#my other birthday buddy!

[possessedpasm]

The more you know 🌈🪰

[palossssssand]

A gift for @khiptid :]]

[fannoona]

HAPPY BIRTHDAY TO MY OTHER MAN ❤️

[geonbaeeee]

MY COMMISSIONS ARE OPEN! 💝

Check out my cardd for more details & (link) samples. ☺️

[basofy]

my undying love for the lisa companions

i wanna draw more of them

first pic is bo singing la vida mejor :) no that's not the guy's voice watch the whole thing

second to last one is referencing this best post in the world..

sorry about fox garth wait no i'm not

MONEY GARTH ATTACK

[moinsbienquekaworu]

Devastating news: my brother is a normal person. It doesn't run in the family, I'm just a weird freak for no reason

[magentagalaxies]

one of the absolute funniest moments on scott's tour that i wasn't able to capture on camera (for obvious reasons) was at the meet and greet after the nashville show these two older gay guys mentioned they were reading scott's wikipedia page before the show to find out more to chat about at the meet and greet and like. idk if this is just because i am very familiar with scott's wikipedia page but you could tell that was the extent of their scott knowledge (which is valid not everyone is researching a documentary on the guy)

but then they asked about the poster for the lowest show, which they'd never heard of before their wikipedia reading, specifically this quote:

"The posters—featuring Thompson lying supine on the ground with a big wad of semen dripping down the side of his face—went up around the city on September 10, 2001"

and they were like "wow we'd love to see those posters hahaha" and i immediately jump in like "oh i have that photo on my phone give me like 2 seconds"

to be clear: these guys had not interacted with me or acknowledged my existence the entire conversation. they had their backs to me when they were talking to scott, i did not introduce myself as directing the documentary since i wasn't filming and they didn't ask who i am, etc. but my brain was like "oh someone wants to learn more about scott? my time to shine, let me pull up that folder in my camera roll". even scott was like jfc here they go again.

anyway i barely had to scroll back in my doc research folder so i immediately held out my phone to the guys and showed them this

it's a photo taken days after 9/11 of scott in front of the posters for his show which was supposed to open the following week

so i hold out my phone and explain this thinking like hey i'm being so helpful these guys wanted to see this aspect of scott lore and i gave it to them!! meanwhile these two old guys are like i can't even focus on the poster anymore i am standing next to scott thompson and also WHO THE FUCK IS THIS CHILD AND WHY DID THEY JUST HAVE THIS ON THEIR PHONE?

another one of the funniest tour moments was after meeting up with some gay guys in their 70s who were friends-of-a-friend-of-scott and immediately befriending both of them we were about to leave and i asked for their phone number and scott just rolled his eyes and was like i'll give you his phone number in the car as though he was saying "jfc jessamine this is ridiculous even for you". he never ended up giving me the old guy's number

[buckleyseddie]

all i can say is, i was enchanted to meet you .・。.・゜✭ [1] [2] [3]

happy birthday @cowboy-buck ♡

[avirael]

Lifeline

From one second to the next everything had faded to darkness with a blinding flash of light. The manic laughter piercing all of his thoughts and his own desperate and panicked screams. The destruction around them and his friends strained faces. Even all his pain and fears. From one moment to the other it was all gone. All that was left was dead silence and a bottomless darkness, into which he sank deeper and deeper. A sea of nothingness that swallowed him.

It was impossible to tell how long he had drifted through this darkness, not thinking and not knowing whether he was still alive or already dead - not caring even - , when a sound reached him. A faint voice, far… far away.

"Please wake up…"

"I can’t loose you too…"

It sounded so familiar. He was certain he knew it but names and faces had turned to such a faded unknowable thing in this blackness. He wasn’t even sure he remembered who he was himself or how he got here. But then there was this sad, familiar voice and he just knew he could trust it. Like his personal lifeline, his beacon of light, it lead his mind out of the darkness, that threatened to drown him.

***

As his eyes slowly fluttered open, his eyelids still feeling so horribly heavy, it was early morning. The sun shone through the window at the other side of the room and it was almost to bright to bear. His whole body felt stiff and sour as if he had been turned stone and was only slowly regaining his ability to move. His mind, as if clouded with fog, tried to make sense of where he was and how he got here.

Carefully he looked around. He remembered this place. It meant a lot to him but it still felt like a name he couldn’t quite remember although it was on the tip of his tongue. Then his eyes fell on a redhaired Miqo’te, asleep at his bedside, face half buried in his arms resting on the edge of the bed. A’viloh.

No!

All at once everything was there again. The fog blown away, unveiling all the horror that had led him here. He started to shake and squeezed his eyes shut. Panicked he tried to guard his thoughts, his feelings as good as he could, but then he realised that he was alone. Not the Miqo’te at his bedside, not in this room. Alone in his head, in his own body. Just himself. The intruder that had tortured him all this time was gone.

He let out a shaky deep breath and returned his gaze to the person sleeping by his side once again. He was alright. He hoped they all were. How had they managed to free him from this presence that had locked him up inside the deepest corner of his own mind? Not unconscious, no. Screaming and struggling, awake enough so he could feel the monster rummaging through every single one of his thoughts and memories, mocking him at every given opportunity. Mostly conscious as well as seeing and hearing but unable to speak up or stop himself. A fate he wouldn’t even wish on his worst enemies. The memory alone made him shiver again.

A’viloh, he realised it had been his voice he had heard, lost in the darkness. How long had the Miqo’te spent here talking to him? And why would he do something like this after all the trouble he had caused? He looked so peaceful like this. A far cry from the last time he remembered seeing his face, bruised and almost defeated. Back then he had feared the shadow controlling him would make his threats true and claw out all of his friends hearts or slowly choke them with his own hands. All he could think back then had been Please, not him too…

But A’viloh was alright. Thank the Twelve. Slowly he raised one of his arms and carefully brushed a strand of long red hair out of his sleeping face. But his shaky hand didn’t yet move as precisely as it used to and so the Miqo’te noticed the slight touch.

His face twitched and slowly he opened his eyes. All of a sudden that peaceful expression was gone. Replaced by an unmistakable deep sadness. Why did he look so sad? Without thinking he raised his hand again and gently caressed the Miqo’te’s cheek. But A’viloh flinched from the unexpected touch and hastily looked up. Accompanied by a sharp inhale of breath his slitted pupils dilated as his eyes fixed on the other one‘s face and his mind visibly raced to make sense of what he saw.

"Thancred…?", he whispered almost inaudibly with confusion written all over his face. There was an uncertainty to his voice Thancred couldn’t assess yet.

"Please don’t tell me you expected someone else…", he joked and tried to sit up. It was a mean joke, even to his own ears. But joking was his natural reaction when he didn’t know what else to say or when he was too scared to speak aloud how he truly felt.

A’viloh gasped. It was not quite a laugh but his mouth twitched into a bright smile for a second. "Thancred!", he repeated slightly louder as his eyes filled with tears. "You're awake!" Quickly he jumped up and threw his arms around the hyurs neck. His chair flew to the floor with a loud clattering sound that echoed back from the stone walls of the room. Thancred could feel the Miqo’te tremble and also the tears on his cheek as it brushed his own skin for a moment. "I thought I lost you..."

Suddenly A‘viloh gasped again and jumped back just as fast as he had thrown himself at him mere seconds before. He looked surprised by his own words, maybe he hadn’t meant to say that out loud. His face turned red and embarrassed he looked away. "I’m sorry…"

Oh no!, Thancred thought. Not him! That’s a horrible idea.

During his training he had learned to read people as if they were books. Just that books always had seemed boring to him in comparison. It was a useful skill for a spy to be able to see through his opponents, to be able to tell when they were lying or hiding something. But if A’viloh was trying to hide anything he didn’t do it very well…

It was a horrible decision to fall in love with Thancred Waters. A fact the Hyur suddenly got painfully aware of. People occasionally did that. Sometimes he wanted them to, if it was for a job and for example there was an information he needed. Sometimes it just happened without him planning to. On rare occasions he even felt bad about it, because all of them so far had ended up sad and disappointed. Because in the end he never had returned their feelings.

For some reason it bothered him that easily flustered, involuntarily funny, kind-hearted A’viloh might share this fate. He didn’t deserve that. The Miqo’te had helped save him, when it would have been easier to just kill him for sure. He had already endured enough because of Thancred’s mistakes, since people around him had the tendency to get hurt. But most importantly he considered him a friend.

For a short moment, back before the Ascian had hijacked his body, the idea had seemed interesting to Thancred. The Miqo’te’s shy and easily embarrassed nature had undeniably seemed cute to him, a strange contrast to the strength he possessed but didn’t seem aware of, and in a moment of selfishness Thancred had found himself offering an invitation with questionable intentions. But fate had different plans. It wouldn’t have been fair. Because he certainly would have ended up breaking the poor guys heart. Somehow that idea scared him.

Speechlessly Thancred stared at him, trying to find the right words. To convince him not to make such a grave mistake. And equally speechless A’viloh avoided his gaze. He already had said too much.

For a moment no one dared to speak.

Then another familiar voice sounded from the hallway.

"A’vi? Is everything alright? I heard a noise that sounded like something had --", Rael appeared in the doorframe and instantly fell silent as they saw Thancred sitting upright and awake in his bed. For a split second the Viera’s eyes wandered to dumbstruck A’viloh before returning to him, a polite smile forming on their face, which the hyur easily recognised as nothing more than that, a studied politeness.

"Thancred. You’re awake.", they observed calmly. "How are you feeling?"

Before he could answer, the Miqo’te regained his voice. "I’m sorry…", A’viloh repeated and then wordlessly left the room in bit too much of a hurry to not look strange.

For a second they both stared after him. Then Rael sighed and shook their head. "I will get Y’shtola or Urianger if that’s alright with you…"

"Of course.", Thancred nodded and Rael left as quickly as they had appeared.

The room felt very silent and empty all of the sudden. It would take a while to get used to being alone with his thoughts again. But as he sat there wondering how to fix this situation with A’viloh he could vividly imagine that spiteful, mocking voice again.

Good job, lover boy. Look at what you’ve done…

[ziggy-stardust-is-in-love]

There’s this kid I’ve known since pre-k. We have the same birthday and we’ve always been friends, one year we were really close. Anyways today he found out I was omni and he went on a whole rant about religion and stuff and how it’s wrong to love the same gender and now he hates me :( that’s honestly one of the longest friendships I’ve ever had

[sparkles-rule-4eva]

One of my buddies drew this and left it on my door this morning for my birthday. I just started showing her Sonic Boom Out of Context videos last Sunday.

Too beautiful for words. 🥹

[trainingdummyrabbit]

rolands birthday is in TWO DAYS and ihave been TOO TIRED TO DO ANYTHING !!!! CRUELTY!!!!!!!

[gummybugg]

You know it's pretty bad if I receive my own reminder that my birthday is coming up

[cherry-shipping]

HAPPY HAPPYYYY BDAY @avian-hearts!!!!!!!!!!!!! THIS IS KINDA WACK CUZ I HAVENT MADE A REAL ACTUAL PROPER DRAWING IN AGES BUT!!!!!!! still i hope u like it <3333

[meringuejellyfish]

why does my sibling get to share a birthday with naruto and i get nothing. not even a got damn lalaloopsy DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY LALALOOPSIES THERE ARE. and not a single one stitched on my day

[mobbothetrue]

i’m struggling to get to sleep a little, so i’m going back over childhood memories and stumbled across one that was almost a one hit KO.

I read a lot as a kid. My parents encouraged this, and got me a lot of books. Enough that, at one point, early in the morning and the only one awake, I was able to cover nearly every square inch of our living room in books. This probably led my parents to the realization that I, perhaps, had too many books, and we should get rid of some.

I was fine with that. I didn’t like to read books twice, you see, because I already knew where they were going and they didn’t entertain me anymore. That’s a philosophy that has changed, somewhat, with age, but that’s besides the point— there were a few books I wanted to keep. Strawberry Shortcake and something to do with mermaids. The few issues of the Beano I had. The Tin Soldier.

My parents boxed up a ton of books, and handed them in to my first grade classroom. Multiple large boxes of books. A comical amount of books. My teacher, Mrs. B, was very appreciative, But.

I don’t remember how this was uncovered. I don’t remember how I realized it, but… the tin soldier had been given away too. I didn’t mention it a paragraph ago, but it was my favourite book. I loved that book. It was about a tin soldier, missing a leg, in love with a princess or a ballerina. He got lost, or dropped, or maybe went on an adventure, I don’t recall, but in the end found his way back to the princess and was happy.

We did look through those boxes. Didn’t find it.

In sixth grade, I moved.

Well— technically, it was the summer between fifth and sixth grade that I moved. Still. In the years between, we never found that book. I had honestly forgotten about it. Sure, I had cried, but I did eventually find other books.

I guess word got around that I was moving. It was… something like the last day of school— not quite the end, but close. I remember snow on the ground, grey and slushy and mostly gone. I was just getting on the school bus to go home when Mrs. B came bustling out of the school.

She caught my backpack handle to get my attention, and I stopped on the steps of the school bus, looking down at her for what may well have been the last time I ever saw her. She had a book in her frail hands. The Tin Soldier.

She had never forgotten. She kept looking for that book. There was an apple sticky note on the front, addressed to me. It said some incredibly kind things, though most of the words are lost to memory. Encourage your creativity, I think, was the gist of it.

I just. Four years. She kept looking for that book for me for four years. I still have it, now, over a decade later. She must have had other, more important things to do. Four years! Where on earth had it been? I still don’t know, can’t imagine what could have possibly happened to it in the interim short of it slipping into a dimensional pocket. I loved that teacher.