#mistrust

[bruneburg]

feel free to caption this

[danskjavlarna]

Source details and larger version.

Cartoonists making faces through time.

[stanford-photography]

Suspicious Mind By Jeff Stanford, 2024 Buy prints at: https://jeff-stanford.pixels.com/

[snippetsnitch]

#12 – Help me

(❗TW: Implied torture, Wounds❗)

"Why should we help you?", [Sidekick] asked, looking at [Henchperson] suspiciously, "The last time we met, you tried to kill us."

[Henchperson] winced, like they were reminded of an awkward detail of their teen years instead of their attempt to murder [Hero] and [Sidekick] a few weeks ago.

"It's more complicated than that", they muttered, avoiding [Sidekicks] and [Heros] sceptical gazes. They nervously fumbled with their hands. [Sidekick] frowned. Their foe looked jittery. They had dark circles around their eyes. Had they lost weight...?

"I don't see anything complicated here", [Hero] retorted, never tearing their gaze away from [Henchperson], "You are working for [Villain]. You kill people in their name. You are our enemy-"

[Henchperson] made a frustrated noise. "Oh my god, would you just fucking listen for one goddamn second?!", their enemy cried out, angrily throwing their hands in the air.

They took a deep breath, apparently trying to calm themself. "[Villain], they..-", [Henchperson] started again, looking around nervously, "They hurt people..-"

"Yeah, no shit", [Hero] deadpanned, "That's why we fight them, you know?"

"No, you don't understand...", [Henchperson] whispered faintly. They looked haunted. Scared. A weird feeling started to rise in [Sidekicks] gut. "What do we not understand?", they asked mildly, growing tense when [Villains] subordinate shuddered.

With shaking hands, [Henchperson] grabbed their own shirt and slowly rose it to show lacerated and broken skin.

"Shit-", [Hero] swore, eyes wide with shock.

[Henchpersons] torso was covered with dark bruises, cuts and burns. Some of them looking like they had been inflicted just a few hours ago. A choked sound escaped their foes' mouth as they looked up to [Hero] and [Sidekick] through tearful eyes.

"Please...", [Henchperson] whispered, tears falling freely now, "Please help me."

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) Chapter 8

The week that followed was hard. 

Bumblebee did all he could, but you’d found a way to avoid him at every turn. The days he did run into you. You didn’t bat an eye in his direction. You walked right past him in school hallways and sat the furthest from him in classes. Sam and Mickeala were receiving the same treatment. 

He never thought it was possible to feel heartbreak when he physically didn’t even have a heart. 

Nothing felt the same and it was all his fault. 

If he’d just said something you would not have activated that machine. You would have been safe that night and you would no doubt have protected his secret. 

Every trip that they took, Bumblebee could not focus. It had gotten so bad that Optimus had no choice but to take him out of the field. 

“I can fight!” Bumblebee insisted. 

Optimus shook his head. 

“You are distracted. We cannot afford a casualty. You need time, old friend.” 

He wanted to punch something. So he retreated to Sam’s place. What else could he do? When he made it to Sam’s house he wasn’t even surprised to see them sitting on the porch. Both of them had their books out next to the table, but from their expressions, it was clear nothing was being done. Bee walked up the step, and Sam lifted his head. 

“You’re back?” 

Bee nods, turning his head. 

“Optimus said that I need a break. He won’t let me back until I’m focused. “ 

Sam couldn’t say that this was a surprise. Mickeala flipped through one of her books, and a flier fell out. Bee’s brows knitted, and he picked up the paper. The information of the school dance printed with beautiful colors. 

“We..were supposed to go together..” 

He couldn’t believe how quickly everything had fallen apart.

Bee crunched the paper into his palm, turning around and taking off down the street. 

“Bee!!” 

Sam yelled after him, and Mikaela merely shook her head. It was obvious where he was headed. Telling Bee to give you space would not discourage him. But they knew that you needed to sort through all of this. Your feelings, pain. It was their fault. Sam took full responsibility. All they could do was wait until you were ready to talk about it. 

~~~

“Honey, would you like some pie?” 

“No thanks grandma!” 

You smile at her as you walk into the kitchen. When her eyes caught the sling on your shoulder you could see the visible worry. 

“I’m okay grandma. It was my fault. I’m just glad John didn’t fire me after I trashed his junkyard. “ 

“I keep telling you that playing around in that place alone is dangerous. You’re lucky all you had was a dislocated shoulder. Oh what would your parents think if they saw you.” She ran a hand through her hair and you just gave her one arm hug.

“They’d be overjoyed that you’re still filling my tummy with delicious pies.” 

She huffed. 

“Flattery will get you nowhere. I’m going to put this in the fridge.” She held up the remainder of the pie and you pulled away after she left a kiss on your forehead. 

“Are you still fighting with your friends. “ The topic made your stomach twist. 

“It’s complicated."

Your grandmother laughed. 

“That’s what us adults say when we don’t want to deal with tough situations.” 

You were annoyed at how right she was. You didn’t want to deal with it. Not at all. 

“If you all really care about each other, you’ll find a way to work it out.” 

She was right, of course she was. 

“You know you’re like a fortune cookie sometimes.” 

“A very youthful fortune cookie!” She called over her shoulder. You giggle, nodding in agreement. The knock at your door pulls your focus. 

“I’ll get it!” 

You move towards the door, and when you open it, you don’t expect the teen.

[bloody-bee-tea]

BeeTober 2023 Day 7 - Interview

Albedo has barely settled into his newly assigned laboratory when the door is being flung open with no regards for propriety. Albedo is upset over the entrance but by no means surprised.

He was only waiting for the other Captain to corner him ever since he saw the star-shaped pupil.

“So,” the Captain drawls out as he closes the door behind him and Albedo guesses the motion is supposed to be intimidating.

The effect is missed on him though, since it’s not as if anyone in Mondstadt could really hurt him. Besides, so far everyone has been really nice and accommodating to him and Albedo is willing to take his chances, even with the barely concealed fury in the other’s eye.

“Hello,” Albedo gives back as politely as he can, turning towards the other man to give him his full attention. “What can I help you with?”

“Cut the crap,” is the hissed answer he gets. “What are you doing here? What’s your objective?”

Albedo tilts his head at that.

“Is this an interrogation?” he asks, because he just talked to Jean the other day and she asked him all kinds of questions too. He thought he got that out of the way.

“Think of it more as an interview of sorts,” the man answers, his voice not at all friendly and Albedo sighs.

“Well, Jean started the interview with an introduction.”

It’s not a subtle dig at his manners and it seems it takes the other Captain off guard because he blinks at him for a moment.

“Unbelievable,” the man mutters as he rolls his eye. “Kaeya. Cavalry Captain.”

“Nice to make your acquaintance, Captain Kaeya,” Albedo gives back, pleasant as everything, and he has to admit it’s kind of enjoyable to see how he gets under Kaeya’s skin. “My name is Albedo.”

“No last name?” Kaeya sneers out and Albedo frowns.

“I guess the Acting Grand Master put Kreideprinz down but that’s more of an informal title than anything else.”

Since it’s already put down in official documents Albedo doesn’t see a problem with sharing that with Kaeya, though he still dislikes the fact that Kaeya doesn’t provide his own last name.

“What are you here for, Albedo Kreideprinz? What’s your mission?” Kaeya asks, discarding every last shred of politeness and Albedo narrows his eyes when the temperature in the room drops slightly.

“I could ask you the same, Kaeya,” Albedo gives back, not willing to discuss anything with him.

“I’m not the one running around with proof of my allegiance out in plain sight,” Kaeya hisses, his gaze dropping to the star on Albedo’s neck.

“No, you just show it to everyone who bothers to lock gazes with you,” Albedo shots back and sees how Kaeya flinches back. “Besides, it’s hardly a proof of allegiance if it’s a birth mark imprinted on me by my mother.”

He’s not about to go into the fact that he’s not entirely human, but this Kaeya could mean trouble for him if he goes around telling everyone that he’s from Khaenri’ah. He would probably have to explain why he knows it, which he seems unwilling to do, but Albedo is not going to take that chance.

“Right. Who is your mother?” Kaeya asks him next and Albedo knows that the lack of a proper surname must bother him; Khaenri’ah only has a few stablished families and it would be easier for Kaeya to figure out what Albedo is up to if he had one, that is for sure.

But the same can be said for Albedo.

“What’s your last name?” Albedo asks instead of answering him and he sees how Kaeya works his jaw in anger.

“What does it matter to you?”

“What does it matter to you who my mother is?”

“You could be a danger to this city!”

“As could you. Where’s the difference?”

“I’ve lived here for years, you hardly have a connection to this town, so what would you care?”

“People here were nice to me,” Albedo says, in a tone that makes it clear he’s excluding Kaeya. “Sometimes that’s all it takes, isn’t it?”

It seems he has hit a nerve with that, because Kaeya falls quiet, clearly contemplating if revealing his last name is worth it.

Albedo doesn’t mention it, but he can probably just look it up in the official register.

“Alberich,” Kaeya finally gets out and now his reluctance makes a whole lot more sense.

Rhinedottir has kept Albedo out of court, hasn’t formally introduced him to anyone before they left but of course Albedo knows that the Alberich clan is the current ruling family.

Albedo’s gaze is drawn to Kaeya’s eyepatch and while before it didn’t make sense why he would hide one when the star and therefore proof of his ancestry is so visible in the other it comes together now. In every ruling family, there’s one born with the sun in his gaze, destined for more.

Albedo suspects it would draw attention, even up here.

He knows he should probably fall to a knee, or at least bow—Kaeya is a prince after all—but Albedo finds that he couldn’t care less. He didn’t care when he was still in Khaneri’ah and he definitely doesn’t care now.

Here, they are on equal footing.

But since Kaeya answered him, it’s only fair that he does the same.

“Gold. She’s my mother.”

Kaeya pales at that.

“You mean your creator,” he then whispers out and Albedo shouldn’t be surprised that he knows these things about Rhinedottir when she was working for the royal family most of Albedo’s life.

“Did she plant you here as some kind of bomb?” Kaeya demands to know and Albedo wonders the same, though of course he’s not going to mention that.

“She—” he hesitates because the assignment she gave him feels to personal to share but then again it’s just a general question. “She asked me to figure out the meaning of life,” Albedo admits with a shrug. “Whatever that entails.”

“Right,” Kaeya scoffs out, clearly not believing Albedo a single word he says. “Just remember this: if you hurt this city or anyone who lives in it, I’m going to make you pay.”

“That’s rich, coming from the hope of the Nation. What are you going to do if your family comes for you?” Albedo shoots back, because he will not be intimidated by a man who’s allegiance might be even more unclear than Albedo’s own.

“They won’t,” Kaeya says with more confidence than he clearly feels. “Anyway, don’t talk to me again,” Kaeya calls over his shoulder has he makes his way out of Albedo’s lab and Albedo is left staring after him.

“You came talking to me,” he then says into the now empty room, completely over this entire interaction and he vows to never talk to this irritating Captain ever again.

~*~*~

Albedo wakes with a smile and soft kisses being peppered over his face.

“What’s got you all smiling first thing in the morning?” Kaeya whispers, his every word accompanied by a kiss and Albedo laughs.

“What else am I going to do when you dote on me like that?” he gives back and pulls Kaeya in for a real kiss, morning breath be damned.

“You smiled even in your dream,” Kaeya says when they part and Albedo’s smile widens more, if that is even possible.

“I dreamed about our first meeting,” he cheekily says and watches how Kaeya’s eyes go wide.

Albedo loves the fact that Kaeya doesn’t feel the need to hide his eye around Albedo anymore and he breathes a kiss over the exposed eye.

“And that has you smiling? Our first meeting was so bad!”

“Because you were an unreasonable brat,” Albedo laughs out and pulls Kaeya into a hug. “An unreasonable brat who was scared,” he whispers into Kaeya’s hair and enjoys the way Kaeya hugs him close.

“I was shocked and panicking,” Kaeya admits. “And I apologized.”

“More than once,” Albedo agrees, kissing Kaeya’s hair. “And there was nothing to forgive.”

“But you did anyway, right?”

“But I did anyway, because you wouldn’t shut up about it,” Albedo says, slightly tugging on Kaeya’s hair. “But seriously, you were scared for the home you found for yourself. And you knew nothing of me. It was a reasonable course of action you took.”

“It was childish and immature,” Kaeya whines into Albedo’s neck. “Why did you have to dream about that? Couldn’t you dream about the time I confessed to you?”

“Because that was less childish and immature?” Albedo shoots back and laughs when Kaeya groans and tries to pull away.

Not that Albedo would let him.

“Shut up,” Kaeya grumbles. “You agreed to a date, so I must have done something right.”

“You did many things right before then, otherwise I wouldn’t have agreed,” Albedo tells him and tightens his arms around Kaeya. “I already loved you before that first date.”

Kaeya melts in his arms at that confession and when he peers up at Albedo he can’t help but to lean in for another kiss.

“Lucky me, I guess,” Kaeya mumbles when they part and Albedo smiles at him.

“Lucky us,” he corrects him and then pulls the blanket back over both of them.

There’s no need for them to get up yet and Albedo would rather spend some more time like this. And since there’s no harm in indulging that particular wish, he vows to keep them in bed for as long as he can today.

Everyone else can deal without them for a day.

[fluffybird1]

Obi is so mad I trimmed her nails

[pryce0]

A Modern Stranger - Chapter 7

gif by; unknown

word count; 1,371

a/n: HI!! i’m back, but unfortunately this chapter is filled more than anything. i’m desperately trying to crawl myself out of writers block and i needed to write something. i will be trying to write more. im so sorry!!

PREVIOUS: here

NEXT: here

MASTERLIST: here

—————

I’m not so sure what’s making me feel off about Dutch, but I plan on addressing that at a later time. His whole entire being just makes me so damn uneasy. The way his eyes glint, the way the corners of his lips curl up into a smirk.. I can’t stand it.

Anyway, right now Charles and Arthur are leadin’ me into a woodsy area. I was real concerned about bears, but they said we would have to move more up north to find them. I glance between the two men; I first look at Charles. His hair is partially tied back and it reaches his mid-back. He carries a bow on his shoulder with a pack of arrows on his other, as well as a hunting rifle. I glance at Arthur, whose face is partially obscured by his obnoxiously big hat. He also has a hunting rifle. I hum quietly to myself as barely any words are exchanged. What am I even supposed to say in this situation? I’m still processing everything that I’ve been through so far- going through. My boots crunch the leaves scattered across the grass and I look around. I watch little squirrels scatter around, some going up trees or going behind rocks. It’s so odd to watch little creatures that exist in the past and your own present behave the same way. You almost expect them to be different, look different or act different. That’s what happened with certain dog breeds, right? Like with pugs, they were taller and longer, with longer snouts. Their faces weren’t smushed in as if Rapunzel hit them with her fryi-

“[Name]??” Arthur’s gruff voice suddenly pulls me back to reality, the sounds of nature quickly returning which I never even realized left my hearing. I blink and look at him, a nervous laugh escaping my chest. “Sorry,” I murmur. “I left reality for a second.”

“Clearly.” He snorts, although his tone doesn’t hold any anger. “This is a perfect place to hunt deer.” Charles interjects. “Although it’s an important skill to be able to hunt, it’s also important to use every part of the animal. Even if the pelt is poor in quality, you can use it or you can sell it for profit.”

I nod in acknowledgment. Right, it’s a big Native American practice to respect animals. I solemnly think to myself that Charles would be furious at the world if he came to my present.

…Should I be considering this my present instead of my past now? Have I hit that point yet? I can’t help but allow my eyes to linger on Arthur. He almost doesn’t seem real, like I’m in virtual reality or stuck in a really detailed lucid dream. The light howling of the wind and chirping of birds being masked by Charles’ low voice reminds me that this is all real, though. I can see every imperfection on Arthur’s face and neck, I see he's tucking his hair behind his ear but it’s slowly falling out of place. I see the brown strands of hair falling from his hat, how he hasn’t shaved in a bit. How his nose is red from the sun, God, I can even see the lines in his forehead, the small bump on his nose.

He’s real pretty, huh?

“I have some.. herbivore bait here.” Arthur grumbles, opening his satchel and taking out a small tin of bait that’s tied shut with a few pieces of rope, clearly opened before. “You’ll also want some cover scent lotion. Luckily, I already had some in my bag.” Charles remarks as he takes out a small tin. This tin looks like hair pomade tins you’d find at salons. “Ah.. So, we bait the animal and we wear the scent lotion thing so it doesn’t smell us? Got it.” I mutter as Arthur walks ahead of us into a more open area, untying the ropes on the bait tin and opening it. The lid is seemingly damaged. I drag my eyes over to Charles who approaches me, cover lotion in hand. His lips part slightly, hesitancy clear in his stance and his voice when he finally speaks. “I, uh.. Is it alright if I help you out with the lotion? It takes a while to get a hang of the correct areas on yourself.” He asks, pausing between his sentences. I laugh a bit, but honestly it’s to get rid of my nervousness. I don’t know Charles like that, but I don’t think I have much of a choice. “Sure, Charles.” I respond, tilting my head up. “Go ahead.” I glance at Arthur who is behind Charles, shaking the tin to allow a few pieces to fall onto the ground into a situated pile. I nervously glance back at Charles who is biting his lip ever so slightly, his fingers covered in a layer of the lotion. It’s a white substance, but consistency is more like sunscreen lotion. He glances at my eyes in a nervous way before his hands reach my neck, pressing the lotion into the sides of my neck. I freeze for a moment as his hands are large and they’re warm, fingertips callused. I refuse to shiver even though I want to so badly. His touch is so gentle as he rubs the lotion into my neck, making sure to get every inch of skin he has to touch. Charles clears his throat after a good 30 seconds, offering the tin to me. “You can do your wrists yourself, it’s much easier on your wrists than your neck.”

I wordlessly swipe my fingers in the tin and quickly—but thoroughly— rub the lotion into my wrists. I shiver from the blow of wind against my neck. “Thanks, Charles.” I smile softly at the man, hoping to put the man at ease. He looks like he’s about to keel over and die, or somethin’. So tense he could be a statue. He only nods, and he seems just so out of character. Did I make him uncomfortable?

“I got the bait sorted out.” Arthur huffs as he shoves the tin into his satchel. Arthur grabs the tin from Charles and wordlessly applies it to his neck so rough like; smacking his hands against his neck and vigorously applying it. I chuckle to myself. I guess men aren’t so different, even in different time periods. I’ve seen my male friends apply lotion and sunscreen like that countless times. I let out a big and quiet sigh before I turn and go to a big rock nearby. Soon, both Charles and Arthur join me. I don’t hear their conversation, but I hear Arthur’s quiet snort as if a joke was made. “So, are we doing this now?” I ask, crouching down right after they do the same. Charles nods, taking the bow off from his shoulder. “There are several different types of arrows, the main ones that you’ll need to have on hand are small game arrows, normal arrows, and poison arrows. We’ll focus on small game arrows for today. Arthur here will show you how to work a rifle, and after that I'll show you how to use the bow with small game arrows.” Charles says softly, pulling the string back on his bow, the frame of the bow creaking slightly under the pressure. The string definitely looks like it’ll fuck up your fingers, makes sense why his hands are so callused. I glance at Arthur who has an unreadable expression and once we make eye contact, he quickly grabs his rifle, standing it up by putting the butt end of the rifle on the leaves below, his hand gripping the forestock. “Do y’know anythin’ about guns?” Arthur gruffs out and at first it sounds super fucking rude, but I take a deep breath and remind myself that seems like just how he is. “Yeah.. Very basic stuff, but I know.” He hums quietly and gets closer to me, one knee on the ground, his other foot planted firmly. Arthur picks up the gun and nods to the rifle, which prompts me to grab the rifle.

“Y’better learn quick, or Charles will hafta to take over. Got it?”

..Someone’s grumpy today.

[astrumasylum]

Why do I hold back the evidence

And the pathways I've created?

I've seen it happen every time before

why would this be different?

Feel like I'm gaslighting myself

Into thinking I'm the only one

Your eyes are tired

Your mind wanders

The look in your eyes isn't the same (when you look at me)

You talk over me, when I wear that blue dress (you used to be speechless)

I may not know words

But I can crunch the numbers

The odds of you finding someone better

Will never be in my favor

My eyes are tired

I'm not enough

The look in your eyes isn't the same (when you look at me)

You talk over me, when I wear that blue dress (you used to be speechless)

I bet she wears red in the winter

You lose track of time

Consumed by her hourglass figure

As I lay here and die

Will I survive (I wish you would look at me)

Will I survive (when she takes my place)

[officialyourdailyinspiration]

Trust in the LORD

5 Trust in the LORD with all thine heart, and lean not unto thine own understanding; 6 in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and He shall direct thy paths. — Proverbs 3:5-6 | Third Millennium Bible (TMB) Third Millennium Bible, New Authorized Version, Copyright 1998 by Deuel Enterprises, Inc. All rights reserved. Cross References: Numbers 7:5; Numbers 9:20; 1 Chronicles 28:9; Nehemiah 7:5; Psalm 37:3; Proverbs 11:5; proverbs 16:3; Psalm 37:5; Proverbs 22:19; Proverbs 23:4; Proverbs 28:26; Jeremiah 9:23; Philippians 4:6; James 1:5; Numbers 9:20

[lookthroughthelinds]

Lungs rattling, gasping for air

Body shaking, this isn’t fair

Heart in pieces

I’ll never be the same.

[yudzukii]

I'm torn between trust and mistrust

And the thought of my betrayal of you

Fills me with guilt, shame and disgust.

I'm so sorry that I hurt you bad and

I wish I wouldn't have done that to you

So I tear my heart apart in deep regret.

[etherealsign282]

Sorry I actually got triggered and can no longer trust you based on your poor treatment of me even though according to you is bc you're 'mentally ill', that wasn't very "also mentally ill but I'm only a silly lil doormat used by others for some form of control so it should be okay, bc I'm just perceived as oversensitive and soft in the community, and that isn't as important as your issues" of me

[mistrustmusic]

I'll be playing live at Future Yard in Birkenhead on Sunday 19th November 2023! Free entry & doors open 5pm! Everyone welcome! No ticket required!

[thatstudyblrontea]

you were with me all day; stood with me, sat with me, talked with me, looked at me, ate with me, drank with me; and yet, your last act was to clutch for a monster, not only an innocent man, but the most pitiable of all men.

Herman Melville, Benito Cereno

[skylarmoon71]

Bumblebee (Transformers) Chapter 7

The events of that night were still reeling in your mind.

The ride back to your house was completely quiet.

You weren’t sure what to say.

How to feel.

It’s possible that you were suffering from shock.

It all just felt..numb.

Like your mind had conjured it all.

Optimus’s trunk pulled up, and you all stepped out. Your feet touched the pavement, and when you felt the pain run through your body, you held back a wince.

“It’s real.”

You weren’t suffering from delusions. This was real life.

Your friendship of almost a year was an entire lie. Everything about them was made up. Bumblebee wasn’t some long lost cousin with a sickly father. Sam Witwicky wasn’t just a high school dork. Nothing about either or them was fully normal. It all felt like a sham. Like you were on one of those television shows where the host jumps out and says you were pranked. Maybe it would have been easier to digest if this was one big sick prank.

Bumblebee and Sam looked unsure of what to say.

Sam finally spoke up when you got to the door.

“(Y/N) I..we just wanted to say sorry for how it all turned out.”

Your hand gripped the door knob.

“Was it fun?”

Your question confused him, and when you turned around, it made sense.

“WAS IT FUN WATCHING ME RUN AROUND LIKE AN IDIOT!!”

You probably shouldn’t have been screaming at that hour of the night, but you couldn’t help it. They’d made a fool out of you and it hurt. More than your physical injuries that you now would have to lie to your grandmother about.

“We were trying to protect you.” Bumblebee insisted.

“I wish I could believe that. If we’d known each other for weeks I would understand. But it’s been months. Almost a year. I spent months raving about aliens and the government and symbols when the truth was right in front of me. You all knew how much this meant and you continued to lie straight to my face. You didn’t trust me.”

Sam looked away and all Bumblebee wanted to do at that moment was run to you and tell you how much he did trust you.

How much he cared about you.

“I don’t ever want to see any of you again. You’re not my friends. Not anymore.”

Bumblebee’s eyes widened at the statement. When you moved to walk into the house he panicked.

“(Y/N) wait..Wait..WAIT!! PLEASE I’M SORRY!!”

You shook your head.

“Sorry isn’t good enough. “

You pulled the door open, slamming it shut when you entered. Bumblebee could just stare.

Some part of him prayed that this was all a terrible nightmare.