people make fun of men for not changing their bedsheets and their terrible skincare but worry not, i combat gender inequality by being just as inept as your average man
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do ya ship rouxls with anyone or he's on his own being a self-centered, arrogant, awful, annoying, mean and rude darkner? I hate him
absolutely loving this energy you are so right
i kinda alternate between Queen and Mettaton if that makes sense??? like, no real preference for one over the other i'm just seesawing between those two as it mostly depends on the mood at the moment
and when it's not either one of those two it's just him on his own focusing only on himself, being a stuck-up moron and probably eating worms like "i'm so cool and awesome",,,,
(sadly got no art of Mettaton with the FOOL so far, only Queen with this goober, havent figured out yet how to make Mettaton look cool enough ouugh,,,,)
i mean like,,,
Queen - awesome cool girlboss, she's so silly and cool and energetic,, and she gets a dense malewife admirer??? absolutely slaying and thriving. she is very amused by this man who is as charming as a piece of soggy paper who often brings her little presents,,
Mettaton - on the surface it's two fancy showy guys, but one of them is actually pretty confident and a cool dude and the other one is a pathetic loser and a mess and i love that so much hogh,,,,
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this side of paradise
— ok so. i have no idea what motivated me 2 write this but my hands were itching for some words on the screen so tada! honestly this can take place at any point in the cannon bc its so vague but wtv! i do not think i write angst very well oh my balls (。´-д-)
character: isagi yoichi + g/n reader
c/w: sfw! but kinda sad ngl, angst (fr this time), falling outta love, not proofread lol soz m going 2 bed gn
when isagi's heart beats, it is not for the sake of keeping him alive. and it's not for you either, as you've grown to notice with each passing day that you seldom see him. instead, each beat is borne out of the love he has for the sport; a love so extreme its shadow looms over your entire existence, a threat growing with each victory and defeat. the pitch resembles that of a battlefield—much like the one you allowed your body to become after willing ignorance. he'll change, you'd say. he didn't mean to forget about it, you'd reason. i'll wait for him for dinner, you'd promise. he still needs you. he still loves you. but when the boy marches for war, his post is by the green field and not by the warmth of your skin. why do you enjoy loving blindly?
you tell yourself to be patient. to understand. to trust. you love him, right? and he loves you, no? so why invite all this doubt into your home? water all these worries to the point where they are overgrown—hell, verdant, even. why tire yourself worrying when he tells you not to? surely you don't think he's doing it on purpose, right?
but it's hard to not think that, isn't it? it's hard when conversations turn into brief greetings and goodbyes, hard when i love you turns into don't worry about it, hard when the only company you have at night is the unshakeable fear and unending heartache. but how lucky you are not having to worry about someone else—god, aren't you fortunate?
some people are born to love. some are even born with the ability to love so much that their heart can only beat for that very thing until it fails to do so. of course, there are the lucky few whose hearts are so strong that love can make a home out of their walls, a fire lit in all four chambers. but you two? love was only there for a fleeting moment, showing its face and baring its fangs before quietly leaving. for you two, love was merely a guest in the hollow house you had built.
maybe one day you will realise that roots cannot grow beneath a house that is both heavy and empty. when will you leave?
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okay so it's really no secret that my activity here has been spotty, and while i have no intentions of abandoning this hobby or hellhole [affectionate], i do think that the spotty activity shittiness is here to stay. that being said, one of the things i'm most terrified of with my #spotivity (youseewhatididthere???) is losing the awesome human connections that i've made with some of you, so if you're like "i wanna make sure that i stay in contact with you in a space that's broader than the tumblrsphere!" i do have snapchat and instagram and discord ( which i suck at checking lately too so i'm about that ). if you want to connect via any of those, please either message me or comment on here and i'll message you!
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Gone. He was gone.
Casey stared at the night sky now exploding with color as the mothership slowly sank back towards the earth, crushing hundreds of skyscrapers as a seemingly last ditch effort to destroy humanity.
They had won. The Krang was finished. Casey should be celebrating, should be shouting with glee at completing the biggest wish of the rebellion with a single motion.
Instead he crumpled on the platform, key in hand.
He had killed his Sensei. He had stood there and practically strangled him with his own two hands. His master was facing a fate worse than death because of Casey. And it wasn't even the first time.
His master was incredibly lenient when it came to Casey's requests as a child, willing to lift heaven and earth on his back for a kid who couldn't even spell his own name. Casey had caught on at how much his inquiries about extra rations or extra armor had slowly hurt his master, but Leonardo kept giving and giving without a second thought towards his own wellbeing. And Casey just kept taking and taking and taking until he finally took the only thing left to give. A smirk paired with some lighthearted quip, a shove towards golden light, and a smile to match the brothers who had fallen before him as his Sensei fought off the Krang for Casey. And then he was gone forever, bathed in a horrifying blinding light as Casey was overtaken by an equally brilliant orange glow.
And somehow Casey was incompetent enough to let this happen again.
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