#its a dry rot dont worry

[extrajigs]

Working on a new ref for Ed and NEEDED to draw his hands. One of my fav parts of his design, the gross necrotic claws. Beautiful.

#its a dry rot dont worry #i love him #rest of the ref is takin some serious eyeballin because he deserves the BEST #ed #art #body horror #gore #technically abattoir related

[aonungyoufuck]

Runaway {Part 9}

Runaway Masterlist

DNI/BYF

Ao'nung x Fem sully reader.

Synopsis: its been a long time. Far to long but Ao'nung makes you diner. Still in the courting phaze. Honestly its just little bit of fluff.

Ao’nung felt it. The water wasn't exactly like home. It was almost a little suffocating. But he figured since you adapted to his home he could adapt to this one. 

He had been thankful that the first day here he had began marking it on his spear before translating it to a board. It had been exactly one year and six months. And he's done his best to keep track of dates. And if memory serves him right. It was almost his birthday too. 

He would say courting has gone well. 

Alongside all that he’s managed to adapt kind of well to the forest. Sure he sucks are climbing, he still can't hunt unless you help. And there are no Ikran here to tame. But hes made Progress with what you two had to work with. 

His skin feels dryer than normal and he’s spending more time in the water. Which helped in making tools and collecting more food that way. 

But you took notice of it too. Luckily for you on one day where he was deep into the lake. You manage to sneak into his hut. Finding the wood that he had been carving. And lucky for you. You also remembered what day his birthday fell on. 

“What are you doing in here?”

“Ao’nung! God i swear one day im going to drop dead from fright” You poke. 

The little pod was nothing like back home. And you could tell it could use some work. 

“Just came to see if i can help fix up your little area a little. All i have to worry bout is my hammock so i thought you may want me to fix it up a little?”

He rose a brow before sighing. “Sure. I mean i know this place is falling apart too” 

“Plus i have a slug coating that can help with the wood rot.” You commented back. 

He smiled. Extending his hand out. In it a small but shiny crystal. One that he had made sure to polish and refine to perfection. 

“For you” 

“Ao’nung..Where did you find this?” 

“There’s surprisingly a lot of stuff at the bottom of this lake”

Now When he had first began to court you He had no one to talk to. But he did remember Lo’ak asking him how to go about courting his sister. So he had a minor clue on your courting rituals not being the same. 

And he was a little bit reluctant to ask you. But you had told him however he wants to, You are more than willing to accept his courting rituals. 

You took notice of the hole that he most likely drilled into the stone. Smiling, taking the hand you wove it into your hair. 

“Ao’nung your hand..” 

Ao’nung quickly took his hand away from yours. “Its nothing” 

“Does it hurt?”  

His hands were dry and blistering. Slightly red at his knuckles and finger tips. “No. Kind of”

“You should have told me” 

“I didnt want you to worry any more than you have” 

“Ao’nung”

You grabbed his hand. Careful with the blisters as you gently peppered them with kisses. “Prepare me a fire, please?” 

“What for?”

“Well, i still have year of Tsahik training under my knowledge. Not to mention we are in the forest” 

Ao’nung rolled his eyes, smirking a little as he could only help but sigh. “Alright alright fine. Just be safe alright?”

“Dont worry love. Ill be back soon” You bid him a quick goodbye before heading off again. 

Ao’nung was glad you hadn’t looked more into the place. He had been working hard on making you the greatest meal he could make. Cooking or preparing food wasn’t his strong suit. But watching his mother and Tsireya for so many years he picked up a thing or two. 

He figured you were also tired of the Teylu and the fish he could gather. Lucky for him he had found fruits a while ago and had planted only two. It had borne good fruit and he was Glad. He wanted to try some more. 

He was glad too that Kiri had showed him your Omatikaya spiciest dish. 

You were taking your time. But he was glad too for the food was ready by the time he had finally seen you come by. 

“Ao’nung… Oh! What’s this all about?” 

“ I thought you may like if i prepared food for you this time” 

You smiled Sitting next to him as you looked at the fire and the food. “I love it thank you” 

Ao’nung handed you his hands. But not before giving you a new Clay Bowl. 

It had been like this since you two ran off. You would provide the highest amount of food, And he would provide the materials. Given that he had better access to it. But he wanted to bring up a point tonight. 

So while you began to mash the paste and wrap his hands he decided to speak. 

“Do you think. Maybe you could teach me to hunt some more?” 

“I can. But are you sure? I mean you have been spending a lot more time in the water”

“I want to provide more for you. How will you accept me if i do not?”

“I have accepted you a long time ago dear Ao’nung” 

Ao’nung didn’t know if it was because of the lack of people. But you had been so bold. And it made him more reserved.  Shy which he never was. It made his heart beat for you more. 

“If you want to know, I can teach you. But Know that im okay with the system we have”

“I like to provide. But i will admit it was fun to cook” Ao’nung admitted. 

You smiled. Kissing his hands as you noticed that his skin on his legs was also cracking. 

He looked so dry compared to the amount of time he was spending in the water. It concerned you and you made yourself a mental note to make more paste just in case it ever bled. 

You also took this as a good way to make sure he was eating. Giving he looked a little more sunken in than usual

“Alright alright you big baby ill teach you”  You could only smile. 

Laying down next to each other wasn’t uncommon but it was often that you didn't do this. Staring out into the sky. It was nice to see it. To feel the wind pass you by. To let the wonders of pandora engulf you. 

“What is that?” Ao’nung commented, making you look at what had gingerly landed on his hand. 

“Atokirina” You let out a gasp as you took a look at the wood sprite that had landed on Ao’nung. 

Little by little and one by one they surrounded you two. Engulfing you in a light show you could only dream of. 

Feeling like the young adults you were two years ago when Ao’nung had told you those sweet nothings. 

“There must be a tree of souls nearby,” you commented. Laughing a little as you watched them leave. 

“We should go find it one day” Ao’nung suggested. 

“No. It is sacred to another clan. It would be rude if we did so” 

Ao’nung could only laugh at your words. 

—----------------------------------------------

“One year Tonowari” Ronal spoke through her tired voice. All this time she had wept for her son. She often stayed in her pod helping when needed and leaving when left alone. 

Her voice lost its fierce strength and now it was tired. Strained and harsh because she had grown so tired of it. Tired of wanting to understand why Ao’nung had left. 

But she knew. She knew too well and she oftentimes found herself upset for  not making an effort to understand her son’s devotion to you. 

“I know Ma Ronal” 

“What is this Tonowari” she spoke. She was so worried. And whilst she blamed you in the beginning. She was worried for you too. It was like having another Daughter. For Eywa’s sakes

She had accepted Lo’ak to Court Tsireya as to not lose her too. Oftentimes she found herself by the spirit tree. Wondering, asking for their safe return. Asking her that if you two return, she will happily take you two back. No matter the costs. 

Ateyo had grown so quickly and she was missing out on her oldest son. 

She would clean his spear, his nets and anything just so that if he were to come back. He would be coming back to what was normal. 

Oftentimes Tonowari found her. Reliving the memories of Ao’nung. Like a baby he was. Like the young boy he was. The Kid Ronal Adored so much now that he was gone. He too prayed to Eywa for your return soon. For it broke his heart to much to see her in such pain.

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

Taglist: @simp-erformarvelwomen / @luvlykrispy / @yeosxxx / @fanboyluvr / @littlethingsinlife / @eirianna / @elegantkidfansoul / @tsukibaby1 / @adaiasafira / @1-800-not-simping / @reggiesslut / @cmfouatslota77 / @slutforsmut4ever / @zatarias-pandora / @valovesyou / @tachiara / @ghost-lantern / @victorianhorrors / @irlydontknoanymore / @hellok1ttycake / @sweetheartlizzie07 / @audigay

#avatar the way of water #atwow imagines #atwow #atwow ao'nung #ao'nung x reader #ao'nung x you #ao'nung #aonung x reader #ao’nung x reader #ao’nung x you

[oceansssblue]

Just stumbled upon you through one of my mutuals. There is a severe lack of Fives x Pregnant reader out there, so I’d like to challenge that. However, if that’s not your thing literally anything fluffy and sfw with Fives would be beautiful. Thanks love!

Hi there love! Yeah, I asked the community to reblog and its getting surprisingly crazy! But i love writing and I'm happy to do all these requests for you, it'll just take same time haha.

A lot of fives snips coming! Fives x pregnant reader is not a problem at all. Fluffy and a bit of spicy. Hope you like it!

"NUMBER ONE"

TBB REQUESTS –FIVES/PREGNANT!READER 📩💖

WARNINGS: PREGNANT FREADER, PASSING MENTION OF ECHO'S DEATH, ROTTING FLUFF, A DROP OF SPICYNESS&BANTER.

Few in the galaxy actually knew clones weren't at all sterile. Kaminoans had definitively tried to get rid of the problem; but it had always ended up affecting their efficacy on battle, or led to huge emotional disregulations, so they had opted for the quickest way possible. An implant. It was just designed for a man instead of a woman; periodically inyecting them with some kind of substance that made their spermatozoids not viable. Well, if their plan had to fail with someone, it had to be Fives.

Despite being an excellent ARC trooper, a great soldier, Fives had always had a bit of a knick for bending the rules. Maybe it was just part of his vibrant, energetic personality; which had also pushed him to sneak into the pleassures of the Coruscant nights numerous times before.

He had been nothing short of a playboy, at first. Not really breaking girls hearts, because he just wasn't a bad person; but with war going on, he knew he didn't have the stability or time for something more serious, and it wasn't fair to put someone else through that. So he had always stated his intentions first and he had had his fair ammount of fun here and there. But like all playboys, he had fallen in love, and fallen hard.

At first you were just one of Fives conquests; another name on the list. But the thing is that sex had been so much more fun with you; from the flirting in the bar to you laughing freely and without a worry in the world in your bedsheets, hair forming a beautiful halo on the pillow. Maybe Fives had fallen in love with you right then and there. Maybe it had been the second date, or the third. The time he kissed your hand or when you marked his neck with his teeth, a small show of possesion for anyone else, and he had actually liked it instead of bringing up the rules of their agreement.

Maybe it had been the way you had brushed the sex aside and cuddled up with him on the sofa instead, holding him through the pain of Echo's death. Maybe it had been how softly you had kissed him on the day of his following department, maybe... Maybe it had been the day he found out you were pregnant with his child.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fives smiles, dark eyes lost somewhere in the sink in front of him. You had both just finished having lunch; your cyare dilligently jumping to wash the dishes himself and telling you to sit down for a tiny bit. You hadn't answered you didn't really need to sit all the time; because you knew helping you made him feel better, and it always made you happy to make him feel valued, and good. And baby number one was particularly active today, so all good.

"What are you thinking of, love?" You ask, bringing Fives back from his thoughts.

He restarts with his washing technique –he insists in drying all the glasses one by one as he cleans them instead of doing them all together at the end– and glances back.

"Just thinking about that time you told me you were pregnant with my child" he answers, playful smile perching on his handsome face.

"Oh? That time, huh?" You repeat, chuckling. "I recall you having a pannick attack".

Fives huffs.

"Me? A pannick attack? Please, dont say such foul lies with that pretty mouth of yours" he answers, and you instantly fall into your usual banter.

It somestimes feels like sex. It sometimes feels like love. It sometimes feels like something even deeper than that.

"Who would have known" you continue teasing him. "Brave ARC trooper Fives scared at the prospect of having a tiny little innocent baby".

Fives chuckles and closes the tap, turning around while he dries his hands with one of the kitchen cloths.

"In my defence, babies are scarier than droids" he points out, grin stretching his face, filling you with warmth.

Oh, how you love him.

"Oh yeah" you continue to playfully mock him. "They can attack you with their little... oops, no, they don't even have teeth yet".

Fives laughs, and he walks towards you. He stands there in front of you in all his handsome clone glory before bending forward and leveling his face with yours. His lips hover in front of yours.

"But I'm not scared anymore, aren't I?" He whispers, glancing at the temptation that is your mouth.

You hum and place your hand on his cheek, caressing it softly. He's so attractive, with his strong cheekbones and expressive eyebrows.

"Still scared" you half sing, smiling lovingly "You're just much more excited about it now".

Fives chuckles and kneels down on the floor, conceeding you a victory with a small nod. He looks up at you while he carefully places his big hands on your seven-month-belly; then switches his attention to it while he caresses it and speaks softly.

"How's my little trooper doing today?"

Your heart melts with Fives softness. Even if he's a good man, and affectionate enough, you had never imagined him to be like this. He will really be a great father, you know it.

"Baby number one is particularly rebellious today" you tell him, inmediately laughing at Fives frown and rolling eyes. "He's going to be a handfull, I'm sure of it".

He gives you a pointed glance.

"And that's exactly why we're not having a second one".

You pout.

"But what is baby number one going to do when you're out fighting the evil guys and I'm busy with work? You understand he needs a brother, right? You should understand more than anyone..." you let your ending trail, and Fives stands up and crowds over you, cupping your face in his hands.

"I see what you're trying to do, missy. Pulling on my emotional conection with my brothers is a low move on your part" he answers, though holding no malice in his voice, still smiling slightly.

You grin up at him.

"But an effective one?" You ask, hopeful.

Fives chuckles and sighs.

"I'll reeeaaally think about it if you don't use the "baby number one" nickname for a whole month".

You laugh out loud this time, and your baby moves with you, almost excited. You gasp, and Fives hand is instantly pressed against you, feeling the movement and grinning from ear to ear. It's a beautiful sight on him.

"You got yourself a deal, sexy man" you nod, happy.

Fives smiles and kisses you slowly, without a rush in the world, though you know he probably has to go back to the GAR in a few hours.

"Don't start with that, miss. That's how we ended up in this place for the first time".

You playfully bite his lower lip and Fives groans against your mouth.

"Luckily for you, baby number two can't be made in the oven yet".

Fives shakes his head, pulling carefully but firmly on your hair to make you tilt your head back further, exposing your throat to him.

"You're insufferable" he mumbles, smiling against the skin of your neck.

You sigh and happily close your eyes. You've got a wonderful cyare; and even pregnant, he knows very well how to take care of you.

"Persistent" you correct him.

Your words are quickly losts under Fives' lips and hands.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fully fluffy one for you love! Hope you've liked it!

Remember I'll be doing EVERY one of the requests you've all sent me, just takes me time.

Xx,

Sky.

Back to my general masterlist here!

#arc trooper fives #fives #clone trooper fives #tcw fives #echo and fives #fives x reader #star wars #clones #fanfic #clone wars #clone au #the clone wars #clone high #pregnant #pregnancy #request #open requests #one shot #oneshot #fics

[youngestdaughtersyndrome]

Okay well lets think about whats happened. New year and i dont feel any different, birthday and i dont feel any different. Thats not surprising because i think i change so much that i always feel the same. I am staying in the second bedroom of a girl who fell in love with me one summer and her bedspread is pink and there's a full bottle of my favorite shampoo in the shower. They have a really shitty little guitar here and when i get bored i transcribe songs on it. My fathers concern about me is more obvious the further im away from him-- he texts me incessantly and misses me terribly which brings me a wicked sense of satisfaction because i know hes as parasocial about me as i am about him. I think our relationship is fucked up in some way because i love him and i don't want him dead at all. I run in the field with my dog and let her tackle me into the mud. It hasnt snowed yet but it will. I found a dead cat in the rundown barn on the property-- its fur is orange and its mouth is open with no obvious signs of rot except for the dry hole in its side and the layer of dust on it. Ive recently become minorly obsessed with the Shangri-Las. Im not worried about my missing assignments because i have no problem lying to my teacher. Theres an envelope sized vent in the ceiling above the bed and the bed does not smell like the girl. I miss this town before it got gentrified. I had a coke for my birthday and thats the last time i'll have sugar for a long time because my mother has me on another diet and the nearest store is five miles away. I still can't drive. When i rewrote my last will and testament i said that i envy worms. She has three votive candles in her room (st. Jude, guardian angel, our lady of guadelupe) and i light them every night. Im rationing cigarettes. I wish i was the moon.

#hollyws

[decompforteenz]

orchid waxes romantic about dead bodies. im so so serious this is almost a full page about how pretty i think dead bodies are. if you followed me for fauxcest or rape kink or even snuff dont look this is the HEIGHT of corpsegirl posting.

its very still tonight. i’ve been dwelling on that stillness and silence. the isolation. do you know how strange it feels? to have romantic feelings for a thing that fundamentally cannot reciprocate or even have a facsimile of reciprocity? to have soft, loving, tender and caring feelings towards something that just,, once was? i imagine it sometimes, not with my love, never with him. i love his boisterousness, the way he talks too loudly and bark laughs “inappropriately” and needs to be moving even slightly at all times. even at his stillest he twitches. my love fallen quiet and still would be,, beautiful as ever, but too much of a senseless and disgusting tragedy to think anything good of. but with someone i never knew before they. became. someone already gone purple and blue tinted like nemophila flowers and sickly sweet scented and soft. something i’ve only ever known as cold and gone. i imagine laying my head on their stomach and the softness of their insides, not jostled by breath or muscles tensing or worried for hurting them. running my hands through soft, icy hair, long cold from the lack of heat to soak up from the scalp (and shearing off a lock to keep), with no response, no movement. i cant help but imagine soft and cold flesh against mine. sapping up any heat until we both rest at room temperature, resting for so long. kissing dry, unresponsive lips softly, not enough to disturb, just chastely and secure in the knowledge that theyd never want more. id be so heartbroken when it was time to bury them. id hate to be away so long, but there are some stages of rot that the living body just can’t stand to be near without needing a doctor, god forbid a hospitalization, a separation. id come back of course. id be checking in regularly, to see if they were ready to go back home with me. finally, finally when all that remained were dry and brittle bones, they could come back home with me. we couldnt stay together in the traditional, or um. original sense, obviously, suppose i roll over at night and send their remains scattering. but id take good care to find a good, daily usage for things, so we’d never truly be apart again. a skull on the mantle to be kissed on the forehead whenever i can, femurs used to adorn things here and there, delicate finger bones fashioned into worry stones to be stroked constantly, little reminders, constantly holding hands long after theyre gone.

#corpsegirl posting #i want. a dead girl gf. #graves is polyamory allowed if my other partner is a corpse. #actuallynecro #a bit. #all of this is roleplay by the way. do not fucking term me

[themolldollincident]

Oh, the horrors, oh the delights, etc

I do not want to be this type of animal etc? Not anymore! I have found the type of animal i DO wish to be, and it's me! Only took me, what... 27 years? Am i 28 yet?... Am I 27?? 14?? I dont remember. But I'm glad to have Molly back with me. Molly is glad to finally have the life she wanted. And Molly can be me and can stop just holding all the sad shit. Very excited for this next bit. Foaming at the mouth, actually. I think im gonna make it till im 30!! ME, 30! Me, who was born from that one singular google search that made everything fall into place. Happier than ever, but robbed of a childhood by the world surrounding. And MOLLY'S gonna make it to 30, too!! MOLLY, my missing childhood, who grew stunted, immobile, and foggy under poor conditions and only got to thrive once in the sun for a brief moment before she died. (They made me kill her like we were two prisoners in an arena but i swear i was trying to love her). But i finally stopped trying to forgive her (since she should never have apologized) and we let ourselves forget about forgiving and fell into the mud and rolled around together and we laughed, actually, and she'd never laughed that hard before in her life. And now we are friends and we make out and hold hands in parking lots and do drugs and sell sex to strangers and we steal and we love and we admire and we feel awe and we fall into the vastness of joy without worrying about a landing. Because really thats all she always wanted to do, but they lied to her and told her she'd never be happy as the thing she wanted to be. But we've never been happier or more ourself now, and their god is nowhere to be seen (we've stolen a few of their foot soldiers, so he very rarely shows his face here. I can be in my room without him holding a gun to the back of my head!!!) Anyway. We're mad and we've been mad since 7 years old. So as you can imagine thats very few memories remaining before it all started. But its not a bad thing to rot sometimes as long as it sows the necessary vitamins for new growth. And the growth cycle is coming around again!! Right on schedule lol. I have so many things i desperately want to do, but the world is difficult, and my goals require a frugality that is so so tragic when you put that fragility - uh, sorry - frugality in front of that excitement and verve and lust for life and the urge to CREATE!!! But i dont need to rush. I have time. After all, im not even 30 yet. The most fun part hasn't even started. Its all about to get so much better i cant even imagine it. Poverty can slow me down, but it can only stop me by killing me. And babe im still alive after ALL THAT, aren't I?? So im doing my best. I have warm dry socks. Warm dry socks. Warm dry socks AND a few bills on autopay - well, blow me down! And MOST incredible of all, i have a new toy and a new place to feed my god. I've fed it there two days now, and it fills me with such excitement and joy!! I'm glad I stuck around, think i might just do it as long as i can.

[mothman-clarice]

I'm back bitches :)

My hyperfixations tend to shift around a lot every few days so that's why I vanished for a bit but I'm back on my hannibal brain rot so here we go.

This time I'm gonna be writing some rough notes about a fanfic I may or may not write at some point. It's the one I talked about briefly in my patrick Bateman post where I wondered what would happen if he met hannibal. I'll try to make a break in the text so if you wanna wait until the fanfic comes out you can read it spoiler free. This is mostly to help me try to make a story outline.

I originally thought clarice and hannibal would go on a trip to NYC but I soon realized that was a bad idea considering their "status"

So I decided Patrick would go on a trip abroad to Argentina with his new fiancee and that's how theyd meet

It starts with clarice and hannibal perusing the local market. They're looking at some produce when they overhear a man starting to raise his voice

Its patrick in an argument with a shopkeeper over the price of some fish which is rapidly escalating. Think the scene of him arguing with the lady in the dry cleaners

He suddenly stops, looks around and then grabs the shopkeeper by the collar, pulling them close as he whispers through gritted teeth

"Listen here BITCH, I will fucking fillet your ass if you dont shut those cock sucking lips of yours, UNDERSTAND?"

Hannibal and clarice take notice of the situation and silently agree to investigate, doing their best to blend in while getting closer so they can gather more information

Clarice goes into undercover FBI agent mode and hannibal listens while on standby as backup in case things get ugly

The situation isnt descalating so clarice eventually decides to tell hannibal they should try to intervene to protect the shopkeeper, but advises hannibal they should be slow and cautious

She says from the sounds of how he was talking to the shopkeeper (who was a woman) she noted he seemed to use a lot of vaguely misogynist language so she figured hannibal would be better to be the first one to intervene. Hannibal is bigger, older, and overall would command this mans attention better from what little clarice could tell about his character

Hannibal finally clears his throat, "excuse me? Is there a problem here?" He asks politely with a twinge of concern

Patrick stares at hannibal like a deer in headlights, his whole body frozen. All the blood seemed to instantly drain from his face as his mind races, "oh fuck how much did they hear? Was I being that loud? Fuck fuck fuck"

Patrick stands up straight and faces hannibal with a completely shifted demeanor recognizing him as an older obviously well off man similar to himself.

The shopkeeper stares at hannibal and clarice with a look of fearful hope, gazing at them as if they were angels who'd come to save her from certain death

P: "oh no need to worry, it was a minor... dispute." He smiles with gritted teeth.

Hannibal looks at patrick with a sort of side eye, unsure of whether he should pretend to believe him or confront him

Before he can decide patrick pipes up and tries to derail the topic. "Are those oxfords? Midnight blue if I'm correct? I must say you clearly have impeccable taste, sir. And your vest! My oh my you must tell me the name of your tailor!" He puts on an unnaturally wide smile

Hannibal looks over at clarice who nods subtly, gesturing to go along with it

"My tailor? Well I go to Kingsman, they're an english tailor shop that's been around for centuries and served countless members of nobility. They're absolute masters of their craft."

They keep patrick engaged in conversation and slowly guide him away from the now deeply relieved shopkeeper.

"Kingsman, I've definitely heard of them before. I knew you had to be European, I've just never heard an accent like yours before. I must say sometimes it can be boring spending all my time amoung my fellow american wolves of wallstreet," he gives a chuffed smile and straightens his tie.

Hannibal and clarice both immediately understand the kind of person they're dealing with, the dreaded wallstreet yuppie.

H: "Ohh Wallstreet huh? Interesting."

Patrick's chin lifts slightly and his grin grows as he bathes in what he thinks is Hannibal's admiration.

P: "Say, who's this lovely specimen you've got here?" He suddenly notices the gorgeous Clarice standing close to Hannibals side.

Her hair formed perfect shimmering waves which framed her freckled face perfectly. She wore a gorgeous summer dress and a sun hat which gave her a certain feminine softness, almost like Lolita. She really had outdone herself with her appearance today.

"You can call me June, Luca is my husband." She gives him a confident smile and gestures to hannibal who gives a nod to patrick.

C: "And your name is?"

Patrick is a little taken aback by her assertiveness but tries to brush it off. "Patrick Bateman. I'm from New york city, I'm visiting Argentina with my fiancée. I must say it can be quite breathtaking. Judging by your fair faces I'm assuming neither of you are from here either," he chuckles with his eyes trained on hannibal

C: "Oh yeah we immigrated here a few years ago. Couldnt stand the cold of Canada and needless to say we never looked back."

For a very brief moment Patrick's irritation became barely visible on his face, merely a twitch of his brow and lip as he cast a glance at clarice. However, Hannibals keen eye was able to spot this microaggression. Despite this he continued to play along, wanting to investigate this figure further.

H: "how about we go get some coffee and chat, my treat." Hannibal put on a smile.

P: "I think that would be lovely, thank you!"

They made their way to a local cafe, ordered their drinks and settled at a table when clarice spoke up.

"Oh would you excuse us for a moment? I need to ask luca about something privately."

"Of course! Take your time," yet again that creepy ass grin.

The couple walk outside and stand close with hushed voices.

C: "what do you think so far?"

H: "Clearly he seems to have a distaste for confident women. He threw quite a rude look at you whenever you spoke."

"Yeah I thought I felt some aggression coming off him too. Not surprising considering how he was yelling at that woman before."

"So what are we thinking? Should we keep up the investigation? Someone who treats honest workers like that surely is too violent to mingle with the public."

"I think we should, theres something about him... something that feels especially wrong. Like he's not just a guy with anger issues, theres gotta be something more."

I'm gonna stop there for now. I feel like I've got a good flow going. Hopefully I kept it at least somewhat engaging lol, I felt like I was getting a bit too involved in their small talk at certain points but I hope I fixed that. I'm excited to see where my brain takes this idea! :D

#clarice starling #hannibal #hannibal lecter #silence of the lambs #sotl #the silence of the lambs #thomas harris #hannibal the cannibal #clannibal #hannibal au #patrick bateman #american psycho

[autismsubway-remade]

theres a way back home chapter 7 (tws for this chapter: mild injury description, mentions of blood, nightmares, panic attacks, general ptsd and unintentional self harm. sorry akari.) PROSHIPPERS DNI. I WILL THROTTLE YOU. (every interaction is platonic and familial! dont be fucking weird!!!!)

Everything was red. Akari's hands were warm and sticky, the pungent metallic scent of blood carried by the biting wind. It was everywhere, the snow, her hands, her chest, the sky, and pouring from the Zoroarks gaping maw. It sneered at her, breath thick and heavy with the scent of rot and blood. It opened its jaw further, and spoke.

"You could have done more. You could have saved him. Now look at him."

Ingo was on the ground, dead.

"You killed him."

The zoroark moved closer, limping towards her with an unnatural gait. Its claws dragged against the snow, staining it a further red.

"Now, you will join him."

It's fangs latched onto her neck and-

Akari woke up, a scream dying in her throat and drenched in a cold sweat. She felt like she was suffocating, bringing her knees up to her chest and burying her face in them. She swallowed down her nausea, nails digging crescents into her arms and hands shaking. Small pinpricks of blood raised from her arms where her nails were dug in.

Akari stared at her arms. Stared at the blood under her nails. Suddenly she was back in that forest, Ingo's blood drying on her clothes, her hands, her face, flaking into the snow and the sneaslers basket and-

She slapped a hand over her mouth, gagging. She rushed out of her tent, the outside still pitch black. Akari collapsed into the snow, breathing and swallowing heavily to prevent herself from vomiting. She couldn't breathe, couldn't think, blood was dripping down her arms and she could practically still smell the stench of rot from the zoroark, could still feel its breath on her neck.

She felt like she was dying, heart hammering in her chest so loud that it was all she could hear, pins and needles from the cold reminiscent of spiders crawling up, up, up her body.

She stood up on shaky legs and shambled over to the medical tent, limbs heavy with lead and panic.

Akari fell over, facedown in the snow. Her breathing was uneven, shallow and fast. She was lightheaded, the world spinning rapidly around her.

"C-Chiyo.." She muttered, like a whisper in the wind. She passed out.

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

Ingo woke up to the sound of shuffling outside, and heavy sobs. He knew that sound.

Akari.

Worry bloomed in his chest, why was she here? Why was she outside at night in a near snowstorm?

A thud, the sound of a body collapsing in the snow.

He bolted out of bed, ignoring the sharp pain that flared from his abdomen. He opened the door to the medical tent, frantic. Where was she?

A body.

Akari was lying facedown in the snow, hyperventilating and sobbing with dried blood on her arms. She was muttering something, something he couldnt decipher.

"Akari! You have to get up, you should not be out here!" She didn't respond, just weakly clawed at the snow. "C-Chiyo....." She mumbled, a plead.

She went limp.

Icy fear took hold, freezing Ingo from the inside out. He flipped her over, only slightly relieved when he realized she was still breathing. Her skin was clammy with sweat, but burning with fever. Her breaths were getting caught in her chest, blood caked under her nails and obvious imprints on her arms.

The wind picked up slightly, a signal of Chiyo's arrival. She made a worried sound, motioning for Ingo to help her pick up the young teen. He ignored any pain he felt, because he knew he would be fine.

"I will go speak to the old warden. Stay here." Chiyo said, tone leaving no room for arguement. He nodded in understanding, placing Akari on one of the empty cots and lighting the small gas lamp in the corner. Ingo gently wiped the blood off of her arms and from under her nails, and waited. He could do nothing else.

The old warden, warden Calaba rushed in. She took one look at Akari, and clicked her tongue.

"She showed no signs of illness before this, correct?" Calaba asked Chiyo, who nodded.

"When.." Ingo cleared his throat, willing to keep the fear out of his voice. "I heard her outside. She was hyperventilating and crying, before collapsing in the snow. She passed out shortly after, with a fever. I don't know high it is but...It does not feel good."

Calaba nods solemnly. "Unfortunately, traumatic events are even more traumatic to children. I wouldn't be suprised if it was a stress fever."

Chiyo looks guilty.

"I should've been there for her. I was foolish enough to go on patrol, assuming she would sleep soundly."

The froslass wrings her hands in worry, body shaking. "I. I could have prevented this." Her voice hints at something deeper, hidden under layers of ice and feigned indifference. Ingo places a hand on top of Chiyo's.

"Nobody is at fault other than the zoroark that attacked me. And, if I am presuming correctly, it is dead." Chiyo nods. "It is. I made sure of it. But..It is still harming her, even in death."

"That is not something either of us can control. Pain can transcend life or death, that is just how it is." Chiyo shakes a little more. She knows that all too well.

All too well.

She places her hand on Akari's forehead, willing her body temperature to drop further to bring her ray of light some comfort. Akari sighs, nuzzling into the cool touch.

"Very touching. But, we still need to reduce her fever. Young man, grab me a kings leaf will you? These brittle bones don't stretch like they used to." He does, politeness ingraved into his entire being even though he knows Calaba is just trying to distract him.

It works, a little bit. Him and Chiyo help prepare the fever reducer, as he grinds the kings leaf and Chiyo watches with a mothers eye.

The herbs are ground into a paste, placed in a small mesh bag and mixed with an herbal tea. Calaba boils water, and motions for both him and Chiyo to sit.

Her face is grim.

"Ingo, how did you not re open your wound? It has only been 4 days since your injury."

He...

He doesn't know. He was sure it had reopened when he helped carry Akari, but it was fleeting.

Odd.

"I do not know that, warden. I feel like...It did, but then didn't. It was open for a split second, but then closed right back up." He absentmindedly rubs at his wrist, and it glows slightly.

"Um. That is new."

It glows brighter, spreading to the wound on his abdomen and leg before disappearing entirely. They feel tight and warm, but not unpleasantly.

"Almighty Sinnoh....You have been blessed by Almighty Sinnoh!" Calaba says suddenly, and feels around his bandaged torso. She unwraps the bandages, and finds instead of a still stitched together wound a scar. Not neat by any means, but a scar nonetheless.

What exactly is going on?

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

Akari drifts in and out of sleep, fever sweltering and parching her throat. Her limbs feel like they've been tied down, and time feels sluggish and thick. Anytime she opens her eyes, she is forced to drink some kind of tea, gets wiped down, and quickly falls back into sleep. After what seems like an eternity, she wakes up and doesn't feel like she was just hit by a train. (What is a train?)

Ingo is nearby, stretching. His bones pop and crack, snapping not unlike a glowstick. He grumbles something about feeling old, before noticing her.

"Akari! You're awake!" She nods, throat too dry to speak. Chiyo (when did she get here?) hands her a glass of water, perfectly chilled. Hell yeah.

Akari chugs it, sheer willpower keeping her from choking.

"Why am I here?" She says, and Ingo looks slightly solemn.

"Stress fever. You collapsed in the snow 3 days ago." 3.

3 days ago?!

"Wh- Have I been asleep that long?!" Akari asks, panic rising. "You have been in and out of sleep. You needed it, child." Chiyo speaks, and brushes her hair out of her face. "You are still not fully well. Your fever has broken momentarily, but we must monitor you in case it appears again." She pulls Akari into a hug. "I wasn't there to comfort you that night. I am sorry, child." Akari tears up.

"Not your fault." Is all she can say, burying her face into the froslasses chest. Ingo rubs her back.

"Sorry. I'm.." She waves her hands a little. "Emotional. All the time." Ingo laughs a little.

"Every teenager is emotional, Akari. It comes with the territory I'm afraid." He's not wrong. Puberty is a bitch.

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

3 days later, Akari is well enough to leave again. She clings close to Ingo and Chiyo, not wanting to be alone. Cheeseburger greets her excitedly, tail wagging a mile a minute and yipping at her to be picked up and held.

"Haha, Hi cheesy! You missed me, huh?" Cheeseburger yips in confirmation, licking Akari's face as she giggles.

The zorua pup wiggles around in excitement, jumping out of Akari's arms to run circles around her and playfully nip at her boots. She sits down on the floor of her tent, chasing the pup around with her fingers and tickling it when she catches it.

"What a good baby! So strong and fierce, are you gonna catch the evil hands! Yes! Yes you are!" She babytalks.

Chiyo looks slightly confused. "Ingo. Ingo she is treating the pup like a human child. Why is she doing that?"

"I will not claim to understand the whims of a teenage girl." He says, suddenly feeling 30 years older. Cheeseburger tires itself out, and by extension Akari. She valiantly tries to stay awake, offering to help Chiyo cook.

"You must rest. I will wake you up when it's time to eat." Akari mumbles something like 'okay, mom' and Chiyo tries really, really hard not to cry.

Akari is asleep within minutes, Cheeseburger snuggled up on top of her in a little ball of baby.

"Ingo. Can you help cut the vegetables?" Chiyo asks him, an invitation to teach him how to cook better. She definitely noticed how thin he was, and that just wouldn't do!

She sounds like her mother.

Having been dead for over 300 years has dulled the grief, but it's still there. Chiyo remembers her mother. She was kind and patient, and gone far too soon. Perhaps an early death ran in the family.

It was no use reminiscing.

Not now, at least.

Ingo is suprisingly skilled at dicing vegetables, but not much else.

"It was the easiest thing to help with, so I did it a lot. I think." Was his only explanation. She accepts it.

The tent is pleasantly quiet and warm from the fire, the smell of a hearty stew wafting through the air like a comfortable blanket. Cheeseburger wakes up to beg for scraps, and Chiyo graciously acquiesces and gives the puppy a small plate of fish scraps. She ignores that it calls her grandma. She is still far too young to be a grandmother, even at 314 years old.

Akari wakes up before the stew is finished, and goes to play outside. She drags Ingo along, telling him he needs more sun or else he's going to look like a grandpa forever.

"I'm 27."

"I don't care! You look old."

"Why do I look old?"

She points to the small scruff on his chin. "That's why. It turns the babyface into oldface."

He supposes that she's right. Ingo doesn't look at his reflection much, something inside him wanting to avoid it as much as possible, so he didn't know.

Well, whatever. Akari starts a snowball fight, greatly underestimating how good his aim is, and it continues until they both get scolded by Calaba for not resting. Akari throws a snowball at her.

For a 94 year old woman, she sure is spry.

They bolt into the tent, laughing so hard that their sides hurt, and Chiyo just looks at Ingo like he's a bad influence. He begs to differ.

Dinner is warm and hearty, even if Chiyo fusses over how skinny he is (and really, he's not that skinny. He's the normal weight! Probably. Maybe.)

Akari asks him to stay.

"If...If I have that dream again I wanna know that you're here. That you aren't..." The 'dead' goes unspoken. Ingo understands, and so he stays.

Akari sleeps through the night.

#arceus chosen au #writing #pla #pokemon legends arceus #warden calaba #ingo #warden ingo #akari #trainer akari #froslass #submas

[supportl0v3r]

snow. cold.

‼️TW: implied abuse, violence, self harm, eating disorders, sexual harassment/abuse, suicidal thoughts, alcohol, smoking, maybe others i missed, just pure brutal sadness pain and rage ‼️

something that has been sitting in my notes forever, rotting, needing to get out. and for everyone that might be worried, i'm alright dw 😭

(english isn't my first language bla bla bla sorry for any mistakes)

snow. cold. i have layers over layers of clothing on to protect me from the cold. i am kept warm by them, as i am by my mother's love. she cares for me. or so i think, i cant know better. im instructed to stay dry, as to not catch a cold. i play, i have fun, mess around with the other kids.

as we're all wet and covered in snow from head to toe i struggle to understand why the other mothers aren't hitting their children for this, as mine does. i am barely 3.

voices. school begins. i wonder why my skin is full of purple red yellow and green shapes while the other kids look spotless. i am 7.

i try my best and give my all. i am the best in class. i dont understand why they're yelling to do more and try harder. i dont understand why its not enough. why im not enough. im told im bad and a disappointment. i am 10.

sobs. i cry and i want to disappear. i hear that im the reason mum wants to leave, i hear her complain. i cry on the bathroom floor all night, holding the house key once again, afraid she'll be away in the morning if i go to sleep and leave the door unattented, as it had happened before. i just turned 12

raised voices. we disagree, i try to explain my point of view. she thinks i wish to fight. im threatened to get kicked out. i return from school to an empty house and i sob my heart out. i dont comprehend why expressing my opinions to my own mother gets her to leave me. i blame myself and red starts blooming all over. my skin and limbs would never be the same. i am just 13

butterflies. i have my first date. my first relationship. i keep it a secret, of course. the words ring in my ears, deafening, hearing my mothers voice over and over again together with my beloved's. "you're not good enough". i am left, once again. i am 14.

force. power. for the first time i feel the air leaving my lungs. i feel my throat close up under the pressure of a hand. i see a red face screaming and pure anger in his eyes. i would never be able to see my father the same after this. simply stating my opinion has brought this upon me, and i am still 14

panic. i hide in the bathroom and lock the door behind me as the pounding rings in my ears. she wants me to open it. she wants to kill me. i cant stop crying.

pain. my head hurts and bleeds. my hair is messed up. my neck is sore. ive been grabbed by the hair and shoved in the wall multiple times. how could a mother do this. i cant understand. i am 15

she says my hair is ugly so i cut and dye it. she says my face looks bad and my smile is ugly so i train myself to look different. she says im fat and there's no way someone as hideous as me came from someone like her. so i destroy myself over and over again, my body and my organs suffer for her words. i would never see food the same way ever again for the rest of my life. i am 15 and a half.

bliss. i date a girl, and she tells me she loves me, she opposes everything my mother ever said, and it feels like a breath of fresh air, to be loved. my mother disagrees. she looks at me with disgust and hatred, disappointment. she tells me to end things, because that girl is lying anyway. how could i ever be loved, she says. she knows me best and tells me i am deeply fucked up with too many flaws for anyone to truly love me. my own mother deems me un-loveable and my heart breaks in a million pieces. my mother says it plainly in my face that i will never be good enough for her and that she hates having to put up with me all day. i accept the fact that she doesnt love me. im just 16.

men. boys. they keep whistling after me on the streets. they keep catcalling me. almost every friend ive had sees me as a target and a trophy. my value lays in my curves and my beauty, no matter how smart id be. i barely escape assault almost every week. the friend i had trusted to come over to hang out one day forces me to let him spend the night. he touches me while im asleep and refuses to leave even when i physically try to kick him out. touching me is more important than what i feel. i return from school in the bus. a man. he's drunk he's perverted, he smiles at nudes on his phone wnd he drinks and drinks and drinks again

tou chi ng,

HURT in g,

m e

. .

nobody does a thing except watch. i get home looking for my mother's safety, her arms, her love.

she's mad i was late, not caring about the circumstances and about what happened, and i feel the ground beneath me break apart and swallow me whole. she says i'm to blame for it all, for them all. she takes her anger out on me. i am still 16

stars, i meet a boy. he's smart and kind and considerate. hes there and helps me up every time i fall, his being full of comfort. for once in my life i feel safe and at peace. i try my best to return the feeling to him. we get closer and i know ive fallen deep. perhaps so has he. drunk behaviours are sober thoughts after all, are they not? i'll never know as i start distancing myself from him. he's everything i had ever wanted, and so he deserves someone whole. someone not scarred or hurt or broken in a million pieces. he deserves stability and happiness and i dont believe i could provide that. i KNOW i cant. i cry and cry, my blood boiling with pain at what we could've been, the life i could've had. my throat swells up with unsaid words, unspoken feelings.

they treat me like a child and expect the behaviour of an adult. i am supposed to take my mother's place. cook. clean. dishes. laundry. i am told i am a woman. i am told i must do these in order to prepare myself for my future marriage. my husband would surely want a housewife who would do everything he pleases. my own father complains i dont act alike to my mother. like a wife and like a slave. i struggle to understand: shouldn't he warn me to find someone good and kind? why isn't he? then again, i remember his rage and my throat closes up, burying my words with it, remembering how the hand felt around my neck. ironically i cannot remember my mother's embrace or how "i love you" would sound from her lips. i haven't really thought about it now, i wonder if i ever even experienced either of them. i am 16 and a half

i am 2 months away from 17. my father tells me i make him want to take his life, bash his head on the walls. he hits his head hard on a wardrobe. he starts violently crying and sobbing asking the world "GOD what did i do to deserve this WHAT DID I DO WRONG" he says he'll leave and never return, to never see me, ever again. ive brought him to his breaking point and it makes me wonder how awful i must be. he says i have no heart and no soul. what could make a parent see that in their child? despite my obedience, my attempts to please him, he breaks me once again. being his slave was not enough this time either. i fall to the ground and cry myself empty. my body, my mind, my lungs will have to take the pain for me, since i no longer can. the only reason i do not decide to put an end to it myself is that i would be much more of an inconvenience to those who know me, were i dead, instead of alive. how ironic. by living i can keep myself out of their ways. by dying i disrupt and bother the balance they have built for themselves. i'll keep going, clinging into sanity by my fingernails.

i think i might be loved by the boy, but who will ever know, i promise myself to stay away for his own good. he would change his mind if he knew all of me anyway, its for the better no matter how much it breaks my heart. i dont think this time i can build myself up again. i cant risk letting myself love or be loved again, even if it would help. heal even. but at the expense of others's comfort, and that i cant allow. was my father right? am i with no heart and soul? i must be, but who'll ever know. its for the best even tho it rips me apart.

i see the pictures of all the years above. i look at a toddler, barely 3. i wonder how could anyone raise their hand at a child like this, i could not comprehend even raising my voice at her. i look at all of them, all of me, everything ive been over the years and everything ive hurt and killed because of her. because of them. i cry. i realise it was all in vain. i am 17 and i cant understand why, but i finally see it: my mother probably never loved me to begin with. i have ruined my own life chasing something that could never even be there.

i understand the future is pointless and everything is in vain. i punch the walls and sob whats left of my heart out. there was nothing i could have done to prevent it, others have ruined my life for me before i even realized i was living it. it is unfair but theres nothing to do about it now. i wash my face and accept my fate. i stare into the mirror at the girl im seeing. years from now, when ill have a mediocre job, mediocre life. ill be middle aged and still alone, ill look back to those pictures and apologize to the girl i was, as im doing now with the other versions of myself. i can almost hear it. "im SO sorry" as if the cruelty of my past was my fault, as if i could have done anything to save her from this fate.

snow. cold. bitterness in my heart and in my body brought by the bottle and by the smoke leaving my bloody lips. if only i could let the darkness consume me,

s et

m e

fr e e

. . . .

#writing #modern poetry #original art #art #childhood #mommy issues lol #and daddy issues too lmao #cruelty #poetry #Spotify #tw vent #vent post #vent #pls read #writers on tumblr #writers and poets #writeblr #writerscommunity

[homophyte]

OKAY plants update: just now i replaced the pebbles in the pebble trays of all the nepenthes except Moe with a whole bunch of marbles i just had, around, for reasons. i cleaned everything nice including the trays themselves and the pebbles will go back where they came from, eventually. what you can also see in this second picture here is the new ventrata pitchers on these babies! im expecting that big one on the left to pop open any day, which is nice. im definitely happy to see those start to accelerate their growth (nice leaf jumps!) so now im just waiting on the gayas to hopefully improve, hopefully.

next up is Moe herself cause theres a few things going on that are all connected, as far as i can tell. i forget if ive said this before but Moie right now has a bunch of basals (four, as far as i can tell-- you can see really well the different stems from left to right in those top two pics) and ive decided this time to just leave them, for two reasons: 1, i dont really have the space or desire to separate them and 2, i kinda wanna see what happens if i leave them? ive heard its possible that basals make more pitchers than the main stem so, well see. there ARE some babies on them--one of which is really big and will probably open soon but whether it will be MORE is...i dunno.

what i DO know is that the resource demands that the basals have--which is a lot, since their leaves are big and getting larger all the time and theyre making pitchers--is draining the main stem. not enough to kill it, mind, im not worried about that but enough that its noticeably not doing as good as it was. for one, the new leaves take much longer to form and when they do theyre smaller, and not only smaller but each new one is seemingly smaller than the last. its just not an energy priority to keep making them and keep making them big. the other thing is this:

which honestly i dont actually know if its related to the basals. this is the newest formed pitcher, the one it made in july, and, like. i dunno this makes me sad. obviously the worse case here is rot, which id have to cut and probably will anyway. im not super worried about it spreading to much of the other plant from this but it would be for certain a bad sign. what i think this more likely is is just..natural pitcher aging and death. they brown and dry from the tips down. the only confusing thing is that this is the YOUNGEST pitcher or, like, the one youd expect to die LAST. i dunno what thats about but my suspicion is that because the basals are being very energy demanding right now and probably will continue to be, the plant is diverting energy away from keeping its other newest growth in tip top shape, so you get smaller new leaves and the newest pitcher dying. i dont know that for sure, but ill be keeping an eye out to tell as closely as i can, cause this definitely just...feels bad.

next steps are basically winter prep! i have artificial lights to supplement daylight for all the neps, i know i can maintain humidity, i have a plan for the sarracenias dormancy. i wanna give basically everything some nice big meals before Bugs become a bit scarcer in the winter--im considering purchasing those fish food things people feed to pitchers even but i dunno how necessary that really is..whats left is two main things.

1 is repotting the sarracenia because Holy Moly did it get big fast. it keeps making new pitchers and theyre SO huge they just crowd each other like crazy and get deformed, but even with repotting i dunno how much of that i can change. probably the best for that is separating it from the rhizome but i also kinda dont want to do that? it just looks nice all full like this--and also it would be something to do at the end of dormancy, in the spring, definitely not now. i should also do this like....frankly asap. november is about when ill need to move it to its dormancy spot and thats not that far off! i want to give it some time to adjust to the larger pot size before, and if i wait too long ill have to do it after dormancy which like, i could do and it would be fine but honestly id just feel bad about having put it off. spring is the best time to make big changes for a reason but just upsizing the pot in a soft repot isnt actually big enough to justify waiting the same way separating the rhizome would be, for example.

2 is to change Moes set up. so like. i like Moes set up and from how well its thriving i think it does too but the fact of the matter is uhhh shes BIG. quickly becoming too big for the hanging pot its in now. i would not be surprised if she reaches my ceiling in another few months if i dont move her. the hanging basket is rn serving the dual purpose of supporting the vine--it would not be able to stand so well on its own and especially with how large it is its heavy enough to probably break under its own weight. so the plan is to make a moss pole with a pole my mom found and the moss i bought recently, and attach it to that instead. then i can take it out of the basket and put it on this lovely little plant stand i found instead! that will go basically in the same spot on the desk as the other plants are now. as much as i like the hanging look its not long term practical and really prevents me from moving or uhhh doing much of anything with Moe! its very hard to water and mist her cause i have to basically stand on top of the desk to reach and is basically in a lot of ways Pretty but not Optimal. with it NOT hanging ill be able to make changes and check stuff way more readily.

#myposts #plants tag #sorry if the picture quality is bad i usually upload them directly from my phone but #tumblr mobile was being a dick and not letting me Make Posts so i had to transfer them a bunch and they prob lost quality

[syngonivm]

made my username syngonium but im about to kill my third one 💀 its the only plant i keep killing i dont understand 😭😭😭 i have happy alocasias and prayer plants but syngoniums known to be good for beginners and easy to take care of keep dying with me and theyre my favorites too

i replaced the two that died to root rot and i think it was like transplant shock plus maybe the greenhouse kept them too moist? its 100% humidity there most of the time.. now my confetti baby plant is wilting 💀 and its in a terracotta pot with super chunky and drain-y but moisture retaining soil (a ton of perlite in there and coco coir) the soil n plant came from someone who was super into plants and had like all the rare ones flourishing so i doubt the soil is an issue.. but its dry like all the time? maybe it needs more water but when i checked roots the ends were dark and wilted but dry 😩 what does it all meannnn how did i overwater a plant with so many precautions even rn the soil is bone dry all the way through and i watered it yesterday but i worry about watering it now cause it's so soon and i also snipped the wilted roots off..

[geesecannotlove]

This little thing was inspired by the song Lollipop by Mika and a geico commercial so theres that but it was fun to write.

•Candy For The Soul•

"You wouldn't believe it granny, my neighbor moved and they left me a casserole." Kirishima Eijirou whined from where he sat on top of a rental washing machine.

The little laundromat run by a little old woman with a big heart and healing kisses was only a block away from the run down apartment the red head had come to call home. His neighbor, a single mom with 3 kids had taken it upon herself to make sure Kirishima was taking care of himself so far away from his own family. But now she was gone and his already empty pockets screamed in agony.

"I don't know what I'm going to do once I eat it all. Fat says I can't pick up anymore shifts at the grocer this month." Kirishima was loud, his feet clanking against the machine, "Can I have a sweet?"

The woman smiled and laughed softly but nodded nonetheless. Across from the washers a small glass bowl full of lollipops taunted the boisterous man.

"You could clean out the machines for me, I'd spare you some change for the effort." The old woman laughed.

"Nah, I'll clean em free of charge Granny, I'm happy to help." Kirishima said quickly, "I'm just complaining is all."

"Well, of you insist, then take another Lollipop before you go today."

Kirishima flashed a smile too big for his face and reclaimed his spot perched on the washing machine. His clothes dancing in cold water to keep them sturdy longer. His long red hair had begun to fade, some parts nearly orange from where the sun had left bruising kisses and a white headband hid black roots that had started to show. He had contemplated just cutting it and starting over, but the thought made him uneasy.

"I would granny, but my momma said, too much candy will rot your soul." Kirishima hummed, still only one sweet grasped in his worn hands.

"Your Momma sounds like a smart woman." The little old woman nodded, her worn book firmly closed in order to give her full attention.

"Ah yeah, she was." That was always the end of that conversation, his words would die off and soon the first dryer would beep. The woman would lift her book and he would pair his patterned socks, stuck in his own head.

"Well thanks again Granny." Kirishima finally would hum and he'd grab his too full basket of clothes and strike back out into the night, neon signs scaring away the darkness and the stars alike.

"Here." Eijirou offered a gentle smile as he tossed a few spare coins into a man's hat, "I'm sorry I don't have more this time dude."

"Thank you Kirishima." The man whispered, tears welling up in golden eyes.

Kaminari Denki, a failed musician who Kirishima had grown fond of. They talked everytime Kirishima passed him and offered what he could, be it coins or the already threadbare jacket that hung from his broad shoulders.

"The offer still stands Kami, the couch is small but all yours if you want it."

"No. I can't do that, but thank you."

"I'll ask again tomorrow."

"I know."

Kirishima first asked a year ago in the dead of winter. The electric blond already swallowed up Kirishima's best coat and gloves. The hat his Momma knitted nestled on the blond's head. Even then it was a no. Kaminari like so many others moved to the city for freedom. Kirishima would be lying if he said he didn't understand why the blond rejected the offer. Freedom was addicting, even if it wasn't ideal, Kaminari had taken the reins of his life and was reluctant to let go.

Kirishima was just as greedy. He lived in an old studio apartment barely furnished with a hole in the corner that gave a view at the downstairs hallway. His worn twin sized mattress on the floor in the opposite corner and a couch in front of an empty entertainment center. His fridge was nearly empty and the apartment burned with the smell of a constantly working coffee maker. Though Kirishima supposed the smell was better than rotting wood and dirty socks that always seemed to pile up.

A single picture of his family hung crooked on the wall and letters he always meant to open had piled up on one end of the couch. Kirishima was no different then most people in the city. He wanted control, a chance at their he couldn't have at home. With freshly dyed hair and a bag carrying his most worldly possessions, a wad of cash shoved in his pockets he caught a train out of his home town at 3 am on a Tuesday morning. He stuck a job at a local grocer, owned by a retired fireman, a hero in his own right. Now he was Kirishima's hero, helping him keep the shabby apartment over his head. Kirishima sighed as he dug for his keys. When he withdrew his hand, a still wrapped lollipop stared back up at him. He laughed, and despite himself he popped it in his mouth. A tune in his mind as he danced into his home a little extra pep in his step. Maybe it wasn't perfect but what he had was completely his.

\/\/\/

Like clockwork a week slugged by and Kirishima once again found himself in the too warm laundromat. The door swung open too fast and banged against the wall, his basket too full to see over and a bag full of his bedding on his shoulder.

"Sorry Granny." Kirishima laughed.

Normally at this time, when sun had only just begun its descent the laundromat was empty. But when the door swung open another set of eyes zeroed on to him. Crimsion just like his own. He had glasses pushed up into wild blond hair and a book in his hands. Kirishima's ears picked up the sound of running machines and the soft laughter of the laundromat owner.

"Oh, sorry to you too." Kirishima mumbled sheepishly dropping his things in front of a washer.

"If you're going to fucking talk to me speak up shitty hair." The blond snapped angrily.

The insult cut too deep for a remark from a stranger.

"I uh, was just sayin sorry." Kirishima tried again and the blond let out a content huff returning to his book.

"I've never seen you around." Kirishima hummed, throwing his sheets in with a cheap pod of soap.

"Cause I normally wouldn't waste my fucking time in a place like this. But my shitty washer," the blond hesitated before mumbling, "blew up."

"No way man, how does that even happen?" Kirishima laughed loudly, filling another machine with his clothes.

"Fuck if I know, but half my house is being rebuilt so here I am shithead."

Kirishima's laugh came out in bubbled snorts as he tried not to fully laugh at the other. Snagging a lollipop from the little dish he swung himself up onto the last machine he'd filled.

"Oi, don't fucking sit on them." Bakugo scolded.

"Nah, it's okay, right Granny?" Kirishima asked, wide eyes turned on the old woman.

"Of course deary."

Kirishima smirked triumphantly despite himself, sticking a blue dyed tongue at the new comer.

"Bastard how dare you." Bakugo snarled, tensing as if he was going to stand and fight.

"I'm just playin, Granny let's adults have lollipops too not just kids, want one?"

"Bastard, no I don't want a fucking lollipop."

Kirishima laughed loudly, his eyes pinching together and his tanned skin flushing a soft pink.

"You're a riot man. So what do you do?"

"Like I would tell you." Bakugo had pulled his glasses down to get a better look at the man before him.

The red head who looked too cheerful to be sitting on top of a washer in a cramped humid room, eating candy from a lead bowl too old to be causally used.

"Well I'm a grocery clerk at Fat's corner shop." Kirishima supplied easily.

"I actually didn't fucking ask." Bakugo tapped his book angrily against his knee, his nimble pointer finger still wedged firmly between pages.

"I know, but your washer still isn't done and the dryers will take at least an hour so I figure we've got time to kill man, and from the sound of it I'll see you around here until your washroom is fixed. So why not get to know one another." Kirishima kicked his feet like a child.

"I'm a fucking lab technician at the hospital."

"Oh man that's so cool, I dropped out of college to be an actor, it's why I'm here."

"And how'd that go?" The words were heavy, like he wanted to be rude but was worried it was too far.

"Not great, but you know, these things have slow periods." Kirishima reasoned, his words starting to dry up in his mouth like it did when something was too hard to think about. Like his momma.

Bakugo made no effort to fill the silence and he pushed his glasses back into his hair, his book falling open in his lap. Granny was in a similar state, leaning back in her old wicker chair the same old book in hand. Kirishima stopped kicking his feet. The candy in his mouth suddenly sour and tart, maybe it was his soul asking for a break.

\/\/\/\

It was only 3 days when Kirishima saw Bakugo again. This time the explosive blond strolled into Fat's corner store still in pale grey scrubs.

"Huh? You again, you've never worked this shift before." Bakugo snarled, slamming a premade sandwich on the counter.

"Yep! I picked up a few extras this week. Are you on lunch?" Kirishima hummed, "Bag?"

"Of course I'm on lunch shitty hair and no I dont want a fucking bag."

Again Kirishima felt disappointment swirl in his gut, "Hey, my hairs not shitty."

"Whatever," Bakugo squinted at his shirt, "/Kirishima/."

Eijirou flushed with colour, recalling they had never properly introduced. He'd picked up on so many other things, like the pink fabric softener tucked in his laundry bag, but Bakugo's brash attitude had taken up so much space in Kirishima's mind that he'd simply forgotten formalities.

"Right! Eijirou Kirishima nice to actually meet you." Kirishima trailed off hopefully extending a hand.

Bakugo swatted it away with a scoff but indulged the redhead anyway, "Katsuki Bakugo."

He was rude and angry but he was sticky in Kirishima's mind like a sun melted candy.

"Well come again soon Bakugo!" Kirishima chimed handing him his receipt and change, already moving on to the electrifying man who stood awkwardly in line.

"Hey Bro what's up?" Kirishima smiled even wider.

"Hey Kiri, when's your break?" Kaminari was messing with the ends of his startlingly yellow hair.

"Ah, 40 minutes, wanna meet outside?" Kirishima said, glancing at the clock beside his register that had a habit of ticking too loud.

"Yeah, thanks Kiri."

"Anything for a bro."

Kirishima's break came fast and he spent his loose cash on lunch for Kaminari. Waving him off when he had nothing to munch on alongside him.

"So what's up?"

"I don't want to sleep on your couch." Kaminari said firmly, his eyes alight with a fire Kirishima hadn't seen in a while.

"Alright?" Kirishima laughed curiously.

"But I need to borrow your address. I'm applying to work at the record shop, but I have to have proof of address." Kaminari's eyes were closed and fists balled at his side as if it hurt him to ask.

He'd been on his own for a while. Cold nights and dirty glares had tore him down but he'd come back again and again. His pride keeping him right where he was. Kirishima was pleased to see him changing direction even if only a little.

"Course." Kirishima smiled, "You know my neighbor moved out, so maybe if this works out, we could be neighbors."

"I'd like that."

Kaminari left before Kirishima's break came to an end, he'd left the soda untouched and slid close to Kirishima's leg on the bench the rested on. Eijirou gulped it down quickly before slipping back into the cool corner store. It was quite, though he assumed it always was at this time, Fat almost never needed someone else to work this shift, but Kirishima was persistent. In the silence of the slow period Kirishima's mind wondered to the blond lab technician and his lashing tongue, it drifted until he was standing in front of cheap boxes of dye. The black box loomed over him. Maybe it was spite against the world, the blond, or just his own mind.

But he latched onto the crimsion riot red and meandered back to his register. Freedom was addictive like candy on a holiday night, you always took too much but your heart always whispered that it didn't matter if you were happy.

/\/\/\/\

Kirishima's hair was down, framing his angular face for the first time in a while. Its colour once again a striking red that highlighted his eyes and natural flush. He entered the laundromat with only one basket, full of mindless copies of his work uniform.

"Deary, have been over working again?" Chiyo scolded making her way to Kirishima's side, looking at the colourful pinstriped shirts and black pants.

"Rent is due at the end of the week."

He was clearly tired, his movements slower and a yawn playing across his face more often then not.

"Well, make sure you're taking care of yourself. Have a lollipop."

"Thanks Granny, I will." Kirishima's bubbly laughter filled the humid room and Chiyo smiled softly.

A bubble gum sweet was popped in his mouth before he swung up onto the washer and flipped through a borrowed magazine.

"Oh so you can read. Maybe you're not as big an idiot as I thought." The blond gruff voice wrapped around Kirishima's mind. He was dressed in baggy black joggers and a childish shirt brandishing a skull. His glasses sat firmly on his nose and a permanent scowl pulled roughly at the edges of his face.

"Of course I can read." Kirishima defended quickly, "What's up dude?"

"I'm not your dude." Bakugo grumbled, slamming a washer full of scrubs shut.

"Come on man, don't be like that." Kirishima laughed out.

The sticky feeling that came with Bakugo was back, Kirishima giddily kicking his feet as he drew words from the blond.

"Woah 3 whole washers this time." Kirishima whistled after it became apparent Bakugo had nothing else to say, "Its only been a week man."

"You had 4 going last week, so shut up asshole." Bakugo snapped, dragging himself to sit on a washer across from Kirishima. The book from before left in his bag nestled next to the pink fabric softener and the dye washing pods. Kirishima found himself grinning wider, unable to contain the child like wonder of making a new friend.

"Why do you always do your laundry here anyway, doesn't that add up?" Bakugo grumbled ignorantly.

"My apartment building doesn't have a working laundromat anymore." Kirishima scoffed, "And Granny here really saved me, being only a few minutes away."

"Oh." Bakugo mused.

"How long do you think you'll be coming round Ba-ku-bro."

"Say that again and I'll punch you." Bakugo kicked out, his outstretched leg nearly long enough to reach across the cramped isle. Kirishima laughed childishly, kicking out his own leg to meet Bakugo in the middle. Kirishima's laughter was infectious, spreading to Bakugo like ants on a picnic blanket, his own snort filled laughter joining the other. There they were full grown men sitting on borrowed washers playing footsie. They kept up the playful banter while the washers rumbled. Bakugo's clothes frothing with hot water and coloured suds. Kirishima's finished first, the cold cycle much shorter, but Bakugo followed him over the wall of dryers anyway.

"Are those ducks?" Bakugo mused, pulling out a wet sock before Kirishima could shut the dryer door.

"Yeah, I think they're manly." Kirishima snatched back the sock, throwing in a wool ball he'd bought a while back to cut down on dryer sheet costs. It did okay. His clothes occasionally would crackle with static and if he didn't pick up his feet when he walked the metal door bar to leave the laundromat would shock him. But it was cheaper in the long run.

"Kiri dear?" The old woman called, "It's snowing."

She was right, fat snowflakes where dancing from the sky. It was early for a snow that would stick, but it meant it was cold and Kirishima had to walk home. They were breath taking in their slow descent.

"Shit" Kirishima whispered beneath his breath, "My stuffs still wet."

"The roads won't be slick, it's been too warm." Bakugo supplied, finally moving over his own clothes.

"I walk here." Kirishima whined, looking outside and then back at his clothes. He'd already handed his winter coat over to Kaminari the other day when the temperature had taken an odd turn but it hadn't snowed then. He'd be sure to slip him his gloves the next time he had a chance.

"This was so pointless, the snow will just get everything wet and I'll have to wash it all again." Kirishima bumped his head against the dryer wall in frustration.

"I'll drive you home shithead, you said it's only a few minutes from here. No reason to cry over dirty duck socks"

Kirishima's cheeks heated at the offer. Embarrassment over his apartment and a fluttering in his stomach, waring in his heart.

"You don't have to."

"Well unless you want to catch a cold for some ungodly reason, I'm going to."

"Okay." Kirishima relented, unsure of really what else he could do.

The blond for the first time since they'd met, cracked a smile. It wasn't like the open mouth cackling from their laughter. This was a stretching sinful smile that crinkled his eyes and pulled at his lips. It wasn't sticky and sweet like Kirishima's own, but seeing it felt like getting away with stealing a cookie from the cookie jar while your mom was busy. Something you weren't supposed to have but when you did it felt like fire in your veins, you smiled until your cheeks hurt.

And so that's what Kirishima did.

Their playful banter returned. They'd slid up on the washing machines closet to the dryers, their shoulders nearly touching. Bakugo was still unnecessarily gruff, but Kirishima took it in stride, shoving back with just as much force. When Kirishima's dryer let out a piercing buzz he dumped everything onto the top of the washer he previously sat on. Clumsy hands making sloppy folds.

"You suck at that." Bakugo remarked.

His own hands making quick work of his freshly dried clothes.

"Hey! I do just fine!" Kirishima barked back swatting at Bakugo's arm.

"Sure you are shit head." Bakugo was laughing again.

Head thrown back and muscles relaxed. Mean but oh so sweet in Kirishima's soul. Maybe this is what his momma meant.

He didn't have much time to think about it. Bakugo had already finished his tasks and was neatly nestling everything back into his laundry basket, his bag thrown on top. Kirishima was quick to follow.

"Just put your basket in the back." Bakugo was headed towards the door.

"Bye Granny, thanks for everything!" Kirishima hummed before scampering after.

It wasn't until he was buckled into the passenger seat of Bakugo's expensive car that the embarrassment came back. He had half a mind to just run home in the snow. But running away wasn't manly.

"Alright then, what complex is it?"

Kirishima mumbled under his breath, the embarrassment catching up.

"I can't hear you Kirishima, try again." Bakugo snapped, a fist slamming into the red heads arm a little too hard.

"It's just past that gas station and then a left." Kirishima said louder this time, his cheeks flushed.

"It's nothing to get so worked up about." Bakugo snapped, "It's just an apartment."

Kirishima felt the words die in his mouth and the sticky sweet feeling of being so close to Bakugo turn sour in his mouth. It was clear Bakugo didn't know how to ease the tension and the car fell silent save for the low echo of his radio.

"I didn't mean to upset you or whatever." Bakugo grumbled after a while his fingers tight against the steering wheel and his jaw clenched. His car jerked as he pulled between two yellow lines, "I'm not a very personable person Kirishima, but I uh, didn't mean it."

The way he danced around an apology Kirishima wasn't expecting would be charming if he wasn't so caught up in his own head.

"Nah man, you didn't do anything, just isn't the greatest of places, guess I'm embarrassed. Thanks for the ride, I really appreciate it."

"Anytime shithead." Bakugo grumbled, "Do you, uh, do you work that same shift this week?"

"No, just the night shift this week."

"Do you," Bakugo's relaxed face hardened and he shook his head stiffly, "Never mind. Get out, I'll see you later."

The words were final and heavy. Kirishima's mind buzzed with what he could've wanted but relented and exited the vehicle.

"See ya."

/\/\/\

The next week, they didn't meet up. Kirishima was working too hard on all the wrong shifts and by the time sunday rolled around he couldn't drag himself down to the laundromat and the sticky sweet blond. But it didn't stop the blond from needing clean clothes. He sat on top his running washer for a moment. His eyes drawn to the door, waiting for the redhead.

"If he isn't already here. Then he's not coming, probably passed out from working too much." Chiyo hummed from her wicker chair.

"What's his deal anyway?" Bakugo grumbled, "He could easily land a job that pays better than that corner store. Even without a degree."

"Eijirou is," Chiyo sighed, "He's scared to chase his dreams. Afraid of ending up like the blond man he gives all his spare change and winter clothes to. And above else, he's scared of hurting Fat's opinion of him."

"That's stupid."

Chiyo laughed, it was a soft sound that she muffled with her wrinkled hand.

"I'll be back." He grumbled, jumping off the washer with a thud and snatching a few lollipops, shoving them deep into his coat pockets.

He stalked out into the brisk night, a frown on his face, and his nose red from the wind. Already his bones ached from deciding to walk in the cold.

"Fuck." He swore, "I don't know his fucking room number. /Damn it/."

Shifting his weight awkwardly he did the only thing he could think of. He tossed one of the sweets in his pocket at the only room with its lights on.

"Shithead, is that your window?" He yelled already regretting even acknowledging the old hag at the laundromat.

But the regret that had begun to pull at his pride vanished when a sleepy head of red poked out the window.

"Bakugo?" Kirishima called down his voice thick with sleep and curiosity.

"I'm coming up. Open your door."

Bakugo climbed to the second story and waited in the hallway for a door to open. When it finally did he shoved past a weekly protesting Kirishima easily.

"Where is your laundry." It was brash and lacked the air of a question.

"What?" Kirishima laughed curiously, pulling his red hair up into a pile on his head.

"The old hag said you're over doing it, but that doesn't excuse dirty fucking clothes so hand it over, I'll wash them for you." Bakugo was gathering dirty socks in his arms.

"Wait wait wait, what's going on."

"Its sunday, you always wash your clothes at this time."

"But why are you here."

"You're an idiot."

Kirishima's sleep riddled mind supplied only childish laughter. He clutched his stomach and folded over, his shoulders shaking.

"Oh my god Baku." He wheezed, "You're so weird."

"Hey you asshole I'm trying to be nice." Bakugo was withdrawing into himself, embarrassed.vIt was a cold feeling and he never knew how to handle it. It set an ache in his bones and a strain on his lungs.

"Thank you." Kirishima said suddenly, "Thank you for checking in on me. I didn't realize I'd fallen asleep. Let's go together, okay?"

"Whatever." It was gruff but the blond set to work collecting clothes and throwing them in the offered basket.

"You're bad for my health dude."

"Asshole, what the hell does that mean."

It meant that Katsuki had startled a dying flame in his soul. Just when he felt the reins of freedom becoming too heavy, Bakugo had made him want to feel their tug again. He was remembering why he came to the city of his dreams in the first place.

Chiyo only smiled when the two came stumbling back into her humble laundromat. Katsuki's cheeks were flushed, but he'd swear on his grave it was because of the cold outside.

"I've got an audition for tomorrow." Kirishima said after their conversation had begun to slow.

It had been eating at him all week, the only thing keeping him sane was his endless shifts at the corner store.

"How do you think it'll go dear?" Chiyo chimed, her old eyes alight with curiosity, and Bakugo had stopped to stare expectantly.

"Well you know, trying to keep my expectations low so I'm not too disappointed when they tell me no." Kirishima shrugged his shoulders dejectedly.

"Shut up idiot, you're here in this awful city aren't you, means you at least got a chance."

Bakugo was like a cinnamon disk Kirishima decided. Wrapped up in a loud wrapper and the sugar hidden beneath so much spice. But it was there, sticky and melting out under the heat of the sun. He laughed to himself, at the thought of being Bakugo's sun. Melting away the spice leaving only syrupy red.

"What are you laughing about idiot." Bakugo dealt with his embarrassment by lashing out, his fist colliding a little too hard with Kirishima's shoulder.

"Nothing, nothing." Kirishima laughed melodically, "But I'll be sure to keep you both posted on how it goes."

\/\/\/

Maybe he slept through his alarm and missed the train. Maybe he skipped work and cried on his couch. Maybe he showed up at the record shop still in his pajamas looking for a familiar face. Kaminari bopped behind the counter happily to the music playing overhead. His golden eyes wide and alight with life, when they settled on Kirishima they offered warmth and understanding.

"What's up Kiri, you're looking pretty rough today, feeling okay?" Kaminari hummed, tapping the glass counter that separated them.

"When's your break?" Kirishima croaked, his heart aching at the familiarity and the strangeness of it all.

"Now if you need me."

"I can't ask you to do that."

"Come on Kyoka doesn't mind." Kaminari ducked under the fake counter piece rather than lifting it like anyone else would. Kirishima followed the blond numbly his mind too caught up on what ifs.

What if he hadn't worked so hard last week, would he have woken up in time?

What if he had a car, would it have gotten there in time instead of waiting for a useless train?

What if he stayed home?

"So what's up man?" Kaminari sat too close, their shoulders brushing, but he had always been a touchy, sentimental man and Kirishima found himself leaning into it. His weeks of confusing feelings suddenly crashing on him like a wave smashing a child's castle.

"I messed up." Kirishima's voice cracked, "I slept past my alarm and missed an audition for a union film."

His eyes were red from tears he didn't want to shead. Kaminari winced a sharp breath pushing through his clenched teeth.

"I won't lie to you, we both know what good that does for anyone, that was a pretty big mess up, but it's okay. Mistakes are part of living, and there will eventually be another chance. You just have to want it." Kaminari sighed, looking up at the heavy clouds rolling by.

"I did want it." Kirishima whispered, "This is all I've ever wanted."

"Good. Then don't forget how much this sucks. Dust yourself off and do it again. Do it because you want it, do it for you, not anyone else." Kaminari said too lightly.

But he was always like that. Wisdom hidden behind a squeaky voice and child like eyes. He'd always been awestruck by the world and sometimes it was hard to believe he thought so far past the surface.

"But what do I know." Kaminari laughed loudly, when Kaminari was running from words that were too hard, he laughed and deflected but he never let the world silence him like it did Kirishima at times.

"I skipped work today, I didn't even call. What if Fat fires me?" Kirishima had slumped over, head in his hands.

"We both know he won't."

"I had lunch shift today."

"And?"

"I couldn't face Bakugo after I messed up so bad."

"Who?" Kaminari's voice had taken a playful edge, his shoulder bumping the downcast man.

"Some stupidly pretty asshole who is using my laundromat." The words tumbled out of his mouth before he really thought them through. Embarrassment burned hot in Kirishima's mind. His cheeks tinting pink and regret licking at his stomach like the summer sun.

"Kiri! You didn't tell me there was a hottie at Chiyo's? I thought we were friends?" Kaminari whined but his face reflected nothing but cruel enjoyment of his friend's slip up.

"Shut up Kami, I don't want to talk about it." Kirishima was pouting now.

"Sure sure, I gotta get back anyway, but a token of advice? Take life by the throat and never let go. It's yours, do what makes you happy. Damn everyone else. And if that's a pretty asshole with a basket of dirty clothes, then so be it." Kaminari winked, dipping back inside.

\/\/\/

Umm it never occured to me that there would be a line limit on here but there is sooo this was part one I guess, there really isn't a whole lot left but if I go all the way to the limit it cuts off at a weird place so I like this cut off better!! The second part will be up either later today or tomorrow!!

#bnha fandom #bnha fanfiction #bnha #my hero academia #mha #mha angst #happy ending #kirishima eijirou #bakugou katsuki #kiribaku #bakushima #kaminari denki #jirou kyoka #mha au #bnha au

[monsteravariegata]

How did you start your compost and how do you grow things from it 0:

-this is just a little crash course and not a comprehensive guide-

 okay i am most definitely not an expert on this and i encourage you to research the topic on your own if you’re interested in starting one, but personally i started my compost in a large plastic container that i keep on my balcony all year round. it doesnt have to be anything fancy, an old storage box is perfect for this and its what i use (mine had a broken lid anyway). usually its recommended to drill some holes into the sides for additional airflow, but for me it works fine without them since i keep the lid on losely. if you want a larger compost (for a larger household) i’d definitely recommend drilling some holes though. for the contents of your compost, you want to keep an even balance between green matter and brown matter:

green matter is stuff thats either rich in nitrogen or protein, like kitchen scraps, lawn clippings, green leaves, etc.. you want to avoid certain food scraps though, as they either contain large amounts of toxins (pesticides, etc.), take a looong time to decompose or simply mess with the balance of your compost. some examples for things you dont want in your compost are oils, bones, meat, dairy products and pet feces. 

brown matter are things like dead leaves, straw, egg cartons and wood shavings. these materials are rich in carbon and deter any bad smells that might come from your decomposing green matter. 

there are certain things you should only add in moderation, because they could potentially harm the helpful microorganisms that break down your compost. these include egg shells, newspaper, cooked leftovers and non-organic fruit peels.ideally you want a ratio of 1:1 green and brown matter in your compost, but if you find it difficult to maintain it, don’t worry: your compost will eventually break down anyway, it might just take longer if the balance is a little off. 

its also recommended to add a little soil once in a while to add helpful microorganisms to your compost. also, don’t let it dry out completely. mix it every once in a while and when your box is full don’t add any more things to it. just let it chill out and check on it sometime to see if it needs more moisture or if its done. 

tldr: put dead leaves, your food scraps (1:1 ratio) and a little bit of soil in a plastic container with a lid. dont let it dry out and give it a mix every once in a while. have patience. 

now to the part you’re probably more interested in: some time ago i had some potatoes that had just started to sprout in my warm kitchen. i generously cut off the eyes (the places where the sprouts started to come out) and, without thinking, threw them on my compost. i DID NOT expect them to actually grow since my compost is far from done and i heard that growing potatoes can be a bit of a pain. for some reason however, mine did not mind the fact that the nights were still freezing, they did not get any direct sunlight (the lid on my compost is opaque) and that they were in a very cramped space together with a bunch of rotting food scraps. 

i kind of thought they would just die down again, so i didn’t bother to pull them out and just continued adding to my compost. as you might expect, they did not die down…..and now i am the mother of 13 potato plants that i have no space for. 

gardening is fun. 

#gardening #plants #growing food #compost #please correct me if i'm wrong!!!

[arcane-shadow]

Moments in Between (Insert Title of a Summer Song Here)

Ao3 link

My @danganevents submission for @a-sirens-melody! Hope you enjoy

Heat haze rose from the concrete path they walked. Above, the blazing summer sun continued to suffocate the island.

Underneath a specialty order parasol, sweating like a pig and suffering from the beginnings of what she was definitely sure was heat stroke, Touko couldn’t believe what she would do for her girlfriend. This heat was worse than anything she’d ever had to experience before, including the stupid killing game!

Said girlfriend strode several paces ahead, a spring in her sandled step. Touko could see Komaru’s dazzling smile on her face whenever she turned back around to gently urge her to keep going. It was so annoying.

And hot.

Sighing at another, significantly less gentle urging from komaru, she forged ahead. Annoying and hot and her girlfriend. The only person in the world, apart from Byakuya-sama of course, who was allowed to be so- so forceful! with her.

They reached a stone tunnel that was only a short-lived escape from the sun before they emerged upon a rotting ruin of what was once probably a house.

Turning the corner and catching sight of the blinding turquoise of the ocean had Touko almost faint from relief. Or maybe it was just the heat stroke. Either way she fell to her knees as komaru whooped in excitement. Attempting to recover she stayed collapsed in the shade of the caved in beach house that showed them they’d reached chandler beach.

“Oh Touko-chan, isn’t it beautiful!”

As Komaru turned around, touko was amazed once again by the picture her first and best friend made. The silhouette of her full figure against the crimson red sky, the way her shirt clung to all her curves, the lively spark in her green eyes and bright smile. She had to admit even that stupid stuck up piece of her hair was endearing.

If any more blood rushed to her face Touko was afraid she’d pass out. Which, as well as being horrifically embarrassing and pathetic, would have Syo coming out. And she’d already had her date with komaru, she didn’t get Touko’s too.

“Touko-chan are you alright!? You don’t look too good, your face is so red..did you really get sun stroke?” Komaru’s brilliant grin turned immediately to a worried frown at Touko’s prone and flustered form. She reached out a hand to cup Touko’s cheek.

The contact seemed to electrify her, like a bolt from her trusty taser straight to her frontal lobe. Except warmer, and softer, and infinitely more lovely. She flung herself backward and screeched “I’M FINE!” straight in Komaru’s face.

“Uhhhh’re you sure? You’re sort of all splayed out on the ground, Touko-chan.”

She looked both concerned and bewildered. Flabbergasted even, a word touko loathed for its lack of aesthetics and romantic flourish but was perfectly apt in this scenario.

“O-of course i’m sure, do you think im such a p-pathetic weak willed woman to just collapse of heat stroke after only a f-few kilometres in above 30 d-degree heat! Huh, Omaru!? And what a brazen u-unsolicited touch... you h-hussy!”

“Touko-chan, we’ve been going out for 4 years! Touching your face doesn't make me a hussy.” Komaru leaned over her, hands on her hips and was giving her an unimpressed look before continuing on in the same blustery tone.

“And i would be worried about anyone, even a huge muscley guy like Nidai-san, if they just collapsed after walking so long in this heat! But i guess if you’re really fine, you'll be able to get up by yourself then.”

She hmph-ed and went to turn around.

“W-wait!”

Grabbing onto the bag of beach supplies komaru was still carrying, Touko stopped her in her tracks.

“I…” she had to take a minute to swallow down her rising embarrassment at her outburst before continuing. “I did, maybe...collapse from the walk over...”

Komaru stayed silent as touko continued to sweat, literally and figuratively. Feeling ready to explode she spilled the rest in a rush.

“I’m sorry I c-called you a hussy... a-and yelled at you... could you help me up...:”

Touko didnt look up, perfectly fine to watch the ants sizzle on the hot concrete rather than look up at her girlfriend. Her face burned.

Her grip on the canvas of the bag was removed by strong calloused fingers. In one smooth movement she was pulled to her feet.

“touko-chan...you dont need to be so hard on yourself. Im pretty used to you being rude” A warm chuckle accompanied the words, fond and exasperated. “I was just worried, you know?”

Touko couldnt hide any longer, even as she desperately wanted to. At komarus words she had felt the beginnings of a gross sappy expression on her face. Komaru was smiling at her gently, patient as she waited for a response.

“...yeah, I know. I just-you’re! always flustering me..”

It was komarus turn to flush at her confession. A pretty pink spreading across her cheeks like the sky at dusk. Her mouth parted in a soft little O of surprise. Taking the initiative, half apology mostly greed, she pressed those pretty soft lips against her own.

A sticky, salty kiss in the midday sun but the minutes they spent pressed together was worth it.

When they broke apart and komaru laughed, light and breezy against her cheek, Touko couldnt even pretend to scowl.

“What a brazen unsolicited touch, touko-chan...hmm, does this make you a hussy too?” komaru practically purred, a cheeky grin on her face even as she looked self conscious at her own daring.

Touko’s heart sung, her mouth suddenly dry. She managed to squeak out, “O-oh, be quiet!” before kissing her deeply once again.

#danganronpa #my writing #toukomaru #touko fukawa #komaru naegi #drae

[whattimeisitintokyo]

Somos Familia: Chapter 34 (Part 2)

Well this chapter ended up being way too long. I had planned more for this chapter, but that ended up being long enough to be its own chapter and I’m tired of feeling that I have to finish the whole thing in order to post it. So here’s the last bit of the chapter. You can find the whole chapter on ff.net, and I’ll try to have it up on AO3 with a illustration soon. Sorry again for the long wait.

Also tomorrow is my birthday. I guess you could say that finishing this chapter on my own terms was my gift to myself. :)

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

Chapter 34: No Me Dejas (Part 2)

“Three days have passed since Dia de Muertos, and the country still mourns the abrupt and tragic loss of Ernesto de la Cruz, widely considered as one of the greatest musicians in the modern history of Mexico. Señor de la Cruz had just finished performing a concert that evening when sources say that a giant prop bell had accidentally broken off from the stage rigging above the singer, crushing and killing the singer instantly.

Since then thousands of grieving mourners have flocked to the gates of de la Cruz’s magnificent mansion in Colonia del Valle, holding candle light vigils and singing prayers while also leaving tokens and flowers outside. The mansion has also served as the home to his goddaughter and rising starlet, Coco Rivera. Whilst being known as a favorite topic of gossip this pass year in newspapers and magazines, Señora Rivera has surprisingly been keeping a low profile and out of the public eye since that fateful night. It can only be assumed that she is taking this time to mourn as well for the loss of such an important family member.

In related news her father Héctor Rivera, de la Cruz’s longtime business partner and songwriter, has been in hospital since that night after being taken from the scene by paramedics. There is no word on his condition, but his lawyer has assured that Señor Rivera was not injured in the stage accident but is instead seeking treatment for an undisclosed illness. We here at Excélsior wish him a speedy recovery and our thoughts and prayers are with him and his family.

Petitions are already being made to have Senor de la Cruz’s body to be lain to rest in his hometown of Santa Cecilia in Oaxaca, despite heavy requests to have him entombed in la Panteón Civil de Dolores alongside other famous people in Rotonda de las Personas Ilustres.

At the time of his death Señor de la Cruz was in the middle of several movie projects that will sadly forever remain unfinished, including a biopic about the Mexican Revolution, and was in talks of a deal to lend his voice for an American animated movie with Dis-“

A low, quivering moan broke Imelda’s concentration on the newspaper and turned it towards her husband currently occupying the hospital bed in front on her. With a sigh she folded it and placed it to her side, reaching out and grasping one of his twitching hands with hers. She winced at the tremors she still felt rattling slightly through his fingers, as well as the awkward way she was forced to hold his hand.

What with his wrist being tightly braced and strapped to the guard rail of the bed.

His other hand was also strapped on the opposite side, and a large padded belt wrapped around his thin chest to keep him firmly in place on the bed. An oxygen mask was placed over his face and several IVs were pumping him full of fluids and medicine. And despite being in a deep state of sleep, his teeth were clenched tight and his brows knitted into an expression of intense distress. A keening whine escaped his throat that gave into a deep, hacking fit of coughs.

Imelda immediately pulled off the mask and brought a clean handkerchief to his mouth as Héctor coughed painfully, only the straps keeping his body from convulsing on the bed. Finally, with one good expulsion he was able to clear his airway for the time being, gasping as Imelda wiped the corners of his mouth and placing the mask back. As he settled back down, he gently started to tremble again, whining pitifully and tears leaking from his dark sunken eyes.

Imelda sighed as she brought a clean corner of the handkerchief to wipe the tears from his face before placing it down to run her fingers through his greasy, unwashed hair to offer some form of comfort. It only seemed to distress him further and with a broken dry sob he wrenched his head away from her touch, lost in his nightmares.

It was truly heartbreaking to see Héctor reduced to such a state, but she was grateful to see him getting at least some form of rest. Especially after the last few days.

“What is this?!” she had screamed at the doctor, watching on in horror as several orderlies fought to restrain her husband’s mad flailing. “This is not pneumonia! What is happening to him?!”

Before the doctor could answer Héctor let out a wail and swung a punch at an unfortunate orderly standing too close by and knocking him off his feet. His arm now free he managed to rip off the IV out and began to frantically scratch at his chest, all the while yelling out profanities and indecipherable words as his eyes tracked at unseen figures and visions. As Imelda was hurried out of the door the last thing she heard was Héctor calling out for Ernesto.

And then for her.

“It’s the DT’s.” the doctor had explained after he was able to calm her down some with Coco and Julio by her side. “Delirium tremens. It’s alcohol withdrawal. If he’s been drinking for as long as you’ve said, Señor Magallanes, then it’s quite dangerous for him to just completely stop. It causes vivid hallucinations, irregular heart rates, sometimes seizures and, if severe enough, death.”

Ignoring the agonized weeping from her daughter and her own chest clenching in grief, Imelda whispered. “What can be done?”

The doctor wrung his hands and looked down in dismay. “Honestly, not much. There are medicines that can be given to treat this, but they would adversely affect his respiratory system. Given his pneumonia I can’t recommend giving it to him. Also, there’s the fact that he’s malnourished, and the shock… All I can do is give him some mild sedatives and monitor his heart and lungs. The rest is up to him, I’m afraid.”

They had returned to his room a few hours later to find him as he was now: strapped down and barely able to move, Dios knows that he was trying though. Despite the small amount of medicine that was given to calm him down, Héctor still saw visions that were terrifying to him and he strained to lash out at them. His screams had died down to pitiful whimpers and moans, and tears streamed down into his hair and ears. Over the next few days he was either in this state or a death-like sleep, and Imelda didn’t know which one was worse.

She felt absolutely foolish about it now, but seeing her husband going insane right in front of her had caused her to lash out at her daughter. Why didn’t she tell her that it was this bad? That he was starving and drinking himself to death, that his cold was actually much worse than it was, and that he was so miserable and broken-hearted that he screamed for her in his nightmares?

Instead of a cowed child being rightfully chastised by her mother for keeping secrets from her, Coco had met her glare dead on and even more. Imelda flinched back in shock at the righteous fury that showed on her daughter’s face, and what she had said next had finally knocked her off the high pedestal that she had set herself up on:

“What do you care, Mamá?”

And Imelda had to admit, she was right. Nothing she had done the past few months had shown that she cared about the man that she had kicked out of her life. She ignored every call, sent back every letter and telegram, even dodged each mention of him when Coco would talk to her on the phone. When she had bid a warm goodbye to Julio and Victoria she told them to give her love and warm wishes to Coco when they arrived. But not to Héctor. She just didn’t care.

But that was wrong. She did care. She cared about him and loved him so much that it hurt. And seeing her husband now, so lost in his sickness and misery, Imelda couldn’t bear the guilt that was crushing her from the inside.

“idiota… This wasn’t supposed to happen.” Imelda whispered as she locked Héctor’s cold fingers around hers once more. “You weren’t supposed to do this. Héctor…”

But he continued to sleep fitfully, his breathing hitching and occasionally giving in to more cough fits, and she continued to stay by his side. It was all she could do, now that it was too late.

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

It was quiet now.

The walls had stopped melting into putrid puddles of gore and maggots, the bugs had stopped buzzing in his head and stinging his flesh, and the monsters had stopped attacking him.

The monsters were the most terrifying though. They held onto his arms and legs so tightly that he thought he would end up breaking his bones in his efforts to get away from them. They had looked human too, but humans didn’t have glowing white eyes and rotting flesh. They’re voices were low and distorted, filling him with dread despite what the words they said that were supposed to sound soothing.

Señor Rivera, calm down. You’re safe!

We have to give him something!

We can’t risk his lungs giving out! Just strap him down!

Dios, turn him over! There’s too much fluid, suck his lungs out!

It took forever for them to finally let him be, after many terrifying episodes of not being able to breathe and more fits of screaming in terror of the horrible visions in front of him, but he was finally able to break free and make a run for it. Well, run wasn’t the best word for how he was able to finally move. Floating wasn’t either. The world seemed to dissolve into a myriad of distracting colors and sounds, and he simply let his mind flow with it in a dream-like state.

And then suddenly he found himself finally there.

Back in front of the bell.

With a cry of triumph, he made his way over to it and braced himself against it in a sort of clumsy hug. “Don’t worry Ernesto! I’ll get you out! You’ll be alright!”

And so he had pushed. And pulled. Digging his feet into the earth and straining as hard as he could against the cold hard bell. He shouted encouraging words towards his friend, not letting the lack of a response deter him in any way. It seemed like he did it for hours, for days even, his throat hoarse as he cried out for help from someone, anyone! He’d even accept the monsters help if he could find them. In a last ditch effort he had even called out for his wife, pleading with her to help him even if she wanted nothing to do with him afterwards.

But she didn’t come. He could swear he heard her voice whispering to him, but he couldn’t make it out no matter how hard he tried to listen. With a broken heart he could only conclude that she was telling him to leave her alone. She had no use for such a lousy husband and a terrible father to her children. He couldn’t say he blamed her. He couldn’t even help his brother escape from his prison.

He was worthless.

And so, for the longest time, there was nobody except him and that bell. When he couldn’t push against it anymore, when his voice finally gave out and his spirit broke, he sat in front of it and softly cried. He murmured apologies to Ernesto, to Imelda, to his children, to anyone he had wronged in his existence. There was no use. There was nothing left for him. Except that bell.

“What are you doing?”

With a gasp Héctor looked up at the new presence before him. At first he feared it was one of those terrible monsters come back to take him away again, but it’s voice was not bone-chilling and grating. Rather it was sweet and clear, the clearest Héctor had heard in a while, but the figure itself was… light. A vaguely human shape ball of light that burned so bright yet oddly didn’t hurt to look at. If he squinted a little Héctor could guess that its head was slightly tilted in a sort of curious quirk. It was sort of cute, if a ball of light could be considered cute, and Héctor found himself slowly start to relax.

“I-…” he sniffled pitifully and turned watery eyes towards the bell. “I can’t move it… Ernesto’s under there and… I have to save him.”

“Really?” the light said and floated over the bell. Héctor saw a hand reach out and knock against the bell, and it rang out loudly enough for Héctor cringe back with a wince. He didn’t like that sound. Not at all. “I don’t know. Sounds empty to me.”

Héctor gaped at the bell, his heart sinking, and frantically shook his head. “N-no!... He’s under there! I saw it drop on him!”

The ball of light chuckled in tinkling sort of way, and Héctor glared at it. “Well, si, you did. I saw it too. But that was a while ago. He’s not under that bell anymore either. This bell,” it said and knocked on the bell again, the loud clanging causing Héctor to grip his head in pain. “… is hollow. Empty. And is just here to waste your time.”

Tearing his hands from his head, Héctor stared wide eyed at the ball of light. “Waste my time?... What do you mean?”

“I mean you need to wake up and face reality, tonto!”

Suddenly the ball of light zipped towards him and enveloped him in a soothing warm glow, almost as if it was hugging him, and Héctor found himself being lifted towards his feet. Once he was firmly standing up the light took him by the hand and started to lead him away from the bell. He resisted a little with a slight whine, his gaze fixed back on the bell, until a sharp tug jerked him away and pulled him forward. With a huff he glared at the light leading him away, gritting his teeth when he thought he could make out a sly smirk flitting across the vague features.

He continued to look back though, watching as the bell slowly faded from view into a white void. Then he noticed that the walls started melting again. His breath hitched a little in fear, terrified that the horrible visions from before were coming back to haunt him. The light gripped his hand tighter, but in a soothing manner, and Héctor managed to find comfort in the light for the first time since he met it. It was then he noticed that the walls weren’t exactly melting, but rather… falling into place.

Windows stacked next to each other, light fixtures dotted the ceiling in a straight line, and floor tiles tumbled into place just as his feet managed to touch them. It was then he noticed the pattern of the tiles, the color of them, and the shape of the windows and other fixtures. He had been here before. It had been a long time ago, but he had been here long enough to recognize the way the hallway was set up, and what doors led to what. It was engrained into his memory.

“I don’t like this place.” Héctor whispered.

“No, I don’t either,” the light said softly. “But it’s where you need to be right now.”

They continued on at a comfortable pace down the hallway, and slowly people started to materialize in Héctor’s vision. Men and women in sterile white clothing walking past them without even noticing them. Two of them were wheeling a bed down at such a speed that Héctor barely had time to react before they barreled right through them and raced down the opposite direction. The light giggled at that, and Héctor couldn’t help but give a shaky smile himself.

But suddenly a thought came to mind that chilled him to the bone, and he looked down at the light apprehensively. “Am… Am I a ghost?”

“Hmmm… No, I wouldn’t say that. But I wouldn’t worry about that. It’ll all be over soon.”

That was when the light finally led him into one of the rooms and let go of his hand. Looking up Héctor stopped dead in his tracks at what he saw: It was him. Lying in a bed, his hands strapped tightly onto the railings and his chest rising slowly with breath. And sitting beside him… was…

“No.”

The light paused on its way to bed to turn back and look at him. “No?”

“No I-I… I can’t.” Héctor whispered, his eyes never leaving his beautiful wife’s face. “Why is she there? She… She doesn’t love me. I can’t take it anymore… It h-hurts too much.”

“I’m pretty sure she loves you. Why else would she be sitting with you? Look at her. She looks so sad.”

Héctor shook his head miserably. “She’s just waiting for me to wake up… to tell me it’s finally over. That she’s moved on… I can’t face her… I’m too tired.” He dropped to his knees and stared at the floor, all the peace he was starting to feel again being crushed by despair. “Maybe it’s for the best… That I don’t wake up at all… Ernesto’s gone. Imelda hates me… I have nothing left.”

His head hung low and tears clouding his vision, he almost didn’t see the light step towards him until he felt its warm glow cup his face gently. With a sniffle he raised his eyes its face, or what he could guess was its face, and let it wipe the tears from his cheeks. Then he watched as it raised its hand slightly above his line of sight, and then…

*THUMP*

“OW!”

Héctor reared back onto his rump and flashed a hand up to his stinging forehead, rubbing it and staring at the figure before him in shock. “Did… Did you just flick my forehead?!”

“Si.”

“Why?!

“For being an idiot.”

With a snarl he managed to get back onto his knees. “I don’t need to take that from- GGGNAK!” His head was yanked forward as the light grabbed his nose, twisted, and pulled down hard. Then with its other hand it pulled his ear as hard as it could and started to shake his head back and forth. “GAH! What are you doing?!” he screamed nasally. “Stop!”

“What do you mean don’t wake up at all?!” The lighted shouted at him, continuing its assault as Héctor’s eyes watered with pain instead of sorrow. “Where is that coming from?! ‘Riveras never give up.’ Isn’t that what you’ve always said?”

Trying to pry the figure’s hands from his face, he glared up at it. “I’m not a real Rivera… I just married one- ARGH!”

“You’ve been a Rivera a whole lot longer than you haven’t been, old man!” the light yelled back. “And you haven’t lost everything! What about your children? Coco, and your granddaughter! What about Miguel. Are you really going to leave a little boy to grow up without his father? And who’s going to greet Matty when he comes back from the war?!”

“As for your wife, she right there waiting for you to wake up! She can’t run and hide in Santa Cecilia anymore! If you have something to say to her, then you make her listen to you! Think about it, you’re sick in a hospital bed. At the very least you have pity on your side, right? But don’t give up on her so easily, cabrón!”

“All right, all right! Ow! Just let go of me already!”

With one last shove the light let go of Héctor’s head and he cradled his face in his hands, getting his breathing back under control and trying to rub away the burns and stings. He flinched as the warm hand landed back on his shoulder, but when no further violence came his way he dared to look back up.

“I know this has been hard on you.” The light said gently. “And I know that you’re scared. But even if things don’t work out for you and your wife, you shouldn’t feel the need to give up. You still have a lot to live for.”

Héctor stared at it for a few long moments, before turning back towards the bed. Towards Imelda. It was right, she did look sad. And tired. If he woke up now, maybe he could talk to her. Maybe she’d talk to him. Despite his brain trying to convince him over and over that he was done, it was his time, and there was no need to linger on, his heart wouldn’t let him. It was leading him back to her. To his family.

Just like it always had.

Damn poet.

With a heavy sigh me slowly stood up and made it to his feet, his gaze now fixed on his unconscious form on the bed. With a new determination he made his way over and paused at the edge. Do I just… lay on myself? With a short snort of laughter he did just that, and was surprised to see his leg phase through himself as he climbed onto the bed. Rolling over he laid down onto his back, stared up at the ceiling, and waited.

…..

And waited…

…..

“Uh, nothing’s happening?”

The light shrugged. “You have been sleeping for a long time, and you’re sick. It might take a while for you to actually wake up.”

Before Héctor could reply to that, he started to feel changes slowly flowing into his body. Ah, this must be it. He started to feel heavier, more solid. That itself was a comforting feeling. He settled back down onto the bed and let the sensations build up through his limbs. He stayed still like that for a few minutes, with his eyes closed, before a tinkling little laugh next to him caused him to open them.

“This is taking forever!” The light giggled. It was such a sweet sound. So pure. Where had he heard it before? “Though not surprising. Even when you were healthy it took forever to wake you up, even when I jumped on your chest in the morning and tried to pry your eyes open.”

Héctor brows furrowed in confusion. He tried to lift his head off the pillow to look at the light properly… but found that he couldn’t. Slowly the solid feeling of his body turned into a heavy burden. He was so heavy! Too heavy! I can’t move!

“W-what?... What’s hap-”

The heaviness started to form inside his chest. His breathing turned into frantic gasps as he struggled to get air into his lungs. And now his body started to hurt! His arms and legs cramped and his head started to pound. Behind his gasping he heard his heart beating loudly in his ears. This is bad! This is bad! What’s happening to me?!

Then suddenly the light was leaning over his face, and Héctor stared at it with fright. Was this it’s plan all along? To trap him in this pain filled husk and laugh at him for his foolishness? He never should have trusted it! It started to lower itself to him, and with a small whimper he clenched his eyes shut and braced himself against... What? Oblivion? Mutilation? The destruction of his very soul? Whatever it was it couldn’t be good! It couldn’t-

“And don’t worry about Tio Nesto. He’ll be all right. I won’t let him be alone.”

….

Tio Nesto?

Héctor’s eyes snapped open and he saw the light was hovering over his face. He saw that smile again grace it’s face before it leaned over and… gave him a small kiss on the forehead. It was quick and chaste, but it was so warm and sweet, and it slightly soothed the aches that were afflicting his body. It drew back again and stared at him with such love in it’s eyes, and Héctor realized with a start of the fact that he could see it’s eyes.

They were his eyes!

Her eyes.

“You feel better Papá.”

With a choked out sob, reached out towards the light- my daughter!- but found that he couldn’t. He glanced down at his hands and saw that they were strapped to the railings of his bed, and no matter how hard he shook or strained against them he could not tear them free. Sitting up was also not an option, as the thick belt across his chest prevented him from lifting even an inch.

He turned his attention back towards his little girl, but she was gone. She had left him. Again.

“Leti!” Héctor cried out, tears streaming down his face as he tried to strain against the bindings once more. “Leti, don’t go! Leti come back, please come back! Don’t leave me, mija. Please don’t leave me again! Please, please, please…”

“Calm down Héctor.” A tired voice broke through his weak sobbing, and he glanced up through watery tears as his wife ran a hand through his hair in a calming motion. She began to speak to him, numbly, as if she had been repeating the same things over and over. “It’s not real. You’re alright. None of this is really happening. She’s not here. It’s okay, Héctor.”

Héctor concentrated on his wife’s face, forcing himself to calm his seizing chest and his pounding heart. He listened to her soothing words and slowly the hysteria faded away, leaving him exhausted and light-headed. And as the minutes passed and he became more and more aware of his immediate surroundings, the visions from before slowly faded as well. What had he been dreaming about? There was a light, he remembered. And a voice. It was so familiar. But even those vague recollections of his dream faded into nothingness as well, as for the first time in over three days Héctor was finally awake and aware.

“Imelda?” Héctor whispered. “What happened?”

“…Héctor?”

#somos familia #coco #coco pixar #pixar coco #coco fanfiction #Hector Rivera #i love flicking my dad on the forehead #So Leti does too

[chaotic-dumbass-witch]

how do you keep the plants alive. please from one plant loving nonbinary to another how do ypu keep the plants alive i need them for Gender purposes but they just keep dying

uhhhhh this is a real late response but uh

look up care instructions for specific plant, if you dont know what it is get a plant ID app

most plants are on a basis of like, put finger in dirt. if its dry hes thirsty. if its moist leave him alone

give them sunlight (i have grow lights in the corner of my room, and for reference i live in canada)

for succulents its a little weirder, i killed A Lot of succulents when i was first getting into plants. if the leaves are getting crinkly, hes thirsty. if the leaves are weird and mushy that probably root rot, find some leaves that are still normal, twist them off gently, put it on some dirt (ideally a humidity thing, i have a few mini greenhouses, you just need a see through container, dirt, a spray bottle, and some light). slap the leaf into the dirt, spray the entire dirt with water, close it, put it in some light. leave it alone for a week, spray it again when the dirt gets dry, and just keep doing that for a few months till youve got some good root development and/or some stuff beginning to grow

ive found spider plants to be easier to grow - the leaves become more see through when its thirsty. strings of hearts are also easy for me because of the leaf taco test (try to pinch ends of the leaf together in taco shape, if its flimsy hes thirsty, if its nice and firm leave him alone)

fittonias are also pretty easy. they just kinda faint when theyre thirsty so youll always know and eventually you kinda get the hang of it. strongly recommend and also theyre pretty, aka nerve plant

calatheas are whores, dont start with them. theyre pretty but theyll bite you if they dont get the perfect amount of everything. i have several and theyre very dramatic

pothos are also on a basis of stick your finger in the dirt and water him if its dry

pileas are fun, the leaves start drooping when theyre thirsty

your best bet is to start out with some plants that are more tailored to your abilities - can you tell if a plant needs water, how your mental and physical health affect how much you can take care of a plant, etc. fittonias are good because youll never be stuck wondering and its really really visual of like, oh this guy wants water because the leaves are extremely drooping. love those guys. if he drops dont worry hes not dead hes just a lil dramatic

also you can go outside and grab some moss out the dirt and then bring it home and put him on some dirt and pray him. terrarium. very fun very recommend

ive never been able to keep herbs alive because they just hate me for some reason. im trying my hand at it again after refusing to go near it for 3 years. ill usually do a thing of like, huh, i killed this specific plant. ill not buy it again. and then some years later i go get one and i figure it out a lot easier that time around

also dont be afraid to steal plants from outside. see a leaf? take him home. if youre cold hes cold put him in your house. just like dont steal peoples plants and dont go cutting peoples plants. taking fallen leaves from big box stores is also super fun and you can get a lot of stuff like that since they dont really care about the leaves theyll just trash them. ill usually ask if i can take the leaves but yea. if i see a fallen leaf its mine

#theres. a lot of plant talk here #:)