#queue remember

[ladyrunestone]

I don't mean to be arrogant but I believe I captured her essence perfectly

[pemizart]

Time to be delusional.. SELF INSERT!! 🗣️🗣️🗣️

[echobsilly]

think twice, cut once ✂️

[hatsbuckets]

He does NOT like to talk about it.

The weeks—months—spent between pain meds and recovery after he came back from the dead.

Barely lucid for the first few weeks, and a hollowed-out man after he finally switched to lower-dose pain meds.

He remembers when they told him he was “lucky to be alive.”

Except Simon Riley has never been lucky.

Luck would’ve given him a home. Luck would’ve given him a father. Luck would’ve given him a face that doesn’t remind him every damn day of the man he loathes. Luck wouldn’t have had him crawling out of his own fucking grave and dragging himself back to life.

Luck would’ve been fantasy.

Simon Riley does not live in a fantasy.

He lives in a body that barely made it back. Knife wounds down his ribs, healing jagged. A shattered radius. Dislocated shoulder. Crushed digits. Stitches up his thigh. Two cracked vertebrae. An eye that still doesn’t always focus right in fluorescent light.

The worst part? The ache in his jaw. Not from injury—though there was that too—but from grinding his teeth night after night, just to keep the screams in.

Price had visited. Simon was never sure if it was real, or if the drugs were still puppeteering his grief into hallucination. He remembers a warm hand on his shoulder. That was real.

He remembers not crying. Only because he’d already run dry.

The anger came later. When the fog lifted. When the pain stopped being an abstract thing and started screaming in every nerve. When he realized he couldn’t tie his boots.

Couldn’t hold a fork.

Couldn’t even sign the discharge forms without his hand seizing up.

He nearly threw a chair at the wall when his pen slipped again. The physical therapist just handed him another sheet of paper. Told him to try again.

Like it was that fucking simple.

But he did. Again and again. Because the fury needed somewhere to go.

And repetition was safer than silence. His body healed, but his hands were the worst.

He started tracing letters. First his name. Then lines from books. Then nothing at all—just letters, shapes, lines.

Somewhere along the way, it got… good. Neat. Sharp. Clean block print, easy to read. And if he really focused, if he took his time—

It became beautiful.

A steady hand in ink. A small act of control in a world that had stolen everything else.

Simon Riley doesn’t like to talk about what it took to come back. He doesn’t talk about the way rage nearly drowned him. Or the way he still checks every lock twice. Or how he sometimes wakes up clutching at fingers that no longer hurt, just to make sure they’re still there.

But the handwriting stays.

On gear manifests. On margin notes. Initials. Coordinates.

Sometimes letters.

He’d written them to Price as practice, as part of the therapy—physical and mental, he now realizes.

He still writes them today. Habitual. Short notes, mostly.

Mostly—always—to Price.

But eventually he slides one under Johnny’s door. He couldn’t tell you what he wrote. Doesn’t remember. Something gentler than he'd have ever said out loud at the time, probably.

And soon after, Kyle gets them too. Appreciation. Praise. Anything Simon can give, even if he might never speak the words into the air.

There exists a note to his family—to his mum and Tommy. It sits at the bottom of his desk drawer, forever sealed.

He does NOT like to talk about it. Those months spent in agony.

He probably won’t ever talk about them now.

But maybe he’ll write something.

a/n: I just think he would have pretty handwriting and I could write a whole essay on why. like wdym this tortured man wouldn't come back and find that this is something he has the max amount of control over (other than when he realizes how much control he has over himself (see: non-existent essay on Simon having the MOST control over himself out of the 141 because discipline, trauma, and dog-motif.)) started at this headcanon post if you care

[lucy--chen]

EDDIE "SASSY HANDS" DIAZ

[fatalism-and-villainy]

Something that really gets me about Benjamin Sisko is the way he’s just carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders at all times. He takes a backwater assignment that promises to be little more than a series of tedious bureaucratic maneuvers and instead ends up commanding the most strategically important station in a major intra-galactic war - and feels an immense amount of personal responsibility for the countless lives lost in battle, as seen in In the Pale Moonlight and The Siege of AR-558. He gets the role of religious figure thrust upon him and suddenly bears the responsibility of foresight and spiritual quests and shaping the future of an entire people who were initially foreign to him.

And he’s so often pulled out of linear time, and burdened with the knowledge and responsibilities of that untimeliness. When he gets trapped in the 21st century, ensuring the entire existence of the Federation - the institution that shaped him and gave him the values he holds dear - rests on his shoulders. In his vision in Far Beyond the Stars, he’s yanked through the fourth wall itself and learns firsthand the symbolic heft that his position as a Black captain on a space station holds, and resolves to continue fighting for the future to fulfill the dreams of Earth’s past. A past that is still, somehow, concurrent or parallel to his own. He gets taken out of sync with linear time and watches his son grow up without him and never be able to move on, and ultimately sacrifice himself to bring him back, and he can never tell Jake about it. Even the depth of his son’s love becomes yet another burden of knowledge for him to carry.

All of that and he is still a man. He is a man who is given the gift of insight that is far beyond what he was previously capable of imagining. He is timeless but he is still a linear being who is denied the rewards of linearity. He saved Bajor but not for himself. I just have a lot of feelings about it!

[thingstrumperssay]

This guy got detained over his skin color thanks to Trump (who he voted for) and he's only "reconsidering" his vote.

Trump himself could directly lead his followers to the electric chair and they'll still be like "Hm... I'm starting to maybe regret voting for you just a little bit."

I'm starting to feel really sad for these people. And by "sad" I mean in an embarrassed kinda way.

[katebeckets]

how to say "I love you" in x-files [179/?] ⤷ 3.15 — “Piper Maru”

[crescentfool]

it's that time of year again...

[themoon-andtosaturn]

madrid n2

[ruporas]

… and it all came flowing to his brain, three years of his youth. (ID in alt)

[thedeafprophet]

so many ship ask games just don't work for my complex toxic ships. there was no first date or cuddling positions, ask me instead about how often stalking occurs or if they'd watch the other sleep

[khairosclerosis]

🐴 the coolest defense in the west.

[dragonnarrative-writes]

Something something going over to the huge guy who keeps to himself at the back of the bar. Offering to buy his drink if he lets you talk at him for a while, just long enough for the obnoxious guy who's been harassing you to leave you alone. Not knowing what to talk about, so you just recount the plot of the last romance novel you read (you barely remember it beyond the parts you didn't like). Big guy ("'m Simon.") insists that you finish telling the story, even though whatshisfuck has left the bar by now.

When you finally finish telling him about the lighthouse, he smiles down at you. "tha's minging. Tell me another."

[disgustinggf]

sending me death threats is weird because you're just making me horny. Come over

[14dayswithyou]

a few months ago you talked about playing mouthwashing and I was curious if you had any head-cannons for the characters if they got sent to that universe

pls tell ren he's adorable and he owes me 19 dollars

⌞♥⌝ They would be friends I think :3