Asinwhywereyouborn - Wyborn? As In "Why Were You Born?" - Tumblr Blog

they should legalize polyamory. everywhere. and im not kidding at all. if someone wants to marry multiple people they should be allowed to. for any reason.

DID YOU JUST CALL ALL THREE OF THEM DILFS BECAUSE NO. THERE ARE THREE MILF-TYPES, BUT ONLY SAM IS HOT. TF IS UP WITH PEOPLE THESE DAYS.

those three dilfs from mamma mia are so lucky they're in a romantic comedy and are only faced with undetermined paternity hijinks when they accept a mysterious out-of-the-blue invitation to an island and don't end up in some scary horror movie plot like the menu or the most dangerous game or scooby-doo 2002

my parents took my family to a lil town thing and I was told it was going to be small, a few food trucks, a park, no more than 500 people. I wrapped my head around that, and then when we got there, there was also a band. A shitty one at that. And there was only about 300 people all total, but most of them were crammed in front of the stage, where my parents insisted on sitting for a large chunk of our time there. So I got overwhelmed and I asked to walk home because it was within walking distance and I was told that if I went home, I'd never be allowed to go to a concert. (:

Life in an Autism World

perfect sphere, obviously. It's impossible for a naturally occurring thing to be a sphere; even the earth is slightly oblong. If there was a true, perfect sphere in an ancient civilization, of course I would build

Top ten questions to ask women: "if you lived in ancient times would you be more likely to start a religion around a perfect cube rock or a perfect sphere rock"

the first time i was like aware of the deep end of a hyperfixation I was in the middle of watching Twilight but my parents would only let me watch one movie a night and they realized i was Too Invested and told me that if i didn't do the dishwasher in time they wouldn't let me watch breaking dawn pt 2 and i'd never seen that one before and i got the dishwasher emptied and loaded in five minutes flat and i didn't miss a single dirty thing coming from the dishwasher

People who don't hyperfixate will never know the slightly horrible, completely impossible-to-replicate feeling of being so intensely invested in something it possesses you, takes over your waking thoughts and rides some weird line between being excited, anxious, and stressed as hell while still being entirely some other beast.

Me, who had literally zero friends through my childhood because I was homeschooled and not allowed to leave the house: wait, do y'all not have lil imaginary people with you at all times? Because James Potter is playing Minecraft at the foot of my bed and Sirius is singing in my shower

sometimes you just have to let yourself be a bit neurodivergent.

i hate going out, it gives me a lot of anxiety and sensory input that i dont like, and i am often forced to talk to people.

so i do this thing on more difficult days, or sometimes just for fun, where i "bring a fictional character with me". i walk and imagine Fictional Character walking next to me. they talk to me, reassure me, hype me up, whatever i need them to do.

today dean winchester came christmas shopping with me. he went over the list with me of stuff i needed to get, told me i was doing a good job every time i finished in a certain shop, reminded me to take a deep breath when i got a little overwhelmed.

and yea. its kinda silly. and i know its just me talking to myself in a different voice, but it Works! especially since all of my special interests/hyperfixations tend to be tv/movie related.

so do what you gotta do to Get Shit Done. stop holding yourself to neurotypical standards. if you need Fictional Character to tell you you're doing a good job, do it! if you need Favourite Singer to walk you to school, do it! yea it might feel silly but you're literally fighting against your own brain to get stuff done every single day. you can have a little self indulgent daydream, as a treat.

how dare you call me on my shit

AZRIEL FLUFFFFFFFFFFFFFFF

i love this sm

alcohol and pancakes

azriel x reader

summary: azriel was always devoted to you, but when drunk? He was clingy, touchy and devoted. And he wanted to take care of you even if his mind was spinning.

warnings: mentions of alcohol?

word count: 1.3k

this is a silly little thing because I’ve just read somewhere that Azriel gets clingy when drunk and oh my god that’s sooo cute 😭

Your touch on his cheek was like a soothing balm for a wound that throbbed and stung, with each languid and incredibly soft stroke easing the pain more and more. He let go, leaning into your touch.

Why did he always have to be the tough and unbreakable guy? He wasn’t that tough, nor unbreakable, he was just... himself. And your gentle caresses made him want to whimper. His honeyed eyes closed with a hum of satisfaction, and you laughed softly. Why was even your laugh soft? Azriel didn’t understand. Azriel didn’t want to understand.

“How much have you had to drink?” you asked, arching both eyebrows in pure tenderness.

It took Azriel several seconds to process the question, in reality, he had drunk quite a bit. But that didn’t diminish any of the things he wanted to do with you, which at the moment was nothing more than resting his face between your generous breasts. He nuzzled your palm, breathing in and pressing a soft kiss.

“Not too much.”

Liar. Lies. A shadow whispered in his ear, and Azriel nearly growled, brushing it aside and nuzzling your hand further.

“Ah, I see,” you murmured, entertained by the sight—a warrior nearly two meters tall, and a spy no less, clinging to you like a needy child craving affection. Your voice was drenched in amusement, dripping over him just enough to make him open his eyes slightly.

“I’m not that drunk.” He almost whined, his eyebrows furrowing, and you had to stifle another giggle. Not wanting to offend the oh-so-scary shadowsinger that was hovering over your body, laid across your marriage bed.

“I’m not that drunk,” Azriel repeated, this time with a firmer, almost defiant tone, though it wasn’t as firm or defiant as he intended, because you could see the tremor at the corner of his lip, trying not to smile like a fool upon seeing your own smile. He reminded you more of Nyx trying to convince you that he wasn’t sleepy at bedtime just to spend more time with you, than of the five-hundred-year-old spy that he was.

His eyes, usually as inscrutable as the night sky, were now clouded by a mixture of alcohol and a tenderness he rarely allowed himself to show—a vulnerability that made you stroke his cheek once more.

“Azriel…” you whispered with a gentleness that only softened the normally sharp edges of his face further. You could see the freckles scattered across his nose, small and nearly invisible, like tiny constellations marking his skin. And the slight green ring in the center of his eyes, and a few strands of hair longer than the others.

“I’m perfectly capable of taking care of you,” he said, burying his face in the crook of your neck, this time sounding more resolute, acceptably more resolute, as he breathed in your scent like it was a balm he desperately needed. The way his body, so big and strong, curled up against yours was a delightful paradox you couldn’t help but enjoy. Your arms wrapped around his shoulders to pull him closer. You felt the weight of his head on your shoulder, the brush of his dark hair against your cheek. “I can take care of you... always.”

A soft laugh, impossible to contain, escaped your lips. The irony of his words filled your chest with a playful warmth. “Really?” you teased, your hands caressing his back with the same slow indulgence of someone petting a spoiled kitten. Carefully avoiding his wings, so as not to turn clingy-drunk Azriel into horny-clingy-drunk Azriel. “Then, if you’re so capable, why don’t you go down to the kitchen and make me some dinner?” You were pretty sure he would wobble if he got up.

Azriel lifted his head, his eyes gleaming with a determined light that almost made you regret your words. He could make you dinner—no, he should make it for you. You were his mate, and he had lost count of how many nights he had come home dazed with exhaustion only to find a warm dinner and loving arms.

Before you could react, he got up from the bed with the agility of a feline, the weight of his determination palpable in the air, your thoughts incredibly wrong; he didn’t wobble even once.

“Azriel, no—” you began, reaching for his arm as he headed toward the door. “It was a joke, I’ve already eaten, please don’t try to make me dinner when you’re in this state…”

He didn’t listen, or decided not to, moving through the room with that lethal grace so natural to him. You were forced to follow him as he made his way down the hallway and then down the stairs to the kitchen.

When you reached the kitchen, you made sure to turn on the lights because Azriel hadn’t bothered, given that he was already opening the cabinets, inspecting their contents with an intensity that almost made you worry.

“I’ll make you pancakes,” he announced, and you laughed, so much that your cheeks turned red.

“Pancakes?” you approached him, placing a hand on his arm in an attempt to stop him. “Az, that’s not dinner.”

“It will be,” he said, determined, and his stubbornness brought another smile to your face. There was no stopping him now, so you resigned yourself to helping him.

He continued to inspect the cabinet contents, searching for something that he didn’t even have in mind. You couldn’t help but let out a giggle—he was so determined that he didn’t even seem lost.

“How about you start by getting the flour?” Azriel’s eyes lit up as if he finally remembered something. He grabbed the bag of flour. Then he looked back at the other contents in the cabinet, and you wanted to laugh again.

“The eggs and then the milk.” As he pulled out the ingredients with hands that were skilled but slightly shaky, you stayed close. He observed everything he had taken out, all placed on the counter, and then directed those hazel, clouded eyes at you, tentatively, in a silent question.

“That’s all we need.”

“Ah… I knew that.” He said as if trying to convince you of something.

“Of course you did, I wouldn’t doubt that my clever shadowsinger knew.” You were teasing him, but he didn’t even notice. Though you did notice the red that brushed his cheeks.

You handed him the bowl and the ingredients, watching with amusement as he measured and poured, his brow furrowed in concentration. His hands, which usually wielded weapons with deadly skill, now worked with adorable clumsiness to mix the ingredients. As he stirred, fearing that Azriel might spill too much of the mixture out of the bowl, you moved closer to help him, your hands gently falling over his, trying to guide him. Azriel froze for a second, and you knew almost instinctively that he was looking at the scars covering his hands, so different from the softness of yours. You offered him a warm smile, quickly making him forget about it.

The warmth of the kitchen was comforting, but not as much as the warmth radiating from his body next to yours. That warrior who could bring down armies was now focused on making pancake batter with the same seriousness he would approach any crucial task. And though pancakes weren’t a conventional dinner, you knew that the dedication he was putting into them made them more special than any banquet.

“Is this good?” he murmured, turning his face toward you, and for a moment, his honeyed eyes met yours.

“Perfect,” you replied softly, allowing yourself a small moment of respite in his closeness, enjoying the tenderness hidden behind that façade of hardness.

Azriel nodded, satisfied, before turning toward the pan that was already starting to heat. And as he poured the mixture, you couldn’t help but admire him, so determined and so devoted. All for you. All yours.

do people not check that shit 17 times

i'm sorry, do europeans not have this shit on hand because my dad has literally all of this shit in our garage rn

Link to original

mom, i know i said my health and mental health issues meant i wouldn't actually be going through with my life-long plan to be a fire fighter, but i might have changed my mind. definitely not because i'm gay. that has nothing to do with anything. nope. i don't even like women that much. i'm so straight it's funny. i'm a boyliker. yup. mens.

i've legit only seen this on pinterest

if we look at the original timeline (aka annabeth and percy being born in 1993) then 2009 was a big year for annabeth bcus not only did the battle of manhattan take place and she finally started dating percy, but also minecraft came out and i think that would be a big deal to her

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Share to save someone with nut allergies a hospital trip hoooly shit

fuckkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkkk

Stray Kids X Rolling Stone UK

Just a Felix clip he’s so silly :]

Baby Chan (tm) Just looks so confused ToT

Babbyyyy<<<333

Your soul stained my shoulders. My whole life smells like you. This will take time, undoing you from my blood.

Nayyirah Waheed

I adore this art style

Passport Fun

gods know I need it

This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.

wait, what?

i am not worthy of your nice glass

yo wtf

why is this on my dash

today of all day

wtf

Even if you were a difficult child, you didn't deserve to be hurt.

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He likes to brag about his bf from time to time