the thing is, somebody cares. i know your best friend seems really busy all the time and is shit at texting but she still loves you and she talks to you more than she talks to anyone else and you’re the only breath of calm she has on this planet. the boy in your science class loves seeing what music you’re listening to on your headphones - he has the same taste and wishes he had the nerve to ask you about it. your english teacher loves the insight you have on your papers. somebody cares. the person who lives down the street from you notices when you are sick because they don’t see you stomping your way to the schoolbus - it’s how they know it’s time to get their breakfast ready. somebody is looking for you at the party, even if they don’t know they’re really looking for you - but when you don’t show up, some part of them is disappointed. somebody is looking for you in the library, in the spot where you eat lunch, in front of that one step you always seem to trip on. i know your parents are a complicated mess and there’s drama between your friends and your love life is sort of shaped like a constant question and everybody seems all caught up in their own lives and their own happiness and nobody really notices: but somebody always does. every face in your dreams is someone you have met, and that means that you are in a million’s stranger’s heads. they see you when they go to bed. and somebody cares. somebody still thinks about you even though you were just a person with a nice outfit or good eyeliner or a great smile or because you were having one of those moments that are so charmingly human in nature or because they regret not asking if you needed help when you fell or because they wonder what you were thinking about or drawing or writing or just because you’re alive, and that makes you fascinating. somebody cares. when you were on break from work and saw a dog hanging his head out of the car and suddenly broke into a smile: there was a girl in the back of that car, and I was her, and I still think about you, and i hope you get more chances to smile like that. and there is you, sitting here reading this, and by some small extension, meeting me, and i am telling you, I care. somebody always does. i promise. i promise. you are loved.
I bet if a mushroom could lap water out of your hand with a tongue that a gently drinking mushroom tongue on your hand would be the softest and gentlest thing.
Meowrpheus :3
I wonder how the Six Eyes and the Star Plasma Vessel appeared on the day of the merging, if they were already killed by Kenjaku?🤔Could it be that immediately after their death, their abilities manifested themselves in other people?
oh my god these cats gay. good for them! good for them
ID under the cut!
Continua a leggere
in canon kevin calls neil a child like, very casually and kind of condescendingly but let’s revamp it. it’s just his nickname for neil now.
and bc the foxes are who they are neil becomes Kevin’s Day’s child.
neil: [scores twice in 10 mins]
nicky, hollering at the top of his lungs: there goes kevin’s pride and joy!
when neil starts shit w/ the press he’s the problem child. kevin checks in literally every day when he graduates and neil’s like “??? you’re not my actual dad????? you do know that right? it’s important to me that you know that”
their relationship is more exasperated big brother vs little brother with zero self preservation but Neil is absolutely “kid” “kiddo” “child” to kevin and that’s just facts.
“I like this place
and could willingly waste my time in it.”
—William Shakespeare
promise is a poem by me. thank you if you read it ✩
transcript:
Keep reading
Hero Rats
Art Prints
Wallflower Ghost on Etsy
the clock: hits 2 am
gays logging onto tumglr to post abt tenderness tenderness yearning hands fingertips touching the insides of wrists the soft skin on the inside of a lover’s left elbow: