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#hello umm
mayplantstarrwaters · 7 months
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sherwind · 4 months
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happy new year!
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m1ssunderstanding · 10 days
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my apologies for the terrible editing or whatever but Taylor Swift and Paul McCartney are the same people sometimes and I'm going to make that everyone's problem.
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weishenkun · 6 months
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231110 weibo live
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truevvamp · 8 months
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I love stories where the 8-th grader schoolgirl becomes god of the world. I think it's just another part of girlhood
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zukkaoru · 2 months
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medicalunprofessional · 9 months
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a bunch of doodles idk lmfaoooooo. its so hot out today i feel like liquid uuuuwwgghhhhhhh
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tw blood (pulled tooth.. eek!) below
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dont let its silly goofy demeanor fool you it was admitted to an asylum for a reason 🤯😭😭😭
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footballshowrot · 11 months
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mister fuckin tactile over here...
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astralstarlight · 2 years
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pairing: morpheus x reader
summary: morpheus apologises to you (kind of)
word count: 1.1k+
Morpheus–prideful creature that he is–does not seek you out at first. He can still picture your teary eyes and angry words in retort to him dismissing your ideas. It’s not that he doesn’t know he’s insulted you in some way, but apologising is a whole different matter. An apology means admitting that he’s done something wrong. An apology is the last thing on his mind right now. 
That’s what he thinks and that’s what his mind settles on. He’s satisfied for the moment, until he nearly walks past your statue-like form in between one of the bookshelves of the library. You’re deep in thought, fingers tracing the spines of the books on the shelf one by one, searching. One of your arms is already wrapped around a dangerously tall stack of books. You’re still helping him look for information, even though he’s brushed you off. A strange constricting feeling settles in his chest. 
He’s certain that if he was close enough, he could hear you muttering the alphabet under your breath, trying to remember exactly where the book you’re looking for is held. He’s been staring for much too long, but you still haven’t looked up at him yet. He moves to leave. If you wanted to talk to him, you would have by now. It’s been two weeks after all. Two whole weeks of radio silence from your end. It’s almost like you’ve disappeared into the cracks of the library. 
Morpheus has seen Lucienne look at him almost pityingly over the past few days, although she absolutely divulges no information about your location since he hasn’t asked. But Morpheus absolutely will not ask, thank you very much. He’s been content in inquiring about you over the two weeks, asking if you were well, and Lucienne has simply told him that you were. And there hadn’t been any real reason to not believe her. But seeing you now, even from a distance, is different. 
You look tired, blinking fatigue out of your eyes and they’re ever so slightly puffy. Perhaps he should conjure up more comfortable spaces in the library for you to sleep in. He knows you’ve been spending all your time here, because he has yet to hear Lucienne tell him that you’re out of the library when he asks. 
“Morpheus?” 
He flinches at the formal tone in your voice. Morpheus’ eyes scan your form one more time, before meeting your gaze. You don’t look impressed at all – one eyebrow raised and your free hand now relaxing on top of the stack of books, facing him completely. 
You sigh. “If you’re looking for Lucienne, she’s further down that way.” You point to the right, turning your attention away from Morpheus. 
“I’ve already spoken to Lucienne.” He speaks calmly, not a single tone betraying the nervousness he feels at all. 
You stiffen, eyes still drawn to the books on the shelves, blinking furiously. “Well,” you glance towards him again. “I suppose I’ll move out of the way so you can find what you’re looking for.” Despite the neutral tone you try to use to pull yourself together, your voice cracks at the end of the sentence and your eyes are almost misty, trailed onto the floor in front of you. 
No. 
You curl your form around your armful of books, stepping past Morpheus quickly. And he knows immediately, knows that if he doesn’t say something now, then he might never get the chance to again. And if this final opportunity is lost then– 
“Wait.” 
To his surprise you stop in your tracks, but you’re still looking down towards the floor, avoiding his gaze at all costs. Your breathing has become shaky and uneven. You take a deep breath in, eyes closed, before looking directly at him. “Did you need something else?” 
“Yes.” You. He shuffles his feet and it makes you want to burst out into laughter. He looks so awkward, so clearly out of his comfort zone, that you can almost immediately guess what he’s finally got the courage to speak to you about. The hesitation in his words speaks volumes, along with a slight chill settling around the library as the sun begins to set earlier than it usually does. Inner torment. The Dreaming follows suit with his emotions, and it’s become a lot easier to read him since you’ve realised that. He speaks before you can. “It was wrong of me to deny your ideas so viciously.” 
The last rays of sunlight trickle through the windows, catching the inescapable fleeting pieces of dust in its grasp, surrounding your form. You look almost ethereal like this, especially once your eyes soften and your lips break into a half-hearted smile. The start of forgiveness. Although, to be fair, he would describe you as ethereal under any sort of lighting. He watches as your eyes harden and you almost turn away once again. “Your way worked in the end anyways, didn’t it? So, why bother–” 
“Because I hurt you.” 
The words stop you in your tracks, and you pause. Interruptions while you’re speaking are rare and Morpheus has always been polite, waiting for you to finish your ramblings before he gathers his thoughts together. He listens, and he remembers well. He steps closer to you, watching you for any kind of discomfort. Morpheus cautiously reaches out his hand to tuck a stray piece of hair behind your ear. If you leaned forward just a little, you would be right up against him. Too bad that the books clutched in your hands set up a sort of barrier between the two of you. “I hurt you and I wish to reconcile that. It may not always seem like it, but I value your opinion and thoughts.” 
“Morpheus.” You say at last, eyes gazing up at him fondly. The light is so, so bright on your skin. “I know.” 
He straightens up a little, and you hadn’t even noticed he’d been moping and dragging his feet along the floor this whole time. His hands come up to grasp over yours under the books, tugging them out of your hands. You let out a noise of protest, but Morpheus doesn’t stop his actions. Whatever it was could wait. Whatever it was could not possibly be more important than him making up for lost time with you; right here and right now. 
Cold fingers brush your chin, tilting it upward to meet his gaze. He’s smiling. It’s the small smile that crosses his lips whenever he becomes pleasantly surprised or satisfied, but you’re not really able to look at it for too long because Morpheus–sometimes painfully awkward, and still trying to figure out how love with you works–leans down and presses his lips against yours. And well, you’re not really thinking too much of anything else after that. 
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bunabi · 6 months
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the only issue I have with Anders aside from the obvious is that putting an explosive in the chantry instead of the gallows was goofy
the toxic fumes from diy dyeing his coat vantablack soft-locked his neurons I fear
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yibo-wang · 1 year
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CHA EUNWOO x VOGUE KOREA
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smoosnoom · 1 year
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corollary
“Okay,” Mike echoes. “So, I was – thinking. We should sleep together." Will, for some reason, still looks lost, but he looks cute – sweet, like that, pink cheeks and eyes wide and glossy and the slight furrow of his eyebrows like Mike has given him something outlandish. “I,” he starts, “don’t understand.”
Mike proposes a sleepover.
Unsurprisingly, no sleeping is done.
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dorkicon · 6 months
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xaaron leading the wreckers
(meme under the cut)
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(cough)
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shadowaj · 2 months
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love is a war, as they say.
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natjennie · 1 year
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okay but the captain and kitty being bffs is so important to me and now im thinking about a world where, after the little garden skipping adventure, they go on walks around the grounds and talk and yeah cap is secretive but he's secretive in that dad way where if they have a captive audience they'll tell the craziest stories you've ever heard and kitty loves to just stand there and zone out looking at the clouds while cap rambles but the information does still seep in. so she knows all about havers and the letter and the mine and all sorts of cap stories no one has ever heard.
and one day cap is like really withdrawn, staring out the window at the garden and sighing and the rest of the ghosts dont know what to do because cap doesnt ever want their help, but then kitty goes over to console him and then she walks back over to the rest of them and theyre like what the fuck is up, is there anything we can do whats going on.
and she's like "oh, yeah, this is just the anniversary of william's death, you know, lieutenant havers? that man captain was in love with during the war who left him for the north africa front. it turns out havers loved him too, but was so afraid of getting caught he requested a transfer, and captain didnt know until william passed away. there was a letter addressed to the captain in his belongings when they got sent back to his sister, so it wasnt until she mailed it that the captain knew he felt the same way. so sad, isnt it, that they were right there, loving each other the whole time and couldnt do anything about it. for all those years. it's just tragic! but I'm not supposed to say anything about it because- oh goodness!" and she puts her hands over her mouth and everybody just. jaw dropped looks to the captain who looks Mortified.
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