#(still terrrified of it happening)

[harleythealter]

If my face ever had to be reconstructed…. I’d look in the mirror and be like. WTF. I don’t remember I looked like that-wait I don’t remember what I used to look like. *insert minor crisis* two months later I look in the mirror and be like. Mmmm looks as strangerish as ever.

Because I don’t remember what I look like on a regular basis

[unabashednightmarepizza]

A/N: Okay I have been playing Genshin for quite some time now, and I'm sure my eyes are hurting like a bitch, but this is a quick idea( and also a short story of a series I'm writing) since I have been reading SAGAU and Creator!Reader works a lot!

Everyone thought, just like Creator!Reader did who played Genshin for hours and built the characters, that Mondstadt would be home. With the jolly people and freedom coursing through the air, and with Venti being the Spirit of Freedom, everyone would listen at least. You were just as terrrified yet also happy and confused as anyone could be, surely they wouldn't execute you, right?

Wrong, so painfully wrong.

Instead Creator!Reader was hunted down blindlessly, who only entered the city with a big smile but left it as soon as possible with a horrified look.

But instead... Razor and Bennett found the Creator!Reader, shivering in the cold with- Was that golden blood?

Razor, since he was raised by wolves, didn't have an exact understanding of the Creator but he listened to his family talk about Them, how they thanked Them with their howls for the food and family and shelter given to them and how they praised the Golden Blood of yours to keep flowing through your very being so that one day, you would come back to Teyvat.

Therefore he knew who you were but Bennett?

Poor boy grew up with the stories of yours! How you created new worlds where there were many different creatures, magic and every kind of ores... Or how you gifted them with many new weaponary and such, how you gave them life and what they have built so far.

How you let them live in peace through their Archon.

So, to see your body covered in Gold blood with a terrified look, their first reaction was to jump up and warm you immediately, patching up any wounds so that their Creator didn't suffer anymore.

But whatever the people must have done to you, had messed you up pretty bad because you, The Creator of All, whimpered in fear and pain, still shaking with your hands up defensively.

"P-Please don't hurt m-me... I swear I didn't mean t-to..."

So, that was how you were coddled up by these two babies while they wondered with rage coursing through them that who did this to you. They weren't stupid, since they were close to their City, they knew it was them and couldn't help but feel shame for their actions. Everyone had been expecting your arrival for quite some time, preparing feasts and what they would say to you in person and then they just...

Blinded by fake religion and ideas, tried to kill you.

How funny Teyvat was more like Earth than you ever imagined?

And they didn't even want to know what would have happened to Teyvat, how angry the Winds and the ground would be at the people for killing the Divine One.

You were still aprehensive as normal, not used to the kindness they were showing you but watching as Razor bring you a very pretty shaped stone with a happy grin and offered it as a token of friendship, you couldn't bring yourself to break his heart as one of the many wolves in his family laid around you protectively.

You asked why he was doing this, when he had no understanding of who you were, when his people were hunting you, but the only answer you got was a confused tilt of his head and a soft spoken,

"You are my lupical and I want you to be happy... They are not my people, they were wrong."

Now Bennett didn't know if he should correct Razor since he was actually talking to their Creator, warn him about not to refer to you so casually, but the big and wide smile on your face as you hugged them thightly to yourself with tears in your eyes which held the stars warmed them both so affectionately and lovingly that they knew you needed this.

You needed to have friends, not worshippers.

And as they, alongside with the Traveller, Klee, Albedo( who was glad he was pulled here by Klee and help you) and Amber who was convinced of who you were by the wounds you had and how you literally breathed life into one of the many burned and ruined forest and was horrified at learning what the Mondstadt did, healed you back and helped you hide, that was when you realized that you did a good job by loving those four and building them up as much as possible.

But those traits weren't the only ones who convinced them. It was how you saw Amber's ambition and praised her for having such a strong dedication to her job to which she bashfully thanked you and cried softly because how kind and generous you were to them even when your life was in danger.

And you didn't forget to tell Lumine to let others deal with commissions and errands, to give herself a rest, with a huge amount of Mora you really didn't know where you got from but was just inside your pouch ( since I chose her and believe the Twins need to hear this) and also about what was going on with her brother and promised to explain more in depth after you were safe to which she held your hand in her warm and calloused ones softly and answered with don't worry about us, Your Grace. Just focus on your life and that's all the gift that you can give to me.

But as much as they loved to have you here and listen to your world and jokes, they also knew you couldn't stay here for much longer. Yes, the forest was big ( and the nature seemed to be hellbent on protecting you) but they knew the Knights wouldn't stop until they got you.

What a surprise that the Crux came to the City, with a frantic Kazuha searching everywhere in the dock for what the Wind whispered to him.

"Our Creator needs help. Help them. Save them."

And that was how you started to wander the streets of Liyue with Kazuha next to you, also hellbent on protecting you especially after seeing the state you were in. The City was literally glowing, and no it wasn't because of the lanterns but you, The Divine Creator who stepped in the City which was raised and built in your name.

He knew there was a famous pharmacy named Bubu Pharmacy and the owner of it was able to heal pretty much every kind of this disease, so he took you there in hopes that the fever you had been suffering from could be solved there.

And it was.

Baizhu, as the usual self-sacrificing man he was, did everything in his power to help you. You knew how his hands were already full with both his own disease and Qiqi who quickly grew on you since she has been playing with you and telling you all about what she learnt about the herbs and the City( she couldn't explain why but she just felt so close to you, as if you were like a parent to her which her caretaker also shared kind of the same love for you) and you were grateful for what they had done to you, how kind they were.

They had shown you the kindness you expected to have when you first arrived, and it wasn't given by other.

Not the most known ones, but the kindest of them all did.

So, as a token, you touched the hand of Baizhu softly one day while he worked to pack you herbs and medicine you might need, stopping him and asking him why he was doing this when he casually( though his heart was beating hard at having you touch hım so softly) replied with a I'm a doctor and you needed help.

You looked at him for some time, then a smile so bright that it made the doctor take a while to stare at you softly overtook your face and you replied You're so strong for carrying such a burden like your disease but still help people, Baizhu.

That was when his suspicions about who you were was proven, since he never told about his disease to anyone (after realizing the golden wounds and how he seemed healthier in your presence) and he immediately went to kneel but was stopped by your gentle hands on his face, rubbing soft circles under his tired yet wide open in shock eyes, his heart almost giving out when your lips touched his forehead softly and blessed hım with your warmth.

Never bow to me, thank you for all you had done for me... Now, let me pay back.

After healing him back and yet once again running away from Liyue so that you weren't hunted down, making the Crux the enemy to Liyue since they were helping you (not that they cared, they loved being pampered by the True God with love, luck and food), a certain sea monster and the eartqueaks of Liyue almost destroyed the whole City for their disrespect so much so that Zhongli had to come back as Rex Lapis and he wasn't even able to stop it until the Wind carried your soft words to Liyue and Osial and made them stop.

Don't punish and destroy them, they don't deserve it...

-- A similar situation happened back in Mondstadt when Dvalin caused chaos after learning what they had done to Divine Creator, roasting the shit out of Venti for his mistake but also was stopped by your gentle caress even from Miles away, to stop hım from harming them. He gave them their lesson anyways, he only needed to find you to protect you as he left the people of Mondstadt in Terror and fear for what they had done.

The "they" in question was obviously the Crux, Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling and Shenhe who showed their love and care for you, who was logical enough to listen to you and see the truth for themselves. Xiangling who made you many delicious food you never ate before, Shenhe who was comforted by you about how she wasn't a cursed child and was loved dearly by everyone and most importantly you as she cried into your chest, who believed in her purpose to fit in with humans even with her tendencies, which you found to be a beautiful part of her...( not me reflecting my Shenhe love here ehe ｡⁠◕⁠‿⁠◕⁠｡)

Asking "why are you doing this?" had become some kind of a test, like those in fairytales in your world, to see who was kind and sincere and who wasn't.

And you used it in many nations: Inazuma, Sumeru, Fontaine...

Inazuma was, of course, the WORST so far since Ei was obsessed with Eternity and the Creator, not even listening at all. But even if she didn't, the Kamisato siblings, Kokomi, Gorou, and Thoma believed in you from the very beginning, with many others soon following after them.

Ayaka and Kokomi were the first ones, with Ayaka seeing the sadness in your eyes at how restricted you were, how no one seemed to believe in you and how Inazuma seemed calmer and more happy as soon as you arrived( and how you reassured her to be herself and not live according to what people would say which made her love you and convince her brother to listen, who was glad she did if not... Well, he didn't want to imagine it.) and Kokomi hearing the whispers of the ocean who was the happiest, who cheered for you and didn't stop chanting your name, which lead her to see it for herself and welcome you to Watatsumi Island as the God she worshipped. Who was also praised by you for her smartness and how she worked hard for the Island even if her career plan wasn't this, but was warned to not to overwork which she blushed at and assured Creator!Reader.

Not surprisingly enough, Sumeru was the kindest to you since Nahida knew who you were even before coming to her nation and greeted you herself excitedly, showing you around as her people( Yes, even Tighnari and Al-Haitham who was known to be stern) smiled and offered you a new home.

Fontaine was probably the happiest you had been, after Sumeru, to stay. Furina, as much as she didn't believe in herself, saw right through you and knew who you were, providing you with utmost care and protection ever alonsgide Neuvillette who always hang around you, protected you and even became your friend! Maybe it was the dragon instincts in him, once the closest to you like Zhongli but also one who wasn't blinded like him, as he stayed with you when your fears and nightmares became too much to bear.

Who knew, maybe something more would happen?

And after all the nations realized their mistake, after you defeated Celestia and came to a peace with It, and restored Khaenri'ah who always believed in you from the beginning even years ago, they feared the punishment waiting for them. They didn't want to accept their mistake, blame Celestia for all of it... But they also knew they were blinded by hard and unlogical belief and almost did the most unforgivable sin ever.

They were ready for any punishment from you, even if it included never seeing you again...

But the only answer to their question was a letter written by you, which made them shiver.

The only reason none of the nations who wronged me are not punished severely was because of the names listed below. Shall any harm come to them, your nation would see the true wrath of the Creator.

Thank you to Razor, Bennet, Amber, Klee, Albedo and dear Traveller from Mondstadt.

Thank you to Baizhu, Qiqi, Xiangling, Shenhe, the Crux, Beidou and Kazuha from Liyue

Thank you to Kamisato Ayato and Kamisato Ayaka, Thoma, Gorou, Kokomi from Inazuma.

Thank you to Sumeru, Khaenri'ah, Fontaine and Natlan people for their never ending kindness and belief.

Eternal gratitude and blessings from the Creator, who you helped to gain confidence and power...

[paragonrobits]

Simon as Scarab shows up to kill them all: Mother crud! Fionna: Really?? A terrrifying monster god thing is coming to kill us and THAT'S what you say when you're scared??? Simon: WELL I'M SORRY IF MY SWEARING ISN'T COARSE ENOUGH FOR YOU. I'm still mentally in the space of being a fallout dad! Adjustment is hard! Fionna: Whoa, wait, you were raising a kid in the middle of the apocalypse? Like that kind of fallout dad?? Simon: yeah, why? Fionna: Hm. Now I feel bad about explaining scavenging to you. Scarab: WILL YOU PEOPLE PLEASE STOP IGNORING ME AND BE PROPERLY TERRIFIED YOU LAYABOUTS Fionna: Sorry, pal! Around here there is a very specific order of events. First we get distracted by semanatics and argue about it all day. THEN maybe we can be bothered to focus on whatever bullcrap you got going on. Jay in the background: She's right, you know! Farmworld Finn: All the time. Scarab: Hold on, there are children present. Why aren't YOU scolding your alternate self into not saying such vile curses? Finn: She's an adult, I'm not about to tell her off. My kids hear worse whenever I stub my toe. Jay: Yeah we're just not allowed to SAY anything dad says. He doesn't punish us or anything, but he gives us a really serious look that wounds our souls. Cake: Well I guess this is a sneak peek at what'll happen if you get around to making kids too. Fionna: Pfft. Who'd put up with me that long? Simon: Hmph, don't sell yourself short. Cake: There's that Hunter guy that was giving you saucy looks, maybe even this old dude we're lugging around now, he gives me the vibe that if you carried him off he'd swoon and we'rve already established he's dad material. Fionna: Hold on what now? Simon: She's right you know. Scarab: Ah, I see we're still on the POINTLESS SEMANTICS PART OF THINGS, NOW SHUT UP AND BE MORITIFED WILL YOU? Cake: NEVER

[cherryjuicegf]

the way it ends

for @geraskeferbingo prompt: too good to be true || geraskefer, pov jaskier, 1.5k, T, angst, hallucinations, implied/referenced torture

ao3

When Jaskier wakes, a faint light seeps inside the room from the corridor.

He squints as it reaches his eyes, blinds him. He doesn't remember how long it has been since he last saw light, since he last had the barest hint of hope blooming inside him. Probably long enough, if he thought about the aching of his heart. Probably too long.

There are two figures standing on the door. Insinctively, he recoils. He has grown used to it, it's always two figures, one to carry him and one to strike down if he dares to resist. As if he has any chance resisting. As if he hasn't accepted that he wouldn't get out of this place alive. He laughs to himself as the figures continue standing there. He has played with death, countless times, and he has lost. He has nothing to wait for now. No rescue, no miracle, no ray of light. Only the final blow.

And yet, the light doesn't fade.

The figures approach, and it's not an armor they're wearing, at least not the one he expects. No, there's something gentle in their form, something painfully familiar and he lets out a breath and curls to himself more, afraid, afraid to hope, afraid to believe. They had played with his mind so many times, this can't be different. This can't be real.

He is afraid to believe, to hope, he.

He knows, if he does, if he's proved wrong, he won't be able to bear it. There's already a suffocating weight on his chest, like someone stepping on him and never going away. If he's proved wrong, the weight will suffocate him, push him down, harder still. And he has barely any breaths to spare.

And yet, and yet.

Achingly familiar. The silhouettes, the wild curls, the imposing posture. The scent, lilac, gooseberries, and he thinks he will faint. And that sweet, rough, whispering voice that reaches his ears. "Jaskier."

It can't be. It can't be a dream. It's too real, too bright. He's too weak to hold back, even if succumbing will end him. So he lets out a gasp, and sits up, and cries, not in the way he does when they hit him, break him, and throw him in the corner, but in the way he did, once, moments before he fell into the arms of his lovers. "Geralt!"

And then, oh, then. Then strong arms are around him, and violet eyes are piercing him, and he's too lost to realize and they're too drenched in light for him to see them properly, but he knows, by the way he fits into Geralt's arms, by the way a sharp, honey dripping voice says, "It's alright, Jaskier," and Yennefer looks at him like it's the most natural thing in the world, coming for him, loving him.

And he clings, and sobs and shakes, this can't be a dream, this can't be a dream, too good, too desperate to be a dream. "I missed you," he says between sobs and chokes and Geralt smiles at him. He closes his eyes, feels Yennefer's hands on him searching, finding, the hurt, the wounds, and even though she searches there are wounds that are still bleeding open and will not close, not ever. His own hope is a wound, his love and longing, and the stabs that their eyes mark on his skin, these are wounds too. And yet, oh how sweet is their blood, how welcomed their bleeding.

Yennefer searches, and heals, and yet he feels no pain, not anymore. And if he was able to think, if he was able to see past the white veil that covers them both as though refusing to render his hope requited, he would know, it can't be. It can't be that he, half-dead, stumbling precariously on the land of the living, feels no pain, absurdly healed, as though by his own relief, by his own hesitant joy.

He's tired of being hesitant, being afraid. He's tired of leaving evrything behind, leving his own self behind in order to go through whatever this torture would bring forth next time. Exhausted. There, into their arms, drowning in the sea of their eyes, murmuring the song of their voices, there he knows he can rest.

He hears his own mind laughing at him.

"You're here," he whispers and this voice that hadn't come out in speech but screams all this time, now feels foreign on his tongue. Should his voice feel foreign? Geralt smiles again, smiles too much, too wide. "You came."

Yennefer's eyes glint, too bright, too big. "Of course we came for you," and her voice rings in his ears, makes him wince and, again, he recoils. Why, why, why. Yennefer tilts her head and suddenly, her voice sounds distant, cold. "Did you think we'd leave you alone?"

Alone.

Jaskier's mind is twirling. Alone, alone, alone.

Yennefer's eyes are glowing now, and Geralt is laughing and his hands are holding him too tight, suffocating and he can't breathe and they fade, the light brighter and brighter and that veil, oh, covering them still, and they look at him and laugh and laugh and laugh and he screams.

He hears a voice and he knows that voice, he knows it's not Geralt or Yennefer's, it's the voice of that mage, the one he had seen the few times his eyes were open. And yet it comes out of Geralt's mouth, outworldy, terrrifying. "You're alone, Jaskier. No one is coming for you."

He weeps and cries and pleads, "No, no, no, please, come back," and he runs and stumbles and crawls into the light and yet still drowning into the darkness, the one that pulls him back, sucks him to the bottom, "NO, don't leave me, I didn't say anything, please, I love you, please," and the figures are on the door again, drenched in light, laughing and he drowns and chokes and slips into the void, that same voice wailing into his ears, no one is coming, alone, alone, no one, you're alone, you're alone, alone, alone, alone.

And then, falling in agony, he screams one last time, and sinks into darkness.

When Jaskier woke, the room was dark.

He opened his eyes but he didn't need to squint, for there was no light. Only the bricks, and the despair, and that glooming pain that towered over him, invaded his body, his mind, made him shake and tremble.

He looked around the room as though he didn't know where he was, as though he could ever forget. He couldn't. Even after death, he knew, he would remember, for death was the only certain ending for him in this place. For the barest of seconds, he deemed the irony poetic. He would remember his torture, but the faces of his lovers were already blurry in his mind, covered by this light and this veil that never let him get close to them. He had. He had felt them. He had heard them. They had come for him, of course they would. That's what Yennefer said.

But now he was alone.

And as the realization settled in his mind, he whimpered and wrapped his arms around himself, broken fingers clawing on tattered shirt. No one would come. The wall was cold and damp behind him. A dream, a dream, everything, a dream once more. He gasped, tears welling in his eyes, and fell, crawled, until he reached the corner. There, between two walls, he could at least pretend someone was holding him. If he closed his eyes hard enough.

He shouldn't cry. He had no reason to, he knew this would happen. And water wasn't spare at the moment.

He should've known. Too good, too desperate to be true.

He shouldn't cry. And yet, defeated, drained, devoured by his own hope, he rested his head on the wall, pulled his knees to his chest, and closed his eyes. And let his tears fall. Let the sobs wrack his body, even though the barest move sent a wave of pain through him, made him numb.

Alone. No one would come. He couldn't blame them, they couldn't have known. He wasn't angry. He would die. He thought, dehydration would make for a quicker death. He thought he had to cry more. He knew he would die, he wanted to, for this suffering to end.

But, oh, what he wouldn't give to die in the arms of his loved ones.

He would give his life. It's all he had left anyway.

The door of the cell opened with a bang and two figues stood tall, but he didn't jump. He was used to it. Instead, as if by instinct, he recoiled. Hid his head inside his knees, and waited. He had found a game, to deceive himself. The hands that would grip him and send him on the ground writhing, he would pretend they were Geralt's. The voice that would lull him to nightmares and illusions, he would pretend it was Yennefer's.

The pain was sweeter then, he had discovered. And how sweet, how morbid, to endure the pain for one's love. At least then, he remembered he loved them.

At least then, he wasn't alone.

[fangirltothefullest]

I'm sorry to ask you of this, but I'm really interested in your SCP au, but I cant read so much text like that, it's just hard for me- do you have anywhere that has shorter bios or summaries or anything? I'm sorry, you don't have to make any, I was just wondering if you've got any that are prexisting.

I don't have any summaries (until now) but this gives me an excuse to explain a few things not in the actual files! So basically:

Warning: The SCP AU is VERY DARK. Rape mention. Also murder mention

Patton is an SCP (google scp foundation) and basically his power is that anything he cooks turns into a sentient cake. This cake usually acts like a dog until it decays and then Patton can make it again.

The foundation doesnt hasn't figured it out yet, but the cake kills people who have raped another person and got away with it, and Patton senses the fear from the victim which scares him and prompts the cake to act and protect him.

It will attack anyone causing him harm but it will only kill rapists. Most people are safe from the cake, but the day the foundation brought Patton in, it was because his cake suddenly killed his boyfriend and Patton felt absolutely betrayed because it meant that happened recently.

Logan is an SCP whose eyes are nebulas that go on indefinitely. Basically if Logan has direct eye contact with a person, he unintentionally takes their most important memory which wipes it from the mind of the victim. His mind is able to hold and quickly recall any data it absorbs. He will take the most important memories until all memories are gone and the victim is effectively braindead.

However, if he is distressed, the memories can surface as multiple personalities. These personalities include his parents, childhood doctor, a few best friends, SCP foundation doctors and personnel, and the Child.

The Child doesn't have the nebula eyes and represents Logan as a toddler before his powers developed. However, somehow even without his powers, the Child always knows when he's being filmed- this is because the Child is telepathic and telekenetic.

During Incident Hexa, the Child found out the foundation wanted to use him as a database. They found a way to permanently sedate him without killing him and they wanted to to put wires and things into him and make him into a computer. Of course the Child was terrrified and he telepathically called out for help. Patton heard and his cake broke containment with more power than he's ever shown and went on a murder spree to try and protect the Child.

Ultimately the foundation still managed to contain both.

Dr. Thomas Sanders, however, saves all of them (including Roman, Remus, Dee and Virgil). But more on all of them and Thomas later, because Thomas is special.

[ashariajade]

So, I’m having a bad week my mom’s having shitty week, and my dad is having a week from hell.

For the last couple of weeks whenever my dad sniffed he could taste something coppery, like blood.  i told him it was probably a sinus infection (since I had that happen to me before) and to go the the doctor.  Last weekend he finally when, doctor said, yep, sinus infection and gave him some stuff for it. 

Sunday night he had a bad headache.  Now, my dad normally doesn’t say much when he’s in pain, but he did then.  Still, he just took some advil, took the stuff the doctor gave him and went to bed earlier.  But the meds didn’t help and around 3-4 am he and my mom got up and went to the emergency room.

Now, I didn’t know this.  They both work earlier than me. So I get up and get ready for work and then get a text from my mom just before I leave letting my know that she’s got my dad at the ER.  Cue me being worried as fuck.  The last time he was there was because his heartrate was doing funky shit that they never figured out.

So I go to work with a bit of worry in the back of my head, but thinking it might just be a migraine since my dad does have blood pressure problems.  Then a few hours later I get another text from my mom that floors me.

My dad has mass, a tumor on his pituitary gland.  While I am no doctor, I do work in a doctor’s office and I’m not an idiot.  That’s not a good thing.  Between dealing with patients I seached as much as I could about it and how they deal with it, and of course gave myself all the ideas of the worse case scenerios because that’s my brain. 

According to the neurosurgeon, the tumor is massive and resting on the optic nerve. My dad does have a sinus infection.  The infection is actually what let us know about the tumor, it made his sinus cavity press against the tumor which is causing the pain (and it’s a lot of pain that morphine, the a double dose of morphine, and then a dose of Dilaudid only dulled). If that hadn’t happened we probably only would have found out if the tumor effected his optic nerve (which it would have according to the neurosugeon).  Also, while there is one neuosurgeon on his case, there is two others consulting on it, an endocrinologist, a ENT, cardiologist, and a few others. He’s got a shitload of doctors on his case right now.  Which is terrrifying and reassuring at the same time.

He goes is for surgery on Monday afternoon.  His main neurogsurgeon wants it done despite the infection (and the bleeding he has/had somewhere).  We’ve already been told that it’s not a rare surgery, the NS does them 3-4 times per month and normally the patient would go home after a couple of days but with my dad he’ll be keeping him a little longer.  And that actually works since that should put him home the week of the 16th which I am off for (March Break for Ontario schools in my area and my bosses are going on vaca) so we don’t have to worry about him being home alone or having to have someone come in (though one of my cousins offer, love ya A!). 

So yeah.  I’ve spent the last week worrying my ass off and trying to keep my mother going since she’s been trying to keep everything together and getting paperwork done (doc notes for work etc).  My mom have been running around like a chicken with it’s head cut off geting paperwork, making phone calls, (aruging with our building manager over parking). And my dad’s have a shit ass week (when he was aware enough, drugs and pain made him very vacant, it was scary seeing him like that).

On a somewhat funny, if painful note: I fell out of bed last night.  I’m not exactly sure how it happened with how I lay on my bed, but one minute I was laying there then I rolled over slightly and I was on the floor. I landed leaning to the right with my legs kind of underneath me and using my right hand to break my fall, so now my legs, and right hip, and right hand all hurt so much and my lower back and shoulders ache from being jarred.  I have hurt all day. I can barely walk.  And I still don’t know how it happened.  I lay diagonal on my bed with my feet pointed towards the wall, so if I was to fall off my bed I should have landed on my head or shoulders. 

I’m confused.

[judas-had-a-crown]

Sooo. Though 8th November is almost over where I am, it’s still ma birthday today. 24 years, folks. I’m old as heck. XD 

For the first time, I think, I felt the urge to write more than simply throw in a gif of a birthday cake, scream HEY GUESS WHAT B*TCHES and leave it at that. I blame the wine I’m drinking right now. For anyone interested, I’ll put it under the cut. Have a lovely day or evening as well, either way :)

I might also feel this urge due to the fact that, in contrast to the blog I kept before this one, I actually plan to stay here a little while longer, since I’m content with the design – if you haven’t noticed yet, I might have grown to be a huge lover of site codes and color palettes to tinker with. I mostly have my fandoms and tags in order, unbound to any label I have yet escaped any huge discourse to wound my own character and pairing conceptions, and I even somewhat brought my writerblr blog to life as well. Should I actually get my butt up and post content on the regular there, it waits for me to take action which is kinda nice.

So, 24 years now. Hm. Since twelve is (one of) my favourite number(s), the double of it seems very pretty to look at, actually. Or, at least, 24 is prettier than 23 in my opinion.

I think to remember how 24 should be an age where people have figured out at least some basic guidelines and pathways in their life, or so I was once told. Who told it, I don’t remember, and maybe I wasn’t told, but I read it in some forgotten corner of the internet, as I do most things. Some small, fickle article or a single sentence. Let’s be honest, the brain is a silly bugger for that alone.

Well, I still don’t know what to do with my life, or myself, or if I as a person actually turned out worse this year than before as a whole. And that’s really okay. I got a whole life ahead of me. Wouldn’t it be boring to know already where I end up?

Then there are other questions to consider, their origin all the more obscure so I don’t even try to trace them back to their source.

Have I actually grown personally since my last birthday? You see, whenever I think my mind has settled for a constant personality trait, things happen and my sense of self, my thoughts and decisions are thrown back into opposite directions, scatter like pebbles on a beach. Often enough I’m neither resistant nor am I stable in my assumptions or reactions – I just do things and then I don’t and I couldn’t tell you why. So I don’t grow, I scatter. And that’s fine with me. The only constant, at times, is my love for certain passions, animals and, sometimes, people (big wow, in that regard. Yes, I’m trying to be funny here, let me).

Are there memorable memories to toast to? Well, I can’t say I remember much of this year in outrageous detail, but I still hold my glass up. There are times when I don’t recall February or August to have ever happened, then again I feel like more has happened in 2019 than it has the year before and the year before that. But even I know that is a pile of rubbish that my forgetful mind either makes up to annoy or protect me because every year has its events, its ups and downs, its wuthering heights and breakdowns. I do remember some events, sure, rather bad, rather good and rather mediocre. Things have happened that gave me shapes I didn’t know I could possess, and I still don’t know if these shapes suit me or if I have to saw them off before New Year’s Eve chimes in. We will see, I guess. We don’t exactly have the chance not to.

Have I made more friends than enemies? I strongly believe I have, in fact, done quite the contrary. But honestly? Some people really mean to be shit so I’m humble enough to announce that I wasn’t always the first to cast the first stone, but often the one that walked away. It isn’t wrong to choose self-protection over hypocrisy.

I then remember new people I met, and people I once knew, met again by intention or coincidence. And sometimes, these re-meetings were either fine for a while, but not bound to last, or like a wave that washes both your bodies ashore and you have nothing else to do than lie beside each other in the sand, talk, freeze and be content with the company.

The people I have now are good people, I think, few but good, with my understanding of being good also being corrupted by the fact that I’m deeply fond of them, and love, as the saying goes, not only turns blind, but also deaf for any criticism mentioned. I take it as such that I love them in my own way – one of many since we all know romantic love is not the only one of value. And that they, graciously, opt to tolerate me. Which, however, doesn’t exclude the undeniable truth that I can be and still am being a huge bitch at times and sometimes they are too and we have to deal with it on each side of the mirror. Well. Where would be the fun found otherwise?

Do I regret having cut people out my life? I’ve come to a point where I say no and mean it. I love the people I love and at times I still feel strongly for those I don’t or simply can’t anymore due to reasons that hurt me or made me feel unsafe. When I’m sad - especially, when I’m sad - I have no choice but to love either way, I guess, even if the subject of said love is a song, a book, an actor or a video game. Remember, hate drains the blood from your veins and the color off your flesh in the long run, so don’t get stuck on it like a habit. Don’t let it become your only confidant. It smiles merely to show teeth.

Am I meant to have reached a certain stage now? Be a complete person ? I still feel like a work in progress and slowly lose the belief that I’ll ever be finished. And maybe, frankly, I shouldn’t be. Completed works lack the opportunity of change and evolving measurements. It’s like you put a painting into a frame and hang it on your wall to stare it down for the rest of your life. I don’t want to be caught in a frame of any conception or rule. The thought of never being able to crawl out of it, to melt the colors while people stare at me, saying „This is her. This is all she’ll be. We have figured her out now.“ outright terrrifies me. So instead of awaiting someone else’s defintition with fright, I choose to live without definition – ever wavering between what I have been, what I could have been, what I masquerade as now and what I might become one day. A caterpillar of sorts – and a spiky one at that. For the aesthetic only, of course.

24, and I know nothing. 24, and I haven’t found a role to settle in yet. 24, and that’s quite alright. 24 still is an age where you’re allowed to be lost and free in your uncertainty.

Actually, you’re allowed this at any age. Happy birthday. For more to come.

[protectingswift]

Dear Taylor,

Life never goes as planned, but maybe that’s what makes it exciting but it’s also what makes it hard and terrifying. I realized once I got to college that I never gave too much thought about actually moving out and going to college. I just did it, because everyone goes to college right after graduating high school because if you don’t they see you as a “failure.”

But once I got there, my anxiety & my depression got severely worse to the point where it was making me physically sick & I was miserable all the time. So after having one of the toughest months of my life, I came to the conclusion that it’s best for me to wait awhile before returning to school and take the semester off. It wasn’t an easy thing to decide because while I know I should do what’s healthiest and best for me in the moment, even if it’s not what everyone else is doing, I can’t help but feel like the odd one out or like I’m doing it all wrong which just gives me more anxiety.

I’m still in the process of withdrawing and moving back home. I’m going to find a full time job to support myself and still write and pursue my creative ideas on the side and (finally!!!) publish my poetry book, because that’s what ultimately makes me happy. I’m going to take the next few months to save up money and think about what my next step is. Figure out what’s best for me. I’m terrrified, mostly of letting people down or failing, but slightly excited to see what happens.

I know through it all you will be right there beside me, like you have been these past 10 years. You’re always the one constant and it’s nice to know I have you when it’s hard. I love you endlessly, Taylor. I hope you’re doing well. Sending hugs! 🌟☁️ @taylorswift

[pawsativityy]

Maverick my sweet baby boy who is 2.5 years old (and went through a fear period at a normal age) has decided recently, after not caring at all his entire life, that vacuums are terrrifying and he’s gonna fear pee every single time he sees or hears one.

I’m so confused!! Where did this come from!! We do live in an apartment building so it’s possible that something scary happened when we weren’t home and our neighbors were vacuuming? I just feel so bad about it because he’s obviously very scared but there’s so many animals in the house like. We have to still vacuum every other day. I’m away for school and my parents are asking me what they want me to do about it and other than trying to get him out of the house before vacuuming, I don’t know what to tell them.

[haikyuulovercompany]

Oh my lemme tell you about school today. In the last five minutes of school, the intruder alarm goes off and us, thinking it's a drill started making jokes, but the main office lady came over the speaker saying it wasn't a drill and that there were 2 armed men in the school. Luckily they were arrested and nobody was hurt but it was actually still terrifying, so yikes... How've you been? -Word anon (who's still using that name even though you technically know who I am)

What????????????????????????Holly mother fucking shit, HOW ARE YOU?? that’s the true question !!!!!! I can totally imagine that it was terrrifying in a whole bunch of different ways.

Thank goodness nothing happened!! (You’re still word anon to the public, so don’t worry !!)

[sleepyfan-blog]

ConHayth with 32 & 13 uwu

@balsaminaceae

Warnings: father/son incest, Modern AU, CEOxVet

fandom: Assassin’s Creed

Pairing: ConHayth

word count: 1,010

summary: Haytham and Connor are flying from New York to one of Haytham’s summer places in France, when the private plane that they’re in goes through a storm. Or: The moment Connor realized that he was in love with his father.

Everything was roaring and flashing all around them and Connor was covering his ears with his hands, and his eyes were squeezed shut as he was completely overwhelmed by everything that was going on. It was far too much all at once, and the young man flinched and shuddered as he slowly curled in on himself, sinking down to the ground . His chest was tight and his mind was still spinning painfully as Connor tried to calm himself down.

The world trembled all around him and it was terrrifying. There was a warm hand on one of his shoulders, and there was another hand wrapped firmly but gently pulling one of his hands away from his ears. Haytham’s voice spoke clearly and calmly into one of his ears, and the older man said “Connor, everything is going to be fine. Listen to my voice. Do you remember the breathing exercises that Dr. Monro taught you? Shake or nod your head, if you don’t feel up to, or can’t speak.”

Connor nodded shakily, relaxing just a little as he started to go through the breathing exercises that the psychologist had taught him when he was feeling this stressed. He started to relax, but when Haytham started to pull away, he could feel himself tense up a little, and a whimper of “Please… don’t…” Left his lips before he could stop himself.

Haytham paused for a moment, before the CEO returned to his side and gently wrapped both of his arms around Connor’s waist, speaking in low, soothing tones - about anything that came to the other’s mind. His father was describing some of the paperwork that he’d been working on - courtly procedures for the transfer of land for one of the new buildings that Abstergo was planning on creating. “Open your eyes, when you have a moment.”

It was incredibly boring, but the point of it was to get him to focus on something else - and Connor found himself relaxing into his father’s grip, slowly starting to open his eyes as his breathing returned to a more normal rhythm. He managed out after a moment “Thank.,.. Thank you for talking to me, father.” He continued to lean against Haytham - he knew that his stern and distant father disliked such emotive displays, but The young man still needed the warm contact that holding his father provided.

Haytham’s eyes were gentle, and there was something resembling a smile on the other’s face as he responded with “Very well - the worst of the turbulence is up ahead, and we need to strap in, so that we don’t get bruised, but we do have a few minutes to collect ourselves before we need to start movng.”

Connor nodded, clinging to Haytham and sighing silently, burying his face into one of his father’s shoulders and breathing in the other’s scent. He found himself calming down very quickly, and after several minutes, Connor sat up and straightened, smiling sheepishly at his father. Haytham was the only thing he could see, but it was… it was wonderful to be so close to his father, and Connor managed after a couple of moments. “I… I’m feeling a bit better than before. Thank you for… Thank you for helping me calm down.”

The expression on his father’s face transformed into a true smile - it was small, but it was there and the young man could feel his heart skip several beats “I am happy to help you, however I can, Connor.”

“Thanks… I… I didn’t expect so badly to the turbulence but…” Connor hadn’t spoken of this to anyone since it had happened but something urged him to tell Haytham - perhaps it was whatever caused his heart to skip a beat, or the warmth that was still present in his chest as the two of them walked over to the nearest chairs, sitting down and buckling in “I was about… Ten years old, and ista and I were in a small plane - much smaller than this one. I was… I was really sick and there wasn’t a hospital close to where we lived and… The entire flight was incredibly bumpy. I could hear the paramedics talking with mom… they probably thought they were talking quietly, but they were worried that the.. There was a tornado in the area, and they were worried that it might catch up with us… Which made the flight so much more terrifying.”

Haytham frowned a little and gave him a one-armed hug, responding with a quiet “I have no idea as to what that must have been like, but I am glad that you were able to pull through… Do you remember what you were sick with?”

“Acute appendicitis. I heard the doctor who operated on me telling my mom that I might have died, had the plane come any later than it did.” Connor murmured quietly, shivering a little at the memory. the expression of genuine concern caused his heart to skip another couple of beats and he felt himself blush a little.

“There is no need to be embarrassed - I can tell that it was quite the ordeal for you, Connor. I am glad that you were able to pull through, and I will endeavor to make sure that when we fly again, that the pilot is to be made aware that we are to avoid all possible turbulence, if they can at all help it.”

“Thanks, father.” Connor murmured, glad that the elbow rest between them was out of their way, and it was nice to be able to be pressed so close to Haytham and… Oh. Connor closed his eyes again as the plane started to even out, hoping to catch some sleep, or that he would be able to forget that he… He was starting to develop a crush on his own father… But he snuggled into the other, distressed but also unable to allow himself the selfish indulgence of cuddling into the other - especially since Haytham was tolerating it.

[tonyguiltypleasures]

So it's mermay

Here's some stovetuna babs for you I actually abandoned this story awhile ago but decided to spin it into a oneshot for y'all ----------- Steven had heard of orcas and their mer counterparts, but only in stories. For a mershark living in the pacific reefs, the idea of a whale or merwhale that could tip over and eat a white shark sounded a lot like a scary bed time story for pups. For all intents and purposes, Steven didn't believe such things. Imagine his surprise as he stared into the eyes of a terrrified merorca. The situation as it turned out was fairly simple, Steven had journeyed to the east side of the farthest island off the reefs for privacy. It was late spring and being surrounded by pups all day was exhausting. A leisurely swim would do him some good. He stayed closer to the surface watching the bright moon rise and be surrounded by stars in the pitch blackness of night. It was calm and pleasantly quiet. The gentle current kept water flowing over his gills allowing Steven to slow and enjoys the warmth of the pacific. He stayed like that, floating in the open water until a large and blunt force plowed into him. Steven panicked as the force of the crash tipped him upside down. His breathing stuttered and Steven could feel his senses numb from the trance-like affect. For a moment Steven believed he would suffocate, out in the open water, where no one knew where he was. It was a chilling and lonely thought. A voice was muffled in his ears and something, or someone pulled Steven forwards. There was a firm grip on his shoulders and the muffled voice kept speaking. Through his clouded vision, Steven could make out a black lined figure. Blinking Steven realized it was a mer. "...-okay?" "Wha? Who are you?" Steven asked with his senses back, the white mershark was annoyed. For all the open space there was this mer chose to ram into him? "I-I'm sorry I didn't mean t-to..." The other mer looked quite skittish. Warm brown eyes looked back constantly. He was shaking slightly, Steven noticed, and would look back as if watching for something. In fact now that Steven was able to get a look he realized. It was a merorca. A very small one in fact. The merorca was chattering nervously about something. Steven really wasn't paying attention although he should be. "Aren't whale mers supposed to be as big as their counterparts?" The mer stopped, looking at Steven with a petulant look of frustration. "Well yeah-" "Because I'm a white shark and your smaller than me." "I don't have time for this!" The shout echoed out through the open ocean. The mer yelped covering his mouth. He was shivering all over. Steven swore he might cry. What could scare an orca to the point of tears? The thought was interrupted by a low groan. It was loud and off putting. Whatever creature made it was obviously angry. Or hungry. Or both. Steven grabbed the merorca's arm and bolted. Racing away Steve guided them to a deserted rock outcrop. There was a small cave there that had been empty for years. They could hide there. Steven dragged the mer into the small cave pulling him close as he dug himself into the corner and motioned for the mer to stay quiet. He was still shivering. They waited anxiously as the huge monster passed. Steve could feel the sheer power of its presence. At least an hour or so went by before Steve dared to speak. "What exactly did you do to anger that thing?" His voice was quiet just in case. The mer orca was still shaking and didn't answer. "Uh, my names Steve. What's...yours?" "Mhm tony." Was the mumbled reply. Steve smiled. "It's nice to meet you, tony. So what exactly happened that made that thing chase you?" Tony laughed on a broken sob. He had stopped shivering but still clung to Steve like a life line. Steve found that he didn't really mind. "It's uh, a really long story..." Steve smiled relaxing against the smooth wall of the cave. "I've got time." Tony blushed.

[daciakahn]

Control

I have decided to and is still deciding to release my control, my need to have things in my grasp, held firm.

I have lost a lot of things due to the tightness of my grip & it pained more to see how things flowed through my palm.

I have stumbled across a lesson , a teacher a grand odd happening & not being in charge terrrifies me, aches me, stalks me & bewitches me but each time I weather the storm I feel stronger and can add to my perspective .

I still want to hold tight, but it’s unlike the grasp I had , I want to hold tight to me, my joy & how I persevere. I want to hold tight to the knowledge of me always showing up for me .

[transcanadianhighway]

I didn't realize there was a wake tonight. There is. I don't want to be an asshole, I want to say goodbye to pa. But I also don't want to do this. There are so many factors as to why. (A lot having to do with seeing my relatives and still being like, "haha yep still no career in the foreseeable future! And I'm unemployed again hahah"

My chest is like pounding but I'm sure it's just me thinking about it. I don't want to do this. I'm gunna ask if I can drive up on my own tonight. And drive up again tomorrow very early. I know my mum wants to do that. I know my dad doesn't, but there really isn't enough room for everyone anyways.

I don't wanna be weirdly emotional and ask to "please let me grieve my own way I want to be alone" but I don't even know what to think about anymore. What my thought priorities are. Everything feels awful. Nothing seems good or okay.

Then next weekend there is a wedding. I feel so bad for my cousin. She loses one of her grandfathers a week before her wedding. That's terrible. It's almost a nice distract for everyone else, but I just ugh.

I keep thinking of my grandmother alone, although god knows she won't be. She has 4 kids and 2 live close by, and a lot of grandchildren a bunch still in the area.

I don't know what to do. I know the answer is "nothing, just go to the wake and funeral" but there feels like there is so much minutiae happening that could make tis go wrong.

I'm afraid of how my mother is going to behave. I hope to god she keeps her shit together. I'm very worried what might happen. She's horrendously unpredictable. I just hope she waits to have any hissy fits for a few weeks.

I'm so exhausted literally just THINKING about all this. I'm scared of anything that could happen. I'm afraid of mum being a shit. I'm afraid of emily being a disrespectful piece of shit. I'm afraid to see my dad cry. I'm afraid to see my grandmother cry. I'm afraid I won't cry. I'm legitimately afraid my dad will share his beard (because mum said he said he was gunna after pa died because pa liked him with out a beard. I've literally never seen my father's full face and the concept scares me. I'm not joking it utterly terrrifies me.) I just don't need that sort of a change right now.

I don't want to see my family. I wish I could skip the wake and the reception after the funeral. I don't want my dad to be upset or feel I'm disrespecting his family. I just

I'm also starting training for a job that probably wont even cover my parking in new haven soon. I'm thinking about backing out before I start to save money.

I'm exhausted by thinking about all this. I haven't even touched on future things like should I go back to school (I mean probably). I've been given so many opportunities, I've seized none, I've squandered all the luck the universe doles out for your life time.