#let me be real honest

[toastermin-it]

I AM ALIVE

what's up everyone? hello! it me :)

(unfortunately for you guys i am the same min, just a year or so older and way more tired.)

(i spelled put wrong in the tags i am so sorry guys it's "put" not "out")

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Hello Madam. Sorry Madam.

[First] Prev <–-> Next

[heich0e]

there's an east wind blowing beyond your bedroom window.

you know it's from the east because the rain falling outside is hitting the windowpane in a soft tap-tap-tap that occasionally intensifies on a particularly strong gust. you know your bedroom window faces east because every morning you can see the sun cresting in the distance, diffusing—soft and pink and warm on your favourite days—through the gauzy panels of your curtains.

"you up yet?"

it's not morning now. far from it, in fact. the night's still only new, though it's already fully-dark outside—and has been for most of the day thanks to the dreary weather. it's late enough in the evening that most businesses have closed their doors for the day and people have returned to their homes, but not quite late enough to justify the fact that you're already curled up tightly underneath the covers of your bed.

you roll over in your comfortable cocoon and spy touya in the doorway, leaning against the frame as he watches you.

he's got his coat on.

"are you going out?" you ask him, your voice a little thicker than it usually is. you've been awake for a while, but your afternoon nap (that ran longer than you expected) has left it hoarse from disuse.

touya makes a quiet sound of agreement. not quite a grunt, nor a hum, but something somewhere in-between the two.

you push yourself up slightly in bed, propping your body upright on your elbows. "but it's raining."

touya hates the rain, and has for as long as you've known him. he's the first one to complain when dark clouds roll in, to curse as his teeth chatter and he shakes droplets from his hair when he steps through the door after getting caught in an unexpected downpour, to go out of his way to avoid making plans that require him to leave the house at the slightest mention of inclement weather.

"'s letting up a bit, i think," he answers from the doorway with a little shrug. "i just need to run to the convenience store, anyway."

he shuffles a little further into the room as you lift your hand and reach out for him, approaching the edge of the bed wordlessly and slipping his hand into your own. he peers down at you from your bedside as you lift his hand and press it to your cheek.

"what do you need at the store?" you ask him, your lips pursed slightly. it's not that late, and the weather really isn't that bad, but you'd still prefer he stay here with you.

"ran outta patches today," he replies, though there's something almost a little resentful in the statement. even his expression is a bit more annoyed than it had been a moment prior, in a way that almost makes you giggle—but you suppose the nicotine withdrawal could be playing a part in that.

"just patches, right? not patches and a pack—"

"not patches and a pack of cigarettes to tie me over on the walk home," he finishes the sentence for you before you get the chance, rolling his eyes a bit. "i know, i know."

he frees his hand from your grip and pokes your cheek lightly, earning him a little laugh you can't help but let slip through your lips.

"i'm 24 days in, you know. not about to throw it all away now," he reminds you pointedly.

"good," you reply with an encouraging nod and a somewhat cheeky smile. you never doubted him anyway. "make sure you take an umbrella."

he nods, his touch still lingering against your cheek. his fingertips skirt down, tracing along your jaw, until he reaches your mouth. he presses his thumb lightly against your chin, seemingly just to watch your lips part.

"d'ya want anything?"

you shake your head in dissent, but then pause, your eyes lighting up.

"can you get pickled ginger?"

"pickled ginger?" he asks you, a bit incredulously. "again? thought we just got some of that."

"i finished the jar earlier," you reply with a shrug.

"that can't be good for you," touya remarks dryly, letting his hand drop from your face. "you're gonna start pickling yourself from the inside out if you keep eating so much of that stuff."

"it's not my fault that pickling is the superior form of food preparation." you flop back lazily against your pillows, meeting his gaze resolutely. you lift your fingers as you list out the various accolades. "cold, crunchy, sour, kinda sweet, sometimes spicy—what's not to love?"

touya's nose wrinkles. he's never been a huge fan of pickles, but especially not in the volume you've been consuming them lately.

"whatever you say," he answers, knowing now after all this time when he ought to bow out of an argument before it starts. "mom texted me earlier and said she was sending yumi over with side dishes tomorrow, and there'll probably be pickled vegetables in there. so you can wait until then."

"fine," you sniff, and you may pout a little, but touya knows your excitement at his little sister coming to visit outweighs any annoyance you may feel about having to wait a whole twelve hours to get your fix.

outside, the wind picks up again, and the tapping against the windowpane gets a little bit louder.

"sounds like it's getting worse," you murmur, your face turned in the direction of the window. you glance up at him again, blinking from where you're sprawled out across your pillows. "you sure you wanna go out in that?"

touya nods, kneeling at the edge of the bed and dipping down so he can press a kiss to your forehead. you're still warm from sleep, and soft in all the ways he's come to depend on. you smell like your shampoo and your sheets—and a little bit like him too, since the floral-printed bedlinen is as much his own now as it is yours.

"be back soon," he speaks quietly into your skin before pulling away.

you wave him off tiredly, and as he leaves the room, touya wonders if you'll be asleep again before he returns.

he pulls his shoes off the rack in the genkan, tucked away next to yours, and leaves his slippers there as he stuffs his feet into footwear better suited for the elements. he grabs his keys off the little table in the entryway, the keychain you bought for him at the aquarium glinting in the light as he tucks them into his coat pocket. last, he grabs the umbrella from just beside the door—he doubts he'll even use it, but you told him to take it, so he does.

there's an unexpected break in the rain as touya steps out into the spring night, and he blinks up at the sky overhead a bit incredulously when he realizes his luck. he doesn't linger to appreciate it for long, knowing that at any moment his fortune could change, shuffling off in the direction of the convenience store at the other end of the street.

he sidesteps puddles along the sidewalk on his way, admiring how the streetlights ripple in the surface as he passes.

touya used to hate the rain, but he can't help but think that it's not so bad when he knows that he has somewhere—and someone—warm waiting to welcome him home.

[goosesartblog]

i like her. not sorry

[turtleblogatlast]

Something I like about Leo is that he’s honestly really chill? It’s easy to remember the moments where he’s being obnoxious or excitable but I feel like most of the time he’s incredibly “go with the flow” and has an overall affable demeanor.

[thoughtfulchaos773]

Carmy is a grumpy dom with repressed energy all of season 3 compilation.

[bimoonphases]

@wolfstarmicrofic July 4 - prompt 4: Monsters [word count 701]

There had always been rumors about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Not only about their wealth, or the legend that they had been one of the first wizarding families in the British Isles, but also about their ancestral house itself. About what it hid, deep down in its basement.

Parents told misbehaving children to obey or they would take a tour of the Blacks’ cellar, and if they didn’t they were reminded of Andromeda Black, one of the girls of the old house, who had been punished and sent to the basement by her parents. The first time, she had come back silent and hiding scars under long sleeves. The second time, scars traversed her beautiful face and she didn’t speak again. The third time, she hadn’t come back at all. Parents told this story shivering at the memory of another misbehaving Black kid their own parents had told them about, and even after decades they still remembered the day Alphard Black, his arms and chest covered in scars, had disappeared. Whatever was in that cellar, the head of the House of Black used it to discipline his own children throughout the generations.

Only once, recently, there had been rumors about one of the children being sent to the basement as a punishment and coming out the next morning unscathed. It had been Sirius, who was the only boy left in the family, the heir so desired of the whole bloodline, and he hadn’t had so much as a scratch. That must have shaken the head of the house, his father, because for years after that episode the neighbourhood didn’t hear about anyone else being sent down to the cellar, not even Sirius for all his rebelling. Apparently, once had been enough.

Now Sirius had turned seventeen a couple of hours before, legally allowed to do magic, and he was silently making his way down the stairs to the basement, wand in hand. The heavy door at the end of the corridor opened without protest at one flick of his wand and he moved inside, carefully approaching the figure crouching in a corner.

“It’s me,” Sirius whispered.

His heart started beating faster as two eyes planted themselves in his. He had been twelve the first and only time his parents had thrown him in the cellar with the monster to learn a lesson. The only lesson he had learnt that night had been that his family had kept someone prisoner for years and used him as their personal weapon. Someone who had no fault in who he was or who he became once the moon outside was full. Someone Sirius had sneaked back to visit as often as he could, something pulling him towards him. He had brought him food at first, then blankets, then even books. When there was no full moon, the werewolf was just a boy like him. A boy whose name, before his parents snatched him away from everything that could have been his life, had been Remus.

“Sirius…”

“It’s time,” Sirius knelt on the floor, hesitantly putting a hand on one of the boy’s scarred arms. “I’m of age now, and I’m finally running away from this place. And you’re coming with me.”

“I can’t…”

“You can,” Sirius said, firmly. “You’re not a monster, despite everything they made you do. It’s not your fault. None of it is.”

“I don’t want to hurt you.”

“You never did, remember?” Sirius smiled.

Remus slowly nodded, and Sirius flicked his wand, making the chains binding Remus’s ankles to the wall fall open.

“What if they come after us?” Remus whispered, slowly getting up.

“There won’t be anyone left to come after us,” Sirius answered. “I made sure of that.”

There had always been rumors about the Noble and Most Ancient House of Black. Last but not least, the rumor about how the famous monster they had kept in their basement had finally gotten out one night and killed every single member of the family. Years later, the only Black remaining, Sirius, took his husband’s surname, officially wiping the Black name from the Earth. Their children, twins Alphard and Andromeda Lupin, were never told stories about monsters.

[preggomancer]

alan lives in a fantastical alternate world where they actually make cute maternity clothes

(he/him)

[b0tster]

replayed silent hill short message this morning. i think i really like that game, cringe and all

[lauteli]

A lucinda for thy troubles

[bleue-flora]

Wait... Dream was born on August 12, 1999 and Dream was arrested in the Disc Finale on January 20, 2021 soo... wait, wait, wait, that means he was only 21 when he was imprisoned for life in a small lava covered box!... Did I do that math right? 21?! Man was barely able to drink legally in the United States and they gave him a life sentence in a boiling cell with nothing but lava, raw potatoes, a clock, and some books?!... oh my god...

[misspoetree]

[Main Post: KinnPorsche + Text Posts: Vegas Edition - Part III]

[butterflysonnets]

yes i'm rooting for m*leven breakup because byler is neat but mostly? i'm rooting for m*leven breakup for the sake of el and mike.

to me, their romance was always a puppy love born out of a combination of social pressures, naïve curiosity, and a lack of true understanding regarding intimacy and romantic love and what it really is. it was real in that they do truly, deeply care about each other and they are close friends, maybe even shared an attraction, but a maturing romance is so much more than that. they've grown up and out of being boyfriend/girlfriend, and that's okay! i think television/film needs to show more often that most of us don't have definite "soulmates" or first childhood loves that we spend our whole lives with. it doesn't mean these relationships meant nothing and didn't impact us, it just means they've run their course and that something else is in the cards, and this is part of life!

i've always felt el was at her best and most confident self when broken up with mike, discovering who she was and what she liked alongside another girl her age instead of just relying on mike for mentorship on how to live in the real world. she deserves more of an opportunity to find herself, her autonomy, and her independence, and to love who she is, and she's made it clear she's felt insecure in the relationship with mike because she isn't being loved and understood the way she wants, needs, and deserves from someone who is her partner.

also, it's okay if mike doesn't love her in "the way he should". he is not obligated to love her romantically and stay in a relationship with her just because she's a girl, because she "needed someone", or because he cares about her a lot. he shouldn't be pressured into a romance if it's not truly coming from his heart. he deserves freedom to find out and honour who he is, too, instead of just staying in his non-functional first relationship — one he got into as a child, essentially — and defining himself that way because it's what's expected when a boy and a girl are close. he loves her in some way, yes, but it's okay if he doesn't feel comfortable or secure being her boyfriend anymore, for whatever reason that is. he's felt insecure too, and that's valid and it matters.

they are their own people and are steadily growing and changing every day. they need time to figure out who those people are, and it's become clear (at least in my opinion) that those people aren't meant to be a couple at this stage.

they deserve freedom. they deserve to grow up and be authentic to themselves and not feel like they need to lie for the sake of a relationship. they deserve to move on from this version of their relationship that isn't making them happy and rekindle the best part of their bond: their strong, beautiful friendship. they don't have to be a couple if it doesn't make them stronger and better and happier people.

i think it would be healthy and wonderful for a show, especially one consumed frequently by young adults, to show a relationship starting, progressing, and ending on good terms in this way. sometimes things don't work out, and that is okay.

[gayofthefae]

Hey- hey- hey-

Will looked too.

[trickstersaint]

decomposition (dysphoria) // june 2023

[silvantransthranduiltrash]

“More dangerous and Less wise”

Yeah, ok, if we ignore the fact that it is a banger of a line and description, tell me again which elven race commited 4 massacres for jewelry?

Which races were ready to kill for it?

And which race’s king said that he would not ever fight a war for gold and jewels?

That’s what i thought.