#meg.txt

[toadbreath]

i often think about that deep diving expedition where a toad was caught on camera at the bottom of loch ness

i wonder how he’s doing

[celestialship]

imagine being out at an event of some sort with your f/o. you’re trying to keep your “mask” on, being social and keeping up with everything, but it’s starting to wear on you. there’s a lot of auditory and visual stimulation, and you feel your battery starting to drain. while the untrained eyes at the event still view you as participating, your f/o notices your little tells, how you’re feeling in this moment. your f/o grabs your hand, helping to ground you, and says “alright, we’re leaving. i’ll say the goodbyes for us, and then we’re going home.”

[etherovian]

“power of friendship”… it’s almost like teamwork is required when facing an opponent who is stronger than all of you individually and even combined. it’s almost like strategy is just as important as sheer power when it comes to winning battles. it’s almost like making plans that prioritise each person’s own strengths is smarter than simply all throwing yourselves at your enemy and hoping for the best. it’s almost like it’s not the power of friendship but the power of common sense to be prepared for a fight you could easily lose.

[claviclescoffeeandheartbreak]

Sometimes I don't even scroll I just go to my mutuals pics for a lil stalk and a pep in my step.

[screamingmandrakes]

girls will tell you hear me out and it's seventy year old snakeface voldemort (i’m girls)

[doffyslittledove]

i’m legit crashing out over doffy’s hand size

i cannot go on

[jannacalendar]

As of right this very second, nine of my friends are getting married this or next year. And me? I’m writing fanfiction for a minor character who appeared in about 14 episodes of a 90s tv show.

[cat-mellohi]

Tommy only talks to gods lately. And that's because they don't listen. And there is something comforting in that.

A bitter kind of relief.

He has always been a child of the Goddess, ever since he can remeber, always aware of her gentle hands keeping him safe even during the coldest nights. He remebers his first time in church and the warmth that spread in his chest at the idea of being one of her beloved children.

(He was never anyone's anyway)

But has she ever listened to his pleas, to his cries during those days of freezing waters trying to swallow him whole, of blazing fires that reeked of memories, and scorching winds on top of terribly tall towers?

She couldn't have been the one whose whispers he heard -no one will miss you-, carried by the breeze.

But if that wasn't her (and of that Tommy was sure), then he never heard her voice. Not in exile, not in a ravine too cold for a boy made of sunlight.

So why? Why wasn't she there with those gentle hands in the moments when he needed that protection most.

Tommy is a dandelion. Resilient, with roots deep and strong. But when the moment comes, he always needs that gust of wind to find his way.

(What are Wilbur, Techno -hell, even Dream-, if not that)

And when life thorn away all of those whom Tommy relied on, his Goddess was still there to provide directions. Just what he was supposed to do with this life, that he fought tooth and nail to keep living. He has always been desperate for someone to guide him.

But was she really ever there, did she ever even answer? Was it all just in his head?

Still, he didn't have time to ponder that, he had things to do.

(but what was he supposed to do?)

So he continued to talk to his Goddess, because even if she wasn't listening, there was comfort in the familiarity of it all. Comfort in the routine, in the words of the prayers, that he had recited ever since he was a child and that still tasted like a kind of home.

And secretly he hoped she wasn't there to hear and to listen to him, 'cause he didn't know if he really wanted someone to hear about all the fears that lurked in the recesses of his mind, and that so often took the form of those whom he was supposed to rely on.

He didn't want to talk to people about the void, that he could still feel pressing on his chest during the worst nights.

So he didn't know if there was someone that heard what he was telling to his goddess.

But it was ok, because they wouldn't listen anyway.

And maybe there was comfort in that, too.