, all grown up and still getting into trouble. "I might be interested," he said. "Favor for a favor, I take it?" He offered Devine an engaging smile. "You're far too savvy a businesswoman to offer something that valuable for free."

"You do know the way to a woman's heart," Devine purred. "But it's simple enough: it's been too long since we had proper entertainment. If you could provide that… the famous Sam Coe, a runner on the Red Mile. Why, you might be a bigger draw than Donovan Rhys!" She put her finger to her lips coquettishly. "Especially since he keeps coming back alive. I'm afraid he's just gotten too… reliable."

Sam chuckled. "Well, now. That's an interesting offer. In my younger days I probably wouldn't have thought twice about it, but…" He trailed off, the very picture of a man caught by a dilemma.

"I can assure you, the prize is worth the price," Devine said. "Run the Mile for me, and I'll give you Marco Graziani."

[anna-neko]

the problem with havin a couple very niche hyperfixations.... is you never know when the overlap suddenly smashes you upside the head with an epiphany

Supergiant Games BASTION. Game adore to bits, own on multiple platforms (we triple-dippin up in here) will still take out and play thru fully when need a soothing vidya experience

.....and only right now, because been looping TAZ music ... did it just hit me (like a brick upside the head) there is a piece of Bastion music in this!

like no, not actual copy/pasted sample of a Bastion track, but a piece of the same ..uhh... raw material? loop? whatever they're called

in Arms Outstretched from The Suffering Game is in the ...uhhh.... a piece of Mancer's Dilemma track

like... i can literally SEE in my head the lil Wild Unknown scene with The Kid rolling around in his intoxicated fever dream as those bits play

I dun know shit 'bout music aside frm a vague idea that the lil swirly symbol is called a clef

so ...uhhh... imagine seeing a very specific piece of fabric with a very distinct design and suddenly realizing it is used as a patch or a frill on another piece of clothing. Something thats been there for ages but you never quite realized it before until it was in the light just so

[sheyshocked]

What It Means to Be an Aussie

Summary: Mick Mundy, age eleven, is upset because kids at school laughed at him, telling him he’s no Aussie. When he comes to his mom for comfort, she has to face a dilemma: tell him he’s adopted or keep it a secret to protect him.

Fandom: Team Fortress 2

Ship: None (familial Sniper & Sniper’s Parents)

Warnings: None

Tags: Hurt/Comfort, Angst, Bullying, Adoption, Child Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Canon Compliant, Sad Sniper (Team Fortress 2), Australian Slang, Parent-Child Relationship

Wordcount: 737

A/N: This was a spur-of-a-moment fic written in two days, so be gentle, please. Incorporating Australian slang into it was a challenge, but at least I learned something new (ankle biter will never not make me smile), so I can use it later in my main fic Baby It’s All Just Chemistry. Writing Sniper and his family is hard, but I loved every second of it.

You can also read it on ao3!

It was late evening and Mrs. Mundy just finished knitting the last row of Mick’s new sweater. She was about to go to bed. Her husband was away on a hunting trip with his friends, so it was only her and their son in the house. Then she heard it. That small, hesitant rustle lingering by the door, as if whoever caused it was contemplating whether he should enter the room or not. She lit the lamp by her bedside and sat up, squinting at the lanky shadow cowering at the threshold.

Mick. Her little koala bear. Well, not so little anymore. He was barely eleven years old and already so tall. Soon, he would overgrow even his own father. But he never filled out the way his classmates did. “You’re just a late-bloomer,” they kept telling him when he came back from school with tears swelling in his eyes. “Give it time. Your father hasn’t grown a proper mustache until he was nearly fourteen.”

But they knew they were lying through their teeth.

“Micky?” she rubbed her eyes. What time was it? “What’s goin’ on? Can’t sleep?”

He shook his head, the poor thing. Then he slowly ever so slowly entered the room and without uttering a single word slipped underneath the cowers, diving beside her like he used to do when he was still a small nipper. She sighed and wrapped her arms around him like a warm blanket. Jonathan never liked it when the boy came to them at night asking if he could sleep in their bed with them. “He’s too old for that now,” he always argued. “He should just man up and go back to sleep like a normal adult bloke.”

But Mrs. Mundy shushed him every time and lifted the sheets for Mick to crawl under. Not many parents could say that their tackers still came to them at this age when they were hurting. It was beautiful, in its own way.

If only he hurt a little less often.

“They were laughin’ at me again, mom,” he finally spoke up in a shaky voice as if he was about to cry. “Said I’m not Aussie enough if I never want to fist-fight with them.”

Ah. This again. Kids really can be cruel. Mick was special, all of them could see that, as it was getting more obvious with age, and they feared him the way they feared everything they couldn’t beat up into submission.

“What’s wrong with me, mom? Why am I not like the others?”

Now this truly shattered her heart into tiny pieces. Maybe they should finally tell him the truth. But what then? Would he wonder where he was from? Or ask about his real parents and why they didn’t love him enough to keep him? And what would the other kids do if they found out he wasn’t from the outback like they were?

No, it had to remain a secret. Why should any of this matter anyway? He was their son. Maybe not by blood, but they loved him the same. And nothing would ever change that.

She hugged him a bit tighter, letting him snuggle up closer to her. “Oh no, ‘roo. There is nothin’ wrong with you. It’s them who should learn what it truly means to be an Aussie. Because it’s not about havin’ muscle upon muscle and bushy mustaches. It’s about what you have in your heart. And you are good just the way you are.” She heard a small, pitiful sob being pressed into her clavicle. Poor thing. She cooed at him until he calmed down a little, then went to stroke his hair. “You know what? Maybe next time dad will take you on a trip with him. Would you like that? He could even teach you how to shoot a rifle if you promise you’ll be careful.”

Mick wiped away the tear that got stuck on his long eyelashes. “R-really? You mean it?”

“Of course I do. If you’re gonna be good at it the way you are at throwin’ rocks, you will soon become the best hunter around.”

Finally, he smiled. “Thanks, mom. Love ya.”

“I love you too, Micky. You’ll never know how much.”

One day, Mick will grow up into something great and leave all those mean no-hopers behind. But for now... she held him as they both drifted off into a peaceful sleep.

Translations

Nipper – a child Bloke – a man Tackers - children No-hoper – somebody who’ll never perform well

[im-sprouting]

I’m not eating pork at the moment. I decided to do a month to month approach of eliminating animal products from my diet. Here’s my plan but I might fast track it anyways:

January- venison, lamb, and individual milk products (coffee creamer mostly, ice cream, sour cream, and butter), any alcohol that isn’t very eco friendly

February- beef (might do it sooner), turkey, duck

March- chicken, cheese (might do it sooner)

April- anything that contains dairy (ex. Betty Crocker cookies or whatever)

March- eggs

This is a rough plan and kinda vague so I’m forgetting any specific products pls let me know.

The plan is over the course of months because it is a big life adjustment for me. If you’re Latino and come from a traditional carne asada havin family you’ll understand my dilemma. Especially since I see extended family 1-2 a month (over 12 people)

[labelleperfumery]

Kourtney Kardashian Shares Postpartum Outfit Look, 'Not Much In The Closet Fits'

Kourtney Kardashian says she’s at that phase after havin’ a kid where nothing seems to fit … so she’s showing off her holiday postpartum outfit, and get gettin’ tons of praise for it. KK opened up about her dilemma Tuesday, the day after… from TMZ.com https://www.tmz.com/2023/12/26/kourtney-kardashian-postpartum-outfit-baby-rocky-travis-barker/

[fact-anonymous]

hey i hope your having a nice day - a markiplier factive

Hey! Thank you so much. This is such a lovely message to come back to. :D

I've been busy, all our systems have been because of bodily responsibilities. Although, I just heard that my counterpart's gonna have a musical based on their life. That's surreal! I kinda wish I could see it, but I know it may knock our mental health, too. Ah, the eternal dilemma.

Anyways, I hope you're havin a real swingin' day too! If you're unable to have a nice day, I hope you have a day - even when feeling negative and/or unproductive, the fact that you've gone through your day is amazing. Take care!

-Mod Silhouette

[nightlyponder]

theres a supervisor at job 1 that i bonded wit pretty quickly when i started and she's known the musician since he worked there. i spent 2 hours talkin her bout some of my job 2 problems and eventually i brought up the musician. i ended up confessing to her bout my queer platonic dilemma. she keeps secrets well so im not worried bout tellin her. i needed to tell someone alladat tho that knew the both of us cuz i kept runnin in circles bout it on top of his dating app shit and general lack of self confidence. cuz im tired of repeatin myself and not knowin exactly what he wants to hear from me when he tells me his problems

like recently it got to a point where i could tell he was annoyed and he got a little snappy and im like dude next time i'll ask if youre jus ventin or want advice and he said he didnt know what he wanted. idk what to do wit that. its like then why are we havin this conversation lmao

[malluck]

good evening i have the time to tell u what i think about this photo

i think it’s severely gay 

[hhoneysims]

thinking of having my queue post every 30 mins instead of every hour because where im at right now isn’t going to be posted for another 8 days at this rate 😵‍💫 but i also don’t want 2 spam… and i feel like im alrdy pretty spammy

[von-eldritch]

//hmms in *I have pin-up Hellsa in the list of things I’m meaning to draw*

[the-winter-witcher]

I dunno whether to just dye my hair black again or leave it

[dykedarling]

me: ok I’ll listen to all of hozier’s albums and put the good songs in my playlist

me, later: oh no...they’re all good