#but i wish id take more photos of myself

[sdjs31]

Comfort in healing

Warnings: mentions of self harm, acts of self harm, relapsing, depression, just depressing and triggering stuff but with fluff at the end

A/N, so I recently went through a break up and suffered with it hard. And badly too. Writing this seemed to help me move past my block but also help mend a piece of me inside. I understand that this is triggering and very sensitive, but there are people who go through this, myself included.

You and Melissa broke up. It happened so quickly and suddenly, you don’t remember the conversation and why. Now you’re sitting in the bathroom and a razor blade in your trembling hands. God you wish Melissa were here. But you can’t call her.

You and Melissa dated for two years. In those two years you’ve been in the happiest and healthiest relationship you’ve had in a while. You still had ups and downs like any other relationship but suddenly it got too much and you two broke up. Now you find yourself relapsing because of it. Five years down the drain of being clean.

Sighing you lean your head back against your bathroom cabinet feeling the pain radiating through your body, but yet you feel free and relaxed. Your phone suddenly buzzes. A text from Melissa

“Y/N, can we talk?” You don’t answer, another text “Please Y/N” again you don’t answer. After a few minutes you just close your eyes and take a deep breath. Your phone buzzes again but with a call. It’s Melissa. You don’t answer, she rings a second time and you just stare at her caller ID, a photo of you two on your one year anniversary. Everything inside you shatters again and you bring the blade to your skin. Wincing you do what makes you feel better but also worse. Your phone buzzes more and finally you turn off your phone completely. Slowly getting up from the floor with your knees achy you clean yourself up and head back into your room and lay down. Staring at the ceiling for a few minutes before eventually dozing off. You wake up to a knock and you just roll back over and try to go back to sleep. Apparently you dozed off and are being shaken awake by someone. You immediately wake up and see who it is. Melissa, staring at you, with a worried expression on her face and her face slightly paler than usual.

“Issa?”

“Y/n? What happened?

“Huh?”

“Hey, focus on me. What happened? Why is your pants red and so are your sheets?”

“Huh?” Still groggy you aren’t following her words “what do you mean”

“I asked you, why are you bleeding? Your sheets and pants are stained red.”

This jolts you more awake. “What? I thought-“ you thought you cleaned up well and patched up yourself well enough to prevent bleeding like this. You slowly get up realize the bandages came off. You didn’t have actually bandages, just bandage tape.

“Oh- …it’s nothing.”

Melissa still looks confused and concerned “you don’t have to tell me, but why. I know that’s not your period. What did you do?”

You just look at her, mouth opening and closing, not finding words. She sees you struggling and she slowly walks over to you. “Y/n, tell me, please. Why are you bleeding?”

You stiffen “I uh- I- Mel-“ you start to sniffle and shake. You eventually collapse onto the bed. “I’m sorry Mel, I’m so sorry. I-, I just, god I’m an idiot” at this point your crying and you out your face in your hands, “I’m so sorry” you whisper

She bends down, her hands hold yours “sweetheart, it’s not your fault. I should be sorry. I let my thoughts and insecurities get the best of me. I didn’t give you an explanation. I’m the one who bursted out on you, took it out on you. I am so sorry y/n. Sorry won’t cut it, but know that I am. Youse deserve better than me, youse need someone who can give you what it is you want. Marriage, a family, fun, everything.”

You just look at her and tears run down your face. “Mel, I don’t need everything. I just wanted you, and only you. I know you don’t want to get married again, I’m fine with that. Family, having a family, it’s not a priority in my life. I want to enjoy life, to enjoy it with you. You don’t have to be sorry, because I forgive you. I am not ashamed of you, or embarrassed of you. I love you Melissa. I wish you’d understand that you give me all that I want.”

She looks at you, her eyes teary and lip quivering. “No one had said that to me before. I really am sorry. For doing this to you, for causing this to you.” She looks at your red stained pajama pants. “I am the cause of this, I can’t forgive myself for that. You shouldn’t have to do that because of me- I am the -“ before she could finish you kiss her lips softly and pull away “hey, you aren’t. It’s my thoughts that got me and harmed me. I did this myself willingly. And I’m sorry you even have to know I did this again let alone see it. I am sorry for that. You, had every right to feel what you felt, what you think. I probably would too. But Mel, you are enough, you give me enough. You make me happy and loved, I feel home with you.” You take her hands in yours and rub her rings with your thumbs. “If you want me still, I want you still.”

She chuckles softly. “I want you, I just can’t forgive myself for letting you do this.”

“Hey, it’s okay, they’ll heal, I’ll be okay. I was, I wasn’t thinking, okay? My mind was in a blur and I was hurt. It is not your fault, okay, i promise”

“Okay, but I won’t let this go, it hurts seeing you in this state.”

“It’s okay, it will be okay Mel” you kiss her rings and hold her hand kissing her hand. She smiles and gets up with a little grunt of pain from being bent down. “Let’s get you cleaned up okay? Let me help you get cleaned up.” You pause at this, “I don’t want you to see them. I don’t want you to have the image of my harm in your head.” She opens her mouth but the closes it and just nods. She gets to work to take your sheets off your bed and throw them into the wash while you go to the bathroom and clean up your mess. If stings but that’s what you are paying for, but you know now, that if you two just communicate and talk things out, it will be okay.

You come out of the bathroom patched up and in clean clothes, she looks up as she puts your last pillow back. “You okay?” She asks. You just nod, “more okay that you’re here.” You go to your closet and grab her spare pajama pants and her favorite shirt of yours. “Stay the night Mel?” She smiles “of course” she goes to the bathroom and washes her face and brushes her teeth changing into the pajamas. She walks out and sees you in bed already. She slides into bed and holds you close to her “I’m still sorry. I’ll be spending a lot of time making it up to you and making sure that you are okay and just, I’m so sorry.” You lean up to look at her “hey, I’m past that Issa, it’s okay, we are okay now. Yeah? It will be hard to get over this, especially what I did to myself but I promise that you and I will be okay.” She nods and kisses your forehead and holds you closer if even possible. “Sleep yeah?” You say. She nods “yeah, we can spend all tomorrow in bed if you want.” You smile at this, “of course, anything to make up for lost time.” She herself smiles and says “I love you y/n. I always will, no matter what.” “I love you too Mel, through it all”

[imtryingbuck]

Come back

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x fem!Reader

Summary: The team lose their friend (I’m bad at summaries sorry)

Word count: 3,919

Warnings: Angst. Sad times. Swearing. A grave gets dug up. Brock Rumlow. 

Masterlist   Series Masterlist

  In Loving Memory Of Y/n L/n

    Killed In Action Saving 5 Innocent Children

    Dedicated Agent

    Friend To Everyone

 10/05/1990 - 10/05/2017

“Pass me a donut will ya”

Everyday since the plaque went up 5 years ago, Bucky always reads it. Everyday a small chuckle will leave his lips when reading the quote Tony made sure was engraved in the marble. ‘She always said it and she did tell me once that when she died to have it on the plaque they HAD to give her’ Tony repeated that conversation when they deciding what would be put on the plaque. It was true, did she always say it. He can hear her voice saying the words he reads every day. 

Putting his two fingers to his lips he lightly kisses them, the gently places his fingers on her photo. Her ID photo took 8 tries to take because she wouldn’t sit still or she wouldn’t keep a straight face. In the end they settled on the final one, her with a huge smile on her face. She told Bucky once when he had asked-

‘why are you smiling in your photo?’

‘Because a smile a day keeps the dentist at bay’ 

‘That’s not an expression’

‘Well it should be’

He missed her more and more every day. Today however left a bitter taste in his mouth, today was the anniversary of her death. 

Every year since they watched their friend die, the team makes sure they don’t have missions just so they can celebrated her death as well as her birthday.

Every year on that painful day they gather in the common room and watch all of her favourite films and play all the board games she went crazy over, they would order and/or cook her favourite food. Then they would each blow out a candle on the large donut Tony had specially made for her birthday. 

He remembers that day when Tony surprised her with it a few years before her death. Her squeals made everyone laugh, she made everyone blow out one candle ‘it’s my birthday and I want everyone to get a wish’ and as the years passed they still did it.

They were halfway through the third film when director Fury walked in.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but you guys need to hear this”

“What is it?” Tony asks sitting up from where he was slouching.

“Earlier today there was an attack at SHIELD headquarters”

“How many are dead?” Steve asks. 

“The real question you need to ask is how many are alive Rogers”

“Well?” Natasha speaks up from where she sits next to Wanda.

“None. 28 people are in critical condition” each member of the team murmur their different abbreviations of ‘oh god’.

“Who was it do you know?” Steve questions. 

Walking around the sofa and sitting down on the lone chair Fury sighs “There’s was only one person. With a symbol on their back, take a wild guess which one”

“Hydra” They all speak at the same time.

“Yep. Now heres the reason why I’m here. The computers were tampered with, the IT department has managed to find out what was deleted”

“Go on” Tony says when Fury trails off.

“The file.. the only file to be downloaded and deleted was Y/n’s.”

The teams reaction was different from one another’s however Bucky, Bucky’s heart stopped, he’d gone cold and clammy at the same time, so many questions circled his mind. Why hers? Why now? Why couldn’t they just leave her alone? Why her of all agents?

It was as if Steve could read his mind because it was him that asked “Why hers? She’s been dead for 6 years now. Why would Hydra want her file?”

“We-I don’t know. Now here’s the part you guys are not going to like. Ross wants Y/n’s body to be dug up”

Before anyone get say anything “Absolutely fucking not! You touch her grave I’ll kill you myself!” Bucky shouts.

“Then I’ll bring you back to life just to kill you again” booms Thor.

“Listen to me, I don’t want to do this! Ro-“

“I don’t care what Ross wants. It’s bad enough her headstone needs to be replaced every two months because of arseholes keep wanting a piece of it, now you want to dig her up? It nearly killed all of us watching her coffin go into that hole now you want us to watch it come back up?” Bucky’s left hand is balled tight in a fist as he paces back and forth.

“You don’t have to watch and you need to watch your tone” Fury shot back.

“What are you going to do with her?” Wanda asks before Bucky can say anything.

“We’ll put her somewhere different- safer. It’s just a precaution and we have no idea what they want with her file. We don’t know why they picked her out of all active agents and Barnes I don’t like this anymore than you do, Y/n was” taking in a deep breath “I miss her too. I’m sorry but I’m going to give Ross the go ahead on this. You guys don’t have to to be there when it happens and when we find out what’s going on we’ll bury her again. I promise”

For a full 20 minutes after Fury left they were sitting in complete silence each trying to wrap their heads around the information they were just given. SHIELD headquarters had been attacked by Hydra - using just one person to assassinate so many agents. Out of all the Agents of SHIELD alive or dead they pick their friends file, their friend who they loved and adored the same friend who always had a smile on her face no matter what, the one person who could light up a room just by walking inside of it. A person who was so full of happiness and sunshine yet deadly and damn right terrifying when she needed to be. 

Now said friend who they have grieved for, for the past 6 years was about to have her resting place disturbed. Like Bucky had said to Fury, it nearly killed each and everyone of the Avengers and the Guardians - who came to Earth just to attend her funeral - they knew that the probability of dying on the job was high, of course they did, they just never expected it to happen to her, they had to watch as their friend, confidant, colleague, the better half to all of them lay in a box surrounded with 4 camera crews broadcasting their every move just so the whole world could watch them in their most vulnerable moment. They watched as her coffin was gently placed into the ground, knowing that it was going to be the last time they would ever see her after the soil would cover her.

They broke. Plain and simple, they broke. Worst part of it was is that the world lapped it up, the images of Natasha more famously known as the Black Widow standing at the grave of her best friend in bright colour clothing crying, was every where - people joked about how the deadly assassin was crying, saying she wasn’t as strong as everyone made her out to be because she cried. Y/n was undoubtedly the only person Nat felt comfortable with, the one person who saw Natasha as Natasha, not the Black Widow but her friend Natty. She was actually the first person in a very long time to see Nat cry, it was when the goldfish - that Y/n had brought her after she found out that Nat had always wanted one - had died, she felt so unbelievably stupid for crying over it but all Y/n did was hold her, told her to stop being silly for calling herself stupid. They buried it near the lake, just the two of them. Y/n even had bagpipes playing on her phone which made the redhead chuckle.

Wanda was called a crybaby because guess what? She was crying, she was crying because she was burying her best friend! The first person other than Steve to treat her like a human being. The first person to show her that not all people were bad, the one person who wasn’t scared of her that time when Wanda had lost control of her powers making people run in fear, not Y/n though nope she was the one who managed to help Wanda ground herself.

Steve was also mocked for crying for the loss of his friend, ‘Captain America weeps at funeral’, ‘Captain America is weak’, ‘Steve Rogers needs to give up the shield’. Y/n was the one who taught him how to use technology, showed him how the modern world worked and operated. She was the first person on his side when he wanted to track Bucky down. He loved her, not romantically, but he loved her so much. She made him feel normal, she never treat him like he was nearing a 100 years old who was missing 70 years of his life, like he actually was.

Sam just like the rest was called weak for crying at his friends funeral. The two of them drove the whole team insane when they were together (which was pretty much all the time) Like Steve he loved Y/n, she was his sister, his angel as he always called her. She was his best friend, favourite person in the world. The photo of Sam falling to his knees at the side of his angels grave was blasted all over the internet.

The photos of Tony clinging on to his now wife Pepper made front pages as well. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark cries at funeral of dead agent’. ‘Billionaire Tony Stark has to be held up by woman at funeral’. He saw Y/n as his daughter - shit she called him dad and he introduced her to anyone as his daughter. She didn’t see him as a bank, nope she hated it when he would give her money, one time she had to ask him if she could borrow money from him doing it with tears in her eyes because she felt ashamed of herself for asking. A few weeks later she gave him the money back with interest, when he told her to stop being silly and for her to keep it they argued for nearly 3 hours. She managed to slip the money into his pocket without him even realising it. Tony loved her so deeply, when he and Pepper found out they was having a baby girl they already had her name picked out - Morgan, Y/n’s middle name.

‘God of Thunder Thor spotted crying at funeral’ Like everyone else of course he was crying he lost his friend, she made him laugh, she made confused - once she convinced him that she was invisible and that he was the only person who could see or hear her, for 3 weeks he was absolutely convinced he was the only person on planet Earth who could see her. It wasn’t until Sam got back from a mission that the whole jig was up. He was truly captivated by her but even more so especially after she was able to lift Mjölnir higher up than Steve was able to, waved his hammer around like it weighed nothing. He, like Bucky, blamed himself for her death, he thought no believed it was his fault she was no longer with them. So yes of course he cried.

Bruce wasn’t allowed to attend his friends funeral because when she died he couldn’t control the big green beefy fella - as Y/n called him - from coming out. Fury and Ross said it would be bad and take the attention away from Y/n if the Hulk was there. He agreed. Y/n loved Hulk like she loved Bruce, she wasn’t afraid of the Hulk - Christ she once tried to have an arm wrestle with him! She didn’t once make Bruce feel like he was a freak or a dangerous monster as small minded people called him. No she treat him with respect and kindness. It took 2 months for him to go from being Hulk to being Bruce again.

Clint turned his hearing aids off for months after her death, he remembered her asking him to teach her how to sign language just so he didn’t have to always wear them. That was an interesting experience to say the very least. Clint adored her, adored the spark she carried around, adored the warmth and tranquillity she oozed. Her strength, willpower and willingness that no one could dream of having been one of the many things he loved about her, and what he misses. The day after she died he went home, home to his wife and children where he collapsed in Laura’s arms and cried himself to sleep that night. He too was mocked for being weak.

Then there was the photos of Bucky who was struggling to stand strong. ‘The world’s deadliest assassin cries’ was the headline on magazine’s for weeks or his personal favourite one ‘Winter Soldier more like Weak Soldier’ Like Nat he too was mocked because he wasn’t wearing all black but bright colours - hell they all were, it was what she wanted and whatever Y/n wanted, she got. Her death hit him the hardest. He loved her. He still loves her after 6 years of her being gone. ‘True love is what them two idiots have’ Tony would say. He blamed himself for what had happened to her, he had just turned his back for a second to hand a child to an agent when the whole building came down trapping her inside, he should of done more he always tells himself. Other than Steve she was his best friend, the one person who wasn’t afraid off his arm, the only person who could calm him down after a nightmare. She was the first person he opened up to and not once did she judge him or called him names, after he finished telling her all the things he remembered she got up and walked over to him and pulled him in for a hug, crying her heart out and apologising over and over again. The worst part for Bucky other than losing her was that he never got to tell her how madly in love he was with her. 

“It doesn’t make sense” Steve was the one who broke the silence.

“Which part?” Tony asks.

“Everything. The attack, Y/n’s file, Ross wanting her to be dug up. Nothing makes sense”

“We need to figure this out. We can’t let them do this to her” Sam shakes his head, whilst trying to keep the tears he was fighting back at bay.

“Fury let me into his thoughts. They think they’re trying to find out how to recreate her genes.” Wanda finally speaks.

Once again the room went quiet. Y/n back story was still a bit of a mystery to the team. It was just something she never spoke about, they knew of the scars that covered the majority of her body and they did know of her mutant gene and that was it. 

Y/n was exactly like Logan, better known as Wolverine. Though Logan’s a Beta level mutant whereas Y/n was an Alpha level, the only one of her kind. She had complete control over her abilities, her fighting skills were untouchable and unmatched. She was a part of the Weapon X program, when she was a young child she was taken from the orphanage she was placed at as a baby - and unknown to the team she was subjected to the worst abuse imaginable at the hands of The Facility. Unlike Logan though her Adamantium claws weren’t poisonous.

And what made Y/n even stronger was just like Wanda she had telekinesis abilities, though Y/n was a bit stronger than the other woman.

They didn’t know that Logan had found her when she was 16, with a chain wrapped around her neck that was connected to the wall, in a dark room that only had a toilet - nothing else. Logan had managed to get her out, which wasn’t easy considering she didn’t trust him and he wasn’t her handler. Logan kept her with him for roughly three years, moving around place to place, keeping each other safe. He was growing weak and unable to keep his promise to her, promise being he’d keep her safe. With a heavy heart he took her to Fury, begging the other man to take care of her. And since then she was a highly respected SHIELD agent and member of the Avengers.

They knew if Hydra were trying to recreate her genes they would have an army that would be unstoppable.

“But why dig her up? Hydra has her file so therefore they… they…”

“Tony? You okay?”

“Other than finding out my daughters grave will be disturbed, I’m fine”. He gets up and walks away.

One by one they follow his lead, leaving Bucky and Thor to blow out the candles - making the same wish as the previous years.

For her to come back.

The very next day they all gather at the cemetery and watched with a heavy heart as her grave gets dug up.

Three days later Fury gets a phone call “Fury you need to come to the Pentagon as soon as you can and don’t tell anyone”

“On my way”.

As soon as he got there he meets with Ross. “What’s all this about?”

“It’s not her”

“What are you talking about Ross?”

“Y/n… it’s not her in the coffin.”

“Hold on, you fucking lied to me you told me you wasn’t going to touch her!”

“Fury we brought a dead agent to the Pentagon for a reason”.

“A dead agent? Remember that dead agent saved you life how many times? Oh yeah six. Six fucking times she saved your arse Ross.” The anger coming off Fury made everyone in the room shift foot to foot.

“Sorry, we brought Y/n to the Pentagon for a reason”

“Why?”

“Simple. We wanted to make sure that they hadn’t gotten to her so we checked, and it’s not her. If-if you just look to your left Nick you’ll see the body that was in her coffin”

Fury stood there for a few minutes just staring at Ross before he looked over to where he had pointed. 

There laid the decaying body of a woman, that was most definitely not Y/n.

“H-how is this possible?”

“We don’t know. It’s a possibility that Hydra got her body first, but it doesn’t explain why they would put this person in her place”

“Or she could be alive?” Fury asked hopefully.

“She’s not” Ross puts a hand to Fury’s shoulder “I checked the footage of the attack and it’s not her, I asked some of the agents that could talk if the person had claws and they all said no” Ross hated himself for calling her ‘a dead agent’ even if she was just that, but like Fury had said, she saved his life more times than one. When Y/n was introduced to him, he had to admit he was intimidated by her. But as time went on they gained each others trust and respect.

“Fury you can’t tell the Winter Soldier about this”

“James. His name is James and you honestly expect me not to say anything to the team?”

“We have no idea how any of them will react, especially him and Thor”

He hated to admit that Ross did have a point, there was no idea how the two men who blamed themselves for her death, would react.

Sighing “What are we going to do?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s just hope and pray that they don’t have her I guess”.

The screams of pure terror coming from civilians were muffled by the gunfire and explosions, the bodies of civilians and SHIELD agents scattered amongst the wreckage. Hydra made another attack on the Capital.

The Avengers were able to stop Hydra agents from pushing further forwards. But when the ground started to shake they all looked at each other.

Both Steve and Bucky gulped at the sight of the Uber Tank, memories of seeing it during the war flashed through their minds.

“What the fuck is that!” Tony questioned.

“T-that’s Hydras Tank - I thought I destroyed it” Steve answers.

The rain pour of gunfire came to a stop on both sides, agents of Hydra smirked, agents of SHIELD looked terrified. The rumbling stopped, the only sound that could be heard was rubble still falling in the background.

When the hatch came open they waited with bated breath. Rumlow.

Brock Rumlow climbed up and out of the tank, standing on top with a megaphone.

“Do you like her? She’s a real beauty isn’t she? Took us longer than I care to admit to rebuild her but here she is!” He laughs “Hey so the attack the other week on your headquarters, sorry about that. We just needed something, take a wild guess what” Not receiving an answer he sighs and tilts his head to the side “It was to get your friends file! Jesus do I have to do all the work around here?”

“I’ve got a clean shot” Voiced Clint from where ever he was at.

“Not yet” Steve says.

“Truth to be told guys we didn’t need her file, we just wanted to give you a heads up to what was going to come” Waving his arms towards to chaos “I knew if we took her file it would get your attention, and it did didn’t it. I also know that her coffin was taken to the Pentagon, and I also know that Fury’s been keeping a secret from the almighty Avengers”

“What are you talking about?” Steve shouted.

Rumlow chuckles “It’s about time you spoke Captain America, the secret is… how about I just show you huh?” Stomping three times on the Uber Tank “Little bird why don’t you come out so you can play”

The hatch comes open again, a figure all in black - very similar outfit that the Winter Soldier use to wear - emerged and moving their way to stand next to Rumlow.

“Our little bird here is even stronger than she once was. We gave her the serum and it just enhanced her strength.” Moving closer to the person he whispers something none of them could hear. “Look I’ve gotta go, don’t worry I’ll be taking this beauty with me so no need to cry. I’ll let little bird have all the fun, she deserves it” Placing a kiss to the side of the woman’s head, he pushes her off. “Good luck everyone, you’re gonna need it” Climbing back into the tank, the tracks started to rumble once again before leaving the same way it came.

Nobody moved even long after Rumlow and the Uber Tank had gone. That was until some Hydra agents started to drop to the floor with foam spilling from their mouths.

Little bird as Rumlow called her took one step in front of the other until she was roughly 100 feet on the Avengers.

Her hand slowly came up to her face, removing the bottom half of her mask then the glasses.

They couldn’t believe it.

They didn’t want to believe it.

“Y/n?”

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Tags: @bethexo07 @doublebassallie

~ banner credit goes to @sweetpeapod ~

[http-drabbles]

soulmate, soulmate where are you? 2

1.3k words of absolute crushing angst, it's 7am and i woke up to write. shall i be evil and let this be the final part? mayhaps.

warnings: s/h and making jungkook sad (:W)

fuck fuck fuck.

skimming every question and typing out my answer feels a lot like betrayal. name, age, country of residence, when my soulmate mark appeared, contact details, translator needed, agreeing to a declaration that if my soulmate mark was found to be fraudulent i could face a fine or jail time. i tick the box by his name, attach a photo of my mark and send the form off. the confirmation email is too cheery it makes my jaw ache at how i grind my teeth.

i don't want to talk about the circumstances that lead me to fill out that form, to apply for a loan that covers travel cost and a hotel for this. the woman who helped me fill out the form was again all too cheery, wishing me a good luck and all i could do was smile so fucking limply back at her while noticing lipstick smudged against her teeth.

a month passes and i'm gleeful, maybe it's a network error and my form never submitted. i'm free and can tell the loan company to cancel my plan, i don't go on social media to see what jungkook is up to and in those weeks the nightmare is over and i embrace my loneliness.

the email arrives at 16:21. heathrow to seoul, a contact at hybe will meet me at the airport. id needed. date of when i'm expected to actually meet jungkook, with a disclaimer that it may change due to fluctuating schedule. the tiger lily tingles, and i almost see the petals opening ready to accept him.

"don't get your hopes up, i can always email them back to get out of this."

i don't. of course i don't because i'm standing in a Costa in London Fucking Heathrow next to the hybe contact who is analysing their croissants like it's the key to end all misery. i wished i could look at croissants with that much intensity.

she asked once to see my soulmate mark, gave it a one second glance over and then typed something down in her phone, i wondered how many people she's flown with to Korea. more than ten i would bet. i don't ask, i'm not conversational but when we're waiting in the queue holding out boarding passes i blurt to her.

"i haven't flown before. i've got a fear of it i think."

she passes me a sleeping tablet and i bump her number from ten to a solid fifteen.

korea is pretty, face practically smushed against the taxi window i take in every single detail i can. there's an over-abundance of signs, low hanging wires and roads so tiny it's a miracle a car can pass through them. i don't take photos, i rely on my brain to remember and then forget.

hybe is anything but pretty, more like a grey lump of concrete and glass. i sign two more documents and the translator informs me that in two days time i will be meeting jungkook, but not officially meeting. more like my arm will be stuck through a gap and our soulmate marks will touch, i will have to wear a mitt because some people had become a little too excited and scratchy. my mark is thoroughly inspected this time, deemed official and not a tattoo i'm driven over to my hotel.

i don't unpack, staring at the forms in my hand which are a mix of korean and english i almost laugh. traitor. stupid traitor.

over the next two days i come to two big conclusions, one kimchi is too sour but the rice cakes should be considered a universal delicacy and two, is it too late to back out?

is it too late to back out? i'm in the taxi, i consider clawing the windows for escape but i decide that digging my fingers into my belly helps ease my nerves. can i back out? hybe is cold, the ac is too strong and there's other girls in the room i'm lead into. shy smiles as i plop myself in the back. we are called alphabetically. is it possible to back out? there's four of us left now, i didn't bother counting us as a whole. i can't stop digging my nails into my stomach.

i can't back out. my name is called and somehow my body removes the hand from my belly and i walk myself over to the room. there's a row of grey screen partitions that divide the room, a small slither in the middle presumably where my arm will go. it hits me jungkook is on the other side and i bite my bottom lip hard to avoid laughing. tugging my sleeve up a staff member puts the mitt on securely, another verbal warning to not do anything harmful to the artist.

artist and not his name.

i sit down on the chair, staring into that small space to catch a sight of him but there's nothing. i don't mind a fine, or jail time. i hope it's not real. deliberately slowly i raise my arm, putting it through the gap with my tiger lily facing upwards. the air shifts around my arm and i feel him. warm as his tiger lily presses against mine.

at first nothing, and i almost let out the loudest sigh of relief and then it is everything. in the mitt my fingers jerk, i pull away like i've been electrocuted clutching my arm but it's energy, pure energy. thrum. drum. drum.

he's tearing the partitions apart and i stagger back, nearly falling over the chair to get away from him. frantic korean, something more reassuring from a staff member and then he pokes his head through. beaming smile, he's so happy to see me and i guess i'm somewhere between absolutely mortified and in complete shock. his sleeve is rolled up and i notice his tiger lily has fully blossomed, a quick glance down at mine and i realise mine is the same.

he speaks again, approaching me like he wants to hug me but seeing that i'm backing away like a rabid animal he slows, contains himself and glances at the translator and back at me.

"hello. i'm jungkook. it's nice to meet you finally." oh god. too much. he's too kind and his cologne has infiltrated my nostrils and i'm so glad the mitt is still on because i'd be clawing at my nose to stop smelling it.

"s-sorry.. can't." i give the staff member who brought me in here the universal look of, 'get-me-the-fuck-out-of-here-now.' i am ignored.

"sorry?" he tilts his head in pure confusion, he looks worried. i hate him for it. "don't be sorry. it's okay. i'm happy."

i glance around the room and notice i'm being recorded, i don't know what sets me off more. he's too close, the camera, him, why is he so close? he touches my shoulder to comfort me and i jerk away, i can't stop looking at the camera and the other staff members who are beaming at us.

"i'm sorry," my eyes lock with his, "i don't want you." he doesn't understand and i glance at the translator.

she looks sad and very softly tells him what i've said, he doesn't seem to believe her because he presses his fingers against the tiger lily and shakes his head.

"us. this is us." he's struggling to speak himself and i can see him remembering. he's really looking at my arm now, clearer. the burns, the cuts. all the times i've tried to prune that cancerous flower from my arm. almost physically wounded he takes a step back.

"i'm sorry, i don't want this." the translator repeats my words and all he does is nod.

he nods and i leave.

[bentosandbox]

AK Fest posting part 1

because i have so many pics to go through

There are two halls, the one with official/fan stuff and the actual theme park-ish one This post covers the first because image limit

The tickets were sold on Bilibili so I got them myself, you also have to register your name and ID and I got a VIP ticket so I got to sleep in little later (i think it was like 298 vs 598 RMB... you get more merch and 1 hour earlier entrance/shorter entry queue, but apparently so many people lined up early on the first day they let the floodgates loose at 8 plus and merch sold out by 0930 lmao) Idk how unfair it'd be (not sure how many tickets they sold per tier) but I kind of wish the VIP let you fastpass the attractions too kuxiao

I went on the 4th which was the second…? day and before I went in I had to scan a qrcode to basically upload a selfie lol (surprisingly didn't have to do this for the concert they just looked at my passport punched in the funny numbers on a device and let me through a manned door)

You get a totally not infection monitor to tap at every location, and if you scan the qr code on the underside it brings you to a miniapp on wechat that shows you your progress and queue estimates (there was also some quest thing that i forgor to do i think you get doctor stickers for it)

I headed here first because I wanted to pass some stuff to an oomf at the doujin area (first pic is the queue...) they invited a bunch of fanartists (that post regularly on skland? not sure) to table there kinda cool with a showcase of fanart

sorry it was impossible to take a nice pic of the chummer gk I TRIED

bought an eyja collab tea bottle cause it was from vending machines compared to the fresh drinks (i didnt get to try the chen one cause uh… i forgot basically the naixue near my hotel was always out of the drink set w/ the bonus merch)

I'd post so many photos but the 10 image limit is kinda killing me over here... they had this huge area to look back at all the events basically

Area with production materials and some merch wips like I saw the justice knight figurine that I can't post because I already have 10 images on here ahhhhh WAIT I CAN JUST EMBED TWEETS ON HERE

Old tweets about the Free Stage that day which was basically public karaoke guillotine

and the frostnova memorial

[grumpybunny-edith]

Gwen's Bunny HRT - Month 1 (Part 1)

I look at my reflection for what feels like the hundredth time today, waffling on how to do it. All the other girls have already gone through all this, and compared to their one-month photos, I feel... Behind. Delilah had already started growing fur in some places, and Edith already had a little bit of tail growing in. Sure, it looked a little weird without any fur on it, but... I’ve got nothing there but soreness. Is it even worth celebrating? Like, “oh yay, my ears look longer if you squint and my teeth look a little sillier”.  

I take a deep breath and dig my toes into my carpet, feeling pain flare up in them. It just started a couple days ago — maybe it would be better to wait until something came of it? Until walking on my toes didn’t hurt so bad, or even felt better than walking on my heels? 

I feel a tiny impulse at the small of my back, my spine apparently doing its best to wiggle at its base. Am I... unconsciously wagging my tail? The soreness that comes with it matches what the other girls had talked about. I smile, showing my reflection my weird teeth and the pain subsides a little. 

“Bunnies wag their tails when they’re upset,” Edith had told me once. It’s warming to feel how right she is, to feel like I actually belong, even for a second. It’s not that the other girls haven’t done a good job of making me think so; it’s just hard to see all of them so far along and then to look at myself. 

I set my phone down and stare at myself for a while. I imagine the fur suddenly sprouting up all across my body, shiny and soft. I imagine my ears getting so tall they graze the doorway. I imagine my tail, tiny and fluffy, poking out just about the hem of my sweatpants. It makes me smile and laugh at myself, and I feel a bit of pride in my teeth. They’ll look better coupled with everything else, I think. 

I hear my phone buzz, trying to avoid convincing myself it’s because my hearing has spontaneously improved. I laugh it off and check what it was. 

raeraebun: Hey girl!! Today’s one month, right?? Where’s the update??

I smile and blush instinctively. Rae and I don’t chat that much, but every time we do it lifts my whole mood. She’s also dropped by my place a couple times because she “made too many brownies and just had to make a delivery”. 

wen-kutesuli: Hey! Idk if I’m gonna do it today honestly lol 

raeraebun: Aww, why not? i mean like do whatever you want obvi but. you okay?

I sigh. I know I can probably tell her, it’ll almost definitely be fine, and she probably has something great to say. But it doesn’t make it any easier to say it. I’m almost embarrassed to still feel the way that I do even after her and Edith’s constant preaching of “loving yourself wherever you are”. 

wen-kutesuli: Yeah I’m okay lol. Just kinda 

wen-kutesuli: Wish I had more to show, I guess? 

Rae’s response comes quite literally instantly. 

raeraebun: GWENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN

raeraebun: okay 

raeraebun: lemme show you something 

When Rae comes back after a couple minutes of digging, she sends me a picture of some random girl with hair like her own, followed by five closeups of a pretty standard human ear. 

raeraebun: so like

raeraebun: this was from january last year 

raeraebun: Id been on hrt for like. a month and a half to the day

raeraebun: I had taken a picture of myself every day since starting my regimen

raeraebun: and didnt see anything until that picture when FINALLY 

raeraebun: my ears had grown the tiniest little bit. 

raeraebun: I didnt stop screaming about it all day lol ashley got so sick of it 

raeraebun: and yk what happened next?

raeraebun: they stayed just like that for three more weeks LMAO

Rae has this way of making people smile and cry their eyes out at the same time. 

raeraebun: so... be nice to yourself? its not gonna happen all at once, and thats ok. every little bit is worth, like

raeraebun: I dunno 

raeraebun: a thousand parties

wen-kutesuli: That’s a lot of parties 

raeraebun: and you earn every single one of them :) 

I sit in stunned silence so pleased I don’t know what to do with myself. My body wants some kind of release, and I let it have one, laying face down and kicking my feet so quickly and so hard into the floor it probably upset the people below me. 

raeraebun: you dont have to, but we all wanna celebrate with you :D 

wen-kutesuli: Thank you 🩵 Maybe I’ll do it 

raeraebun: YAYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYYY

raeraebun: GO GWENNNNNNNNNNNNNNNN!!!

---

Thank you to @flightlessbirdgirl for helping me decide on Gwen's username and for letting me bounce ideas off it!

Next

[lethalchiralium]

part 2 of the 1940's fic with simon please 😭

I think we all need it...LOL

make sure you're taking care of yourself, though! we love you ❤

Jubilee Line | Simon “Ghost” Riley x Wife!Reader

a/n: i can’t lie to y’all. this has been done for like two months, but i have been tweaking it and am still somehow still unhappy with it? it’s fine. i’m fine. i’m being an ass. PART THREE SOON I PROMISE (i have been taking care of myself, thanks babe!)

warnings: SET IN 1940’s AU. Mentions of war, sort of accurate WW2 event dates. Mentions of being a Prisoner of War, mentions of torture.

summary: Lieutenant Simon Riley was coming home. He was finally coming home to his beautiful wife, but little did he know that at the end of his journey, there would only be heartbreak.

This is the second part to You Leave Me Wounded and Bleeding!

“Hermano.”

Simon’s eyes flickered up from the ring in between his fingers, tugging it slightly on his leather ID tags. Alejandro looked at the ring before meeting Simon’s eyes.

“Married?”

The Lieutenant nodded, looking back to the ring, seeing how the once polished gold was now rough and scratched. He thought to polish it when he arrived home, hoping the jeweler in town was still there.

“How is Manchester, then?” Alejandro continued the interrogation, talking a lot more than he ever had before. Before the train ride across England, before the Japanese POW camp they were captive in, before the Pacific Theater. “And your wife? Any niños?”

Simon scratched his jaw a little, still staring at the ring. “No.” He’s thought about it when he was away - maybe it wasn’t so bad to have children to come home to. His wife was expected to have children by her young age and she was nervous about it, he was too. “Not yet, at least.” He wanted a daughter that looked just like his wife, wide smile and beautiful eyes. She would be named Winnie, short for Winter - a name that meant a lot to him.

“That’s too bad, hermano. Children are gifts,” He reminisced as he sat back in his train seat. Simon was all too aware of the emptiness of the train cabin now, noticing again that there was barely a handful of people on this train due to the amount of body bags in the other cars. It was a funeral train, and Simon could feel the ghosts all around him. Alejandro spoke again, “I used to take care of my little sister when I was young. I couldn’t imagine living without my family.”

“Are you married?” Simon gruffly pestered, the man opposite of him shrugged.

“Not yet.”

Simon hummed in response, his head then turned towards the window - rain pelted the glass. He let the ring fall, it hit his uniform with a dull thud. He wished then for the photo of her he usually kept in his breast pocket above his heart, but the camp had burned his last uniform and in turn, his last photo of you.

His friend cleared his throat, Simon did not move his gaze. “How long since you’ve been home?”

“Two and a half years.” The man answered, now settling his hands on his thighs. “Was sent home for six months since I was one of the first deployed from England.”

“Hermano, you have a lifetime of being on your knees and begging for forgiveness.” Alejandro’s boot hit his, Simon looked back to him. His friend sat forwards, resting his elbows on his knees. “You have a lot to make up for.”

Simon grunted in response, sitting back against his seat. “She’s waiting for me.”

Alejandro huffed with a smirk, shaking his head. “Estás tan seguro. Eres un tonto.” He wiped his face before continuing, “No wife should have to wait that long. It’s rough being alone for so long, and waiting for someone you don’t know is alive or dead?” He sighed again. “La habrá destrozado.”

“See, you’re speakin’ all this Spanish, and won’t tell me what you mean.” The Lieutenant glared at him.

“You’re a pendejo. A fool.” Alejandro pulled a Lucky Strike cigarette from his jacket, handing it to Simon.

He nodded and took it, still waiting for Alejandro to speak so he could demolish his idea. “Yeah? Why’s that?” He pulled out the brand new Zippo lighter from his pocket, flicking it open and igniting a flame. He held it out for Alejandro, who had his cigarette in his teeth and leaned forwards - lighting his. He sat back when he was content with his cigarette, pulling a drag while Simon lit his.

Alejandro blew the smoke from his mouth, crossed his ankles and spoke. “You should have let her go.” Simon’s eyes darkened. The Colonel glared at him before sitting forwards again, letting his cigarette settle between his fingers. “That is torture, being away from the one you love for so long. I’ve done it - it’s not something you can be fine with. It’s impossible to be okay if you’ll never know if they’re coming home in a uniform or a casket, hermano.”

“Been through it with ya fiancé?”

He leaned over to the wall of the cab, tapping his ashes into the ashtray. “Twice.”

Simon did the same, taking another drag before answering, “I didn’t do it on purpose.”

Alejandro blew a huff through his nose, eyes glaring at the Lieutenant. “You always have your soldiers go first, even though you have the priority.”

“Those muppets have kids, I don’t.” Ghost’s voice was flat, taking another drag and letting the smoke coil from his mouth.

“That’s the issue.” Alejandro kicked Ghost’s foot again. “You still have your wife.”

Dark eyes glared at the Colonel.

Alejandro continued. “You still had someone waiting for you.”

“Have, Vargas.” The man tapped the ashes of his cigarette in the ashtray before sitting straight up against his seat. “You’re wrong about her.” He took a long drag then, eyes staring out of the window, noticing how the trees and rainy fields turned into the outer city of Manchester. His heart jumped in his chest then, ready to jump out of the train and run home without any of his measly belongings.

He was ready to see you, his wife. Ready to settle his hands on her cheeks, kiss her like she had sculpted the sun with her bare hands. He was ready to hold her head to his chest, press her body into his because he had missed her. He wanted to hold her, tell her how he would make it up to her. Repaint the guest room, replace doors, get a dog, redo the siding. Anything she wanted, just so he could feel her skin underneath his fingertips.

The Colonel only hummed, taking a short drag before blowing the smoke through his nose. “You’re going to get hurt, hermano. I’d hate to see it.”

Simon finished speaking then, decided that if he were to continue, he’d pin Alejandro to his seat and press his knife into his friend’s throat. So, he took another long drag, watching as green trees went past with nothing but a whisper to the wind.

It was another hour before he had arrived at the Manchester Train Station, barely anyone stood in waiting for soldiers - he took in the familiar sight he hadn’t seen in years and scanned the crowd for his wife.

“Is she here?” Alejandro’s voice sounded from beside him.

Simon grunted. “Don’t see her. She’ll be at the house if she’s not here.”

“Okay.” Alejandro nodded as Simon walked forwards, his pace incredibly fast while the Colonel muttered, “Rezo por tu corazón, hermano.”

Simon didn’t take the time to admire how the streets were full of life, how the trees began to dim their lush colors - how as he got closer to his home, there was a ice cold thrum in his heart.

The lights were off, he noticed. He was halfway down his street, almost home - he could almost smell that perfume she loved so much. Alejandro was far behind, finally deciding to let Simon run home.

He stumbled up the porch, his hand engulfed the front door knob and he tried to twist it - it was locked. He growled in frustration before he looked up to the porch light shaped like a lantern and pulled up the little hood, digging his hand around until his fingers grasped the spare key. He didn’t even put the key back when he unlocked the door, shoving the door in and dropping his dufflebag to the floor.

He called your name, awaiting the sound of footsteps when his wife fluttered down the stairs. He waited in the foyer for a moment, nothing but silence canvased the house. His eyebrows furrowed, he walked forwards and into the kitchen - he almost walked into the living room to call his wife’s name again when he noticed a folded piece of paper, leaned against an old vase on the kitchen counter. He strode straight for it, only to take it in his hand.

-

Dear Simon,

I am writing to you this in case something happens. Something I cannot think about, something that can very well happen and I don’t wish to dwell upon it. These words are the only way I can express it if I am no longer able to voice them.

You’ve written me almost every week during this horrible time, about every thought and moment that caused you pain. It hurts me to know that I cannot ease your agony. It pains me that I cannot be by your side, even for a fleeting moment. You have such a kind soul, Simon Riley. I can only imagine how it will all of this affect you after the war.

Even long after your letters have stopped arriving, no British Army soldiers have appeared upon our doorstep yet - no telegrams have graced my fingers with your name upon them. That must mean something, right? That you are safe, breathing? For the past two and a half years, I’ve waited for your return; not to mention the three years before that. The danger is gone now, Simon, and you’re not here. They’ve been arriving by the train load for the past week, and none of the lists have your name. I musn’t worry, I know you will come back to me. You have a habit of keeping promises, my love - as well as secrets.

I’ve heard stories from wives, whispers among the streets about some soldiers coming home and no longer being themselves. They’re hollow, lifeless - I’ve seen a few myself. It is like the undead have invaded Manchester, they walk about with no emotion in their eye, no care for their family as they walk beside them. I’ve watched them from our bookstore, watching as their small children tug on their father’s hands and he vaguely responds with a lifeless smile, sending them away from himself. Their wives do not give away any note of worry, perfect smiles and small touches to their husbands as if to comfort them in a small way. It’s not hard to recognize the wife’s pain, it’s a pain I hope I will never know.

I’m scared, Simon. Terrified, really. What if you do not step off that train tomorrow? What will I do if I must return home in silence, no longer in your grasp? No longer sleep without the knowledge that you’ll be coming home? Well, I suppose I haven’t had that knowledge since February, but it still feels crushing to say. What will I do if you return to me and you are no longer yourself? I know war must change a man but I’m not sure how I will live if I never see your smile again.

What will I do if you do not return? Will I become like the hundreds of widowed wives, crying forever and waiting for their husband’s remains to return home? Will I be able to go to the plaza everyday, knowing that you’ve touched this place before? Will I be able to stay in our home that you’ve put sweat and blood into, just for us? I can’t think anymore of it.

I don’t think I could ever understand it, that I would ever want to. We’ve talked about it, but it still doesn’t make the ache in my soul any lighter. I cannot think of you anymore, it feels like my heart is playing a melancholy tune on a piano well beyond its years; playing a song I never knew it had memorized. And it’s like my fingers are stuck to the keys, dancing ever so slowly as if the crescendo in the sheet music keeps darting away. The climax of our story hasn’t even crossed the page yet; I keep playing this haunted tune and I don’t want to anymore. I want to rip my fingers from the keys and push myself away from the piano. But I only play this tune as I wait for you, only when you’re away from me. What will I do if this will be the only song I can play for the rest of my life?

My mother sent for me. This morning, actually. I was sitting in the study, going through the mail. My father is dying back home in America, and I must go. But I feel that I cannot leave here without knowing. I cannot leave our home without knowing if I get to kiss you or kiss the stone that will lay above your head.

I’ve wondered what it would be like for you if I leave for America this very moment. You place your key into the lock, twisting it and opening up the front door. The house would be dark, no warmth from the fireplace, nothing to signal that I would be home. Maybe you would think I abandoned you, maybe you would think I had perished. But, I know you. There will be no need to worry, Simon.

I’ve waited so long for you. So long for our life to grow, to spend more than a fleeting moment behind a bookshelf like we did when we were young. I’ve sat in every room of our home, praying and wishing for your safe return. I’ve hoped and wished so hard that I feel that the universe no longer hears me. Oh Simon, I’ve waited centuries in the collective almost six years you have been gone from my side. I’m not sure if I can wait any longer.

I will love you forever. Even if you have left this precious Earth, even if your feet still tread upon it. But I can’t wait for a ghost when I have been waiting for my husband almost our entire marriage. My father is stable enough, they believe. He has two months to live. And because I love you, Simon, I will wait exactly one month after the last train arrives in Manchester with a list of soldiers.

And if you arrive when I have gone, I am sorry. I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to come back to our home empty handed, even if you are there - because you always leave. You always leave and I have always needed you, Simon. Always. You have hurt me in unimaginable ways, my love, even if you always find your way back home to me. So, just this once - I will be the one leaving. I can’t come back. I won’t come back. I won’t come back to a house that is no longer ours. I will not come back to a house that is just mine.

I love you, Simon Riley. Don’t ever forget it.

Forever yours,

Y/N.

-

It only took him two minutes to read the letter.

It crumbled into a ball in Simon’s hand, the scarred palm of his right hand stung before he let it fall to the kitchen counter, abandoned.

It had taken him a month and a half to return from a prisoner camp in the Pacific. Alejandro and him were captured on their way back to base, tortured until the camp had finally gotten word that the war was over on the 25th of September. It was October 10th, past how long she would have stayed and waited with bated breath for him to return to her arms.

All he could think of was her. Every burn, slash, gunshot; every time they choked him, beat him, they could not erase the woman that was his wife. She was the only reason why he even made it through, why he was even alive. He had to make it home to her.

And now that he was home? She had gone. Flown from their nest, gone back home to her family. And all he could do was see red. He wanted to punch holes into the walls of his house, scream until his throat bled - but all he did was chase her ghost upstairs, almost busting his bedroom door off of the hinges when he burst into the room. The bed made, lights turned off - he ripped open the wardrobe, seeing that some of her favorite dresses had gone, but not all. Opened the dresser, seeing that it was empty of her belongings and all that was left were his undershirts. Half of them were gone too.

He turned back to the bed, he could almost see her laying there, a smile on her face as she would say, “Come to bed.”

He kneeled, tugging an old suitcase out from under the bed, standing and throwing it open upon the comforter. It was dusted, he didn’t even bother to cough when he rummaged through their papers. He pulled out his passport, flipping it open and seeing a different man upon the page. If this was another day Simon looked at his passport, he would’ve remembered a young man still in the throws of war, but he was still not what he is now. A villain, a monster.

A Ghost.

He slammed the passport closed when he made sure it was still in date. He shuffled through the papers again, seeing that hers was gone - but he began to notice papers that weren’t there before. He began to pull them out, one by one - seeing that they all had the same heading.

Dear Simon,

I don’t know how to

Dear Simon,

I don’t have the

Dear Simon,

I hate this. I can’t hate you. I can’t hate you I can’t hate you I can’t I can’t I can’t

Alejandro was right.

He had destroyed her.

It didn’t take him long to shove the passport in his jacket and bolt downstairs, skipping every other step. He grabbed his packed dufflebag and ripped open his front door, seeing Alejandro jump two feet in the air, dropping his cigarette.

“¡Qué carajo!” He sort of shouted as Ghost stomped past him, throwing his dufflebag on his back. Alejandro pulled closed his front door before running after the speeding Lieutenant. “What the fuck!”

“We have to go.” Alejandro grabbed his wrist but Ghost ripped his arm out of Alejandro’s grip, looking back at the man with a hollow expression. “She went home.”

“Hermano, lo siento.” He spoke immediately but Ghost didn’t stop walking when he turned back around. “¿Qué es lo que haces? Ghost, if she went home, that means-“

The Brit turned on his heel so fast that Alejandro couldn’t react when he was lifted into the air like a toothpick, the grip Ghost had on the man’s shirt sounded like it would rip at any second. He made direct eye contact and spat, “Her father is most likely dead. She can’t lose me too, so shut the fuck up, you muppet.”

Alejandro squawked, Ghost dropped him immediately and turned away, speed walking towards the train station. He called, “You know, I said I would escort you home, not to America!” The man didn’t respond, he just kept walking. Alejandro mumbled to himself before running to keep up, “Querido Señor, por favor, déjame matar a este hombre en un futuro próximo.”

———

taglist (thanks for being patient my loves): @oranoyaora @dest-nai @rafaelacallinybbay @belyyvolksblog @its-astrotea-love @redzscare @multitargaryen @efsa-lks @thehoneybunny @punziesworld @fanformany @ivycasket

———

Copyright © 2023 lethalchiralium. All rights reserved.

———

[worldwide-simp]

Diary of the inferior

Scp x reader

(isn't really proof-read )

This is something I had written a few words of, stored in my drafts and didn't let it see the light of day (see what I did there hehe) for some time. But I have now finished it (kinda) and its certainly one of my longest pieces. 

(The first few entries are short and poorly written, but it becomes better after some time.)

warnings: gore, kinda pessimistic views, I hate Entry 1 with all my heart, false reality, violence, euthanasia, body horror, religious talk, death.

Scp 105 is post Omega-7, she’s 24 here.

Entry 1: New Beginnings

Dear Diary, 

Maybe I should’ve listened when people told me to never take strange job opportunities.  

I thought it was perfect, I was working in a shop on minimum wage, and I could barely afford simple life necessities.

I still had to pay off my student debt and that made life all the harder. When I saw this strange opportunity presented to me by a shady caucasian man, I believed that this would be my saving light. 

I wish I had been shot that day. A bullet mysteriously found its way into my skull. A news reported merely stated it was an accident; or running from that horrid officer only to “disappear” and never see the light of day again.

I just wish that death had claimed me as one of their countless victims before immortality and the infinite loop of time laid hands upon me.

—-

Entry 2: the flower of beloved Iris

Dear Diary, 

On my photo ID, there was my smiling face. It was a smile of pure joy. You could glance at it and call it cheeky if you dared. But I was merely innocent. Innocent as a human could be. 

After the photo had been taken, I was briefed on what I’d be doing. A rambling speech about the foundation's lack of care for qualified staff and instead people with logic and reasoning. 

That gave you a fighting chance, because how bad could this job be if you just needed a little logic?  I met a girl a few weeks later. I always wondered why she had that camera with her. Perhaps it had been a dear hobby of hers? 

I found out my presumption was wrong when she took a photograph of a flower in a vase some distance away, took the picture out and then proceeded to stick her hand in the image; giving me the flower after twirling it in her fingers. 

Iris seemed proud of making me joyful, I believed I laughed all night. I later placed the flower on my desk, and even after it wilted and its petals fragile and bleak; I still folded it into my pocket and to this day it still resides there. 

She was more on the quiet side but still gave me those sad smiles with dimples on her cheeks.  I had distinctively remembered wondering about the cause of those scars on her eyelid, jaw and hands.  — 

Entry 3: false reality

Dear Diary, 

I found out Iris was an anomaly; an Scp, if you wanted a more precise definition. This was told to me by a person higher on the foundation hierarchy for its staff. Not Iris herself. 

Was I slightly hurt? Yes. 

It had left me staring into a void, although I had seen her camera doing its magic. I must have created some false reality in my head that explained this bizarre situation. 

At the time, I was scrawling through my notebook with such vigour it was comparable to an inspired writer. I was not inspired in a awestriking way. Simply wanting to write about my trepidations concerning this topic and send the letter to me in a shitty way of making myself laugh.

(Mind you, if you too were stuck as a lab assistant watching sentient doughnuts bite people, you almost certainly develop terrible humour.)

—

Entry 4: the beginning of the end

Dear Diary, 

Something strange had occurred.

I had been assigned a mission. Naturally I was confused. Lab assistants being assigned things other than cleaning up the blood after cross-testings? It was something I found most peculiar. 

They, (foundation staff),had suited me up in some strange black equipment, handed me a gun and pushed me over to some people waiting inside a black van.

I don't even have a formal qualification to handle a gun; I had screamed. Why would this be happening? I remember saying that to myself. over and over again.

A pathetic mantra that I so feebly considered answered by the many voices in my head. I cried. Then I wiped the liquid with my hand; I had refused the notion that I was a weak, feeble creature hiding the true meaning of my nature. 

When I really was just that. 

All those other people had kept their heads down, mindlessly fidgeting with their hands or drumming their fingers nervously on the knee. I merely stared at the wall, already feeling the sensation of butterflies fluttering in my stomach. 

I didn't know them, and at this rate; I would never.

—

Entry 5: pathetic chess games

Dear diary, 

They had gotten off the van, dressed in full tactical gear and shivering with a dreadful fear. This situation felt wrong and I memorized the look of someone who knew too much. It was in a puddle of water. It was my face.

Perhaps I was seeing the foreshadows of fate that dangled right in front of my eyes. But I saw nothing, heard nothing and knew nothing. This was all one of the many cruel games the foundation played, killing people as if they were mere chess pieces. 

All just to win to the game, only for another to proceed after that.

—

Entry 6: the majority and the minority

Dear Diary, 

 Scp-001 S. D. Locke’s proposal is one of the many 001 proposals that exist: detailing the sun becoming a hostile being that eradicates human beings, converts them into sentient piles of flesh which aim to find unconverted humans and drag them into the sunlight, for them too to become those hideous masses of skin. 

The scenario occurred in my timeline, at first I didn't know what was happening, only that the other staff members had screamed about the light being good and holy before I heard the most awful noises.

It squelched, moaned and cried. I suppressed gags and muffled my mouth with a cloth. What the fuck was happening? Where had they all gone? Why do they sound not human anymore?

I had ran out from the cover of the van to shield under the safety of a building, not before looking back and laying my eyes upon a horror of flesh melting away under the rays of the hostile sun, dragging its amorphous clumps of bodies towards me. 

They had once been human like myself. I had only saved myself but not them. I should go join them to redeem myself to the judging light and have my sins cleansed. I was a wretched human not worthy of being alive. 

I kept on running, determined to never let the sun touch my skin ever again. I had slammed the door of the building. It was desolate and empty. When I’d step on the ground too hard, I could hear the echoes of the impact.

The was a distinctive waft of bleach, specifically chlorine that reminded me of swimming pools. There was a lack of furnacing; which reminisced the not-so-distant memory of my office. I took shallow breaths, slumping down to the ground and rubbing a sore ligament. 

This was a weak thing a human could do, but I sobbed. I cried and cried until I felt like everything went numb. But it cleared my mind slightly, feeling less like a suffocating cloth and more so like a haze of cloud. 

I felt around in my breast pocket, closing my fingers around a packet and tearing it off and chewed on the granola bar slowly. My mouth felt dry and my throat burned, however, despite the lack of comfort, I still ate. 

I pondered on what I could do. Could I stay here and call for backup or try to find someone who was still alive? 

I sighed, then fiddled with the packet from the granola bar. Was I at fault for my comrades being turned into those abominations of flesh? I could've saved them; told them to stay inside the van and that I’d go out and check. It would’ve resulted in my death, but wasn't appeasing the majority a more important factor than the minority? 

—

Entry 7: The silence of the lamb

Dear Diary,  

I had a radio that I had snatched last minute from the van before dashing off. I had tried reaching out to anyone I could. But there was only silence.

—

Entry 8: Nihilism

Dear Diary, 

I had successfully contacted a person without being disoriented by loud static. I heard heavy breathing, it was loud and quite alarming. There was a persistent sloshing of liquid in the background. It was quiet for a few seconds; eerily quiet. Before someone spoke. 

“You are alone. You will stay forever alone if you do not accept the beautiful light. Go outside.” 

I threw the radio to a corner of the room, and it broke into several pieces. The voice didn't sound human anymore, it was distorted with an otherworldly passion. I was so blinded by the anger that had irrationally consumed me for a second I broke my only means of communication.  

Maybe I would be truly alone if I didn't go outside.

There was nothing to live for anymore.

—

Entry 9: kiss away the gore

Dear Diary, 

If loneliness was the way I would die, perhaps it would be better to perish in the sun than of hunger and the echoing quiet. I lived in cowardliness and fear. I can be free where I belong. 

I opened the door I had blocked two days ago. Such a feeble mind, but I had found revelation.  I will cleanse my body of this impurity, harbouring sins and the devil's hands caressing my skin. 

I will burn it all away. 

This was the only way I would be accepted, then I’d find peace. 

I stepped into the sunlight and stared at the scarlet sun's beauty. I felt my skin being pulled apart, melting into a puddle of goo, bones liquefying and a boiling feeling. My human mouth shrieked, but that was insignificant. My fingers merged together before becoming a singular stump and my body was crafted new.

There was an agony I couldn't describe in words. No matter how many times I may rip out this page and rewrite it countless times, no work of poetry could ever shed light on the feeling. 

My body was crafted pristine, I now moved surprisingly fast. The puddle of goo had moulded itself into the body of my absolute nature. I sought new flesh. That I would bind myself to another pure being. 

Later, I stumbled across a facility devoid of people, there were only pools of blood on the floor. The once pure white walls had undertones of fleshy colours. If I were still human, I would've gagged at the goriness of it all.

But I didn't, instead I lurked deeper into the building. A net ensnared my body all of a sudden, and I choked out a throaty snarl. A familiar figure loomed over me, with a knife poised at my throat. 

I gnashed my fleshy teeth together, reaching out to capture this impure human and bring it to the light. But the creases under their eyes faded, tossed the knife to the side and removed the netting. 

What was this revolting human doing-

I was engulfed in an embrace, a hand of theirs resting on the small of my back and the other placed upon my throat, pushing it back. Almost as if it was endeavouring for me not to rip out their face.

“I can't believe something like this could happen to such a beautiful person like you.” They murmured, gripping my body tighter like I would dissolve into ash at any moment. My jaw snapped abruptly and they hushed me. 

I heard the shuffling of fabric. Cool metal grazed my face before I heard them speak again; “It must be painful for you, I’ll shoot you so you can rest peacefully.” 

Then they squeezed my back with such gentleness it would be hard to imagine that someone like this would shoot me. 

The last things I felt were the soft fluttering of my dead heart, a soft kiss on the lips and seeing their appearance one more time. Admiring their shortly cut blond hair, scars adorning their face and cerulean blue eyes. 

Those beloved dimples showed as they smiled so miserably at the prospect of being alone once again. But this was for your sake. 

“Wait-”

She pulled the trigger. 

And you saw nothing. 

[transfloridaresources]

[Photo ID: White background with a rainbow, watercolor circle centered on it. Text reads: 'Help feed Quinn Linn. He/They/It, white trans masc. $100-$500 ASAP while waiting on SNAP (which may be delayed for months). Cash App: $quinnthedreamer Venmo: @ Quinn-Linn. Please DM if you're local to Haines City & are able to assist more in person and/or know of reliable food banks etc. Transportation is an issue so any help is appreciated! Still needs support for Sept. 1, 2024! https://gofund.me/8ddd9092.' /End ID]

In Quinn's own words:

'A lot may already know my story but one of my needs is becoming increasingly evident as September draws nearer. Until I can get on SNAP (which will take a bit because of reasons I do not wish to disclose) and disability I am needing temporary assistance in getting food for myself. Honestly any amount helps but the more I have the more I can buy at once to get me through a week or two. My need for assistance could last at least as long as it takes for me to get snap which could take a month or two.'

Cash App: $quinnthedreamer Venmo: @ Quinn-Linn

Please also support / share their GFM, which has a Sept. 1, 2024 deadline:

https://gofund.me/8ddd9092 | Tumblr post

If you are trans in Florida and in need of assistance, visit our link in bio to send a crowdfunding application if you would like TFR to advertise on social media on your behalf.

[seven-meds]

Are the marble photos your post of your own? As in, do you have a marble collection? I've been getting into collecting them myself recently and I'd love to know if you have recommendations on where to find cool ones / any thoughts you have about collecting!

I'm so happy to hear that you are beginning your own collection! More people should get into the hobby, I think… the only thing I have yet to do is attend a marble show or meetup. Perhaps someday.

All of the marble pictures I share are of marbles I personally own. My collection is fairly broad at this point and you can see many of them here on my website. Collecting marbles is deeply fulfilling to me, I love and cherish my marbles and consider them to be in some way alive. Not sentient in the traditional sense, but perhaps like a coral reef. Beautiful and thriving. I feel a deep kinship with marbles, they aren't like a small hoard upon which I sit, they are more like representative shards.

Getting into collecting marbles is not simple and it will take time to learn the ropes - how to understand what you want, how to seek out individual marbles, how to reliably ID certain marbles, how to understand what is an appropriate asking price for a marble. As always, I first recommend familiarizing oneself with marble makers and their output - Marble Alan is a great resource for this. Marbles are categorized into two broad and self-explanatory camps: handmade and machine made. Knowing which you'd like to focus on is step one. I collect primarily vintage machine mades.

It is absolutely required that you learn how to use eBay if you want to earnestly collect marbles. This is where the sellers are. Some sellers have their own sites, like Marble Mary (I've purchased from her before), and contemporary makers use sites like Esty, but eBay is where you will spend the bulk if your time. eBay has it's own fairly detailed guide for using the site effectively (The one thing I wish I'd known when I began using the site is that the make an offer option is encouraged and worthwhile! Haggle if you are given the chance!).

On eBay you are allowed to save individual searches, and searches can be extremely detailed. What I have done is saved broad searches for different marble companies as well as more narrow searches for specific types of marbles I am seeking and I look through these daily. You will have to do some browsing to learn marble lingo; any sought after marble will have its own special name that you can search for to narrow down the amount of results you must sift through. Marble collecting is an extremely organized hobby, you will be surprised how easy it is to understand and navigate once you invest the time.

For a first timer, I always recommend either Jabo or D.A.S. marbles, two more modern (but now sadly defunct) companies. They're gorgeous, affordable, and easy to find, a great place to start. Browsing through them is also a simple way to begin the foray into learning how marbles are categorized and named, as Jabo and D.A.S. titled every "run" of marbles that they created.

If you would like more help or have any detailed questions, feel free to email me (seven.meds@gmail.com)! I have been doing this for years and am more than willing to pass down the knowledge that I have gleaned to a new collector. Like all hobbies, this will take time to learn but it is more than worth it.

[peacesmith]

Jonathan’s Questioning Adventure!: Restart.

It’s been a while since I actually sat down and wrote something. Something personal to me. I mean sure I wrote poems and all, but I never held a real sentiment to them.

And yet I find myself coming back to this series.

But I couldn’t find an intriguing story to write about. I jot down my thoughts, I write about them, then scrap them. Something good happens, and it’s ruined.

So I put this off for a while, it was meant to be for a week, then some months, and then years.

Now though, I’m ready, I’m ready to restart.

“Name please.”

I stared at the lady at the front desk. Behind this glass window. Handing her my photos for my new ID photo.

“What?” I asked stupidly.

She repeats herself. “Your name. You know, to ensure you go here and all, come on you’ve been through this already. You’re a senior right? Last year here.”

I stare at her again. She wasn’t wrong. But at the same time, I didn’t feel comfortable saying my name yet. Well, deadname at least. It made my stomach twist and turn. Jesus I wish I would’ve done this before classes started. Man I wish Mariyah was here, I wish my roommate was here, just to avoid this awkward confrontation.

And yet here I am, wasting her time. With a sheepish smile, I ask her. “Can’t I just, change my name and you can use that one?”

The lady looks at me, I give up and tell her my name as she takes my photos. I couldn’t hear her well, but she muttered something about me not looking like the photo.

Man I hate ID changes.

Rehearsals were always tiring. I always ended up with spit on my pants. The downside of the French Horn in my humble opinion. Still the best instrument.

As I put away my instrument, I feel a tap on my shoulder. Turning, I see my favorite flute player. I’ll call her Rey, for the sake of her privacy.

Side note: Rey, is pronounced like ‘Ree’.

Smiling, I close my case and speak. “Hey girly, what’s up?”

She smiles at me and shrugs, slinging her case around her shoulder. I could see the wheels turning in her head as she tries to find the right words to say something.

“Not much, not bad. Tired though. Although I’m hungry man, like super hungry.”

I pick up my horn and gesture for her to follow me into the locker room. Trudging over what seems to be at least 20 pounds.

“Didn’t we just get breakfast though? You practically blew my wallet.” I put my French Horn up to turn towards her, she smiles at me again and pats my shoulder.

“Thanks sugar daddy. But I’m hungry again. We should leave campus to eat lunch later.”

I shake my head and show her my Spider-Man lunch box. “Already packed lunch, sorry man. Looks like it’s cafeteria food for you today.”

Rey groans before dragging me out of the locker room to make it to our next lecture. It wasn’t long walk, so we took our time. She rants to me about something that happened with her dorm mate. I started to tune out a bit as something, more like someone, else caught my attention.

Oh man, “Sunshine”.

Rey turns to me and follows my gaze, an eyebrow quirking up. “Sunshine?” I turn towards her and shake my head, muttering an apology. “It’s sunny out today, sunshine you know? I’m gonna go use the bathroom.”

I hand her my bag, asking her to carry it with her to our class together. I run off towards the bathroom.

Admittedly, I’ve never been a fan of the bathroom. Or the men’s bathroom. It’s been my biggest fear. Public bathrooms.

I normally wait till I’m home or until it’s empty. But today, seems like everybody and their mother was here.

Standing by the door, I search for a stall. And yet I couldn’t find an open one today. The only ones open, urinals. What a pain.

Maybe I’ll just wait until somebody comes out, I can be a little late. So I’ll stand to the side.

A guy walks in, making his way to one of the urinals before looking at me. I tense up before waving. He gestures for me to go before him but I shake my head.

“No no, you’re good go. I’m just gonna wait for the stalls.”

That same guy smiles and grabs my arm. “Dude, I insist. If you’re scared of being made fun of then don’t worry about it. I won’t say anything.”

I try to tell him it’s not that, but he keeps insisting and dragging me towards the stall. I felt my palms practically drenched in sweat. “I said I’m good man! Seriously I can wait.”

He pushes me in front of the urinal and waits. Man what a great day to not bring my packer. I stand there, covering my belt as I eye the stalls.

Slowly, I stare at him as I unzip my pants. Hands shaky as he doesn’t break eye contact. I’ve always liked tension, but this was not the right kind of tension. This felt like harassment in a sense, and yet I have no backbone.

My hand grips the edge of my pants, waiting for him to leave. He doesn’t, and I start panicking. Maybe if I stand here long enough, he’ll leave.

And just as I contemplated my next move, the stall opens and I rush past him to get in there. 

“I dunno Sam, maybe I’m just not made for a relationship. Like I feel It’s going all fine and dandy.. then boom! Breakup.”

I rant to my favorite bassoon player, she listens to me while eating her Spam-sushi. Seriously, Spam and sushi? I hate Spam. It almost feels insulting to me.

“Is this about Jay?” She asks, which I tense up at before waving a hand at her. Poking my leftover fried rice.

“No no, I’m over her. Man I really thought we were going steady, not only she breaks up with me, she even drops me as a friend. Can you believe that?” This causes her to roll her eyes. It’s not like I haven’t told her this story thousands of times before. I am over her, It’s just upsetting to me about how she dropped me.

It’s silent for a moment before I spot a certain golden retriever. He walks past our table, not before waving at us and sitting with the girl of his dreams.

I stare at him for a moment before turning towards Sam. Which she gives me a knowing look.

“Yes.” Was all I said before she started smiling. She offers me a cookie, which I take. Placing it down on a napkin before continuing to poke my fried rice. I didn’t really have the appetite to eat, but I didn’t eat breakfast today either.

“If it makes you feel any better, me and Arnold broke up.” Now that was interesting. “Maybe you aren’t the only one not meant for love.”

I almost feel bad for her. They seemed like a good couple, even though Arnold was quite touchy feely with her (ewwww), they were cute. But they also were being swarmed a bit, I tried to give them alone time but I can’t help it. I hated being away from Sam.

“Why? You guys were good together.” Hopefully she didn’t mind if I pried a little into the reasoning.

She shrugs and puts her lunch away. Tying her black hair into a ponytail. “Too stressful, wasn’t ready to get into a relationship yet. I guess not after me and B broke up.”

Right. To me it was a bit strange how quick she got in a relationship with another guy. It’s almost like she had guys lining up for her. I was almost jealous.

But that made me realize something. Maybe I shouldn’t rush into another relationship. Give it time.

I felt bad. I always blamed my exes for why we broke up, and yet I never seemed to think about my contribution to the breakup.

“Johnny.” I lift my head and look back at her.

“It’s gonna be alright okay? There’s other people out there, don’t keep waiting for someone.”

That’s just what I needed to hear.

I didn’t eat today. I kind of regret that. Oh well. I’ll eat a salad and call it a day, I don’t feel great anyways.

I’ve always enjoyed the end of the day, cause I could go home.

As I make my way towards the band room, I hear a voice call out for me. Turning around, I find Rey again running up towards me. She grabs my arm and pants, catching her breath before she speaks.

“Primo, you walk too fast.” She stands up and I apologize. She waves a hand before speaking.

“It’s fine. Anyways, I wanted to know if you wanted to get something to eat.”

I was about to say that I was busy before she clings onto my arm. She says ‘please’ multiple times, sometimes in Spanish. Looking up at me with big brown eyes. I sigh and cave. I really didn’t want to eat, but when she looked at me like that I couldn’t help it.

“Fine. Querida.”

She gasps and giggles. Leaning onto me even more before dragging me off. Saying something about how she’s proud of my improvement.

I smile at her as she rants about something while dragging me to my car. I guess it wouldn’t hurt to treat myself every now and then. Especially when eating with a friend. Plus she seemed so happy, and I needed me a pick me up.

….

I forgot my horn.

Oh well.

I didn’t have an entire plot today, or lesson, just some moments from a random day that kind of stuck with me. But trust next chapter will have something a little more coherent and probably serious.

[enbeemagical]

I want to tell you all about this horse

IDs: three pictures of a beautiful bay horse with a white blaze and a purple halter /end IDs

Her actual name was pretty distinctive, but I mostly called her Coco or pretty girl. We were the same age. I started riding her when we were about 14 or 15, she'd been my uncle's and he was moving away.

I fell in love with her immediately.

I learned to ride bareback before I learned with a saddle, but when I started riding her I hadn't ridden without a saddle in years. Then one day I couldn't use the saddle. I told her I was nervous and asked her to please not let me fall. She snorted and shook her head, and true to her word, I didn't fall off for I think it was a year. (Then I fell rather spectacularly into a small tree.)

She loved to run. Sometimes I couldn't catch her because she kept running away. It was incredibly frustrating, but the good part is that when I rode her, I knew she wanted me to. Sometimes we'd go on the trail, and she'd walk so fast we outpaced the other horses in moments. I could feel her panting, but she wouldn't slow down- if I asked her to stop, she'd stop and then charge on. Other times we'd just go out, find a hill, and race up it. She had wings on her feet, just like the Phantom from Misty of Chincoteague.

On our last ride, we won a race against some friends. One minute thirty-two seconds.

I almost never rode her with a saddle. Usually a bridle, but sometimes I didn't want to bother, so I just used her lead rope. I trusted this horse with my life, I could lie down on her, ride backwards, text or take photos while riding, pretty much whatever the hell I wanted. She knew humans Just Do Crazy Stuff Sometimes. She was smart, you know? I could ride her reinless, even. I wasn't confident enough of that to ever ride her fully liberty, but I could drop the reins and steer with only my legs. Mostly she listened. It was really fun to show off.

Once, she tried kidnapping me. We went on a trail that had a little loop at the end. We finished the loop, got back to the main trail, and she didn't head home- she went back to do the loop again. The other riders with us worried. I nearly fell off from how hard I was laughing.

Her summer coat this year was way too thick. I clipped her for the first and only time this summer and then went on a trail ride with her and two others. Coco loved the new lack of fur. The other girls said they thought I was going to die. I didn't mind much being nearly run into so many trees, I was laughing the whole way.

Anytime I actually started to fall off her, though, she always slowed and stopped. I could never manage to haul myself back on, but at least I could drop from a standing still horse onto my feet instead of tumbling from a moving horse.

She learned how to steal carrots from my pocket. I have it on video.

She was smart, sweet, gorgeous, careful, fast, determined, and funny. I progressed so much while I was riding her and I didn't really notice, I just wanted to spend time with her.

She colicked yesterday and was gone before we got there. I have a lock of her mane now. I'm not quite sure what I'll do with it.

I miss her so much.

My beautiful girl. You deserved many more years than you got. I wish I could have petted your nose as you grew old, and given you carrots in your retirement. I wish I'd been forewarned, I wish I could have prepared, I wish I'd seen it coming. I wish you could have had one more September, one more apple, one more winged run up that hill, but I know it would never have been enough to keep my heart whole.

May your heaven be filled with more apples than you could possibly eat, hills that last as long as you want to run, and may your memory always be a blessing to everyone you knew. I know it is to me.

(ID: side view of Coco from the cheek up, ears pricked, wearing a silver baseball cap backwards /end)

I love you.

[symphonic-scream]

TELL ME ABT GORO AND MAKOTO TWINS AU. I ALREADY TREAT THEM AS WEIRD ASS SIBLINGESQUE RELATIONSHIP STUFF IN CANON SO GIMME THAT SIBLING DYNAMIC AMPLIFIED

UES OKAY

So they're fraternal twins. Goro is two hours older, as there were complications with Makoto and their mother. Makoto made it out, but, their mom passed. Goro jokes that Makoto killed their mom. She argues back that it was his giant ass baby head that killed her

For the first few years they're, actually good siblings. Hands held as they sleep as infants, babbling at each other happily. Goro cried on the first day of school when he discovered he was in a different class. They hugged after every school day back then

Constantly playing together and shit. There's a photo album that's just them, together. They were inseparable for a number of years

That. Changes though.

By the time they're in high school, they can barely stand each other. Goro, found their father. Hoping for validation and such, he left Makoto's side to do whatever Shido asked of him. Makoto, just kind of tried to focus on improving. Shes spent her whole life being second to her brother. She thinks it's about time she gets to be the one ahead

They spend more time in their own rooms. Silently sitting at opposite ends of the table. Glaring over their dinner. Goro doesn't want his sister to get in his way. He's going to make their father proud, have someone who sees him as an individual, not "Makoto's brother"

And. Makoto just wants someone, anyone to tell her she's enough. But if her own twin doesn't think she's good enough, who else would? She develops a little complex from it

Then, they reach their third year. The Niijima Twins are Shujin's shining idols. The friendly, smiley Detective Prince, and his twin sister, the icy Student Council President. Untouchable, many think

They're verbally abrasive to each other. At school, Goro has the polite tone, but he's mocking her. Using smart words to call her names. Makoto fumes and waits until they're home again to wrestle him to the ground, where they roll around and scrap like temperamental kittens

She calls him a bitch. He calls her detestable

Around the time she becomes a Phantom Thief, after the incident where Sae says she eats away at her life, "WHY CAN'T YOU BE MORE LIKE GORO?"

Makoto doesn't even make it to her room. She's kneeling in the hall, fighting back the tears, and she hears him stop right behind her. "Dear sister, crying over a few simple words? You really are weak."

"SHUT UP! YOU DON'T KNOW WHAT IT'S LIKE, TO NEVER BE ENOUGH! I'VE BEEN SECOND TO YOU MY WHOLE LIFE, WHY CAN'T YOU JUST LEAVE ME ALONE?!"

They don't talk for a week. Makoto becomes Queen, and. Some sort of confidence in herself starts to bloom. Goro begins to hate himself a little more, as Shido tells him to amp things up. He's more like Makoto than he thinks,

They are such toxic siblings for so long. And. In their Father's palace, Makoto gets her wish.

When the hatch closes, and they hear the shot, Queen falls to her knees, muttering soft "no, no-"

Joker is numb. Makoto is near hysterical. Someone ends up having to support her home. One of the others ends up telling Sae. The sisters fall asleep on the couch after crying for hours, hoping they'll wake up to their jerk brother making breakfast, cursing them out for buying only cheap coffee

He isn't there. He's gone

Makoto's twin brother, is dead

BUT SURPRISE THE THIRD SEMESTER HAOOENS AND HES BACK

They talk it out a bit. After, of course, his sister's crush him in a hug, Makoto smacks him a bit, Saw ruffles both their hair

Goro: did you miss me? Silly question, I know, after I've been so awful to you-

Makoto: of course I did. I'm incomplete without you. You're my brother, jackass. Despite how much you make me furious, I love you. If you die again, I'll kill you myself

It's a slow recovery from there. In Strikers, they take turns driving. At one point Goro breaks out his fake ID, getting them each a can of beer. They sit on the roof of the camper and slowly sip at them, talking civilly for the first time in. Forever

Just. Lots of shit like that.

[kusundei]

icfucking hate you holy shit. im going to lose my mind

nk bcuz god forbid i am ever remotely upset,??? god forbid yoy yell at me every single day. lash me. critique me. find somethint always even when i am trying my hardest to appease tou and i hahe been doing this for years. i tell myself nooo sam. noo dont do it its not worth it. anger is temporary and you are not your mother. anger is never ever justified but gd fuckinf damn it. i cant with you seriously. NO BCUZ IM SORRY I “BLAMED” YOU. i amjust upset. always. you make me so upset. because i dont fucking getit??? you lie. you give me hope. make me think of maybe youll spare me. maybe ill be okay and then you take it back and i can never fuckinf trust yoy and yoy patronize me. over and over and over and i will never make it out of this hell. no bcuz i have a car for what?,? IM SORRY THE BATTERY DIED? IM SORRY I MADE JT SEEM LIKE I WAS BLAMING YOU BCUZ ICWAS UPDET THAT YOU KEEP SAYING I HAVE NO MOTIVATION? god forbid yoy dont see me. yoy dont even ficking see me or acknowledge me till i have messed yp. its so annoying because you act like i an not looking for a job. like this isjt so hard for no fucking reason that i dont want to drive. me driving is the only reason i qant that job.

god forbid i will never repair my relatiknsgip with you. there is an invisible barrier that will always prevent me from being with you and i cannot make jt. HAVING GONE THROUGH THE FACEBOOK WITH AJAX MADE ME SO. saddened. despite the fact i enjoyed mocking myself all the photos made me so sad because i put up with it for so long in order to HAVE a mother. fo have a relatinship with you ajd i always gave you the benefit of the foubt. god forbid i acknowledge thepain i put you through but you will neher acknowledge what youve done to me. lord forbid you will never take yoyr side of the blane for the reason we r like this. make a new family and ignore your old one. have a good relationship with liam and do not put him through whag i deal with because clearly yoy do not desire to ever repair what we had. “the phone works both ways” yet i have prevented mtself from condemning you over and over and over and i silence mtself . to be with you . god forbid you ever do the same? that you will ever be pkay with me????

goodness i do not care yoy r pregnant. it does not relinquish you or justify the shit you do. youve been doing this my whole life i just wished thag matbe in the past 16 yrs you would open ur eyes and acknowledge even a little bit of it. JUST GOD. god. sell mt fucking car. just do it. im never making it out. yoy said it yourself. “i do not want you to drive” then so be it. “what do you plan to do with your life?” so much. i planned so much but i always have to take it back and rethink it through because shit will neger work put for me. “you have no motivation, are you even looking for a job? if you really wanted to drive so bad you couldve at least put some initiative into it” God forbid i ever put effort into things j do. yoy forced my hand?? forced me to rush?? just to take away the only motivation i had?????? and you do it over and over and over and i keep mindlessly believing toy sometimes. god how i keep getting my hopes up with you to be shut down over and over again . i NEED. this job. i NEED. to drive. i have motivation yoy just dont see it because you do not see me. you act all high and mighty like you know eberything about me and youre “always listening” yet you dont even know what classes i am taking? you had no idea who ajax was and had no idea i broke yp w jd till months after. you have no idea i heard yoy and jonathan that night and how badly it hurt me and ruined everything. you have no idea who i am. you do not understand me and my actions and in afraid you never truly will . god i appreciate it more when you just leave me. id rather yoy know nothing than act like you do cuz thags the worst fucking part??? you act lkke you know me sowell but yoy know nothinf at all???? its sickening. god forbid i will ever stand up for mtself and explain my actions but no yoy will never listen to me regardless. im jist. so. god . sell the damn car. fuck me over. ruin my life and the only motivation i hold because im apparently not doing enough. god forbid a job doesnt just appear out of nowhere. fod forbid i try my best all the time to be met with disappointment and ridicule over and over and you have never once. told me you were proud of me. god forbid i achieve something and it is “just expected”. you are my MOTHER. couldnt you at least act like you love me like you should???? that you support me??? tell me its okay. that im trying my best. at least try to understand me and dont condemn me lver and over when all ive done js try . and i am tetinf and god in sorry its just not good enough ever???

youve stopped now. asked me about ajax to try and lift my spirits but god. i will. never. recover. i will never make it out i will never be okay with you. youve ruined me pver and over. you are the biggest road block in my life. im just so tired . why do i even try to remain motivated like this ????? i just want it to end. give me that independence you speak so much of. allow me. spare me. because god forbid i cant take it anymore

[nancypullen]

The Ides of January

I'm supposed to start work tomorrow. A new start, a new job, hopefully the turning point in this lonely slog that has been our move to Maryland. I'm nervous, the way you are before the first day of school - not dreading it, knowing everything will be fine, but butterflies in my stomach over all of the unknowns. Will everyone be nice? Will I do/say something stupid on my first day? I know that I'm perfectly capable of doing this job, but I'm probably a bit rusty. Am I too old to do this? I'm no spring chicken. I spent all morning beating myself up mentally and then the universe took pity on me and sent... *s*n*o*w*. This was a peek out the back door around lunch time.

It's been steadily snowing ever since. It's 8:20 pm now and it's a marshmallow world out there (extra points if you can hear Dean Martin singing that). So, aside from the calming effect of watching those beautiful flakes drift down and make the world beautiful, my first day on the job might be a snow day! If you've known me for any amount of time, you understand how excited I get about snow days. It started when we moved from Alaska to Tennessee. I'd never heard of snow days. Our only rule in North Pole was when temps were colder than -65 (yes, 65 degrees below zero) school was optional. Our first winter in Tennessee saw a couple of snows, they didn't amount to much. After the first snow I woke the boys up for school, fed them breakfast, got them bundled up, and drove to the school. When we drove up the place looked deserted and I wondered if there'd been a bomb threat or something crazy. As I pulled up to the school I saw the director of the before/after school daycare program standing outside waving me off. I rolled my window down and asked what had happened and she looked at me like I was a lunatic and said, "It SNOWED, go home!" That was how I learned about snow days. To say we were delighted is an understatement. Unafraid of the weather, we went right to the grocery store for some snacks and then stopped at Blockbuster (yes, I'm that old) for games and a movie. My little guys weren't impressed with the dusting of snow, not enough to sled on or build a fort, but we felt like we had the run of the town that day. Once that happened we became weather hawks, just waiting for a hint of flurries or an icy patch on the road that might cancel school. We embraced all of the southern superstitions - flushing ice cubes, going to bed with our jammies on inside out, putting a spoon under a pillow, and of course, doing a snow dance. Even after my kids grew up and away, while I was still with the school district no one wished harder for snow days. Is it possible that I've just gotten my first Maryland snow day? I couldn't be more tickled. The assistant director emailed me this afternoon and said that closing for weather is a possibility and that he'd let me know in the morning. Guess who's flushing ice cubes and sleeping with her jammies inside out? I'm not alone in my joy over the snow. My sweet grandgirl heard that snow was on the way and put on her snow pants and went to the backyard to hunt snowflakes.

Her daddy snapped that through a window. I wonder if she caught any? She has a birthday in just 23 days. She'll be SIX. How did that happen? She's loving kindergarten, reading like a champ, and still on track to win an Oscar someday. Here's another snap I love, just browsing in the library.

Ball gown, warm pants underneath, high heels...I need to remember to tell her that this made me think of Belle in the Beast's library.

Okay, that's from the book shop in her village - same idea.

And this photo cracked me up. Her parents purchased a new vehicle, and you know how time consuming that is - even if you walk up with a bag of cash it seems to take forever. She waited patiently in full snow queen regalia. She loves that gold sequined "shawl" that I haven't told her was a holiday table runner.

Lest you think she only identifies as a princess, rest assured that she spends the bulk of her play time as special agent Carmen Sandiego.

She asked Santa for that outfit and he delivered. She loves it. She's solving crimes and catching bad guys while looking fabulous. Anyywayyyyy, I've drifted (see what I did there?) from snow days to costume changes. I suppose I should go upstairs and pick out a first day at work outfit just in case my ice cubes and jammies don't do the trick. I think I'll just close my eyes and reach into the closet. Nothing looks good anyway. I'll be tidy and I'll wear comfy shoes. I've got a lunch box and new water bottle, just like a kindergartner. I usually buy water by the case and guzzle it. After reading about all of the microplastics I'm drinking I decided to just get a Brita bottle with a filter and fill it with tap water. Of course I put a sticker on it so no one mistakes it for their bottle.

Annnnd I just realized that he looks like he's raising middle fingers. Oh no. He's not, I swear he's not. He's got his index and pinky fingers raised which can mean a couple of things. It's sign language for I love you, or it means he's rocking out at a concert. Good grief, why didn't I just put a flower sicker on it, or write my name in Sharpie? Maybe I could draw mittens on him. Now I'm nervous again. Pray for a snow day, y'all. I'm not ready. On that note, I'll bid you goodnight. Here's hoping that this new venture provides me with friendly interactions, interesting conversations, work that keeps me busy, plenty of blogging material, and let's not forget that tasty paycheck. It's all good, right? Right. Wherever you are I hope that you're toasty and warm. Stay safe, stay well. XOXO, Nancy

[meganc]

- travel -

i recently went on a school trip to barcelona (we visited salou, barcelona, catalonia and tarragona all in this trip) and it completely opened my eyes to how much i love travel and exploring places away from my home

i’ve been on holidays abroad with my family lots of times before but this is the first time i was given more freedom and independence especially when it comes to the likes of taking care of my own things and belongings and taking care of a hotel room (i shared with two friends.)

it really showed me how much i enjoy being out of my own country (ireland) and i genuinely yearn to be in another country learning about the culture and just soaking up the overall atmosphere of the foreign place now that i’ve come home

this has completely shifted my view on the future and i’ve found myself thinking about the future under a different light than i have before

i have thought things like “i can’t wait to grow up” and “i can’t wait to be older” not wishing my youth away but being excited to turn 18 and be able to travel by myself and choose where i want to go whether in ireland or in another country

exposure really does bring knowledge because if i hadn’t have gone on that trip i would still view my future in a way that i’ll always be with my family at home and i’ve never viewed it in a way that id leave the country often and now that i can see that alternative pathway i really enjoy my outlook on the future and see it as a thing to be excited for rather than the dread i used to feel for adulthood

anyways rant over here’s some photos i took in spain 😚

📍barcelona

📍tarragona

📍 montserrat

📍 park güell

this video was taken in barcelona (genuinely felt like miami or somewhere in america!)

[yukipri]

Hi, I hate that I have to tell you this, but I saw one of your drawings reposted on Facebook, then I searched your name and found even more.

Here are the links:

https://www.facebook.com/groups/146050107039735/posts/469317488046327

https://www.facebook.com/TheBookofBobaFans/posts/pfbid02XRu8ubDkoXnAD6P56tpS2E7pQQpuh6ZAfBNoqW1HjVQ5UNoMmPSoVLFkcmZbZorfl

https://www.facebook.com/groups/starwarstimeline/posts/609931117502908

https://www.facebook.com/bobafettfanclub/posts/pfbid02iqiJhkuzivqkh4xkTrgPpQUpPZUdqs2As3gm8m47oVUNP7HmoEc8aYfdKnpJkNnCl

https://www.facebook.com/starwarslafuerza/posts/pfbid0WcqAPTq47B7gbSSt7Czn8nSBWVrPTYyZh593Ck6LzvZfJZAxFHwNdRM4JnjZ4LC4l

https://www.facebook.com/permalink.php?story_fbid=pfbid02knrYixTcMSJs6iePXZwXK8UEMnE9qw8L7KMHuBKgVrQG5cLkDCyemKdT3ntmjMpZl&id=147105415870887

https://www.facebook.com/electric.luxray/posts/pfbid0iZsw6q1wP3q1oCMLVz6xBLr8yMHmZUcnXzeVuL5yLV8Kt2QFv9VCLovW9TuRtaAal

https://www.facebook.com/bobafettfanclub/posts/pfbid02iqiJhkuzivqkh4xkTrgPpQUpPZUdqs2As3gm8m47oVUNP7HmoEc8aYfdKnpJkNnCl

https://www.facebook.com/Shahd.khaled86/posts/pfbid02Xtf1hF8YFeYrNaU5Pj8QWCdnU2EZnyadyf7Wki49FCj5mASKtscQZ2TbjshzL9MXl

https://www.facebook.com/ONE.PIECE.LAW.TW/posts/pfbid02JiWjeQtaHngLwWcT2JsF2Qj9VyLE3yDbLhiy1kX8wDNpUkSfVVTYWFVCmRg9gEEZl

https://www.facebook.com/ShipsBetterThantheTitanic/posts/pfbid02sxHmUfqC2s9iTXQViVRLSJrLMZBPMkXhMn9t6xr3xTLRtvYCqTKyzXZjLbHZCpWyl

https://www.facebook.com/BananaxFishbone/posts/pfbid0PiU4TicNYTgsRsDiytnt2eLbu3SgCQxFz8hLV1Rjk8mpFG2nta9HfGuX52UDqnMJl

https://www.facebook.com/InterconnectingFandoms/posts/pfbid02XRnoXPTysjvm4EMHYqhcugYepcscma8d2JpQW7fi81EvJT77tcvbPEAtazJDtwPrl

https://www.facebook.com/personajeszukulentos/posts/pfbid0mowNrb2kC7hefaZE5iFe8rveM42TPgUFhEyqrNoGFMaDmMPAPxwDSbnP4cocYcTal

https://www.facebook.com/que.eros/posts/pfbid06ri6DEU8rR4UihHpy1w8zeC2Q6TicBGaXVef6jZod5FCSykb8mfnRQ8hNPSxXT5Al

https://www.facebook.com/yurionicethailandfanclub/posts/1406017856106563

https://www.facebook.com/sportsanimeunlimited/posts/pfbid02YmYmWvUciQ2cJTrT6VaBYhE46wGnieAuuvB3VRKTsBhckJcezXLWQe3ZKgJkAiZbl

https://www.facebook.com/que.eros/posts/pfbid0uyUQhMZXc4Y3sZyRZWtwGXsSxPiSAaxCg3XtJ6TdoaUfSyteQQqb9sLpKrM51E1zl

https://www.facebook.com/YOICentroamerica/posts/pfbid02iPHTVwudtuysjN49A3DZLMsKZmjNzf6ikKKvK9y7XFn2rJNQdAx9kRjHmdUYpk7Nl

https://www.facebook.com/bluebananauk/photos/a.438996481667/10152977102121668/

Hey there Anon!

Thank you so, so much for sending me these links, and apologies for not getting back to you right away! I finally made the time to file the DMCAs, and have reported the links you've sent me for copyright violation. Hopefully they'll be removed soon!

(the only links I did not report were those from the Boba Fett Fan Club, as I'm familiar with their organization. I would have preferred if they'd solely shared links/asked permission instead of reposting, but I don't consider them quite the same as the other links)

Thank you so much for taking the time to find and share these links with me. Even though it still took me well over an hour to find all the corresponding links and file the report, you saved me the immense amount of time and mental anguish that would have been caused from having to search for them myself. I really appreciate it!

A reminder to everyone to please not repost art that is not yours. If you want to share it, please use the means available on that site to help amplify the creator (in Tumblr's case, reblogs). If you wish to share it on another site, you can ask for permission, or just share the link without reposting the art itself so your followers can enjoy the work on the creator's own platform.

Art theft is more stressful than ever now, and having to deal with it takes away valuable time and energy from actual creation.

Thanks again!!

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