#pardon my grammar

[heyhalo]

If laios and kabru have a shapeshifter, kabru's shapeshifter of laios will be like this:

And laios' shapeshifter of kabru will be like this:

[manic-pixie-aquarius]

yall i'm writing a post season 4 fix-it-fic of sorts where The Party goes into the upside-down after finding out Eddie is still alive, let me know what you think about the opening scene!! thank u

“Who’s Eddie?” Will asked Robin in a discreet tone, he didn't wanna disturb the rest of the party who all looked visibly upset.

“He's the leader of their… you know, that game you guys play, he’s in that club, Hellfire” she replied

Wills face dropped, “oh god” he realized just how significant this loss was when he searched the faces of his friends. Dustin looked like he had been crying for hours and no longer had any tears to shed, he looked aged. Lucas looked so tired, he had slept overnight at the hospital, watching over Max, his girlfriend who was paralyzed, of course he was upset about Eddie too, but he was just too tired. Mike looked at the floor with a dark but contemplative expression on his face.

Will walked over to Mike, leaning on the truck behind them, “hey it’s gonna be okay” he said with a hand on his friends shoulder. Mike met his eyes “you're right” he said with a bit too much pep, causing everyone to look his way. Will dropped his hand as the boy beside him took on the stance of someone about to make a big speech.

“Are we forgetting how long Will survived in the upside down?!”, a rhetorical question, spoken like a true politician.

“Yeah but not everyone is like Will” Nancy spoke.

Mike looked at the ground, remembering that his sister didn't have the privilege of being reunited with her best friend like he did. He glanced back up to give her an apologetic look.

“I get what you're saying but it's like the upsidedown was sparing me, for some reason it wanted me as it's host” Will said trying to get his friend to drop the conspiracy.

“And the mind flayer successfully attached itself to me so…”

“Will’s right Mike, I saw Eddie die” Dustin said with a look of disbelief on his face, disbelief at the fact his taller friend was being so foolish.

“Listen kid, I think you're just going through the stages of grief and right now is…denial” Robin tried to say as gently as possible. She shot a confused look at Steve, pleading for a reassuring nod in return, which he gave her.

Nancy went inside the cabin and passed El on the way in. Everyone’s eyes shifted towards her meanwhile Will scooted over so she could stand between him and Mike.

“How are you feeling?” Mike asked

“fine” she replied, moving past her boyfriend to be next to her brother instead. This was confusing to both of the boys. El’s eyes wandered around confused, “what is going on?” she questioned.

“Mike is being way too optimistic insisting Eddie is still alive so i'm going inside because there is no way im about to willingly enter the upsidedown just for the possibility that Eddie is still alive” Lucas said before patting Dustin’s shoulder and heading to the cabin.

“I could check” El offered.

“No! El you don't have to I don't want you to see something bad” Mike said.

“I can make my own decisions, and I have seen plenty worse…like you burping very loud” she deadpanned.

The remainder of the group started to burst out laughing for the first time since all this chaos started.

“That was a major invasion of my privacy” Mike stated looking embarrassed, his girlfriend was completely unbothered.

Dustin reached into his back pocket to pull out a picture of the Hellfire Club before approaching El.

“Thats him” he said pointing to Eddie. Will peaked over having never seen the man, “wow, nice hair” he commented.

“yeah, nice hair” Mike sighed wistfully, they all looked at him in suspicion, all of them minus El who stroked her buzzed head, wishing her hair would grow faster.

[sab-teraa]

this whole Real Housewives Maria vs Sorisha situation being the biggest scandal to rock the SA-Indian community in years is absolutely sending me 😭😩

[doe-prince]

Prologue for Jet and Harley is posted. You can read it on deviantart or comicfury.

Link for supporting my comics!

[whumpeteerscrankli]

Scientist Whumper has been working on his greatest achievement, a superhuman, for years. Initially, he had no reason for creating and enhancing Whumpee, aside from the usual “Research purposes” that motivated most of his other experiments.

Imagine how ecstatic he is to hear that a high-ranking government official is in need of protection. Imagine how pleased he is to be granted the opportunity to finally give Whumpee a purpose.

[witchinatree]

the magnus archives is officially too much of an influence on my life

i've been learning french for almost a month now and it means i'm saying "my name is" a lot more and every time i say it or read it my mind just goes to "je mappelle martin blackwood et je suis non solitaire plus"

or like when i'm practicing spanish!!!!! what the fuck!!!!! "me llamo martin blackwood y yo no soy solitario nunca màs"

GET OUT OF MY HEAD.

LEAVE ME ALONE [flashbang] AAAAGHHHH (/ref)

[plasticfangtastic]

Can we Be Lonely Together? Ch. 2

A Homelander x Stalker!Reader fanfic

This is a gender neutral fanfic but deep down its just a Homelander X Joe Goldberg fic do with that as you wish. This is a slow burn fic btw

PLZ FORGIVE ME I DON'T KNOW HOW TO PUT A READ MORE OPTION ON MOBILE SO SORRY IF THIS LOOKS LENGHTY.

Summary: We were two mices pretending to be cats, weren't we?

We Didn't expect to find ourselves int his situation, But John... Homelander... You were perfect... none of this was a lie, these feelings are genuine! So I don't know why you're using such words... stalker... pyschotic bitch? Insane... Liar!? to describe me, after all I've done for you-- Us!? all I done to help you!?

You were wrong.

I just yearned to get closer so what if I did my homework? After all you played along. I knew you knew... you were so loud

R18: TW murder mention, CSEM mention.

Chapter two

Financial Advice for Crooks.

I had my vices.

Life hadn’t been easy, I had limited options and limited paths for the longest time so when I finally had a taste of anything but misery I sank my teeth in its throat, I settled my nest in a corpse of my past– I found my calling. Got my groove on, and began to move up in my way to hell. I made my money, and I made connections, and eventually I got used to this lifestyle.

I thought you would’ve been impressed by how good I was at my job… 

So I came to New York for business. It wasn’t cheap, but unlike the usual dreamers… they didn’t come to this city with a terabyte of crap to blackmail their landlord to lower their rent seventy-five-percent below street average. So I treated myself to the finer things, expensive things… short lived things… so all the meals and wine money could offer, material things didn’t last, but I wanted to feel good… the sort of good where sex doesn’t compare, beside I could never be loved or love… until I met you.

So I devoured with gusto all the Michelin stars, critics recommendations in the Times, highest rated Yelp! review joint, hidden gems, and anything that failed to include the price on the menu... I lived for once. 

For I was starved… until now.

So there I was in some bloody fucking warehouse tied up, my left arm dislocated and a five inch nail adhering my palm to this facebook marketplace find of a chair.

Let’s not even discuss the state of my face.

“You think you can rob me!? I gave you my trust! I welcome you into my family! I let you babysit my fucking kids! And this is how you repay me!? Stealing from me!?” His voice was louder than any thought around me.

I could hardly see or hear anything, my eyes swollen and my ears throbbing, hot, stiff, my shoulders burnt, my hand itching, and screaming.

“I’ll… I’ll pay…”

“Doesn’t change anything, kiddo. If I let you live then word gets out in the streets that you can disrespect me, and sail smoothly!”

“I’ll pay you double the interest! Come on Roman! I fucked up!” I can barely think, my mouth is dry and wet– I can get you something good!” My throat rips itself apart trying to speak to this suited hooligan.

“Like I care… get this bitch out my face.” he said to some goon behind me.

“Vought! I can get you Vought!”

It's always on your mind. You become a petulant child when it comes to Vought– your biggest competitor.

“Excuse you?”

“Edgar is on his way out. The market is going to be in a panic, no?” I spit drool and my teeth– word is that Homelander will take the helm… you think that homeschooled twat can manage to run one of the biggest companies in the world? I’ll get you the trading secrets… I’ll get.. you anything…”

“How do you know Edgar is out? What are you saying?”

“My FBSA contact… they didn’t pay up, so I gave them a visit… and that Neuman chick was so fucking loud. Something about a big press release in a couple days, they’re gonna arrest Edgar. The Homelander wants him out.”

“Why do you have a contact in the FBSA?”

“I wanted to pay you… needed some Supe to blackmail…”

“You’re lying.”

“Keep me alive until you see the bitch on the news. Help me get a job at Vought. I’ll get you something worth more than One-Hundred-K.” I plead, my voice a tire running out of air– please… Roman… please I beg you… believe me one more time! even I wouldn’t lie about this.”

It might’ve been the fantasy that gave him the capacity to hand mercies for he kept me alive in that warehouse for two days, for your new girlfriend was on the TV hitting Edgar like an avalanche.

Cut to, three weeks later, there I’m in business attire sitting across an exhausted HR rep who can’t believe his boss is making him do this, behind the almost perfect smile, and the mundane questions he had already hired me, my resume was perfect and seeing the urgency pulling at his leash even if my resume hadn’t been finely crafted, your company would’ve given me the job. The department was stressed while being examined closely by the shareholders, the whole company was frantic.

I got the call by the end of the week.

By Monday there I was walking into that massive hundred plus storey behemoth of a tower, worse than any fugly billionaire row structure. I saw why people were impressed by this butt-plug of a building, just sucking on the land around it, hogging all the air space with its glass ‘Seven’ and its name illuminating the airspace, big enough to have its own gravitational pull and New Yorkers were the moons running laps around it.

Before I knew it I was dragged around by security to receive my special keycard with my fake name and all, then met the highest qualified person in this department, some sweet anxious thing called Anika, you know her– if not the smell of adrenaline she gives off when you’re around.

It seems people here were allergic to sunlight– any light actually! This couldn’t be good for anyone's eyes.

She handed me a desk, and well everything after that must be quite boring for you, so let me TDLR…

There was a reason why I chose this department. I could’ve aimed to be an assistant, worked in any other department, even been the fucking janitor and I would had been able to fulfil my task, but I knew that Vought had all the resources and cutting edge technology to get the fuck away from Roman Ban and Banvision Global. In here I’d forge a new name, destroy all trace of my existence, what little there was of my digital fingerprint, and above all… I could make money.

It wasn’t difficult. 

So I started with Kevin… sorry I meant… The Deep (ugh) his mind was easy to navigate, behind the mountain of cetacean erotica, self-loathing, bisexual worries, genuine environmental worries, his abs and octopussy fantasies– it didn’t take me long to find out his social security number, his bank account passwords and numbers, social media passwords, both private and public– did you know he had an account in the Jeremy Renner app? Anyhoo… I had all I needed written in sparkly ink, and swirly cursive. 

I simply had to sell some tabloid his web search history, or transfer small amounts at a time to an offshore account, small enough to go unnoticed disguised as his usual transactions, he had several trials and memberships he had yet to cancel-- I pitied Deep to a degree we both had been bad with money. I just didn’t spend most of my money donating to cults and environmental causes. 

As the days went by I collected passwords and keys from all suits worth a damn, and did my job to cancel those memberships diverting them to me, and taking small amounts, collecting and crafting packages to blackmail them, sending personalized emails demanding ransom, etcetera.

But I had a guy ready to kill me to prove a point, so I kept working.

The more I saw my plan coming together, the more brazen I became. I thought I’d be there for a month at most… so there I was staying till late. My mind still assaulted by the discovery of the depth of the Deep’s depravity, and his annoying wife, this wasn’t my first introductory lesson into bestiality… that had been in the fifth grade at a Wendy’s parking lot when my powers were at their worst– and he wasn’t the only person on this floor that indulged in filth, not even the worse kind, the worse was that lady in IT storing a hard-drive with the sort of shit, that will have the FBI shutting down Vought for a couple days to investigate why there’s kids stored in the company servers– which… I did… tell Roman about.

“Excuse me?”

I had forgotten till now.

“Yeah… Joanne in IT… you should… keep Ryan away from that floor, just saying ‘cuz she ain’t ugly and he’s vulnerable.”

I’ve never seen you so pale, almost as pale as the corpse next to the couch.

“Anyways I was saying…”

I love how family oriented you are. The way your heart was racing just now, the way your jaw twitched for a second, it was sweet how much you cared.

“There’s also that guy in security who’s been stealing shit to roofie girls.”

Your pretty blonde locks felt to the side of your forehead, as you cocked your head confusedly.

I sat in that screen lit room, waiting for the building to get as quiet as it possibly could. There were always people in this place, sleepyheads and night shifts. This place had become less phallic and more a living organism, every hallway and room serving a function to keep it erect non-stop.

Curiosity won over me and I love obscene indulgences, I have an appetite for things that do me no good. So I knew a place I had to see So there I’m in the elevator knowing the floor is mostly empty, and knowing I had the floor all for myself, knowing where every soul was placed and the password to erased the security footage (plus I had already blackmail the right security guard) I headed upstairs to a special place.

The ninety-nine floor.

Walking across the golden marble, crossing the wooden frames and the gallery of greatest hits with no artistic value intrinsic to them– I saw the statues guarding the Seven’s boardroom, and found an unlocked sliding door. The silvery "Seven" table, with all its sharp edges, the famous chairs every supe in the world wanted to sit down on– not me. 

I wasn’t pretty enough for the pageant circuit, my parents were… disappointed… to say the least… found me creepy, repulsive even! saying I kept them hostage in their own home, unable to keep anything hidden. I tried to control my powers until they could forgive me, anyone…could forgive me, so I never imagined myself in this room, much less in spandex.

So I sat on your chair, at the helm turning to see the best view of the big city.

Your statues and your painting staring down on me, you were unbearable, just a pretty blond in tights, with a padded suit even for your dick as if you needed protection from upcoming kicks to the balls. Everybody feared you, and if they didn’t they wanted to be you, you seemed so far up your ass– and all your staff simply indulged you, afraid that even an atomic bomb couldn’t stop your tantrums. Too afraid to tell you… even if your name was on the door, you weren’t running shit. All the actual work was done by your former assistant it seemed, just delivered dumbed down to your level by the time it reached this table for you to play pretend, and feel like a big boy. 

I was surprised you could even read, but then again you could shoot lasers out of your eyes and if rumor was true your piss was acid– so Jesus knows I wasn’t going to question it.

Your chair was comfy, and I bet all those numbnuts wished they could sit on it.

The view was worth it, I could see why people liked this stupid city– did my job and ate quickly but I wanted more… so thankfully I had a good book on my kindle and a juicy chapter to unfold.

Looking at the clock I cleaned myself and began heading out, my mind finally shutting down, it was the only way I could sleep, Soon I would’ve been awake trying to hold my head together… I know you were at my house so I know you saw the valium next to my bed, and the mix-and-match bags of sleeping pills.

I should’ve looked at the clock better, I should’ve hung in there, freely disrupting my routine willingly. It was nice to hear nothing, just the sound of my wispy breath and my loafers squeaking, in this silence I failed to notice you.

I failed to notice you had entered this place at all. Did you find it hard to sleep? Did you step outside your enclosure looking for enrichment? I wasn’t thinking that when I stepped into the elevator with my eyes glued to my phone, you weren’t on my radar. 

My heart nearly burst out of my chest at the sight of red gloves holding the door.

My bladder nearly emptying itself.

When your frame came into my general vicinity. I swallowed hard. Still had some cheese caught behind my teeth.

Nervously I looked up, catching the back of the American flag and your shoulder pads. Golden eagles caging me, frosted tips right before my eyes, and your hand pressing on the elevator going up.

My hand still hovering near the control panel aching to press down, your collar creeked as you turned to look at my insignificant presence.

“What floor?”

How polite, your voice so quiet, guess you hadn’t noticed me either.

“Ground… thank you.”

Your perfume was virtually non-existent, you were warmth, sunflowers and cotton. I had cats to kill it seems for I looked up catching your disturbed reflection in the chrome. Your eyes somewhere else, something about that picture made me too curious.

I turned it back on: feeling the burst, holding a wince behind my teeth. I found myself leaning against the wall, your ear picking up as I held my head lightly.

You found me annoying, dramatic, loud. I held back my breath as I fixed myself in the corner, just out of fear.

“You should be ashamed of yourself!” 

I’m dead. I thought

“Do you have any idea how embarrassing you are!”

I…I…I am sorr– I began to mumble.

You weren’t saying anything, but it was you speaking. Screaming at yourself. 

That voice so rough and you became so meek, I took a quarter step forward-- in this small box I could do more than just listen, in the chrome your face moved, it spoke and walked in his few feets of space looking down on you, taunting you, remind you of today’s failures listing them as if he was your mother in the middle of math homework.

You could cry.

You wanted to cry.

You were a wave, a wave pulling me further into the sea and I had no idea how to swim any longer. How? How could you see yourself like this? Why do you let him act like this? 

When had you turned to see me? Had my leaning been too noticeable, could you smell the provolone in my tongue? My lips shakily pursed upwards.

It seemed the voice faded away.

“Did you get lost?” You looked directly at my badge.

“Heard they had mints in this floor’s bathroom.” where’s my fucking oscar!? 

Homelander mouth half open, too tired to react just shaking awkwardly but your half closed eyes watched me curiously.

And finally I saw your face.

Your eyes were so tired, everything about you looked exhausted, your posture kept straight by your suit pulling you up, but when your lip indulged in the joke. 

Magic.

My heart sang a song made in your honor, my cheeks so flushed it made me itchy. 

The elevator stopped but you didn’t leave when the doors opened, your finger pressed lightly on the right command.

“Who are you?”

“A corporate spy sent to steal trading secrets for your competitors”

You bombarded me with a singular warning “Don’t lie.” I lived in a world where nobody could lie to me, it got boring, it got insulting, hateful, cruel, so I wasn’t going to lie to you, not when I knew you wanted to decompress… with my spine.

You laughed.

It was so cute– you moved in slowmo.

You took a step back, listening to my unfazed heartbeat, I told you the truth but you heard a joke, maybe you needed a laugh for that voice was back to pestering you.

“I’m new. I was curious about the Seven’s gallery… sorry.”

“Don’t do it again.” You said with a jovial tone so threatening it reverted to being sweet– got it?”

Not a single picture, drawing, GIF, fancam, etcetera. Did ya justice, I could see it now… why everybody fawned over you, but I saw something else.

Behind those blue eyes.

Was the loneliest man in the world.

Your mind I wanted to peek more. I wanted to speak and decipher that voice in your head, I wanted to see why you hated those people under you, I wanted to understand what made you so upset that no matter how much you tried threatening me, it wouldn’t… it wasn’t making you feel any better.

“I’m sincerely sorry.” I said barely whispering but you heard it crystal clear– hope you have a goodnight Mister Gillman.”

The doors began to close as your eyes widened and your lips shaped an ‘O’.

I could’ve sworn your cheeks turned pale and pink.

Mine were candy apples, for once… I regretted saying Good night.

[ghosts-hamilton-aus]

"D̷͙̿̄̀̑o̷̘̓̂̿̈́ē̸̥̱̈́̓s̵͍̤̔̎͒n̷̤̓͂̀'̷̻̳͊̃̄͌t̶̯͔͔̯̘̎͐́̓͝ ̷̮̗͇̠̖̓͊̔̍ḿ̶͓ạ̵̝̲̫̗́t̵̟͖̘̆͜t̷͓̿͊̀̕e̵̡͚͉̙̗̒̈̈́̉͝r̴̨͎͉̦̤̒͋̀̓ ̸̱̗̼̀i̷͎̋̇f̴̧̧̓ ̶̥͙͙̟͚̓̃̔ḧ̵̢͇͇̫́ḙ̸̘̿͂̓̐̐ ̷̥̑́̿̀s̷̟̹͕̋͐͛ụ̶̪̩̜̠̀͗̿̑͛r̸̡̨̠̈̕̚v̸̱̱̲̼͌ȋ̶̺̣̟́͂v̶͈̦̯̀ě̷͚̐̃̈́s̶̫͋͗ ̶̹̖̝̂̿̇͌͠ͅo̵̮̖̤̜͆̍̾ṙ̵̩͉͓̄̈́͋ ̴̧̩̯͒̍n̸̟̩͝o̵̯̳̒͘͝ţ̷̗̯̯͉̇͐,̴̢̭͓̝̿̚ ̷̹̙̮̣̰͆̽̐̔́y̴̥͉̮͐ŏ̵̧͍̯̈́ú̷̹̩̎͂̚'̷͔̘̰̌͘l̴̪̭̝̅̆̉ͅl̸̯͙̯̘̺͋͆ ̷̨̪̤͛͝s̶̨͙̰̿͘͘t̷͔̯̖͙̊į̴̰̇̓̾ḷ̴͍̥̼̯͗͂͝l̴͙̻͔̯͖͐̿̽̈́ ̸̧͙͂̈́̽̑̏k̷͔̣̬̾̊ĩ̵͔̩̂͝l̵̟͑̓̈̈̚l̸̞̒ͅ ̸̲̖̜̅͂̈̕͜ḩ̷̘̓̇́͋͜͝i̴̻̥̙͂̍͝ͅm̴̜̭͔̘͘""̶̧̬̦̄́̓

Gentlemen, I present to you Little Burr AU

A misunderstood happened after Alexander had said some vile words about Aaron, resulting in him running away, tears in his eyes

Burr stopped at a dark and empty hallway after running endlessly, catching his breath. Little did he know there was someone, or rather something, waiting for him

That something was a demon, who craved for anger, guilt; any kind of negative emotion and was desperate for a human to meld with after waiting for so long

Wasting no time, the demon had possessed him with just a touch, causing Aaron to jolt forward

It takes, and it takes and it takes almost all of his energy to the point where he lost control of his body, the demon now replacing his spot

But it was still unsatisfied, wanting for more, so the ghost-demon created a gem to store it's food, forcing it to attached to Burr's chest and damaging his body even more

Aaron, now helplessly trapped in his mindscape, watches everything with his tired eyes; tears flowing every now and then, unable to move from the heavy chains

He waits, he waits and he waits for someone, anyone to save him

[dimiotouole]

The conversations I have with my brother I swear

This all started because I said I was on Team Mint Chip rather than Vanilla. Man really wanted to blow up the Splatoon world with super star destroyers over ice cream

[dishwatergothic]

ok so I was at work washing dishes, and I was stacking plates and I stand up and who should be standing right there. Misha collins

[intravenous-paranoia]

Realising that i could have developed normally if only my caregivers noticed and corrected my behaviour or just like gave me support and showed me how to cope with the world that was not built for a kid like me, but NO, THAT WAS TOO MUCH.

All i got was physical/emotional/sexual abuse and proof for my developing brain that i was correct in my actions and that authority figures or anyone presenting themselves with your "best interest" in mind can't be trusted with anything.

Being hostile and agressive towards kids who were mildly annoying to me? Perfectly okay in my eyes and in the eyes of those around me because i could be calmed down by getting isolated from my peers and being made to do puzzles instead of playing.

On the same note, not being in any peer group/being isolated? Perfect for everyone around me since they didn't have to deal with me and others didn't have to play or acknowledge a "weird" kid.

Abusing small animals? Totally okay, nobody cares about butterflies or mice or whatever small forest animal dying anyways.

Being agressive towards myself? It was almost fucking supported since i deserved to be punished anyways for being born wrong/existing/not fitting in the expected norms.

Lies, manipulation and stealing? No one noticed or cared enough to stop me and teach me a better way. Or if they did i once again got isolated from everyone and got left alone to deal with it however my young brain could without any help or input.

I could have grown up into an adult without trauma or these maladaptive behavioures but no :). And now everyone blames me for it because, clearly, this is a choice that you make and not something that stems from deeper issues that could have been somewhat corrected. It just makes me extremly angry. And everyone expects you to change overnight and become this "normal" person that they have in their head and honestly that is an even bigger drive to just avoid people or lie to them because why change now? Nobody cared before so why would they now? They had a shot and they fucked up. But eh whatever, this is just a dissapointed rant because some shit resurfaced.

[bybyefromurgirlodam]

I just had a dream where I woke up on the couch in my 16yr-old body (in my childhood home) on Christmas day.

I got off the couch, walked into the kitchen to where my dad was loading the dishwasher. I blinked and in that split second when my vision darkened, Taylor Swift appeared. Due to the combination of me not realising that it was a dream, Taylor Swift existing in MY kitchen and the sheer force of my bi panic, I struggled to form coherent sentences. About five minutes of me mumbling later, I said, “Wh-Wat are you doing?”

Taylor Swift, with so much nonchalance that I forgot to breathe, says, “I’m going to shower.”

“in my house?” and this absolutely stunning woman shrugs. Meanwhile I'm trying to live my life w/o breathing, “In Ireland?” her eyes widened a little and I felt bad, so, I asked her how she got here.

Taylor Swift in all her black cropped jumper and black+white checkered trousers (with killer eye makeup so it was midnights era) glory, says “i was walking down the street, after it had rained” and she just stops talking, and my unable to take social cues sixteen yr old self says “Whay happened?” Ms Taylor Swift looks me dead in the eye and said “got fucked”, I immediately answer with “by a puddle, right?” bc my dad is standing right beside us (and chooses that moment to quote Deadpool with the lemon juice gets out blood stains line)

Taylor Fckn Swift shrugs and I am now balling my eyes out, she just pats me on the head and says smth really deep that I immediately forget as my vision fades

[pro-memoriia]

I'm so bored and IDK what to post but I have too fragile of an attention span to scroll through my home page. I'm just gonna write a list of useless head canons because this is my life and this is my long weekend

[viewvuu]

Idk if anyone get it or nah but wonwoo is such a tease. Not like in a sexual way but THAT MAN is definitely such a tease

[pheonix-inside]

I had a dream I met david tennant lmao and he had like a mask on the only reason I knew it was him was his voice and that was enough for dream logic

[bruiseandstars]

Pieces of me.

I left pieces of my heart in every places i've land my foot on.

The places I used to go for my driving lessons with my dad, where he told me to hold the brake but instead I kept on pressing the pedal gas even harder, and the narrow roads that frustrates me, but even more so for him on the passenger seat.

The front gate of a certain lime green building, where me, my sister, and my dad would go to every evening to picked up our mom from work, and the store that we'd visit after to buy me my favorite magazine. 

The quiet, vintage house of my grandparents, where I spent times with my cousins playing hide and seek, and one of us would break my grandma's oriental vases.  And the spacious front yard where me and my then teenage aunt used to play in the rain, and we'd get scolded after.  The one and only time I've had ever dance in the rain, my aunt would carry me on her back as we were laughing freely, mischievously.

The river on my grandma's hometown that we all used to swim in, I remember my uncle jumped off from the cliff and his pant accidentally slipped.  I also remember I didn't want to come out of the water.

My cousin's wooden house that I could not stop admiring, even until now.  The conversation pit where we used to play cards at.  The high ceiling full of intricate wooden structure. The study room where we used play roles at. And the clear sound of the beating drum from the 2nd floor above.

The house we used to live at, at the town faraway from our hometown. I remember the ever-dusty terrace due to the high traffic on a road in front of our house. The place where my sister and I used to fight for a tv remote cause we want to watch our own favorite shows at 6 pm.

The rooftop of my certain 3rd grade teacher's house at 5.30 pm where the sky turns purple-pink-ish and the sound of a recital could be heard clearly from the nearby mosques. The same teacher who cried for me because, for the second time, I would be moving to yet another town in few weeks—the first person outside of my family to ever mourn over my departure.

There are many other pieces of me. Some are remembered, many are forgotten. It shatters me how much of my pieces—that I once considered important—I could've forgotten by now. And now I can't help but wonder: which memories contributed to who I am the most? Or perhaps, each of these amalgamated into a big, one part of me. Who knows.

The most important thing is, I am grateful for the memories from my early life. While I forgot most of them, I could faintly remember how fascinated I was with everything, and how those first times I ever experienced made me think that life was wonderful and full of exciting curiosities.

It's hard to be fascinated these days when all I do is keeping my sight to the concrete ground. Sometimes I forget that the world is more than just a dreadful cubicle. Maybe I should learn from my younger self on how to be  joyful again⏤to be myself before the world changed me, to be free of expectation, to be a white, clean, unwritten paper once again. That way, I might know how to continue making memories and left my pieces at places I've set my foot into.