#i'm too sleepy rn

[wildflowercryptid]

transfem rival!brendan is so real to me... ( version w/o flag, feel free to use with credit! )

— do NOT tag as genderbend/genderswap/etc!!

[moronic-validity]

I have been up for two hours and all I can think about is texting best friend Gaz like dude, fuckin tired. Can't sleep. Weighted blanket missing. SOS.

(just some thoughts bc I'm tired and not used to being awake before 10. 18+ due to a singular comment, but this is self serving fluff)

And Gaz replies, because he always does when it's you.

Be there soon.

You don't even check your phone when it dings, you know he's already on the way.

You try your hardest to try to get yourself back to sleep, but all the blankets and pillows in your house simply don't have the weight to help you relax enough to sleep.

He parks his car next to yours and lets himself in with the spare key you made him (in case of emergencies), and he kicks off his shoes at the door before making his way back to your bedroom.

You were covered in pillows, blankets, and every vaguely soft item you could find.

He snorted. You flipped him off.

He pushed all the pillows and various other items off of you (why the hell did you have a pair of slippers mixed in with all the pillows) and got comfortable, laying his chest across yours.

You sighed happily, finally comfortable enough to fall asleep. He was heavy, warm, and everything about him radiated safety.

"Need me to tell you a bedtime story too?" His chuckle reverberates against your chest and you nod, making him laugh again.

"Alright so, have I told you about the time I fell out of a helicopter?" You can distantly hear his voice as you drift to sleep, a welcome rest after 18 hours of stress.

You wake up at some point later in the day, Gaz's arm wraped around your waist, holding you close. It's comfortable, familiar.

You nudge him.

"Ky... Lemme up, need t' pee." He grumbles, stubbornly pulling you closer against him.

"Kyle, I'll piss on both of us, lemme up." Your threat means little to him. He's been covered in worse and it would just leave you with a mess to clean up.

You sigh.

"Kyle. I can feel your stiffy against my back, lemme up." His eyes snap open and he lets go of you, holding up his hands in surrender while trying to explain the concept of morning wood.

You wave him off, walking to the bathroom.

Single easiest way to make him wake up.

[cecexoxo]

I downloaded the new sims 4 pack "Love Struck" and got a call about a reality dating show while playing as Bruce. I accepted and now I gotta have him date people

[mochinon-yah]

I just wanted to draw smth and... yeah this happened

[mcromwell]

Me after 3 slices of freezer pizza and 24 hours of being awake: youw anna watch mungeon deishi

[why-the-heck-not]

at that weird stage where like ik it'll take only couple more hours and I'll be pretty much done with this thesis, but ohmygod. It's the boring "I'll cross that bridge when I get to it"-stuff. And now I got to it and the bridge is so boring !!!!!

[kaialone]

Just some interesting details mentioned about Paracelsus in the Slash Beat Encyclopedia and the 10th Memorial Book:

He was originally a stone axe created during the final period of the Crusades (remember, they lasted like a 100 years.)

It's described that it'd display its full power by sucking up blood, even before it was a sentient being. (So, I'm assuming he was some kind of magical weapon from the start? I think Slash Beat Encyclopedia even indicates it might've been a bio-mechanical weapon, but that bit is not mentioned in the 10th Memorial Book, and that one's more recent. EDIT: Looking it over again, I realize it could've meant "creature-shaped" rather than bio-mechanical.)

Its transformation into a Magical Foci (though for the reference, this specific term wasn't applied to Paracelsus until Xrd, I believe) and gaining a sense of self is said to have been a gradual result of him absorbing too much blood. (There's some additional details about how Magical Foci in general are born from Xrd's GGW and onward that don't come up here yet)

He began to communicate and even started picking his own wielders and the like, and sought for a purpose in life through his achievements in battle.

[jimmyspades]

[dotster001]

What if I just....stopped writing the when you escape him series.... 😂

This is a joke, I'm just sleepy and having writing burnout lmao, and the Diasomnia chapter is not writing itself, despite the fact that I'm cheering it on. Like, I gave the doc three hours, and it didn't write anything!

[georgieluz]

– did you love me when he was just my friend?

papa i don't need a preacher / i ain't some kind of creature / from some old double feature / i just wanna make you proud / of the kind of love i've found / but you say it ain't allowed / say it's a sin / but it's how i've always been / did you love me when he was just my friend? / daddy, do you think i've turned out right?

george luz, son of a small town preacher, grew up hearing that all love is heaven sent, that it's holy and true in all its forms. it was told to him every night before he closed his eyes and by the time he reaches adulthood, it's a core part of his nature. love is good. welcomed and encouraged. he sees it in the way his father glances at his mother, sat next to him in the second pew, before he begins every sermon, and he sees it in the quiet support she always gives back. he feels it every day when his dog licks at the palm of his hand whilst he sits restlessly on the front porch, wondering if there's something more out there than this one small town.

love is good. welcomed. encouraged. he meets the new hire at foxtail creek, a small ranch about a mile outside the town border, in the summer. the newcomer mostly keeps to himself, a rancher looking for temporary work. george can't help but be intrigued by the first outsider he's met in months and takes it upon himself to befriend the man. he'd always been good at making friends, most just pass through, or eventually move away, but george had always been content with the fact that his self-proclaimed wit and charm managed to win them over for however long they gave him. slowly, as he and the rancher become more and more intwined, george begins to realise that, in his neck of the woods, not all love is sent from above, at least not in the eyes of his friends and family.

– playlist for fic: heaven sent

– cowboy collab: #easy company cowboys

[orionscelt]

@legacyshenanigans slides this under ur door

I am looking at Rowan respectfully 👁️👁️

[colgatebluemintygel]

wip ask game

YAY thank you for the tags my lovelies @fruityindividual + @lynxindisguise <3333

rules: list your wip file names, no matter how descriptive or ridiculous. then, let people send you asks with the file name that most intrigues them, and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! then tag as many ppl as you have wips.

oao

fairy sirius

frankenstein

love n longing at the edge of the world

post hoggy summer of love

alien remoose

sad soggy scottish seaside au (aka selkie remus)

tagging: @pancakehouse, @maybebabyplease (ik u have banned yourself from fics but EYE DONT CARE i will b the devil on ur shoulder..😇), @mblematic, @sectoren, @a-fiery-fox, @blackberry-sunset, @solmussa, @mostlyoptimisticdinosaur, @magswrite <3

[hannahssimblr]

Ivy is in her pyjamas by seven that evening but she won’t settle. She keeps insisting that when mom and dad are gone she doesn’t have to follow any rules, including bedtime, and I realise the error of my ways in establishing this dynamic with her. Perhaps being the fun brother has too many downsides. 

“Please, Ivy, just get into bed, what do I have to do?”

“I’m not tired.”

“I don’t care, go anyway.”

“What if there’s something good on telly that I want to watch?” She swipes the remote from the table and switches on some re-run of Gossip Girl, which is absolutely not allowed.

“No, turn it off, that’s not for you.”

“It’s for girls, it says it in the name.”

“They’re not girls, they’re… ladies, and they’re all spoiled. A bit like you, huh?” I snatch the remote out of her little hand and flick it off, so she balls her fists up in frustration and starts pummelling me with them. It is nine o’clock in ten minutes and I haven’t gotten around to cleaning our breakfast, lunch or dinner from the kitchen. Baguette crumbs and puddles of spilled hot chocolate still litter the table and counter upstairs making it look like, well, like a teenage boy is running this operation. 

“Stop,” I cry, “you’re over excited, this is what happens when you get too much sugar, I swear to God…” 

“Give me the remote!”

“No!”

“I want to watch TV!” 

“Go. To. Bed.” I put the remote high up on a shelf where she’ll never reach it, which is a stupid idea, because she shrieks and starts trying to scale the furniture to get closer to it. I swear I can feel the ticking of the clock inside my brain by now, she has to go to bed, I don’t know what else to do. When she gets onto the coffee table she kicks over the glass of orange juice that she asked me for fifteen minutes ago and sends it to the floor with a hollow thunk. I stand and watch as liquid pools over the hardwood flooring and I feel something in me snap. I grab her and yank her down hard. Way too hard. 

“Ow, ow,” she cries, “let go!” and I peel my fingers away to see the red ring I have left around her little wrist. Tears have sprung to her eyes, and in a panic I get down on my knees and hold the sides of her head as she begins to shake with sobs. 

“Ivy, I’m sorry,” I say, “That was too hard, I didn’t mean to hurt you, I really didn’t, I’m sorry…”

“I just wanted to watch the telly,” she whimpers, and fat tears pour down her round cheeks and drip from her chin. I feel ill. This is what happens with me, all the time, I get her hyped up and feed her sweets and then I get angry when she can’t calm down. She’s just a little child and I’m a fucking idiot without a clue about how to be responsible. It’s only been a day since we’ve been left alone and look at us now, the kitchen is destroyed, there’s orange juice seeping into the oak flooring and I’ve made my sister cry. 

“Ivy, please,” I say, “I’m sorry I hurt you, what can I do to make it better?”

“I don’t know.”

“Do you want me to call mom?”

She gasps, “No,” and she’s right, what a stupid idea. 

“Do you…” I look around me in a panic, “Do you want another hot chocolate?”

This brightens her up, “Another one?”

“Yeah.”

“Really?”

“Of course, yeah, sure. If you… If you get into your bed I’ll take it in and you can have it there, what do you think?”

She swipes her hands over damp cheeks, “I’m allowed hot chocolate in my room?”

“Yeah just for tonight, and only if you promise that you won’t spill it or tell anyone else. Okay?”

She nods, and I breathe a sigh of relief. 

She goes to her room while I head up to the kitchen and shove old plates and mugs out of the way to make room for a new one. I give her two scoops of chocolate powder and extra marshmallows as a guilty offering, and as I’m stirring it all together with hot milk a shadow crosses the window.

I curse under my breath. She’s five minutes early, and usually I’d be happy that a girl was so eager to hang out with me, but now is a less than ideal time. I try to get to the door before she does but I don’t make it, and the doorbell rings obnoxiously through the house. 

“Hello,” Clóda says when I open up to her, and her eyes immediately drift to the ridiculous looking hot chocolate in my hands, “Um, is that what you’re drinking?”

“No, um, it’s not, it’s for my sister.”

“She’s still up?”

“She’s going to bed now, I just wanted to bring this to her, and then we’ll be on our own,” She steps inside and I close the door gently behind her. 

“Is that a good idea?” She wonders, “All of that sugar?”

Fucking hell, I don’t know, do I? “It’s fine. You can just come downstairs and sit on the couch, I’ll be a minute,” I see her taking in the mess of the kitchen, and add, “don’t worry about that, it’s just been a busy evening, it’s not like that usually.”

“Okay.”

Ivy is sitting up in bed wearing an anxious expression. “Who was at the door?”

“Jen.”

“Oh,” a pause, “Did she lose her key?”

“Yeah she did, she was out on the beach and it fell out of her pocket.”

“Oh no, I hope she can find it.”

I push her fringe away from her forehead, “yeah, I hope so too. You know how it is with girls' pockets and all, they don’t really fit much in them, do they?”

She smiles, “No, they don’t. So it’s not really Jen’s fault, it’s her jeans.”

“Exactly,” I straighten up, “You okay now?”

“I think so.”

“Okay well, if you need something just shout for me and I’ll hear you. Don’t come out into the living room or anything, I’m going to be, um, watching a really scary movie.”

“Oh okay.”

“Goodnight Ivy.”

Beginning // Prev // Next

[yourlocalnameless]

ok so yesterday a friend of mine said like

A: YOO YOU SHOULD JOIN A DRAWING CHALLENGE

T: ALR BET I SAW THIS THING CALLED FISHUARY-

A: Bro you do nothing besides draw fish 😭🙏 go marry finding Nemo or sum be more creative 🗣

T:BETTTT

So that's why I'm joining funguary instead!

Keep in mind I am a beginner artist so shit MIGHT NOT look good but yeah! If anyone needs brush names let me know 💯🗣

this is day 1 mycena subcyanocephala

Shes wanted in 52 countries for sprinkling sand in people's eyes at night. 😍🥰

[vulpinesaint]

local literature major horrified to find out that he has to read for homework

[satanfemme]

On Thursday, Maryland’s Senate Finance Committee heard Senate Bill 119, a bill that would make Maryland a sanctuary state for transgender individuals and providers fleeing other states. The bill would add gender-affirming care to a law passed last year that shields abortion patients and providers from out-of-state prosecution and investigations. Many more individuals testified in favor of the bill than against it, including Maryland state government officials who remarked on its necessity. If passed, the law would make Maryland the 12th state, not counting the District of Columbia, to do so.