#car accident death mention tw

[mikosouza]

— BASICS

Name: Miko Souza Age / D.O.B.: 30/04.14.1994 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Male, He/Him, & Unsure Hometown: Hemlock Springs, WA Job position: Clerk at Ready Player One Education: Current Student (third year) Relationship status: Single Positive traits: (loyal, compassionate, courageous, reliable, confident) Negative traits: (reserved, temperamental, brazen, workaholic, pessimistic)

— BIOGRAPHY

death tw, car accident tw, bad parenting tw

(TW: MENTIONS OF DEATH, CAR ACCIDENT, BAD PARENTING TW) Miko was born in Hemlock Springs to a family who didn’t have much to offer in terms of money and materialistic things. His sister joined the family early during the second year, but not too long after the arrival of his baby sister his mother passed due to a terrible car accident on her way home from work. Her death changed Miko's father forever, and life as Miko knew it.

His father took care of them at the best that bare minimum could offer. Once Miko was old enough, he began caring for both himself and his sister. His father drank away any extra cash they and, and eventually he stopped caring about the well-being of his kids. Still, it didn't stop him from drilling into Miko that HE would carry on the family name and there was no other path his father could see, or want, for his son. For the longest time, Miko followed that path.

He took over caring for his little sister and he was proud that there wasn’t a day his little sister would say ‘I want..’ and not be able to have whatever it was. Even if his father did not care to be around much, Miko made sure there was nothing but love in the household for his little sister.

(TW: DEATH MENTION, CAR ACCIDENT) Every Sunday Miko would take his sister to the park. He enjoyed showing her that life was as normal as it could be without a mother or a father around, and he was always trying to get her to be as much of a kid as possible. She was his world from the moment she was born. When Miko was thirteen, he took his sister to the park one tragic Sunday. He looked away from her for a SECOND and that’s all it took for her to run in the middle of the street for a rouge ball. By the time he had he turned to look at her all he saw was the car’s impact and his sister disappear beneath it. And as much as he screamed, cried, and tried his hardest to get her to respond to him, nothing changed the fact that his little light of joy was gone. His father never allowed him to forget that this was his fault, something that's remained cemented within him to this day.(end trigger)

As Miko got older he began to discover that his stomach seemed to tighten in knots whenever an attractive guy smiled in his direction. He found that his nights of passion with beautiful women no longer fulfilled him, but he couldn’t make sense of what was happening. He didn’t push further into his curiosity either because it infuriated him to think that he’d have to add another thing on the seemingly endless list of things for his father to be disappointed in him for. He had to carry the family name, somehow, and he did not need to add further bumps in the road. It didn't stop his mind from wandering.

He began to dive into school in order to keep himself busy. He's very passionate about marine life, and he is currently in his third year of college for his bachelors in the field. While he goes to school, he also works as a clerk at ready player one. Miko loves the job there and it does help pay the bills. thankfully, financial aid (so long as he keeps up good grades) helps over his studies. He is honestly just a guy with a big golden heart and some horrible puns to go with it.

CONNECTIONS & PLOTS:

A step sibling: his father isn't the most honest man. maybe this sibling occurred during an affair or after his mom passed. either way, we can plot it out and discuss!

Close Friend: he would love someone who he can talk to about any and everything with. he's a huge nerd, so he'd probably be constantly talking this person's ear off about something like dnd, sci-fi, ocean life, etc. true ride or dies type vibes!

Roommate (s): this can be open to one or two muses! the more the merrier, and we love pets up in this house! Miko is very friendly, but he also is probably the most quiet and shyest of the group/duo. would love like a new girl type of vibe!

Ex-hook up: perhaps this could be a summer fling that happened or just a drunken night! either way, we can make it awkward or angsty! could also be that they hooked up and now just joke about that night.

& MORE TBD

[u3pxx]

had the stray urge to design the gavin parents. what if kristoph was their favorite what then ...

cw: car crash mention below

thinking abt the "all gavins are terribly nearsighted" headcanon of mine. in my mind, the gavins have no concrete backstory bc i ain't got brain space for that pftt

but. i think they're similar to the skyes in which they lost their parents when they were still young. in a car accident where kristoph and klavier were the only ones who survived.

with klavier fast asleep.

kristoph was 17 and klavier was 9.

i am a "kristoph raised klavier by himself" truther bc of the [waves hands] implications of all that like wow!

(having to become a parent for your little brother the growing resentment of having to be the parent of your little brother but he's your little brother. you must remember that he's your little br

ANYWAYS , what if kristoph was their parent's favorite. like klavier was the happy precocious kid during family reunions yes, but what if bright, brilliant, and promising kristoph was their favorite. have you ever thought about th

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I realised too late that my brother and his girlfriend were working for Sweet Tooth and they basically went on a suicide mission where my dad crashed into their car and then Sweet Tooth crashed into my dad’s car and fed him poison sweets which made him laugh a lot and then he died.

[chickenlover-19]

Was inspired to go thru my wip folder and found the layouts for that comic I teased a while back, and. I really. Want to. Get back to this.

DP has me back in a chokehold, and honestly? I missed it a lot. And I’ve missed the people here.

Was in a really rough spot for a while and for the first time in a little while it feels like I can breathe again. Life update under the cut.

My grandfather passed a little while ago and I kinda dropped off the face of the planet. My family and I weren’t surprised by his passing, but we certainly weren’t expecting it.

On my way to his memorial, I was involved in a head on collision. Miraculously, no serious injuries occurred but my car was totaled. (For the record I was not at fault haha)

For a while, all I could think was “it’s just too much” because it just felt like shit just. would. not. stop. One of my family’s cats passed and a friend of mine was diagnosed with cancer.

Looking back on it, it’s absurd that I didn’t believe that I was struggling with depression. It was a lot. And kind of still is to an extent. But I’m doing better.

Which is why I’m so happy that I’m wanting to draw again, that I’m back in the phandom and reconnecting with friends here.

Anyway, that’s all for for now folks (please, God, let that be all). Happy to be back here and hoping to be more active. Thanks for letting me ramble.

[thisbarbiereallylikesbirds]

YOU MUST TELL...........

how did Shen react to Lou's disappearance? Did she know he had a date with Big Mama? Did Shen know Lou was going to propose?

she knew about the date AND the proposal and...honestly thought he was gonna chicken out

due to the ~commitment issues~ this wasn't the first time Lou Jitsu said he was gonna propose, but it was the first time that he actually bought a ring (instead of panicking while he was at the jewelry store and buying a necklace or something)

at first when shen doesn't hear anything she assumes he didn't actually propose, or he did propose and she said no

after a bit she starts to wonder if she said yes and they ran off and eloped

after a significant amount of time has passed (enough that all future Lou Jitsu movies have been cancelled) she comes to the conclusion that he and Big Mama probably got into some car accident and died

she is obviously very upset by the fact that her two closest friends died, and wishes that she could have more closure, but accepts that she probably won't

...until one day post-movie when she receives a phone call from splinter

then she wants ANSWERS

[wulfsmilk]

morfydd   clark,      35,      cis   woman,      she/her         𐫱               ›         hey,   isn’t   that   mabel   deering?   i’ve   heard   that   they’ve   lived   in   bearhold   for   their   entire   life.   rumor   has   it   that   they   can   be   rather   faraway   and   timorous,   but   hey,   that’s   just   in   their   nature   as   a   banshee.   they   totally   make   up   for   it   by   being   softhearted   and   sentimental.   if   you’re   looking   for   them,   you   can   probably   find   them   at   their   work   as   an   innkeeper   at   three   crows   inn.

bearhold   native   ﹠   former   local   recluse;   a   shy   and   nervous   youth   who   always   felt   a   bit   apart   from   her   peers   ﹙   even   those   strange   and   fascinating   folk   so   common   to   these   parts   ﹚   ,   prone   to   woolgathering   and   detachment

sort   of   stumbled   through   life   for   a   long   time,   searching   for   something   that   fit   —   feared   becoming   a   burden   to   family,   who   really   did   try   their   best   but   never   quite   knew   her

not   that   she   knew   herself,   even;   she   never   blamed   them

﹠   love   can't   make   everything   right,   mabel   knows   that   now

so   perhaps   then   it   was   a   kind   of   magic   that   brought patrick   to   her,   a   patient   soul   who   seemed   to   understand   mabel   in   spite   of   herself

the   lights   in   the   haunted   house   that   was   her   spirit   seemed   all   to   spark   on

﹙   and   i   imagine   him   being   a   pillar   of   the   community   as   well,   salt   of   the   earth   type;   helped   her   bloom   and   become   better   involved   in   their   community   ﹚

they   were   married   in   october,   a   perfect   autumn   evening   —   much   of   said   community   would   have   been   invited,   i'd   like   to   think

quite   soon   after   their   nuptials   did   they   start   work   on   the   brainchild   that   would   eventually   become   three   crows   inn   ﹠   more   about   that   can   be   read   on   the   locations   page!!

something   they   could   pour   themselves   into,   and   mabel   always   did   love   a   project;   savings   drained,   loans   to   pay   back,   but   it   was   theirs

and   if   life   were   fair,   the   story   would   stop   here,   in   their   happily   ever   after

vagueness   bc   you   know   i   love   never   finalizing   any   details   —   but   just   six   months   ago,   patrick   died   in   what   was   believed   to   be   a   hit-and-run   accident   .   .   .   and   maybe   it   was   that,   and   maybe   there   was   actually   something   supernatural   behind   it   all?   but   who   knows,   really.   i   don't.   do   you?

mabel   has   been   understandably   distraught,   but   seems   to   be   falling   ever   deeper   into   grief   with   each   passing   hour

﹠ �� through   his   death,   more   understanding;   the   gnawing   ache   in   the   pit   of   her   stomach   that   morning,   a   sudden   sense   of   inevitable   doom   .   .   .   something   clicked   into   place

she   opened   her   mouth   and   her   first   banshee   keening   forced   its   way   out

yk   she's   giving   a   little   eleanor   vance,   a   little   sally   owens,   a   little   survivor's   guilt,   the   perpetual   mourning   dove

wanted

umm??   like,   witches   who   may   be   willing   to   entertain   a   little   bit   of   necromancy.   just   kidding.   well   —   .   .   .   okay,   listen.   mabel   is   floundering   and   she   is   desperate   and   she   would   do   anything   to   bring   her   husband   back,   perhaps   even   to   her   own   detriment.   she   may   not   really   understand   witchcraft   and   what   can   be   done   in   actuality,   but   that   won't   stop   her   from   asking!

other   banshees   she   might   find   kinship   with.   someone   to   help   her   stabilize,   learn,   cope,   etc.

she   is   currently   looking   for   help   running   the   inn   —   she   can't   pay   you   very   much,   though   .   .   .   and   you   can't   be   afraid   of   ghosts.   ﹙   did   i   mention   three   crows   is   haunted??   or   believed   to   be   haunted.   or,   mabel   believes   it's   haunted   .   .   .   and   maybe   a   few   of   the   neighbor   kids   who   dare   each   other   to   throw   rocks   at   the   attic   windows.   ﹚

i   think   that's   it   for   now   .   .   .   yk,   she's   been   here   all   her   life,   probably   knows   a   lot   of   people,   a   lot   of   people   would   have   known   and   loved   her   husband   .   .   .   yeah. okay love you bye!

[tul1ps1]

𓂀 𝓉𝑜 𝓈𝑒𝑒 𝓎𝑜𝓊 𝑜𝓃𝒸𝑒 𝓂𝑜𝓇𝑒. 𓂀

satoru gojo x y/n angst.

tw: overdose, grieving a dead loved one

⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘ ⚘

nights with you suddenly turned into sleepless nights alone. satoru laid in bed, the time was now 4 AM. only the sounds of raindrops and thunder roaring were heard outside. a tear slipped down his pale skin as he scrolled through a photo album of you two. he clicked on a video where you were eating ice cream. your laughs almost brought a smile to his face, yet stabbed his heart. how long has it been without you? he missed the way your warm lips felt on his. the way your light up any room you walked into. how soft your skin felt. how a simple touch would warm his body. it wasn’t fair. how could you leave him like this? he didn’t know if he was more mad at the world, himself, or you. no, he could never be mad at you. anytime satoru felt alone, as if no one understood him, you always reassured him. you held him, took care of him, and loved him. so much he questioned if you were real sometimes. even though it hurt, he continued to scroll through the album. the more pictures he saw of you two together, the more tears he cried. he remembered how frequently you complimented his eyes. you said they reminded you of the deep blue sea. you said they gleamed in the moonlight, and shined in the sunlight. he knew that you wouldn’t want him to be like this, to be crying so much, to be hurting. no, you would want him to be happy. unfortunately, you were his happiness. he physically cant live without his one true love. his other half. if only he could go back. to see you once more. that beautiful smile and those breathtaking eyes. he cant stand listening to your voicemails anymore. hearing your voice through a recording wasn’t the same.

“satoru! my love, pick up the phone it’s urgent!”

january 23rd, 2024

“hi love, im waiting on some friends and ill be back home soon, dont stay up late waiting on me. i love you.”

march 15th, 2024

“baby i miss you soooo much. im stuck at the airport but ill see you sooo soon. i love you satoru, bye!”

may 31st, 2024

“im on my way home toru, im taking a uber so dont worry about picking me up haha. be there soon. i cant wait to see your handsome smile. see ya, i love you.”

may 31st, 2024

why? why did you have to uber home? why couldn’t he have just picked you up? you could’ve still been here. crys turned into sobs. satoru couldnt do anything now. he cant go back in time and save you from that car accident. he closed his eyes and saw you. for the first time in a while he felt peace. the sight of you brought him comfort. but when he opened his eyes you were gone and the throbbing pain retuned. he knew what he had to do. theres only one way he could be with you once more. there would be no more pain. just you two together forever, like it should’ve been. he got up and swallowed as many pills as he could find. followed along with his mental pain, was now physical pain. it didn’t matter to him. satoru went back to lay down. he closed his eyes once more and saw you again. he saw your beautiful soul again.

[randomwriteronline]

His bad leg hurt like hell. Perditus clenched his teeth hard enough for his hairs to begin standing on their ends as he pulled himself out of the wreckage of his Thornatus.

Such a mighty vehicle, reduced to a pile of scraps.

Ain't that the way things go.

He looked down: like some sort of badly cut bread, chunks of fake meat parted to reveal that blasted prosthetic bone he was bound to until his flesh would at last be rotting off of him, scratched and bent and still half melted in places - a cheeky last parting gift from Death after he'd paid the rest of his life to evade it.

The ground beneath him was hard, and rocky, and uncomfortable to crawl upon on all fours. He had no other choice, so the stone kept digging into the heels of his palms and he kept biting back groans.

Then he came.

He made no light, no sound, no nothing, but he had a wire pinned to Perditus's neck, a mental link that grew slack or taut like a puppet's string: and he felt it pull suddenly, and a splendid smile came to into his thoughts before he even turned to see it.

Velika stood. He was tall, like this, unburdened by the broken body he'd forcibly fit himself within for centuries. His back was straight, his hair was long; his eyes had a shine to them, almost mischievous, almost genial, a bright intelligence that made his gaze so innocent, as though he could not hurt even the most insignificant of ants.

Velika stood, like he'd stood before him on that horrible day, identical in every way down to the very clothes he wore, down to his very expression: he stood like'd stood back then, looking every bit divine.

Numb uncaring nihilism squirmed within Perditus.

It fought, it thrashed, it rebelled, it clawed and gnawed and punched and kicked, but its adversary was too great: his last shield was torn apart from within, its guts spilled across oval pupils.

"NO!"

Velika stood, smile dropped.

"NO!" Perditus barked again, scrambling away, pain suddenly an afterthought in the wake of animalistic fear: "NO! NO! NO!"

Velika stood, with eyes wide and still from the surprise.

"NO! NO MORE! NO MORE! NO MORE!"

His hand searched for purchase. It found only a sharp descent which teared into it, ripping its wet flesh apart, and then a long void.

Velika stood frozen and unblinking as the frightened eyes capsized, disappeared from sight, when the body was dragged down the ravine by gravity as the Glatorian still screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and screamed, and then did not scream anymore.

Perditus laid at the bottom of the cliff, curled up in a strange and ugly pose, at the end of the long intermittent trail of his blood.

He gazed into the rock with the same impossible terror.

Velika stood, staring at his bent neck from so high above him with only a blank expression. Then he simply left, as suddenly as he'd come: with no light, no sound, no nothing.

-

Gelu walked in: "Perditus is dead," he said gravely.

No reply came.

Then softly, very softly, Atakus spoke.

He said something, something indeed, but nobody understood it: his voice was too low, his breaths were too loud. He grasped his chest as he stumbled right into the wall - grasped at his frantically beating heart threatening to break his ribcage and rupture his lungs.

He walked out of the walls that had been his prison unhindered as no Agori nor Glatorian made any move to stop him. The Toa turned to look at them, confused by their paralysis, unsure what to do.

The Potori's escape was not a long one: his trembling limbs gave in as he fell on the sands, mere bio away from where he'd started.

A sound came out of his mouth.

And it rose, and it rose, and it rose, until it became a piercing wail.

From inside the small building, the others watched him. They watched him tear his armor off to beat his chest like a fury; they watched him grab at his wool and pull, pull, pull until it was torn off of him; they watched him fold in on himself, howling like a fox doomed to die in a forgotten rusted trap, as he he slammed his head into the ground over and over.

Raanu shot out an arm to block the Toa trying to reach the screaming thing: "Leave him," he murmured. "He'll be done soon."

"He's hurting himself," the artificial being replied, still puzzled, incapable of understanding, brilliant crystal eyes traveling between the elder and the sorry spectacle so close and yet so far from them, "He's hitting himself - what is happening? What is he doing?"

"He's mourning."

Atakus wailed.

He spoke his mother tongue, his old stone dialect, calling helplessly for many things at once - a mother, a brother, a cousin, a lover, a friend, a healer, a patron, a slave, a warrior, a saint... What could he do? What could he do? There was no wail for a gambler, no wail for a beggar. No wail for someone he could not define, and so his grief-stricken mind cobbled together everything, everything, every form and code he could remember.

A voice reached him eventually, after his chest was battered with bruises and his nails had half shaven his head: the words entered his ears and made a nest within, forgotten immediately - except for one.

He turned his head with wrathful crazed eyes and teeth bared: "FRIEND!" he repeated spitefully: "We were no friends!"

He stood fulminously once more with his dagger in hand, unable and unwilling to recognize who he was talking to, unfocused vision incapable of distinguishing materials or colors or armor designs from one another from within the spiraling throes of his madness.

"If we'd met in the War he would have blown my head open!" he shrieked. "He would have run me over until my bones were fine mist, and I would have done the same to him!"

Just as quickly as his rage had come, it submitted to invincible pain: Atakus shivered harshly, losing his grip on his weapon and twisting his face into a horrible grimace, and clutched again his chest with a horrid strangled cry.

"Oh Perditus, oh Perditus..." he sobbed softly between heaving breaths. He panted as he tried desperately to suck in as much air as he could while sinking to his knees; his teeth gnashed together once more, with his horizontal pupils turned upwards towards his spooked interlocutor lit by a frightening fire and his voice pitched high into a garbled growl: "You have no idea what it means...! To be a debtor for life...! To have each new breathing second be an inescapable fee...! To have every moment of your life stolen from your hands, because that is how you paid your survival...!"

A groan left him, foam building in his mouth, trickling from his lips. He sunk blunt nails into his chest before slamming his fists into the hole his faulty heart called home until it adhered to the rhythm of his furious beating, until this body that stifled him like a too warm blanket followed his orders and kept functioning without needing the appearance that blasted loaner of a god, without forcing him to renew that contract he'd signed so young and foolish and close to an anguishing death.

"You don't understand!" he wailed, "You will never understand!"

Something struck him. Something rattled along the drumming of his infernal organ and sparked a wrong connection in his nerves, setting them on fire, devouring part of his brain.

Uncomprehending eyes watched him grab at the air behind his nape with crazed purpose, bringing it to his mouth where his dull straight teeth bit down on it as though it were a wire: he thrashed around it, pulling with his hands and jerking his head back repeatedly, violently, snarling like a rabid beast and desperately trying to cut something that wasn't there.

"BESTIAL THING!" he growled and spat and hissed, "BLASTED GREEDY BASTARD! HORRIBLE, DIGUSTING, DAMNED--"

With a horrid shriek he jolted again: his jaw snapped open, his fists parted with a sudden motion, and he stumbled back panting as if he'd just lifted the sky back into place.

"I DEFY YOU!" he howled into the nothingness. "I DESERT YOU!"

He laughed, horrid and mirthless, for only a moment.

Then he crumbled upon himself, clutching his chest again with both hands, whimpering in anguish.

"Perditus, Perditus, oh, Perditus..." they heard him sob under his breath like a prayer when they approached him, to bring him back in so that his sputtering heart could rest: "Oh Perditus, giatí me áphēses, giatí me áphēses? Ḗmastan oi mónoi pou mporoúsame na kataláboume, oi mónoi… Oh, Perditus, giatí me áphēses, giatí me áphēses móno se autón ton tromaktikó kósmo?"

-

"Perditus has died to evade me," Velika said with a blank expression.

Pohatu felt his heart stop for a moment.

"Do you think he's made a good choice?"

"What?"

"Do you think he's made a good choice?"

He stared into the Great Being's unmoving eyes.

"What sort of question is that?" he asked, appalled.

"Do you think he's made a good choice?"

"He's dead," the once Toa ignored him. He held his disgustingly soft face in his hands, still shocked. He would not pretend he'd liked the man for what little he'd known of him, not after his trap had almost gotten Kiina and Kopaka injured and was the reason he'd accepted to be stuck amongst these infuriating gods to keep them from trying to kill his siblings and friends; but he had still been a sapient living being like the rest of them, and the way his end was spoken of made his flesh seize within him until his mouth tasted nauseous and his vision was swimming. "He's dead - Mata Nui... What happened to him?"

"He's died to evade me." Velika repeated once more, empty tone unchanged. "Do you think he's made a good choice?"

Patience depleted, Pohatu snapped: "What does that even mean?"

"Would you consider death a viable path to escape your situation?"

Their brown eyes mirrored each other as they both stared.

"How are you this crosswired when you have no wires to cross?" the once Toa asked back.

Velika's mouth opened: "Ah ah," he said without intention. The sound fell from his parted lips like change from a broken vending machine. "Would you consider death a viable path to escape your situation?"

He stood across him, blocking the door completely with his silhouette: his back was straight, his head held still.

Pohatu bolted further away from him, suddenly terribly frightened, hitting his spine hard against the wall: "What is wrong with you!" he cried out.

Velika remained perfectly still, a pillar of salt unmoved by any and all passions: "Would you consider death a viable-"

His hand startled.

The words died on Velika's tongue, and he widened his eyes. He looked down to his palm: his ring finger stood out, dislocated, as if it had been yanked or bent with great force.

A strange hissed whine left him.

His eyes (not as blank as before, alight with pain and something close to fear) settled back on the Toa with a snapping movement as he hurriedly held his injured appendix in its twin: "You'll answer later." he decided for him.

His clothes rustled like leaves caught in a temperamental wind as he walked away at a quick pace, relieving the doorframe of his terrifying presence - abandoning only the vague shape of his own afterimage there, like a large spot of darkened static lingering in the vision of one who has looked into the sun too long.

Pohatu waited, and waited, until the sound of his steps disappeared.

"There's something wrong with him," he murmured.

"I noticed," Takanuva tried to joke from his hiding spot as his armor slowly reflected the light in the room in a way that colored it white and gold once more.

But his older brother did not laugh, gazing past the door, still fearing the return of that unnatural empty voice, those unnatural empty eyes: "I mean it," he whispered, dead serious, thinking of Bohrok: "There's something wrong with him."

-

shout-out to The End Of Hope by @bread-into-toast, which grabbed me by the fucking throat this evening and is the sole reason any of this got written. wonderful zine. delightfully unsettling. go read it.

[joen-lenawley]

Why do so many people who draw fanart of Billy Shears make him evil and holding a knife and sadistic and covered in blood? It’s not like he murdered Paul in the original conspiracy theory. People claim that Paul died in a car crash (“he blew his mind out in a car”), so it wouldn’t really make sense for him to depicted as a murderous psychopath. I get that people do make AUs where he is (I love the “A Day in the Life” comic), but art like that out of context bothers me a little. Plus, if he murdered Paul, why would the Beatles want a murderer replacing their bandmate? Do what you want, though, I’m not your mom and this is completely trivial.

Anyways, sorry, I’ve been getting obsessed with Paul is Dead lately. I don’t believe in it (obviously), but it’s super fascinating. Might write something based on it.

[fake-destiel-news]

Source Source

[sterlingxlevin]

closed starter: @dancingdanvers

where: Sterling's house

Sterling had done everything she could to keep her mind off the car accident since it happened. She had scratches and bruises but thankfully nothing terrible. It was Liza who'd gotten the worst of it and it was so upsetting to see her sister upset and hurt. But Sterling was also struggling. She blamed herself for it happening and she kept thinking about their mom since she was lost in an accident when Sterling was six.

But, trying to keep her mind off things, Sterling kept inviting friends over her house to spend time with her. One of those friends being Sloane. "We could go into town and get some coffee? Or we could watch a movie and order takeout." She shrugged, trying to come up with something fun for them to do.

[lifewithchronicpain]

I already knew this, but my mom was reminding me when she was complaining about people saying they don't drive any better if they see "baby on board" signs on a car. First off, okay, you're an asshole.

But more importantly, That's Not Why They Were Created! It's so if the car is in an accident, rescue workers know they need to look for a baby. Back when I was growing up especially, car seats were not made as well and it could go flying in a crash. If the baby is unconscious or just being quiet, because they do that too, and the adult is unconscious or dead, they can't tell them there was a baby.

So like, I hope you drive safe anyway, but the "baby on board" signs aren't trying to be some status symbol of parenthood. They're a safety step in case of the worst.

[bandy-andy]

When you and the guy you have a complicated relationship with fucking kill somebody on accident

Based on this post

[brkwingss]

— BASICS

Name: Ricardo Jimenez Age / D.O.B.: 32/04.14.1992 Gender, Pronouns & Sexuality: Cis Male, He/Him, & Pansexual Hometown: Corpus Christi, Texas Affiliation: Brotherhood Job position: Fighter at The Arene/Bartender at Gentille Fille Education: One year of college Relationship status: Single Children: 0 Positive traits: (loyal, compassionate, courageous, reliable, confident) Negative traits: (reserved, temperamental, brazen, workaholic, pessimistic)

— BIOGRAPHY

(tw: mentions of death, car accident) ricardo was born in corpus christi, texas, to a family who didn’t have much to offer in terms of money and materialistic things. he lived in corpus christi for about two years after his birth, and his sister joined the family early during the second year. not too long after the arrival of his baby sister his mother passed due to a terrible car accident on her way home from work; leaving ricardo's father never the same since, and he took the first chance he could to take his children out of texas for a better life somewhere else.(tw: end)

they landed in queens, nyc. his father eventually started his own company for carpeting and kept a steady income for the two of them. the problem was that with more income his father made the more he drank, and eventually he stopped caring about the well-being of his kids. growing up, ricardo's father always drilled in him that HE would carry on the family name and there was no other path his father could see, or want, for his son. for the longest time, ricardo followed that path.

he took over caring for his little sister, despite having to also learn how to care for himself. he was proud that there wasn't a day his little sister would say 'i want..' and not be able to have whatever it was. even if his father did not care to be around much, ricardo made sure there was nothing but love in the household for his little sister.

(tw: death mention, car accident) every sunday ricardo would take his sister to the park. he enjoyed showing her that life was as normal as it could be without a mother or a father around, and he was always trying to get her to be as much of a kid as possible. she was his world from the moment she was born and it's something that he still carries to this day. when ricardo was thirteen, he took his sister to the park one tragic sunday. he looked away from her for a second and that’s all it took for her to run in the middle of the street for a rouge ball. by the time he had he turned to look at her, all he saw was the car’s impact and his sister disappear beneath it. as much as he screamed, cried, and tried his hardest to get her to respond to him, nothing changed the fact that his little light of joy was gone. he had no idea who they were, just that they were affiliated with a gang. (end trigger)

as ricardo got older, he began to discover parts about himself that he didn’t even know could exist. he discovered a darkness that filled the void the passing his little sister left, and he was consumed by guilt. if things were rocky with his father before they were practically nonexistent now, and he found a passion in fixing cars. working on cars seemed to be the only thing that could keep him from exploding on everyone, for a while this worked. one of the other things he began to discover in himself was that his stomach seemed to tighten in knots whenever an attractive guy smiled in his direction. he found that his nights of passion with beautiful women no longer fulfilled him, but he couldn't make sense of what was happening. he didn't push further into his curiosity either because it infuriated him to think that he'd have to add another thing on the seemingly endless list of things for his father to hate him. he had to carry the family name, somehow, and he did not need to add further bumps in the road. still his mind often wandered.

he eventually found a home within the top wash laundromat as a clerk, while still doing mechanic stuff on the side. he's known to have a dry, sarcastic sense of humor that often mixes in with a dark sense of humor as well. his new home resides within the arene as one of it's fighters and gentille fille as a bartender. he's a scrappy kinda guy and will not hesitate to throw a punch, if need be, so he has a warning sign for anyone who wants to enter the laundromat and cause trouble.

— RANDOM HEADCANNONS

he has a huge heart. he'd give you the shirt off his back if you asked him and the guy wouldn't think twice about it.

he has a pup named teddy. he loves teddy to bits and pieces. there isn't a chance that ric doesn't take to show off pictures of teddy to anyone who cares.

huge into horror movies and fall! he's all about that shit. if you asked him to stay home to watch horror flicks instead of going out, he would make a dinner themed to said movie.

he loves hip hop and rock music. he pretty much listens to it constantly, especially when he's working out at the gym.

he is fluent in spanish and english!

he loves a good smoking session.

— WANTED CONNECTIONS / PLOTS

elizabeth beaufort: she is a very close friend to ricardo. there isn't anything that ric holds back from her, except when it involves the brotherhood. he helps take care of the twins wheneer elizabeth needs a night to herself, sometimes it's just because ric has planned a trip to the zoo for them or something like that. he considers himself almost like an uncle to them. needless to say, liz and ric are pretty hard ride or dies for another. once they killed a guy named paul. rip paul.

tristan zaire: the leader of the brotherhood and ricardo's roommate. rather, he's tristan's roommate considering he's living at tristan's place currently. at times he can forget that tristan is the leader of the brotherhood because the two of them have gone through so much together and they were friends before this madness had occurred. he's happy living with tristan, even if he's constantly looking for a new place to live. he sometimes feels like a burden to the other guy, though tristan has never said or done anything for him to even feel that way. he would protect and die for him because he's his close friend, but also because of obvious reasons.

luke c.h. weiss: he is one of ricardo's ex-boyfriends. they met shortly after his return to new york and dated for almost two years. he was pretty much ricardo's first boyfriend. they sometimes had a long distance relationship due to luke's constant work related travels. for a while that worked...until it didn't. the two broke up just before their two year anniversary, it was mutual. he holds no ill will towards luke in the slightest.

jude freling: father jude and ricardo share a very special connection but ric couldn't tell you how it began if you asked him. in his darkest of times, jude has been the only one who could knock some sense into him in a way only he could. his words bring a great comfort to ricardo and he looks up to the man a lot. he tries to help out around the church when the chance presents himself too.

vanja janko-pagonis: vanja also is an ex-boyfriend of his. they met out of pure chance one night, exchanged numbers, played a game of twenty-one questions, and the rest became history. they became ricardo's first love in many ways. they broke up due to a lot of life complications and to this day vanja holds a special place in ricardo's heart. he got a small red string tattoo on the fourth finger of his left hand that lets him keep them around even if they aren't physically there.

MORE CONNECTIONS TO COME

[torisaysyeet]

Deeply upsetting news I recently learned.

James Phryllias, also known as Schaffrillas Productions, was involved in a severe car accident Jan 29th with his brother Patrick and his friend Chris Schaffer. James has been stated thus far to be alive and conscious, but both Chris and Patrick were pronounced dead at the scene.

I hope to James, his family, and his partner a peaceful recovery from this horrifying event and severe tragedy. If you can, help support James financially through any of his given sources like watching/rewatching his YouTube videos and such. However, do not demand he make new videos, review some new movie, yadda yadda. Let him rest, let him grieve.