#but its happening now so wtf was the point of all that

[writinganon1]

@cokoweee

Ya’ll ever have a dream so lifelike it feels aggressively real until one thing goes a little too wrong and then you start to realize that maybe you’re in a dream but it’s also too real to convince yourself it’s not real that you can’t wake yourself up? 

TW: panic attack, I say gun, uhhh blood ig? Bishop says a kinda weird thing but that's just him bein him

can I say blood? last time I did it marked me as mature...

-

Her heart thumped against her chest, lactic acid building in her legs as she ran. She tapped furiously at her phone, fingers slipping over the screen as she tried to deploy Sheldon. 

Donnie says “no no no” chimed a pixilated picture of Othello, his finger waving back and forth. 

“What the-” She slammed against a wall, her shoulder crunching against the brick. 

His stupid programming on the poor thing to keep Sheldon at his house. Maybe she could override it? 

No, not enough time. She was just going to have to run and hope for the best. 

Her shoulder screamed in protest as she climbed the ladder in the alley. Scrambling over the side of the building to catch her breath, she tapped at the screen again. 

There had to be something she could do to foil his programming. She wiped at her nose, the cold still not quite gone even after days of bed rest. Bullets flew over the edge of the building, seemingly locking on to her body heat. Throwing herself at the ledge at the last second to force the bullets to crash into the wall she coughed violently, phlegm coating her throat.

Stupid sickness. 

Stupid Othello leaving her with the stupid rabbit farmer.

She pushed herself off the ground, arms struggling under the weight of herself. It was as if every muscle in her body was on fire, each fiber screaming at her to stop. She gulped raising her head over the ledge. Agent Bishop was standing on the adjacent rooftop, his face curled into a sneer, eyes unblinking despite the sun in his eyes. 

He waved at her, fingers waggling in the air as he pulled a small gun from his pocket. Aiming it directly at her chest he grinned, his eyes flickering with something distinctly unhuman. 

She stumbled backward, her feet skidding over the concrete as he seemed to lock onto her. Loose rock dug into her knees as she clambered over the rooftop. 

Away.

All she needed to do was get away. 

She placed a hand over her stomach, feeling the raised bump of the scar, as she moved.

This was…

This was wrong? 

It didn’t happen this way. 

No. She didn’t need to get away, she needed to get out. 

The bullet ripped into her skin, tearing away at muscle, and shattering the bone in her rib.

She screamed, blood pouring from the gaping hole in her chest, as Bishop moved closer. He walked to her side, footsteps clanking against the concrete. 

Clawing at the ground she dragged her body along the roof, rocks digging under her nails. Bishop laughed, his foot trampling her hand, digging it into the ground. She gasped, breathing shallowly as she fought to get loose. 

He grabbed her hair, wrapping it between his fingers and tightening his grip as he pulled her from the floor. 

“Oh, this is wonderful.” He smiled, voice dripping with venom. “Such a pretty little thing I caught this evening. I’ve been dying to chat with you.” He pulled her hair up, forcing her to rise. “I wonder if she’ll do any tricks?” 

She spat in his face, her ears filled with an all-consuming ringing. 

Away. 

She needed to get away. 

It didn’t matter how. She needed to get away. 

He said something else, flaunting some sort of mechanism he had hidden in his shirt. She tried to focus on his words, but her breathing was too shallow, her limbs too shaky, the ringing too loud for her to hear a word. 

She clamped a hand over her chest, a sorry attempt to staunch the flow of blood from the gaping hole in her body. Cursing softly she watched as the red seeped into a slithering pink fleshy mass. 

She stifled a scream as the pink turned an orange maroon, her own blood fueling some sort of monster. 

“Shhhhhhh.” Bishop whispered against her ear, “It’ll be done soon. Just one quick slash and you’ll be out of my hair for good.” 

The mass jumped forward, faster than she could comprehend, her body spasming in pain as she scrambled back.

Was this the Krang she’d heard so much about after she’d left the jail? Weren’t they supposed to be mindless or something? 

It lunged forward again, tentacles lashing toward her face. Bishop shook her in front of him, like a toy for a dog. 

“Kendra?”  

She screamed as he tightened his grip on her, shaking her around like a bag of flour. The world around her turned hazy, her vision blurring in and out. 

She wasn’t going to go out without a fight. 

Throwing her head back she jammed her skull into his chin, breaking the grip he had on her hair. 

She clawed at the ground, a strange silky feeling coating her fingers. Pushing away the softness of what was sure to be Krang, she kicked at the mass as it wiggled unnaturally. 

“KENDRA!” A familiar voice shouted at her, a gentle three-fingered nubby touch against her arm. 

Her eyes flew open, arms flailing to the sides to swat at what was left of the Krang matter, as hands held her back. She gasped, her chest heaving as a sinking feeling hit her gut. Dread splashed over her head like a wave, drowning her, leaving nothing but fear.

Eyes widening she looked next to her for Tello, horrified as darkness encroached on her vision, leaving her staring through a pin hole. Nausea rolled through her stomach as she gasped for air, her chest shuddering to keep up with her breathing. 

It hurt. It hurt so bad. 

“Hey, hey, hey.” He whispered, hand placed against her back. “It’s ok you’re home. You’re with me.” 

She jerked backward. He was loud. So so loud. Even with the ringing in her ears, he was too loud. 

Breaths were punched from her lungs faster than she could finish taking them in. Tears streamed down her face as her eyes blew wide. Her chest tightened, lungs twisting as she shook. 

She’s dying. She has to be dying. There’s no other explanation. 

Dead in her room from a nightmare-induced heart attack,  

Her eyes flickered back and forth over the room, not focusing on anything, just wildly scanning for danger she knew wasn’t there. Willing her arm to move, she let out a chocked warble. 

The room seemed to melt around her. Things blurred together, a fuzzy abstract painting of almost-real-life. Sweat beaded on her forehead as she tightened her muscles. 

Her whole body shook as she tried to take steadying breaths. 

“Did you know softshell turtles only have half a plastron?” 

She was in the middle of dying. 

She most definitely did not need turtle facts right now. 

“Technically a full one, but it’s covered by skin, rendering it effectively useless for plastron purposes.” He shrugs. “Same deal as the shell.” 

She looked at him, confusion breaking through the panic. 

“Makes us really flexible though. Wanna see?” 

He got off the bed, walked to the middle of the room, and bent backward. He smiled upside down at her from the floor and smoothly brought himself back up. 

“Pretty neat huh?” He waggled his eyebrows. “Bet no other turtle you meet could do that.” 

Amusement rippled through her as she watched him demonstrate his stretches and various yoga poses.

“I’ve never met another turtle like you.” She breathed, some of the panic melting away. 

“Precisely! No one can do it like me!” He said, pointing his finger at her triumphantly before his face softened. “ We starting to feel a bit better?” 

She brought her thumb and pointer finger close together. A little 

He nodded. “Am I good to come back up or do you need some space?” 

She patted the bed next to her, inviting him closer. She waited until he was seated comfortably before slumping against his shoulder, exhausted. 

He shifted slightly, reaching for his phone with one hand, the other wrapped around her. He let them sit for a moment, reminding her to breathe every few seconds before Sheldon zipped into the room. 

He whispered something to Othello before zooming out of the room. She watched passively as it happened, her body still not quite connected to her soul. 

Sheldon returned moments later, a bag of ice, a bottle of water, a cookie, and tub of lavender lotion in his little propeller arms. 

Othello took them from him, patted his head, and shooed him away. Taking one of the ice cubes he flattened out her hand and placed it in her palm. 

She jerked slightly at the sensation of cold in her hand, surprised when he placed another in her palm. 

“Focus on the melting.” He said, voice low and gentle. 

The ice filled the lines of her hand and dripped over the sides and down her arm. She shivered as the water pooled in her hand. Othello grabbed the cookie from the pile he had created and broke off half to give to her. 

“Thanks?”

He watched her carefully. “What does it taste like?” 

“A cookie?” She said through a mouthful, her hands still full of TV static. 

“I need details.” He pressed. 

She paused, taking a moment to consider the flavors in her mouth. “Vanilla, chocolate chips.” She took another bite. “ Like I left it in the oven a minute or two too long and overcooked them just slightly.” 

She’d have to make another batch, this time keeping an eye on the time. 

He pressed an uncapped water bottle into her hand. “Drink.” 

She pressed the bottle to her lips, feeling the way the cold blossomed against her skin as she held it there. Quietly observing the way she could feel it go down her throat and into her stomach. 

“Are we feeling more alive?” 

She nodded, running her hand along her thigh to feel the fabric of her pajama pants as she pressed her head against his side. 

“Good.” He murmured, sleep creeping into his voice. “You had a panic attack I’m pretty sure.” 

“...Sorry it was for something stupid.” 

“I get worked up over stupid stuff too.” He mumbled, eyes half closed. 

“Your stuff isn’t stupid.” She countered. 

“Then neither is yours.” 

She stopped, lifting her head to look up at him.

He grabbed her hand, flexing the fingers for her. “You feel ok?” 

“I don’t know.” She answered honestly. 

He nodded and guided her to a lying position. “Tell me five of your favorite things.” 

She paused, looking around the room. “Hmmmmm. You.” 

“Thank you.” 

“Mhm. Uhhh, lavender. The color purple. Satin jackets. Baking. Messing around in the lab. Oh, I guess that’s more than five.” 

He tapped her shoulders rhythmically, “You can keep going if you need to.” 

She took in a deep breath. “I think I’m ok now.” 

“Positive?” 

Nodding she pulled the blankets over herself. What she really needed was rest. She was so exhausted from the whole ordeal that the idea of doing anything else felt impossible. 

He got off the bed again, searching beneath the bedframe for something before he pulled a large purple blanket from under the bed. She blinked in surprise as he placed it over her, a weight holding her down to the bed. 

“I should’ve mentioned it was weighted.” 

She pulled her hand out to give a quick thumbs up as he climbed back into bed. She shifted to hold out her arm for a hug. He smiled and pulled her close, wrapping his arm around her waist. 

“You smell like you’ve been using my soap.” She grumbled against his plastron. 

He shrugged. “ I like the way you smell.” 

Rolling her eyes she tugged the blanket higher over her shoulders smiling as soft chirping filled the room, the sound he always made right as he fell asleep. 

“Good night Tello.” She whispered.

His plastron vibrated as he churred back, gently running circles through her hair. 

She was home. And she was safe.

~

squad don't write stuff at four AM I'm pretty sure this only makes sense to me at this point. Anyway I was listening to my pretty princess playlist while writing this 💁‍♀️

the reason why this was written is in the tags btw

[lesshingedhiro]

real but lowkey i choose to interpret it differently its undeniable that jc had no consent in that but i think the complication of his feelings over this was less about tje consent and more about the why did you choose to keep this from me bc now he feels like he has to be grateful to wwx despite spending like . 13 years hating him and committing on the verge, if not, actual crimes in the name of his hatred. so its natural he doesnt know wtf hes meant to feel snd i think his crashing out over that is valid

that said, the golden core scene was basically inevitable to me if we wanted to ever see jc become a sect leader or even live past the age of like 20. ive written abt this somehwere else but to jiang cheng, a boy so deeply insecure over his position, his abilities, his identity as jiang cheng, heir to ymj, losing his golden core would be the equivalent of literally losing his way of life and by extension his life - he cant do anything. cant seek revenge over the loss of his core, cant become sect leader, cant even protect himself, much less wwx, jyl or anyone else he cared about. he becomes useless, and to someone who almost continuously craves validation and needs to feel like they're talented in some way to deserve their standing, which for jc was being heir and having a golden core, losing both at almost the same time renders him rightfully straight up broken. and when this happens he genuinely loses any will to live and wouldve probably just died within the next week if not given hope. jc was quite frankly refusing any and all aid and methods to sustain himself and i dont think he would've minded shrivelling and dying in that state. if wwx hadnt found some way to "restore" his golden core jc as he is during the present of mdzs just wouldn't exist lmao. the reason why wwx never told jc was as u said bc he would've said no, the reasoning doesnt matter but the point stands. wwx is the kind of very self sacrificial person who as long as he doesn't die he can stand anything for the ppl he cares abt, especially the ppl he owes a debt to. he percieves a debt he owes to jc and to the jiang family for having taken him in and raised him, so with giving the golden core he would've settled the debt he felt he owed with what was essentially his life while making sure jiang cheng would feel like there was a point to living. if there was another way to restore his core im sure wwx would've absolutely taken it, but since there wasn't he could only bet on the one thing he did have. what wwx did may not have been the most righteous thing to do but it was one of the only things he could do within those circumstances.

Jiang Cheng Rant

Jiang Cheng gives me so many feelings, mostly about how ppl tend to blame him sm for certain things. To anyone who says he should be grateful to Wei Wuxian for giving him his golden core, DNI!!! BECAUSE ITS NOT TRUE!!! Let me tell you!! If someone told you they were doing one thing to help you get a limb back, AND THEN THEY WENT AND DID SURGERY ON YOU WHILE YOU WERE ASLEEP W/O YOUR CONSENT, YOU'D BE UPSET TOO!! I'm not saying all of the actions Jiang Cheng took were okay, but any1 who argues w me about the Golden Core Transfer and about Jiang Cheng's feelings about it should fuck off TwT I DONT EVEN POST ON TUMBLR but this rant is a LONG time coming. I reposted a rant about how we 'defend antagonists and villains' when that's NOT TRUE (which, pop off man), AND I JUST WANTED TO TALK ABOUT JIANG CHENG. Yes, I know he did wrong things, THEY ALL DID, but SO DID WEI WUXIAN. He's NOT perfect! None of them are! They all did bad things, and good things! That didn't mean that Wei Wuxian should've been treated the way he did, by his friends, family, and the cultivation world as a whole, BUT that doesn't mean he didn't do bad things. He should have NEVER gotten Wen Qing to operate on Jiang Cheng w/o his consent. Wei Wuxian Did Not give him the full story, and while he got BLANKET CONSENT to help get his Golden Core back, Wei Wuxian FUCKING KNEW that if he actually asked Jiang Cheng if they could do it that he'd say NO. Asking for forgiveness instead permission is ABSOLUTELY NOT okay in some situations! ESPECIALLY! When it comes to SURGERY and other medical operations!!

Anyways, I love Jiang Cheng. I do not support his wrongs but FUCK it's not fair that he didn't get a fucking say in the Golden Core transfer because IT WAS HIS BODY.

[cowwatcher]

.

[puhpandas]

listen hw2 was fun and all when it came out but god am I glad that we have other stuff going on now and that it's not the most recent relevant thing to talk about bc. jesus was it frustrating when it came out

[infiniteseriesofhalfways]

sitting in the parking lot thinking i might vom

[savage-rhi]

Fuchgenta??

[cherry-shipping]

ok so anyway. if anyone is curious abiut dreamy and their role in miles world. they r besties with him But also like a secret babysitter. because as hard as he tries He s kinda a shit hero And tbh every spiderman except like hobie (also dreamys bestie. btw) is naive as hell when it comes to heroism. theyre like crime bad always No exceptions. so dreamy works sorta from the shadows to Erm clean up after miles a bit. like. erm. bust certain so called villains out of jail bc like -_- a dude stealing baby formula from a store does Not deserve 2 go 2 prison Hello. and sometimes they team up w miles and they play incompetent and clumsy like Oh Nooo iaccidentally let the bad guy get away 😣😖 like they r literally playing secret hero babysitter for his ass. instead of those “from your friendly neighborhood spiderman” notes theyd be like. “sorry lol //local villain sympathizer”. n e ways Thats their deal. in miles universe Smiles ^_^

[snekdood]

if ppl telling you "jewish ppl in israel were already kicked out of other countries and have no where else to go" makes you feel compelled to call whoever said that a "zionist", I really just dont think you give af about jewish ppl's lives quite frankly.

if your "free palestine" means "getting rid" of all jewish civilians in israel I think you're probably just a heartless asshole.

[rearranging-deck-chairs]

rewatching 13s era for me is not so much diminishing returns as it is something opposite and eviler...............increasing losses? increasing losses

[sundial-bee-scribbles]

In case it's hard to read/understand: "If I had a nickel for every time I had a story with a blonde girl named after a plant, who has a German father and a French mother but absolutely hates said mom, I'd have two nickels. Which isn't a lot, but it's weird that it happened twice."

weird, extremely-specific tropes in my stories: pt 1

[funsizedshark]

i need more irl friends

[dxxtruction]

///

[confused-spood]

Where else am I gonna rant if not to a group of random strangers that barely know me, right? So ofc I'm gonna rant here cuz these people have no idea who tf I am.

....turns out I have no words to explain how I'm feeling right now so I offer this emoji instead: 😔

[aria0fgold]

I think what makes Dungeon Meshi a really Really good story is the fact that no amount of spoilers could ever give you a full picture cuz honestly, I still have no idea what's happening in it.

[opens-up-4-nobody]

...

[lecliss]

Why is Obito's height and weight listed as 182cm/70.3kg while Tobi is 175cm/55.9kg. THATS THE SAME FUCKING DUDE HOW DID OBITO SHRINK HIMSELF?????