#I ca't

[pigeonstab]

You can always do college ramblings dude don't be sorry!! I totally get that, I left high school a year early cause I could not do it anymore, if they sent me to college I would have popped like a balloon lol But if the time isn't right that's understandable I think, you can always go back later if you feel up to it there's no time limit ^^ But yeah, that's monday thoughts!! Now it's time for chilling and having fun :D

ALSO!!! I forgot to tell you I had a dream the other day that there were a bunch of slugs on my bedroom walls but they were fast. Like I caught one to put it outside but I remember thinking "I'll never catch these other guys they're going way too fast" and it took me ages after I woke up to remember slugs don't do that lol

Anyway now I'm going to bed for real Good night!! I hope you have nice dreams too when you go <3

Thanks, it really helps hearing that, what I'm most upset about is just not seeing the good profs anymore if I quit lol, cause some of them are cool!! (Also the money. But I do not like spending anything at all ever so. When am I not upset about money?)

Also holy shit? Speedy slugs?? That's actually kind of scary. I would freak out, I've had many weird dreams, the ones I remember at least. Good night for real!! Hope the slugs don't bother you again!

[revenantghost]

These guys are being rereleased! The cheapest price I've seen so far that does global shipping is CDJapan, here's Vash and here's Wolfwood!

[i-like-to-look-at-your-back]

Do you feel like colouring a bit?

[mystery-star]

deeply saddend about the fact how so many historical texts, books and scriptures just are lost/destroyed.

Like... we know they existed but not what (exactly) they said.

Or the thigns we don't even know of....

[shoreline-system]

listen man i have to be real with you. the constant need + expectation to keep pushing yourself as a disabled person is utterly exhausting and i don't think this is sustainable actually

[narashikari]

Why don't you repost these healing photos to insta Junya 😭

[trafficpan-ic]

Having a full on Panic Attack about something that looks so little bit is so important for me.

[for-the-love-of-javert]

Ladies when you find a man who will clean the kitchen and providing he's as nice a man as this dude (the character, Simon Lennox and Philip Quast) then you've literally hit the jackpot.

Philip Quast & Janet McTeer in The Governor, S02E04 - 1996

[mothingness]

IMPORTANT where can I find second hand books online for relatively cheap. I don't live near any good book stores and it kills me

[rosysugarr]

anyone else experiencing symptoms of mental illness

[hopeforged]

do u ever just remember that pee.ta lost part of his leg after the first games and now wears a prosthetic and had to re-learn how to walk and everything and that was just not included in the movies at all

[adamshallperish]

i don't know what this show brings out in me. the moment "i can't fight this feeling" started playing on the jukebox i cackled like a witch.

[supercantaloupe]

someone died at my fucking university today??

[latenightcravingz]

"my girls" OMMMGGGG‼️‼️‼️‼️‼️

Light on - single mom/neighbor fic Simon Riley/female reader Prompt: Protective Simon. For the beautiful and talented @lethalchiralium

Simon’s phone is ringing. 

Price raises an eyebrow from the end of the table, pausing mid-sentence, confused. Simon’s phone never rings. It’s always on full volume, because he never gets phone calls, except for ones from the 141, and they’re all here. At this briefing.  

His fingers find the ringer, ready to silence what he’s sure is a nuisance call, some telemarketer or robot, when he reads your name across the screen. 

You’ve never called him before. Unease tightens across his chest, and without any explanation, he excuses himself from the room and the bewildered looks being cast his way. 

“Hey, you-“

“Simon?” You sound off. Like you’re trying to be calm, but there’s something lingering on the edge of your voice, something scared. His spine goes stiff. 

It’s enough to propel him into action, his fist thumping against the window of the brief room, jerking his head south. I’m leaving, the motion signifies. Emergency.

“What’s wrong?” 

“N-nothing. Just… there’s this guy that’s been like, half a block behind me since I got off the train.” He closes his eyes. The fucking train. He wants you to stop taking the train. He needs you to stop taking the train. 

“He followed you from the platform?” 

“Well, he could be walking this way too…” 

“Where are you?” His keys are already in his hand, and he’s running down the hallway, past bewildered administrative staff and everyone else, bursting through the back door and into the truck. His phone chimes with multiple text messages, Price, Johnny, Gaz. All wondering where the hell he ran off to. Only Johnny’s text scratches the surface: Is it your neighbor? He waits another second in silence, hoping you’re trying to get your bearings. “Sweetheart?” 

“I’m… I think we’re coming up on seventh and Warsail. ‘m not too sure. I’ve kind been walking in a roundabout way.” We’re coming up on seventh… we. 

The baby is with you. 

His foot slams the accelerator onto the floor, counting his breaths as he maneuvers each turn in the road. Do you have the stroller? Are you carrying her? Did this guy peg you as an easy target because he knows what Simon knows, that women are more likely to go along with instruction if their child is threatened? That you’d never leave Emmaline behind? That you’d do anything to protect her? 

He feels sick. 

“Are there other people around?” He’s calm on the phone, trying to visualize the street, the buildings, the alleys. Easy spots where cars could reach the highway in seconds, and then be gone. Cramped alleys that connect to others like tangled webs, able to swallow a human being easy, disappear them into the darkness. It makes his stomach turn over. His fingers tighten around the steering wheel so hard; it hurts.

“Yeah, it’s close to the end of the day, so-“ 

“Stay where others can see you. Are you sure you’re on seventh and Warsail?” 

“Yeah. We’re in that park. I-I… wanted to take Emma to see the ducks.” Your voice wavers. “Simon he’s still behind us.” He’s turning the corner now, a block from your cross streets, and instead of yielding for oncoming traffic like he should, he floors it through an intersection, abandoning the truck still on, half parked in an empty street spot.  “Stay where you are, sweetheart. Okay? I’m coming.” 

“You… wait, what? You’re what?” He doesn’t hang up, but keeps the phone against his ear, and takes off down the street in a sprint, fully subscribed to the worst-case scenarios that have been building in his mind, images of you and Emmaline bloody and bruised, or worse. He gets them confused for a moment, memories mixing with the present, two things swirling together until they become indistinguishable, noise and panic roaring too loudly in his head. 

It all comes screeching to a stop. 

He spots you in the park. You do have the stroller, and you’re by the little pond, headphones in, Emmaline in your arms, her little beanie pulled down over her ears. You’re glancing around, nervous, saying his name into the mic. He scans the rest of the faces, passing over anyone who doesn’t strike him as a creepy git, until he finds his target: a skinny, younger guy lurking on the edge of the fence line, watching you. He hangs up the phone and moves across the park involuntarily, rolling his shoulders, and he vaguely sees you from the corner of his eye, mouth dropped open in shock, faintly calling his name. 

“Hey, mate. C’mere.” He shouts, half the people in the vicinity startling in his direction. Everyone seems to move away, like a magnetic force, pulsing outwards as he overtakes the guy with an easy grab to his upper arm. “You like stalking women with babies?” He hisses in his ear, voice low with barely contained rage. The guy is younger than him, but rail thin, and coked out. Probably looking for money. Simon jerks him closer, and he actually yells for help, like he’s a victim. It’s enough to ground the situation, making Simon realize he has an audience, and he grits out a final warning before shoving him away. “I ever see you around my girls again… I’ll fuckin’ kill you. Piss off.” 

“What did he say?” You’re frantic, rubbing Emmaline’s back in a circular pattern, over and over like you’re trying to calm her, even though she’s perfectly content. It’s you who needs soothing, he realizes, and he takes your hand without questioning it, letting his instincts guide him in regard to you without overthinking it. 

“He was high, love. Looking for money.” He doesn’t want to scare you but… he doesn’t despise the idea of instilling some hypervigilance. Maybe this will convince you not to take the train. 

“Oh my god.” 

“Think I scared him off for good though.” He looks around, and then slips off his mask, wide thumb stroking a soft touch on Emma’s cheek before giving you a gentle squeeze. “It’s alright now.” You visibly relax, but don’t let go of his hand, tilting your face up to his, all bright and beautiful, still coming down from the adrenaline of your fear with a whisper on your lips, meant for only him to hear. 

“Our hero.”

[laisy]

I should be angry, but come on, we were not a better team today.... 

Eh.... 

I’m sad for Aaron, and everyone. 

[trafficpan-ic]

I dont understand the world