#sad? nauseous

[flickeringflame216]

why is nausea my body's response of choice to literally every strong emotion

[anne-is-confused]

Captain Francis Crozier, at Furthest North.

[sad-leon]

can i have feral leo #69

Song 69: Abstract Nonsene by Trickle

Song 14: Ready Now by Dodie

Feral Leo by @cupcakeslushie makes me feel many emotions. i wanna hold him gently like a feral cat <3

KoFi || Patreon

[worldwright]

It's the "repeat after me" that always gets me.

The silent, invisible struggle is over. Jon has tried and failed to stop himself from speaking. He has turned the page and his voice is steady and expressive. His voice is Jonah's.

Was there ever a fight at all? Jon has always followed the path Jonah laid out for him. Or was that a lie Jonah told to make his victory seem unilateral? Regardless, the eye's weapon is information, and Jonah wields it with precision and uncompromising force. He always has. And now his favorite plaything is finally ready to serve its purpose.

In some ways, Jonah made a gamble by tossing his statement in the stack randomly. If Martin had seen it before Jon, then they would have known his plan and been much more wary of any future attempt he made. But his calculation was sound. Martin had no real reason to look over the statements, and Jonah knew that his Archivist liked to read them in private.

It's one thing for him to gloat. Villains like to have their little monologue, and an avatar of Beholding especially so. But dragging his confession out of the throat of the one he abused?

He chose Jon as Archivist. He made sure that he went far enough down the path that he wouldn't be able to stop. He made sure that every word out of Jon's mouth sounded uncannily like Jonah's own voice.

But even that wasn't enough. All he really had to do was put his little incantation on the second page and he would have won. But he wanted Jon to know what was happening, and why, and how. And that he never could have stopped it. And after all that:

"Repeat after me."

Jonah had never seen Jon as a person, that had been obvious for a long time. Even so, he had great affection for him. Enough to apply his twisted love to one final act of exquisite cruelty.

[lizard-queen-izzy]

I Hate Everything About You

Summary: What if Jon and Tim's fight at the end of MAG 65 had gone a little differently? [Most of the dialogue is from the transcripts so obviously full credit to Jonny for those lines.] Word count: 1952 Author's note: It's finally here! Sorry to keep you all waiting, but it's here now! I would apologize in advance but, I'd have to feel remorse to apologize so.

------------------------------

The tape recorder clicked back to life. 

“Supplemental. It looks like my posting on a few of the more tech-savvy boards appealing for statements has worked. While the incident itself seems ultimately inconsequential, I was able to convince Tessa to have a look at Gertrude’s laptop, claiming to have locked myself out,” Jon turned to the now glowing screen of the laptop. “I don’t know what she did - something about “command lines’’ and “administrative privileges” - But I now. Have. Access.” he let out a slow, shaky breath. “I’m almost afraid-” he froze at the sound of the door creaking open. Tim stepped through the door.

“Hey, where did you put the-” He stopped at the sight of Jon hunched over the recorder. “Oh. Sorry. Didn’t mean to disturb you while you were being suspicious-”

“It’s fine.” Jon cut him short before he could drag this nonsense out again.

“No, no, I’ll - catch you when you’re not scheming.” He threw his hands up and backed out the door, turning and reaching to pull it shut behind him. Jon knew he should leave it at that. But he couldn’t help the words that spilled from his mouth, unfortunately, loud enough for Tim to hear.

“No need to take that tone-” Tim whipped around faster than Jon thought possible.

“What?” There was a venom in Tim’s voice, the look of disbelief on his face made something twist in Jon’s stomach. He straightened in his seat, attempting to smooth things back down to their normal levels of discomfort. “Nothing. I’ll see you later -”

“No.” Tim stepped back into the room, the door closing silently behind him. He turned the chair in front of Jon’s desk around, sitting on it. “What did you say?” He was leaning over the top of the back of the chair, still managing to tower over Jon even seated and at a distance. Jon once again readjusted in his seat, hoping he didn’t look as uncomfortable as he felt.

“I said there’s no need for the attitude, I know things have been difficult but -” Tim cut him off, again.

“Oh, they have, have they? ‘Things have been difficult?’ You’ve spent a month staring at that footage -” he leaned even closer, practically laying on the desk, “double-checking every moment, timing every tea break, looking at me like I somehow staged it - but no! You’re right: ‘Things have been difficult.’” His face was twisted in anger, his breathing was getting shallower. 

“It just seems a little too convenient!” Jon could feel himself getting worked up, could feel his composure slipping. “Excuse me!?” Tim sounded like he’d been shot. His mouth hung slightly agape, and Jon couldn’t place the look in his eyes.

“I mean, the CCTV is so corrupted that the police can’t just use it immediately, and then they happen to finish restoring it when I start really digging into the murder!? And if it was an option, why not clean it up when she first disappeared!?” He could hear himself getting louder, but he didn’t care. Tim wanted to talk, they were talking now. “And don’t get me started on the lack of cameras in the Archives - I know, I know Elias’s whole spiel about ‘signal degradation’ and ‘installation issues,’ but I don’t buy it. I mean, he got the CO2 system put in easily enough-”

“Shut. Up.” TIm’s voice cut through Jon, silencing him. He looked up to see Tim staring at the desk, teeth and fists both clenched, tight. 

“What-”

“Shut up. Just stop talking. I’m sick of this. I’m sick of you! We didn’t kill Gertrude, and no one wants to kill you, you pompous idiot!” 

“Now, listen here-” Tims hand slammed into the desk.

“No. No. You listen, for once. I was fine in research. Happy. Then you asked me to be transferred here and suddenly it’s all monsters and killers and secret passages, oh my!” He was standing now, making his way around to Jon’s side of the desk. Jon turned in his seat to face him, not yet daring to stand. “And the worst thing - the actual worst thing - is that no one here has my back. With any of it! Elias doesn’t care, Martin just wants a tea party, and Sasha - ugh - and you! - You’re treating me like I’m somehow to blame for it all, like I didn’t suffer the worst right alongside you!” His breathing was ragged now, and Jon stood to meet him. “Well, excuse me if my experiences have made me-” but Tim cut him off again, this time punctuated by shoving him backwards into the wall.

“Your experiences? Fuck you, I got eaten by worms because of you!” His fist was balled in the front of Jon’s shirt, holding him in place against the wall. Jon squirmed in his grasp, turning his head as far up as he could to try and meet Tim’s eyes. Tim’s gaze was hard and set on Jon and nothing else. If looks could kill, well, Jon was glad they couldn’t. 

“Well, what do you want? You want sympathy?” He spat the last word out, and something flashed in Tim’s eyes. His grip on Jon’s shirt tightened and he pushed him further into the wall.

“You know what, yeah! Little bit of basic sympathy would have been nice!” 

“Jane Prentiss was not my fault, I did not bring her to the Archives-”

“Oh, but you went off the deep end afterwards, didn’t you!? Everything went to hell-” He was gesturing wildly at the air with the arm not currently holding Jon in place. “-and when you actually needed to be in charge, you just hid down here and played with your tape recorder.”

“Well, what would you have me do!?”

Tim’s other arm hit the wall, caging Jon in.

“Anything! Anything that wasn't turning into a paranoid lunatic would have been fine! Anything that showed you could actually do your job!” His face was close now, and Jon could feel his breath on his cheeks. He took in a shaky breath. “Well,” he let out a strained laugh, “Elias clearly thinks-”

“Elias should’ve fired you weeks ago!”

“What!?”

“After everything you’ve pulled, you should be gone. But no! Instead, we all get to talk about how you’re feeling, because we’re worried about our stalker boss. I, I can’t do this anymore!” Tim was shaking now, and it was sending shockwaves through Jon. Jon didn’t know what to say to help, because nothing would fix this. Whatever he and Tim had had before Jane Prentiss, before the Archives? It was gone. Dead and buried and never coming back no matter how much he dug. He could stand there searching for words forever and none of them would undo the damage. So instead, he said all he could think to, knowing it would be the final nail in the coffin. “Then quit.” He heard his voice crack and prayed Tim didn’t, “If you hate it so much, leave your post in the Archives. Permanently.”

“Are you firing me?” The shock in Tim’s voice was like a twist of the knife Jon was trying to desperately pretend wasn’t driving its way through his heart. That same, unidentifiable look passed in his eyes, and it made Jon hesitate for a moment before proceeding.

“...I’m offering you a chance to quit. No notice period, I’ll even make sure you get the rest of the month’s paycheck. Just say the words.” The silence hung between them like a challenge. Neither of them moved, Jon could barely feel Tim’s breath on his face, almost like he was afraid breathing would be response enough. Tim slumped forward, forehead practically resting on Jon’s.

“I want to…” It came out more like a release of breath than words.

“So do it.” Jon’s voice dropped to match.

“I…Can’t.” His voice cracked, and Jon saw tears beginning to fall from his eyes.

“Why not?” 

“I, I can’t! I don’t know - why can’t I quit!?”

“I-I don’t know. But I don’t think I can fire you either…”

“What?”

“It’s this place.”

“...I don’t understand.”

“Neither do I. I’m trying to figure it out I-I’ve got the shape of it but…” He started to reach for him, to offer him some kind of comfort, but his hand froze halfway to Tim’s arm. It hung in the air along with all their unspoken words. “I’m sorry, Tim. Truly I am. But I cannot and will not trust you. This place isn’t right - you see that now. I don’t know how or why, but there is something very wrong with the Archives. And I don’t know who here is a victim of it - and who is an agent.” The words filled the ever closing space between them, and they stung like salt in an open wound. Tim took in a shaky breath. “So… What do we do?”

“For now…? I suppose we just… do our jobs.”

“I don’t want to.”

“No.” Jon let the moment hang in the air. Let it be for a moment, acceptance washing over him. This was it, the end. Tim made no attempt to move, still gripping Jon’s shirt like a life-line, his other arm firmly planted against the wall, both keeping Jon from moving an inch. Jon’s own arm still hung in the air beside them, half extended to touch the arm holding his shirt. Tim’s grip tightened on Jon’s shirt, which he didn’t think possible, and his face twisted like he was deep in thought. “Tim, can you please let go?” His voice was smaller than he was proud of, but he was worried to speak any louder would make Tim do something rash. His eyes were unfocused, still looking down at Jon, but more vaguely than trained on him like prey. He tried again, in case he hadn’t heard him. “Tim.”

“No.”

“Please..”

“SHUT. UP!” His voice boomed with the sudden raise in volume, and before Jon even knew what was happening, his lips were crashing into his own. It was nothing like he’d imagined kissing Tim would be like, though he knew he didn’t deserve the soft, careful kisses he had imagined. He knew he didn’t even deserve this one. He let himself be manhandled, Tim’s hand moving off the wall to hold his jaw firmly in place while he kissed him. Jon let his hand finally fall against Tim’s chest. Flat at first, then eventually allowing himself to also clutch Tim’s shirt, pulling him further into him. He didn’t know how long he had, but he was going to relish in it as long as he could. Tim’s weight shifted almost like he’d stepped closer, god could they get any closer, and then all at once he was gone. He pulled back, putting some distance between them, and stared at Jon.   His face was flushed, his lips bright pink and still wet from the kiss. And that look in his eyes was back though Jon still couldn’t quite place it. Jon took in a breath, his whole body shaking from the effort, he knew he must look pathetic. Neither of them said anything, the silence between them back, but so different now. Tim shuffled further away from Jon, back towards the door.

“...I. um, suppose I’ll see you later.”

“I suppose so.” The door creaked loudly behind Tim as he shut it. Jon fell back down into his chair, slumped with defeat. So they weren’t going to talk about it, great. What was one more thing they wouldn’t talk about? Jon thought of getting up and following Tim, but he knew Tim wouldn’t want that. His eyes fell to the tape recorder, wheels still spinning. 

“End supplemental.” The tape recorder clicked off. ------------------------------

[embarr-assment]

Small headcanon; When he thinks or is absolutely Sure no one is watching or listening, Embarrassment will do things like sing or dance to himself. Letting loose and having fun while he's by himself, but would immediately die on the spot if he were to be caught in the act. Has a genuinely nice singing voice, truly kind of a goofball when he finds it Safe to do so.

[jkpng]

day 135/547 of missing jungkook

[frockism]

who wants to be the gumball watterson to my darwin watterson? (Im lonely as fuck)

[twentyfivemiceinatrenchcoat]

Ok what about the opposite? Would Suguru ever lash out at you and say hurtful things?

hmmmmm …….. i think that if it does happen it’s very, very rare!!!!! in my head suguru is the type to never ever raise his voice or lose his composure, but i could see him hurting your feelings by being passive aggressive / making you feel incompetent / etc….. he regrets it as soon as he sees the look on your face :’)

[scuderia-hamilton]

i’m happy for Lewis going to Ferrari and that he's leaving a toxic environment and i am so so excited to see him in red, in a team that wants him, but then sometimes i see a sad edit of him leaving and it’s just truly devastating.

how he always said that Mercedes is his family, that it’s the place where he wants to retire from, that he cannot imagine not being a Mercedes driver. he was so loyal, he gave everything he had to that team and somehow, it just still wasn’t good enough. they didn’t listen to him, they excluded him, made him feel unwanted and alienated, didn’t prioritize him at all. it’s been so clear that he wasn’t part of their future plans, which was just heartbreaking.

and when he decided to take back his career and go to a team that clearly appreciates him for all that he’s achieved, they spin this whole narrative around, going completely against him. suddenly everything was an issue and a problem, his age, his attitude, his commitment and determination.

and still, he didn’t say a single bad word about them, always expressing how hard of a decision it was. the hardest he ever had to make. he makes sure they know how grateful he is, how proud he is of their journey and shared history, that he'll miss them tremendously and it just doesn't feel reciprocated at all.

and i can’t imagine how drastically the situation must have worsened for him to decide this over winter break, in such a short period of time. he was always so full of hope regarding the team, no matter how horrible the situation was. something broke his unwavering support and hope.

he built a legacy way bigger than any world champion in the sport, he built a legacy that is bigger than f1. and it still wasn't enough. he felt like he had to leave first, before he got left behind. and that is just gut wrenching. he's the most successful formula 1 driver in history and they just couldn't appreciate him.

Mercedes was his family. until it wasn't.

[bcofl0ve]

in lisa’s revamped exhibit at graceland 💔 such a lovely photo of them but man this hurt my heart.

[watchyourbuck]

Just finished Chapter 7 of the Dear Maddie fanfic. Might be able to post today.

[spelllingandthemysteryschool]

so depressed it is literally making me sick to my stomach

[copper-skulls]

Kids found a (presumably sheep) skull during my game. Should I re-home it?

[sidetongue]

ignore the drool

[dirtytransmasc]

no cause miles is just so young.

he calls his dad, cause he's scared and upset and overwhelmed and he just wants to hear his voice.

he hugs him, even when he's "not supposed" to, when he's not his son and instead spiderman, when his dad has no idea who he is and only sees a vigilante.

when he hugs his dad, he presses into his chest, cause he's too short to rest his head on his shoulder, and he squeezes his eyes shut, cause he's no doubt about to cry (and we can't really see it, but I'm pretty sure he can't fully wrap his arms around his dad, which kills me).

when he dad hugs him, he's practically able to fit Miles's head in his hand. and the way he ran into him in a split second, and before his dad even knew what was wrong, he just held him????

I can't do this today, he's just so little, he's a baby, and he's been through so much, it's not fair, just look at him, what did he do to deserve any of this?