#from me

[solomiracle]

solomon going from horribly insecure and unsure of his relationship with mc because he believes fears he's not as important to them as the brothers are to "hehe i love my spouse sooooo much and they love ME so much and the brothers can fucking suck it and we are so happy i won i won I WONNNNNNNN" is peak character arc

[poeciles]

couples t shirts that say “please ask me about birds” and “please for the love of god don’t ask her about birds”

[thespiresleeps]

i will never understand the gax shippers who portray max as a self-absorbed and violent psychopath like i really don't care what anyone thinks of anybody i'm not the fun police but it's a little ridiculous how you can be invested enough in a guy to write fanfic with mostly him in it and said guy is max and you somehow come away from watching more than 10 minutes of his interviews thinking those are his primary characteristics. max who watches a martial arts demonstration and winces when somebody else gets hit because he felt it hit him too. max who feels bad about swearing on the radio because GP's family is watching. max who hates being late because it's not nice to make other people wait for you. max who is kind of terrified of sharks. and doesn't watch new movies because he already knows the ones he likes.

[fallout-lou-begas]

fallout if it was good

[molestershota]

who wants to be an unwilling participant for a lobotomy

[columbiformed]

I'm kind of a bad housemate bc I'm up all night slamming my head against the wall going "WHYYYYY"

[occasionalsnippets]

So like, do you guys think if people believed enough, someone who died could come back to life in tbhx.

Like, maybe you died. You died in your best friend’s arms because they couldn't save you. They were too late.

(Because you weren't meant to be saved.)

They cradled your body (still warm, still alive-) and murmured reassurances that you're going to be fine, you aren't going to die, you have to stay with them, please they can't live without you-

But, it's over. Your heart stopped. There's nothing they can do about it. Or, rather, there shouldn't be anything they can do about it.

Your best friend is a hero. They're brilliant and bright and so very open about their relationship with you. The people ask what happened to you. Your best friend says, "They're doing just fine. We had dinner together yesterday."

You're still alive, they tell themselves. You're simply asleep and resting. Soon, you'll be able to smile at them like nothing ever happened.

They keep pretending like you aren’t a pretty corpse kept pristine in their grasp. They keep telling people you’re alive. They keep telling stories about you, keeping the memory (the existence) of you tied to them. Who would doubt them? They’re a hero. There’s no reason for their words to not to be the truth. The people love them. The people love you.

Their efforts pay off.

You wake up.

It’s a miracle.

When you check your wrist, your Trust value appears, encircling it. The number is high. Too high.

"What did you do?" you ask numbly. "Answer me."

They smile softly, lift your hand, and press a kiss against the inside of your wrist reverently. Your blood flows sluggishly through your veins.

"I saved you.”