Me: *stuck On The Same Spot For Days, Trying To Connect Two Lines Of Dialogue And Unable To Determine

“Your art isn’t valued by the number of notes you get” okay but. If you spent 6 hours baking a cake for a party, but no one at the party eats your cake, it’s still disappointing.

do me a solid and just reblog this saying what time it is where you are and what you’re thinking about in the tags.

I love that phenomenon where ur talking to another neurodivergent person for the first time and u haven’t quite grocked their flavor of brain yet and they haven’t grocked yours and you’re both using your Acceptable Friendly Person Getting To Know You Script on each other but of course those scripts have been calibrated mainly for use with, like, normal people, so you just end up being like two conversational roombas bonking gently off one another like “hello fellow human” “hello fellow ‘hello fellow human’” until you both at some point manage to adjust your programming and actually like, communicate

It’s like when I was a kid I had two furbies and when you put them next to each other they’d just natter nonsensically past one another for a bit and then at some point one would abruptly recognize the other with its furby sensor or w/e and it would shout “DANCE!” and the other one would flap its ears and reply “HEY, DANCE” and then, in perfect unison, they would begin to rock back and forth while chanting “doot doot doo doot doot doo”

It’s exactly like that. I love it. Crazy people are the best, we are super excellent, i love us, i love crazy ppl

— requested by manbunjon

Wenclair prompts

Wednesday is a witch, Enid is a werewolf who can't shift. Wednesday can help in exchange for Enid's first born. Enid accepts, but there seems to have been a fundamental misunderstanding because Enid keeps asking her when they're going to start their family, and saying they really ought to consider dating first so they can plan a wedding that works for them both.

Enid keeps telling outlandish stories about her (probably nonexistant) wife, and her coworkers have had enough. No human being could be so bizarre as she's describing, right? Gotta be fake, and really Enid? Pretty pathetic.

Then the ones who made fun of Enid the most, the ones who dimmed the radiance of her sun's smile, wake up with a bag over their head, tied to chairs in a remote location. The wife is real, the stories were real, and they are going to be lucky of they aren't fed their own organs in the end.

Wednesday: *is being arrested*

Enid: Wow. God forbid women do anything these days.

Sheriff Galpin: Kid your friend-

Wednesday: She’s my girlfriend you intolerant shit.

Thing: H-O-M-O-P-H-O-B-E

Sheriff Galpin: I’m not- whatever, your girlfriend just landed four grown men in the hospital.

Enid: And… She looked good doing it.

Wednesday: They deserved it. One of them told me to smile.

Enid: You tell him baby.

Sheriff Galpin: You know what? I can’t with… whatever this is. She’s free to go and officially your problem.

Enid: Yay!

Wednesday: *pausing mid-escape and casually handing the sheriff broken handcuffs* Miserable-night Sheriff.

Sheriff Galpin: *whispering* I hate you.

Wednesday: *also whispering* I’m glad.

Enid: Hurry up babycakes, I need my cuddle buddy.

Wednesday: *smirking* Coming Amore.

i see your “body swap au where Enid dresses up in all her colourful clothes as Wednesday” and I respect it

but what if, hear me out, Enid experiences colour the way Wednesday does?

it hurts her eyes to look at her own side of the room. she gets migraines walking through all the bright shops in Jericho. and when her arm brushes against Wednesday’s, it feels as though he skin is being seared off.

Wednesday, for her part sees no need to change out of Enid’s colourful clothing, in fact, it’s kind of nice to be able to wear something of Enid’s without taking antihistamines.

when Enid mentions that it feels as though she has just pressed against silver, Wednesday opens a chest stocked full of Epipens and allergy tablets. Shoves a few of each into Enid’s hands and gets back to the task at hand.

Enid is left to realise that Wednesday was not kidding, even a little bit, about being allergic to colour.

“you were brave. you were strong. you were good. you mattered.”

Good morning! I’m salty.

I think we, as a general community, need to start taking this little moment more seriously.

This, right here? This is asking for consent. It’s a legal necessity, yes, but it is also you, the reader, actively consenting to see adult content; and in doing so, saying that you are of an age to see it, and that you’re emotionally capable of handling it.

You find the content you find behind this warning disgusting, horrifying, upsetting, triggering? You consented. You said you could handle it, and you were able to back out at any time. You take responsibility for yourself when you click through this, and so long as the creator used warnings and tags correctly, you bear full responsibility for its impact on you.

“Children are going to lie about their age” is probably true, but that’s the problem of them and the people who are responsible for them, not the people that they lie to.

If you’re not prepared to see adult content, created by and for adults, don’t fucking click through this. And if you do, for all that’s holy, don’t blame anyone else for it.

i walk into starbucks and order a pumpkin spice latte with 13 shots of espresso. i tell the barista that i intend to transcend humanity and become a god. i ask for no whip cream