#i just wanted to write them at camp

[piratefishmama]

14!

Writing Prompts | No longer accepting new prompts

“Excuse me?” Steve, who’d been quietly minding his own business in the corner with his frankly pathetic little lunch, was absolutely certain he’d misheard the boy.

“I said, I know you’re the president of the Anti-Social Club, but why don’t you join me?” Nope, definitely didn’t mishear him.

“I’m not the president of the antisocial club, what the hell dude?”

“Could’a fooled me, man! All on your lonesome over here… I know camp ain’t exactly the best place in the world if all your friends are off on… I dunno, ski trips in the Alps or some shit while you’re stuck here, but… you don’t have to be on your own, y’know?” Steve regarded the other boy with narrowed eyes.

He knew this boy.

Year above him at Hawkins Middle, hadn’t been there for very long, maybe a year or so, the buzzcut he’d had that first year was starting to grow out into little dark curls. Still looked like he could do with a proper meal though. Munford? No. Monsoon? Pfft what? That’d be too cool a name, Minsun? Nooo… Munson!! “I don’t need your pity, Munson, m’fine…” Munson raised his brows in surprise, not at the idea that he was fine, probably that he knew his last name. “So what if my friends aren’t here, I’m still fine…” His parents were spending the first few weeks of the school summer holidays in California, back-to-back business meetings for some big merger his fathers firm was going through, his mother working alongside his father as one of the key lawyers on the project. “M’not anti-social”

No holiday for Steve, at least not yet. He’d have a few weeks of summer camp at some random little dump in the middle of the woods, and then they’d be back to pick him up for a real holiday, he was sure they’d be back. He only had to suffer another couple of weeks on his own. No big deal.

“Uh-huh… see, I’d believe you, I really would, cause normally you’re surrounded by your little hoard of groupies, but… you’ve been here for like, a week now? And not one friend made! Even Robin tried to talk to you, you blew her off! That was super rude, man, she’s great.” Bit young, bit hyperactive, but she kicked ass on the trumpet.

“…Who’s Robin?”

“Sweet cheesus on toast, okay. Uh… see that girl over there, long brown-ish hair? Band-aid on her knee? That’s Robin. She tried to ask you what your favourite bug was the other day, and you just ignored her.”

He honestly hadn’t heard her, his hearing had never been the best but… what kind of question was that? “Who has a favourite bug?”

“Robin does, it’s a ladybeetle.” Robin had once followed up with the seemingly automatic follow-on comment ‘cause ladies are great’ before realising she’d said too much and froze. She’d only relaxed when nobody had questioned it. Only relaxed when Eddie had swiftly moved the conversation on to what everyone’s favourite leaf shape was.

His was a maple leaf. Cause how did leaves just do shapes like that? Most were rounded with only one main ‘point’, and then you have a big ol maple leaf just HI THERE I LOOK LIKE I BELONG ON A DRUID’S STAFF AND NOWHERE ELSE. Like it could be the base of a coat of arms for a great forest dwelling elven family, or the shape of a forest dragons footprint.

That inevitably went on to the kids designing cool forest dragons and everything was right with the world.

“I think you mean ladybug.”

“Do I?” Munson smiled at him, as if he knew something Steve didn’t, it irritated him a little, how easily this kid seemed to talk down to him. Nobody talked down to him besides the adults, and they were adults so… he had to take that.

“Shut up, go away. I don’t care about dumb bugs” The smile dropped, replaced with something that else that Steve didn’t think he liked, a flash of sadness, no… no, that expression didn’t look right on Munson’s face and Steve didn’t know why.

The dimpled smile suited him more.

“Okay well… if you do feel like abdicating your position of president of the antisocial club, then… y’know… we’re all over there, plotting out our attack on the end of camp scavenger hunt. You’d be welcome to join us.” Scavenger hunt? Steve figured his face probably gave away some kind of interest, because Munson lingered just a little longer, instead of retreating back to his little gaggle of nerds “You… you’ve never been here before, so uhm… I suppose you probably wouldn’t know, every year, at the end of summer camp, the counsellors put on this massive scavenger hunt, it spans the whole camp grounds and a little ways into the forest too, but the prize is different every year, and you get a cool trophy if your team wins… you could be on our team, if you wanted?”

“…I won’t be here for long enough, parents are picking me up before the end of camp.” Why did that sound fun though? Why did his voice sound disappointed? He wanted out of that stupid camp! Everything was dirty, and smelly, and he didn’t know anyone, it was boring but the one cool thing he’d heard about, he wouldn’t even be there to join.

“Oh… well… you could still help us plan right? We can do a run of the areas, find any potential hiding spots, it could be fun! Way more fun than hiding out here picking at grass!”

He could. He could have, could have gotten up from his spot and joined the little gaggle of nerds for their nerd games, he’d have been the weird one in a group for once, but… they probably wouldn’t have held it against him, he could have played with them but… what was the point?

“No, I’m okay. I’ll pass.” Munson hesitated again, chewing his bottom lip in thought, before nodding and taking a step backwards.

“Okay, well… if you change your mind, man… being president of one is kinda like a president of none, an you could be my co-president in Team ‘Scoob’ which… y’know… it’s a huge honour! But if you’re sure…” Scoob? Probably Scooby Doo, Steve’s brain supplied.

“…Co-president?”

“Yepperoo, you’re welcome to coooomeee~ You can be the Fred to my Daphne!” Steve raised a brow in curiosity “y’know, cause… I’m growing my hair out and you’re—y’know” Eddie motioned to all of him, he didn’t know.

But it made him feel a little warm to think about it.

He really could go with him… Munson wasn’t just giving up on him, wasn’t just letting him be by himself, was giving him an opportunity to make friends and well… even if he wasn’t going to be there until the end… he could do with some friends to make the time pass quicker. “…Ugh, fine. But if it’s boring then I’m ditching you! Help me up.”

“Haha! Fine, fine, Mr President! Nothing but fun times to be had!! C’mon I’ll introduce you to everyone! My names Eddie by the way, not Munson.” Eddies hand was warm as it wrapped around his, his pull gentle but enough to get Steve onto his feet.

“Steve… not president.”

‘Eddie’ snorted a laugh, following with “I know Stevie” Stevie… he liked Stevie “you’re like, famous in school” as he walked him back to the group. Not having let go of his hand.

So at least when his parents sent word two weeks later that actually, they’d be staying in California due to some mix-up with the merger that was taking far longer than anticipated, at least when he’d been told he’d be staying for the entirety of camp, he had… friends.

He had people.

He had Robin, who rambled about bugs, and stars and—and anything really, the girl honestly couldn’t stop herself from rambling sometimes, it was cute, even if a little annoying sometimes.

He had Eddie who hugged him when he’d caught him silently shedding tears in the camp cabin because he’d known they wouldn’t be there he just hadn’t wanted to admit it to himself, then promptly revealed a ferret called Samwise that he’d been hiding god only knows where for a whole three weeks.

Eddie, who didn’t give up on befriending him, who held his hand more often than not, who partnered with him on little arts and crafts group projects and silly team exercises, who made him feel all weird inside in a way Steve didn’t understand but he liked enough to feel excitement over what it could be. He'd always have the little kiss on the cheek Eddie had nervously given him behind their cabin the night before their last day after mumbling a soft little prayer to some unknown god called 'Ozzy' that he was reading the signs right. He was.

Steve would always have that summer and everything that came with it.

And, of course, he'd always have shared custody of their little winners trophy, because in what universe could anyone beat Team Scoob in a scavenger hunt?

[itsdefinitely]

i wanna know more about the jerries/jeris

do you want to know the most horrific thing about them?

the lords did nothing to make them the way they are.

yes, the jerry jr was turned into the axeman because of the witchwood, which does what it does because of the lords, but everything leading up to that is just human nature. i see the "girl jeri is nibbly" or "they were influenced by a lord to do the thngs they do" and i need people to understand that that's just. not true. they're just like that. they were taught to be like that by their parents and, more accurately, their church. it's horrifyingly accurate how religion has shaped them into non-functional human beings, who would rather potentially lose their child to the many, many dangers of the literal woods than admit that they had sex outside of marriage.

it's only because it's hatchetfield that jerry jr grew the way he did. there was no lord's intervention in their decision to keep the baby, or to drop out of school to care for him, or to keep him seperated from any other people, or to revolve their lives around the idea that they'd committed a sin and needed to pay by pushing celibacy rather than. i don't know. properly raising their child. it was the way they were taught. the toxic pushing of overexaggerated christian ideals is what molded them. can you imagine being in their place? being a scared teenager and knowing that if you told any of the people you care about most your secret that they would shun you and disown you?

the only people they felt any kind of safe around were each other; of course they're going to be codependent. and even then, they're disgusted by each other for leading them to sin. they're stuck together unwillingly, because without the other, they're alone.

[stormofdefiance]

Aventurine should have been wearing a feather boa instead of a fur collar and no one can change my mind

[13eyond13]

actually stunned by how gay The Beatles has been all this time and I just never knew

[maddieandangel]

Had a weird Hollow Knight-related dream a couple days ago, so I decided to draw a major scene I remembered from it dgsgshf

More context will be in the tags, for those interested!

[suffarustuffaru]

so i ranked some rezero ships based on how their breakup would go

[heyclickadee]

A quick (it was going to be quick, but this turned out to be a lie) “Tech Lives” thought:

This is something I already covered in this post, but the placement of and the way Tech’s sacrifice works in the structure of “The Summit” and “Plan 99” is really weird if it’s intended as a genuine character death. Basically, tl;dr for the original post: it functions as a plot point/catalyst to get the rest of the episode moving, not as a send off/death for a major character, which is a large part of why it doesn’t read as a character death at all to more casual viewers (and why I kind of suspect the writers/showrunners didn’t intend it to be read that way).

I just finished summarizing “Truth and Consequences” and “The Crossing,” to my (still long-suffering) little brother, and they way those two episodes work together has kind of hammered home the point about Tech’s sacrifice not functioning in episode as a character death even more for me. Echo leaves—just leaves! He doesn’t even die, and he says it’s not forever and that he’s coming back—at the end of “Truth and Consequences,” and then that’s followed up with an entire episode about the other characters dealing with his absence. We get a character departure and then a whole episode about the aftermath of that loss. And that’s important, not just for the characters, but also for the audience, especially if you keep in mind that as dark as The Bad Batch gets, the target audience is kids around Omega’s age—ten to thirteen(1).

And, if we look at Rebels(2), which is the closest of the animated shows to The Bad Batch in terms of the kind of story it’s telling, it’s pretty consistent with the way that show handled the send off of a character the protagonist saw as a parent/older sibling. Kanan dies at the end of “Jedi Knight,” and then the follow up episode—“Dume”—is just about everyone else coming to terms with their grief.

Tech’s “death,” though? Six-minutes, forty-odd seconds into a twenty-something minute episode PACKED with other big plot points, leaving the other characters in shock and giving all of them—especially Omega—about ten seconds to sit with that shock before things keep happening, and then another thirty or so seconds later on to acknowledge their grief and shock again before the plot comes at them all like a freight train through the crystal palace. They’re not allowed to process it, and because they’re not, neither are we.

Which is all the more striking because there was absolutely a way to give Tech a definitive death and give the characters (and us) time to deal with it. Make “The Summit” three minutes longer. Maybe even two. Cut out the rigamarole with Tech running back to the cable car, the cable car getting shot, and Tech dangling at the end of the line. Have him call “Plan 99” choose to stay behind at the control panel because that’s the only way to get the cable car moving again. Have him send a signal to the car sends it hurtling away while the others are screaming at him to stop and get back on board and Echo is trying to get it to stop but can’t, because Tech’s overridden the signal. Show Tech getting shot down by one of the stormtroopers or a v-wing if you have to as he’s holding his place at the panel. You can keep Omega yelling at everyone to go back, keep Wrecker telling Tech not to do it, keep Tech’s last line as is. End “The Summit” with the cable car crash and then begin the next episode with the sequence of the rest of the batch running for the Marauder as Omega drifts in an out of consciousness.

Doing this, killing Tech off in a slightly different way at the end of “The Summit” rather than a quarter of the way through “Plan 99,” would have kept Tech sacrificing himself, but would have also (potentially) shown us a body and given the other characters (and the audience) time to process his death in the next episode before the other plot points started happening. It would have read as a definitive character death. Instead, the writers/showrunners decided to have Tech “die” in an incredibly non-definitive way in a situation that directly parallels what happened in “Faster” and allows for the appearance of that ice-vulture/survivor imagery we already saw with Crosshair, and which leaves everyone with no body AND absolutely no time to process it as a death.

So, anyway, Tech’s extremely alive.

1. I know people get kind of defensive when people say that The Bad Batch is a kids’ show, but I think that’s because we tend to use “kids’ show” as a pejorative. I’m not. When I say that The Bad Batch is for kids first and foremost, I don’t mean that it’s simple or bad or not worthwhile—I mean it as a point of high praise. It’s a kids show that goes some heavy places and refuses to speak down to kids, which is great. Kids ought to have good tv, too, and it ought to come in a variety of flavors.

2: I know we tend to like to compare The Bad Batch to The Clone Wars, but Rebels really is the closest parallel. Rebels was another linear story with a limited focus on one group of characters and definite start and end points. The Clone Wars was a sweeping anthology series both produced and aired in a non-chronological order, and which, as far as I can tell, was basically designed to go on ad infinitum until it either got cancelled (which is what happened) or they ran out of ideas, at which point they would do the Revenge of the Sith overlap stuff (what they did once they were allowed to bring it back and finish it off).

[maxgicalgirl]

Listen okay I just know in my heart Cecil Palmer and Sydney Sargent would be BEST friends

[blackjackkent]

Hm - ok, out of curiosity, I triggered a second long rest to see if something about the shapeshifters would proc once Wyll's business with Mizora was out of the way, and... well...

"Kainyank! Your deception ends now! I shall cleave the truth from you like flesh from a dhour!"

Oh boy.

"Help me!" the girl squeals in terror, looking up at Hector as he approaches. "She's gone mad!"

OK so. A couple things.

First of all - I speculated in my last post, off the cuff, that Yenna and/or her cat was in fact the shapeshifter interloper. It's entirely possible (even likely, I dare say) that Lae'zel is being rash here, but if she is not, I reserve the right to call myself a freaking genius at the end of this scene.

Second, it's tragically out of character for Hector to say, but this fourth dialogue option is absolutely what's going on in his head:

However - this is Hector, so his primary priority is immediately trying to defuse the situation, ideally before Lae'zel puts a blade in a potentially innocent child's neck.

"What in the hells is going on here?"

"This is not the whelp who's been following us," Lae'zel snaps. "I saw her. She slipped into camp in the form of a woman and shifted into this... abomination. She tried to silence me and hide her deception!"

"I didn't do anything!" the girl cries out with very credible terror, struggling to release herself from Lae'zel's iron grip.

Fairly interesting, this - I literally just, this afternoon, finished writing a fic (coming soon!) about how Hector and Lae'zel have bonded a lot more recently (mostly about their similarly unhealthy coping mechanisms for dealing with all the Strong Emotions in their lives right now, but still). So Hector's instinct is very much to believe Lae'zel.

Certainly, if this is Lae'zel, he doesn't believe she would be lying to him about this. She's made no secret of finding Yenna annoying, but she would not lie about it like this. Not to him.

It might not be Yenna. But it might just as easily not be Lae'zel.

Gods, he hates this. He hates that after he has grown so much in learning to trust those he travels with, that trust is being torn from under him by something outside their control. He hates that Orin's very existence is enough to upset the order of things, that she need not even act in order to cause them to start to tear themselves apart from within.

Moonmaiden, grant me wisdom... please...

"Do you have any proof?" he asks carefully.

"Is my word not enough?" Lae'zel snarls.

With a quick, sharp motion, she pulls a dagger from her belt, lifts it to Yenna's neck.

"Say your farewells, ne'voocrim!"

Hector puts out a hand sharply before she can strike, his eyes fixed on hers. [PERSUASION] "There's something we're not seeing here!" he snaps out.

Look at me, Lae'zel - if you truly are the woman I have come to know, who has come to trust me... you will stay your blade until I can speak.

(A/N: 25 DC, almost impossible even with Voice of the Circle AND Favorable Beginnings, but crit success on an inspiration re-roll, holy shiiiiit.)

Lae'zel's face twists at the interruption; abruptly she shoves the girl aside and takes a step towards Hector. Her eyes narrow and her lips curl in a sudden mad smirk - and Hector feels a chill roll through his whole body.

"Perhaps if I remove your eyes," she sneers, "you'll see things as they are."

Hector takes a rapid step back, his hands lifting, ready to strike. This is not Lae'zel - that much is suddenly obvious, and his neck prickles with fear. How long? How long has she been here lurking among them? Where has Lae'zel been taken? What has Orin done to her?

As if in answer, the false githyanki's head twists in a spasmodic jerking movement that is, by now, all too familiar.

The sense of utter violation is surprising. He feels his whole body go tense, a muscle working in his jaw. To be surprised by Orin in the city is one thing, but to have her here in their camp, their place of safety and respite and refuge - to have her take the form of one of his closest allies, and threaten to murder an innocent child in front of him...

His expression remains utterly still, showing no sign of the turmoil in his mind, but his fists clench at his sides.

There's soft footsteps behind him. The others have started to wake at the commotion, to realize what is happening. He can hear the slide of metal on metal as blades are drawn, the sound of hoarse, nervous breath. But no one strikes; perhaps all of them are as overwhelmed as he feels at this invasion of their home.

That unsettling smile has not moved from Orin's lips throughout her transformation. "Look at it," she murmurs, her eyes tracing over Hector from head to foot with disdainful amusement. "Crawling and sniffing and rooting around in the filth. Is it my Netherstone you seek, little piggy?"

She reaches out a hand, draws her fingertips tauntingly along his jaw. Her skin is ice-cold, like the touch of a corpse. He doesn't move, resists the urge to flinch. "Hush... hush..." she croons, her eyes alight with madness. "Orin will take care of you. And your little pet."

At Hector's side he sees the flash of a blade. Karlach has moved next to him, and her sword is up, the point aimed directly at Orin's throat.*

Hector's voice is tight and hoarse, trying not to show the depth of his fear in this moment. "What have you done with Lae'zel?"

Orin draws back with a soft, maniacal giggle. "Nothing!" she says brightly. "No, not a thing! Still gasping and gagging on the foul airs of Bhaal's temple." She smiles slowly, full of gleeful malice. "I will not slice. Her kind die too easily."

She begins to stroll casually between their bedrolls, seemingly unconcerned by the weapons drawn in her direction, or the anger in her audience's eyes. "The Murder Lord demands a better offering. Something new... sticky sweet and delicious." She pauses, turns to meet Hector's gaze again, pokes a finger towards his chest.

"He wants *you.*"

"Fuck that," Karlach mutters at his side.

Hector shakes his head slightly. His skin is crawling at the nearness of the shapeshifter, at what she is describing, and his adrenaline is starting to pump with urgency - the need to find Lae'zel, to get away from this creature, to escape whatever the God of Murder has in mind for them all. But they need information before they can hope to retaliate...

"The Murder Lord wants me?" He is surprised to hear how steady his voice sounds all of a sudden. "Why?"

"Ketheric's killer..." she murmurs. There's a strange sort of eager hunger in her tone now at the mention of the violence Hector has wrought in the past. "Turned the corpse-lover to carrion when you took his stone. But he was a dull kill. No blood to spill, no guts to rip - a desiccated husk, all dust and hollow." Her breath catches with an eager whine, those pale blank eyes widening. "You must be sharpened before you set your edge against my skin."

Hector shudders. "Enough of these riddles," he snaps. "Speak plainly."

Orin tilts her head. "You'd prefer my whispers in the tyrant's tongue?" she says.

Another sudden twist, a flash of red - and Gortash stands before him instead.

"You've heard Gortash's whispers. I see how your skull swarms with his promises..." The words are Orin's, but now uttered in Gortash's low, sardonic growl. "He whinges and wails over the Crown of Karsus, wanting to command it without me... Oh, how I long to slit his poxy smile from ear to ear. But I can't touch him. He bound my blade when we first conspired."

"Gortash didn't want me at first. Didn't trust me. Got me to wag my tongue, swear an oath never to hang him from the hooks, drip-drain him into Father's open jaws... You must kill the tyrant, take the Netherstone from his corpse, and bring it to my temple. There we slice and shred each other. The survivor claims the stones. What's left of the other is Bhaal's."

It is incredibly unsettling to hear Orin's insane ramblings coming from Gortash's throat. Hector listens in silence, watches as the creature shifts again, back to Orin's pale skin and eyes.

"Agree, and I will bring my assassins to heel. They watch you always, longing to spray the crimson from your veins. Refuse me, and you'll learn what happens to those who defy Bhaal's doctrine. So will your friend."

Narrator: Orin demands a fight to the death. The prize for the victor - the Netherstones, and the chance to control the crown alone. Accept, and you must kill Gortash. Refuse, and your companion's life may be forfeit. As might your own - Orin's assassins will hunt you like prey for slaughter.

Hector's mind whirls, wheels turning rapidly as he tries to parse the situation and the best way out of it.

The worst thing about this situation is that agreeing to Orin's demands feels like the right answer.

He was already going to kill Gortash; that has been a given for quite some time. Even were he not one of the Chosen, Hector would help Karlach destroy him regardless; as it is, he cannot be allowed to live. And Orin is, by far, the scarier of the two remaining leaders of the Dead Three's plot. Allying with her long enough to keep her shapeshifting assassins off of him and his friends is more than a little appealing.

Then, of course, there is Lae'zel. He intends to rescue her regardless of the agreement here; she cannot be allowed to languish in a Bhaalist prison. Not after how important she has become to him, to the whole group. She is one of their family now. But to agree to Orin's demands for now would perhaps help to ensure her safety long enough for him to find her.

Normally at this point in his thought process, he would consider that he abhors the thought of lying, of placing his word of bond on a deal that he means to betray. But the extraordinary thing about what Orin is offering is that her endgame is only the final showdown between them that was coming anyway; he does not want control of the Netherstones, but he was never going to let her live. She expects his betrayal, it is even written into the deal - what she offers is only a brief cessation of hostilities long enough for it to come to blows between them in another place.

She is, in short, offering him a deal for what he was going to do anyway - kill Gortash, and then kill her. The only variable is Lae'zel's safety, which is better ensured by playing the game Orin's way, at least for now.

"So be it," he says harshly. "I will kill Gortash. Lae'zel lives. Then we fight for the final Netherstone."

Her eyes widen with insane joy. "The promise of slaughter! Of pain and humiliation and the sound of blood drip-dropping into the gutter. Do not underestimate his Steel Watch. Seek their cradle in the Lower City and skewer their skull meat. Make them rust and blood. Then you can gore the lordling again and again and again--"

She squirms with excitement, her voice rising in pitch to an eager squeal, those pale eyes fixed on Hector's face. "But listen. Listen close, Bone-killer... Step in my domain while the tyrant still sucks air, and I will carve your failure into your pretty plaything's skull. Bring me his stone and I will set the bait free. Only then can you and I make exquisite butchery. The victor will set the world to slaughter."

She twists the ring on her finger, disappearing into a burst of red light with her last words hanging in the chill night air. "This is Bhaal's offer. He will not make another."

-----

"Holy shit. Fuck. Soldier, what the fuck was that?" Karlach's sword falls to her side and her other hand grabs Hector's arm urgently. "We're not seriously going along with this?"

"Why not?" Hector says bitterly. "All she has asked us to do is kill Gortash and then come to fight her. I don't believe we ever had another plan anyway."

"And Lae'zel? You believe she'll just let her go?" Shadowheart asks, her eyebrows knitted with concern. Even now, she bears no particular love for their githyanki comrade - but she has come far enough at Hector's side that she doesn't want Lae'zel lost either. "She's a trickster - a creature of shadow beyond any that ever served Shar. Who is to say she will keep her promise?"

"I believe she'll keep her safe until I come to face her," Hector says wearily. "Because she knows we would not leave Lae'zel behind. Alive, she's bait. Dead, she's useless."

Jaheira smiles, without humor. "I believe you are correct," she agrees quietly. "So it seems we have only one path forward."

Hector nods. "And the first step is killing Gortash - ideally with as little delay as possible."

Karlach's lips curl in a savage smile and her hand tightens on Hector's arm. "Well - you won't hear any argument from me."

-----

* Artistic license, obviously. I just liked the mental image. XD

[dragons-and-yellow-roses]

Me: I should probably clean my room, unpack, find my laptop and finish the work tasks that were due yesterday

Also me: I think I'm going to hot glue flowers, vines, and ribbons to a basket instead :)

[diluc33rpm]

the romance/relationship system in bg3 is genuinely some of the worst designed shit i've ever seen in any game with that feature but at least the memes we get out of it are funny. once saw someone comment something along the lines of 'patch note: waving at gale will no longer cause him to buy a house for the two of you to retire in' and i've never recovered since

[titansarmy]

i’m going to take it a step further. nico’s healing journey not involving will solace and/or a romantic partner would be a much better story

[quaranmine]

i'm completely normal about things <- watched adventure archives and yearning again

[adamsvanrhijn]

john adams edit using imgonnagetyouback where he can't decide if he's gonna kiss oscar or bully him by faking a new boyfriend

soooo many blorbo and boyfriend song opportunities on this album for real..... !!

[trans-xianxian]

my old boss who unceremoniously fired me over text message a week and a half before I was supposed to go back to that job is simply ghosting my request for an open letter of recommendation and has apparently told the kids that I quit. kill yourself

[iii-days-grace]

yeah but what if they were large adult men who lived in a cute apartment and kept bunnies and grew herbs on the porch for them to nibble. and one of them is able to cook just fine but won't stick to a meal schedule to save his life so the other one also cooks with the garden stuff to make sure his large giant boy eats something