god's weakest soldier is scrolling tumblr instead of being productive or participating in any of their hobbies
styofa doing anything
hello vonnie
ojovivo
dirt enthusiast

★

shark vs the universe
Three Goblin Art

if i look back, i am lost

pixel skylines

⁂
RMH
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ

Love Begins
Peter Solarz
d e v o n

No title available

#extradirty

JVL
we're not kids anymore.
No title available
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@kindnzss
god's weakest soldier is scrolling tumblr instead of being productive or participating in any of their hobbies
accidentally said "invasive thoughts" instead of "intrusive thoughts" today and actually I think I'm onto something. this thought does not belong here and it is harming the local ecosystem
"Waa why aren't fandoms fun anymore" because you keep policing people's headcanons, make fun of cosplayers,make fun of selfshipers, make fun of beginner artists and just make fun of people for having fun 😐
Also nobody talks to each other anymore. People lurk silently and sometimes like stuff, but nobody exchanges their thoughts and ideas anymore. Which is pretty shit considering fandom is a hobby that is supposed to be about community and not mere consumption.
a hobby that is supposed to be about community and not mere consumption.
kind of weird how parts of your soul are left in various locations without any warning… like yes i’m always at the top of that hill, sitting at the bus stop, in the cool light of the Japanese restaurant, standing at the pier etc etc
disabilities are not superpowers, that being said having auditory processing disorder my entire life made me insane at freestyling, cause my mental libary of homophobic phrases (rhymes) is massive and keeps expanding every day
HOMOPHONIC PHRASES HOMOPHONIC HOMOPHONIC SOUNDALIKES RHYMES ECHOS
HAVING AN EXTENDED LIBRARY OF HOMOPHOBIC PHRASES DOES NOT HELP YOU WITH FREESTYLING UNLESS YOU ARE EMINEM.
NOT THIS ONE IM BEGGING
I do often think about how the origin of “he would not fucking say that” was in reference to a post which depicted Cartman SouthPark responding politely when asked for his pronouns
meme phrases are so mobile and versatile and that's really really beautiful but i'm always thinking about the first "she x on my y til i z" being "she ebbin on my neezer til i scrooge" and the first "fork found in kitchen" coming from a tweet about sehun from exo being spotted at a gay bar. like sometimes you just utterly nail it the very first time and no variation of the joke is going to be better.
EXACTLY.
a small collection
I'm on a noble quest to feel something
things felt so far:
humidity
shame
they should make a version of socializing that doesn’t make you feel like you’re still the weird 12 year old kid that doesn’t know why she’s not normal like the other kids
Trying to write Fated, and then got inspired by this post and decided "hey, why not write a future scene since you're also in the mood for marecal angst"
It's currently 12 am in where I live, I wrote this while half delirious after celebrating CNY and I groped myself more times than can be considered normal while trying to visualise a certain scene *cough* so anyways here's "don't be such a possessive ass", in honour of Cal being a fuck up
Warning: I write this man absolutely pathetic for his girlfriend-turned-weirdthingthatslikeadivorcedwidowbutnotreally, so if you cringe just know that I probably did too while cackling
---
Don't look at her. Don't look at her. Don't look at her.
Cal could feel the heavy weight of eyes on his back as he pulled his shirt off. It burned trails down his spine, and it took everything in him to keep his eyes angled away. He wouldn't look at Mare, especially not when he heard the soft thud of silk hitting the ground as she undressed. It wouldn't be the first time he views her in nothing but underclothes; hell, he had seen her completely naked plenty of times but even standing in mere proximity felt more so an invasion of privacy.
He didn't deserve to look at her, not after what he had done on that day. The words felt so wrong coming out of his mouth, as he tried to convince her and mostly himself that what he was about to do was the right thing. That for once in his life, he had made the correct choice. The alliance would never have held up, and the current political situation is too precarious to leave any role of monarch vacant, Cal told himself in vain hopes of coming to peace with his decision. There is more that one can do in a position of power than without.
The desperation and the heartbreak as he begged and pleaded had been oh so real however, scorching bitterness that coated his mouth with an acrid aftertaste long after she left. If she hadn't turned away, he might have gotten on his knees and grovelled at her feet in the mere hopes of getting her to stay.
But as usual, he could never bring himself to stop her, to grab her hand as she walked into the distance. She deserved that freedom, at the very least.
"Here." Farley's voice jolted Cal out of his unknowing journey through painful memories. He blinked furiously, whirling around quickly enough to catch her eyes narrowed at his exposed collarbone.
Oh.
Cal would be ashamed to admit it made his insides curl with undeserved pleasure every time he spotted that dark bruise reflected back at him in the mirror. It was thoroughly distracting, allowing him to bask in the ghost of her lips on his shoulder back in the peace of Piedmont before reality slapped him cold in the face.
He wasn't going to get a new one of those any time soon, if ever again.
Stop.
"Nothing in your size, Barrow?" Tyton was a man of few words, and he conversed in a manner far too relaxed for someone about to go out and fight.
"I'll have words with the tailor when we get back." Mare spoke so casually, it made a part of him ache. The words she exchanged with him at the dinner were clipped and cold, and hearing the mock smugness in her voice stirred unwanted emotions in him.
Stop it.
Unconsciously, Cal exposed the bracelets glinting on his wrists. It was a longtime habit of his, whenever he felt particularly annoyed or uncomfortable at what someone said. It usually served as a threat, for when his patience was being pushed.
He followed behind the group as he grabbed a pistol and sufficient ammunition. His ability would usually suffice, but the more time he spent outside the Silver court the more he realised that it usually was better to have some form of backup plan. Especially when dealing with silence.
He saw Tyton shove gear towards Mare as she protested against him. The way he looked at her triggered something in him, a small prick of sourness at the tip of his tongue.
"Some raiders are silents." Mare froze, the fear in her eyes a familiar heart-wrenching sight to Cal. He was well aware of how terrified of silence she was, when she woke up screaming in the middle of the night, her eyes wide as she buried her face in his shoulder.
Stop it. Get her out of your head, Calore.
His eyes were still on her as Tyton proceeded to fix the belt around her waist. He said something, but all Cal could pay attention to was his fingers grazing near her hipbone as he adjusted the buckles around her waist. The way that slipping the gun into its holster allowed his hand to brush the side of her ribs, far too close to the lower curve of her breast to be considered chaste.
He probably watched her strip.
Cal's stomach stirred with a feeling he couldn't name. It was an unpleasant sensation, flaring in him like a roaring inferno, manifesting as waves of radiating heat exploding out from him. He glared holes through the floor as he tried to calm his breathing down, all the while storming ahead and refusing to look at her.
Mare had the right to talk to whoever she so pleases, and she could very well deal with inappropriate contact however she saw fit. She didn't and will never belong to him, though it wasn't like he was going to police the way people interacted with her. They were now, at best, reluctant allies and nothing more. She clearly loathed him and while he could never bring himself to hate her, his feelings towards her were an indiscernible mix of yearning and betrayal and devastation. No longer were they the same people who laughed at dinner parties together and comforted each other after traumatic nightmares. He shouldn't be feeling such things from seeing her intimacy with another man, he couldn't. It would be his ruin.
But right now, Cal's mind was far too preoccupied with the hundreds of different ways he intended to murder Tyton if he ever dared touch her like that again. Starting with the burning of his hand off, ending with the incineration of his ashes.
"Careful with those hands, Tyton." Cal's voice was low, a barely concealed threat. "She bites."
Tyton laughed mockingly, his eyes fixed on a particular spot on Cal's shoulder blade now covered with cloth.
Ah.
It appeared that Tyton was more than aware of the accidental innuendo Cal had just created. Somehow, it made him even more infuriated, the fact that Tyton had seen it and still decided to go ahead with whatever the hell it was he was trying to do.
He was distracted away from his fury by Mare walking up to him, her eyes alight with an unusual amount of fire. It sparked something in him, seeing her cheeks, the tips of her ears and her neck all tinted bright crimson. Apparently she still felt enough towards him to be capable of embarrassment and he didn't know what to think of it. Everytime their eyes met, it triggered an irresistible impulse in Cal, to hold her again like he would have before the world came between them. He resisted it once more, like he had every time before.
He distantly thought about leaving his own noticeable mark on her, so that some people would keep their hands to themselves before realising with some horror that it made him a terrible person to think things like that.
She continued till they were standing side by side and he could hear her soft breathing.
Then she slammed her elbow hard into his side. "Don't be such a possessive ass." Her hissed words stung more than the new pain in his ribs. "If you insist on calling yourself a king, you can at least act like one."
Possessive. Never before in his life had Cal felt territorial feelings of any sort. As the crown prince and future king-to-be, he had everything he could ever want served to him on a gold-rimmed platter. Riches, authority, suitors all waiting in line for his perusal.
And yet, her love being the one thing he ever desired, her being the one person he was so desperate to have by his side, she just kept slipping through his fingers. It was a special kind of frustration that warranted the pained sound that left him.
He watched as she turned her back on him, just like she did on that balcony in Corvium with tear stains on her cheeks.
Another part of him broke.
Pull it together, Calore.
---
Thanks for taking time out of your day to read this, people's comments really do fuel my "oh wow people actually care about the things rolling about in my brain" syndrome :)