happy birthday chongyun!! your bestest most favoritest buddy good old xingqiu baked you something special to celebrate
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★

JVL

Discoholic 🪩
Claire Keane

@theartofmadeline
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if i look back, i am lost
Alisa U Zemlji Chuda

tannertan36

izzy's playlists!
sheepfilms

titsay

shark vs the universe
Peter Solarz
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
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roma★
🪼

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@furarie
happy birthday chongyun!! your bestest most favoritest buddy good old xingqiu baked you something special to celebrate
:J xiaoven
nooo dont take my vision aha yuor so sexy
physically i’m here but mentally i’m floating face down in a river
Y'all really see [REDACTED] and hit that reblog button, huh?
what does this say i just saw [REDACTED] and hit reblog
[REDACTED]
[REDACTED]?
Okay let me spell it out for you…
that’s a terrible explanation! here, this is much clearer.
I hate all of you
concept: elves are supernaturally good at everything ONLY because they live to be bonkers old and if you were hot and sexy for thousands of years you’d be kickass at archery and treeclimbing and horseback riding too. but like there’s 20 year old elves out there that are just straight dumbasses who can’t do shit.
concept: non-elves can’t tell the 20 year old elves apart from the 2000 year old elves
concept: there’s a 20 year old elf in your tavern and he’s counting on this
@boredwriter-16
This made me smile
A pessimist sees a dark tunnel.
An optimist sees light at the end of the tunnel.
A realist sees a freight train.
The train driver sees 3 fucking idiots standing on the train tracks.
Jeffrey Jefferson, my main man, this is a baller ass joke.
A powerful witch runs away after the villagers try to execute her, couple years later children randomly start disappearing. She’s taking abused children away from their parents and raising them in the woods. But once they grow up and leave, they forget how to get to the witch’s house and their memories of her become blurry.
The town was evil. But the children? They were still pure, there was still good in their hearts, trickling out of their mouth and ears and gentle hands.
She stayed there for years, trying to protect them as much as she can. Even after the villagers had enough of a witch living amongst them, she still took in the lost children.
Every parent’s worst nightmare is their children growing up. The witch was no different.
Her kids, they called her mama once. And now when they passed her as adults, they didn’t even give her a second glance. As far as she figured, they didn’t remember her at all.
(She’d tried talking to Benjamin once, one of her favourites, because he had been a clingy child who couldn’t bear to leave her side. He was thirty when she tried visiting him. When she approached him, he treated her kindly, but the kind of pleasantness you show to strangers and not someone you call your mother.)
The witch was sad, of course. But there was nothing she could do; they had to go, sooner or later.
One of her boys entered her room. “Mama?”
It was Peter, her oldest. He was turning eighteen in a couple of days, and soon it would be his turn to leave.
It hurt her to see him already.
“Yes, love?”
“I am leaving soon,” Peter said. A statement, not a question. “But I don’t want to.”
“You have to, love. None of your siblings wanted to leave,” she answered, simply. “But the hour you turn eighteen, you’ll forget. And you’ll wander off, and then you’ll never find your way back.”
Peter looked sulky. “Isn’t there some way to make me not forget? I don’t want to forget you, ever.”
She almost laughed because of how close she was to crying. Her boy. Her sweet, sweet boy.
“I’m sorry, love.”
He slammed the door behind her when he left. Peter had always been a fiery one.
When she opened the door on the day of Peter’s eighteenth birthday, she expected him to be gone by then.
Instead, her boy was sitting on the bed cross-legged, holding an empty bottle.
He had drunk a potion. An anti-aging potion.
“I found a way, mama,” he said, his eighteen-year-old hands clasping here, firmly. “I don’t want to forget you.”
He left, too, when he got bored of being cooped up in the house with no company. But he visited her every few years, bringing her stories of how he visited children, following in her footsteps.
They called him Peter Pan, the boy who never grows up.
Check out the story tag for more short stories
So cool.
CHIIIIIILLLLLS
OH MY GOD. I am CRYING
me, with a vague plot idea, 1 (one) character name, and an outline that consists of mostly question marks:
sci-fi jobs that must exist that i find inexplicably amusing:
space customs
tow trucks except they’re towing illegally parked spaceships
for that matter, spaceship thieves, if only for how much more effort i imagine that would take
irs agents who have to find tax evaders who went 2 or 3 galaxies over
literally everything about the concept of the space version of the dmv
imagine being the person who teaches hapless 16 year olds how to fly a spaceship
people who analyze Old Earth media for a living the same way people now analyze shakespeare or beowulf, aka a bunch of scholarly and serious academics writing papers arguing the true meaning of Mean Girls and Jojo’s Bizarre Adventure and A Very Potter Musical
cruise spaceships. you’re taking a slow tour of saturn’s rings and people are still complaining about you running out of cocktail sauce
feel free to add more
Judge: I order you to pay $10,000
Mario: why?
Judge: it’s a fine
Mario: [sadly] no itsa not
Plz Jeff, change your url
I pretend to go to the bathroom so I can express emotions in private
if my dad made me wings out of wax and feathers in order to escape our prison home i wouldn’t die
rip to icarus but im different
oh mine god, i accidentally hath sent thou a picture of mine cock and balls...prithee delete it!! 'Lest...thou desire to look? haha I jest, delete it...should thee crave... haha nay, banish it...'lest?
wanting to dismantle beauty standards but also defining yourself by them