Any1 has the link to AO3 fanfiction, where some idiots played prank on Wednesday by pouring the paint on her, and then the Nevermore crew (Enid, Bianca, Yoko, Xavier and Eugene) started to carry the Epipen with them and had revenge on prankers?
I have it somewhere, but I simply can"t find it among the 400+ favourite fanfictions
And here you can see my humble collection of different stuff, starting from rare Coca-Cola bottles and ending with figure of Planet Express ship
Also I have a small collection of self-built models of Boeing 787 Dreamliner, Boeing 737 Max and never finished Boeing 747-800, but I won't show them to you unless you ask for it :p
Yes, such a weird thing for a translator to say, but it is what I sometimes think about.
It's not because I had weird or bad experience with talking to foreign people, no. It's because every time when I scroll Instagram Reels at night, I start to cry. Because there are Reels that just ask if you're okay or mention things that make my biggest wound open over and over again, bringing tears to my face. My mother language is not English, yet I speak it enough to know what exactly is written in these Reels.
I wish no one, not my Mom, not my Dad, not anyone from my family or coworkers or friends ever could find our that every time I lie in my bed, hugging a big pillow and my plush toy wolf, I cry, cry, cry, swiping my tears with Caesar (the plushie wolf), feeling so cold inside it burns. Having a lot of friends, having a big family, but unable to tell them what I feel, just because I'm scared no one would give a fuck, or because I don't want to bother them with my shit.
One of my coworkers striked straight into my heart when she said that I'm like a clam. A clam who is always closed in herself, never voicing out her worries, her anxieties, her fears or bad thoughts. And she's right. I rarely can share it with people because I'm used to keeping everything inside, building a happy, joyful and clown-ish facade. I don't want anyone to know that I suffer from tears, from being so lonely and broken. I want them to see me as a happy girl, joking around and caring about people without waiting the care in return. Because I'm not used to people giving an actual shit about my wellbeing.
And here you can see my humble collection of different stuff, starting from rare Coca-Cola bottles and ending with figure of Planet Express ship
Also I have a small collection of self-built models of Boeing 787 Dreamliner, Boeing 737 Max and never finished Boeing 747-800, but I won't show them to you unless you ask for it :p
The thing I love about walking with my dad is that he motivates me to ride or walk around Moscow on my own and just investigate for something interesting. He always tells stories and facts about the places we pass, no matter how much time passed since he been there last time.
Funny. Even though I've known him for almost two years now, it feels like I knew him for my whole life, like he always been with me. I was angry at him at first, yes, but now I feel so grateful to him for just being here for me. Talking to me, listening to me, walking with me. I feel less... alone. And all thanks to him.