#it's not a very nice story

[schumigrace]

The Lighthouse

two months before my 18th birthday, my mother, auntie and uncle picked me up from college and sat me down in the back of the old renault my uncle had had since I was 6. my mother took my hand in hers, but the icy touch that I came to associate with her presence did little to soothe my shaking. I was sure someone had died, or was severely ill. she told me with a blank stare that her and my dad were getting a divorce.

I knew this, of course. not because anyone had told me, but because there hadn't been an inch of love in my childhood home since the day they came back from a weekend in London 3 years earlier. I still haven't asked what happened.

I asked to go home. she said don't be silly. my uncle called my dad a daft cunt and my auntie cried. I asked to go home.

my uncle started the engine, I took my hand away from my mother. he turned the car in the wrong direction so I opened the door and jumped. my auntie cried louder, I got the bus home.

it took one look at my dad for me to burst into tears, I'll never take for granted the warmth of his hug that night. he made tea and we sat on the sofa and he put on an old episode of doctor who. she came back and sat opposite us. we said nothing, she just stared. they slept in separate beds for what was probably the 300th night in a row.

my mother wanted the house, my dad said okay. we started looking for flats together, somewhere he could walk to work and we could keep the dogs. there wasn't anywhere.

the next week, I stopped listening to music. if I listened to music I wouldn't be able to hear every word they spat at eachother. I spent every second sat on the top step, staring at nothing. the frost had begun to settle on the walls and in the old wooden floorboards beneath me.

two days later I came home from school to a police van outside my house. I stood there for what felt like hours, wondering what would happen if I ran. if none of it would be real.

she had locked the front door when he tried to leave. took a kitchen knife to her own arm when he picked up his keys and called the police. the police believed her. I believed my long-faded bruises that throbbed at the site of dad leaving police custody the next day.

I stopped going to school after that.

I got on a plane on my 18th birthday without telling anybody. I flew to Reykjavik and walked for hours in the cold of winter. I told my life story to the mural of a bird on the side of Grotta Lighthouse. it still makes me laugh to this day that that lighthouse carries more of my burdens than my own parents.

then I flew home.

I didn't leave the house for longer than a few hours for the next two years. I drove 4-hour round trips to uni every week because leaving full time meant not knowing. I wasn't sure I'd be able to ever go back if I stayed away too long, but I couldn't risk another police van outside my childhood sanctuary.

mam didn't want the house anymore, too many memories she said. but she stayed. my dad slept with a door stop under his door every night, I slept on the kitchen floor with the dogs.

a young couple live in that house now. they had a baby yesterday, and have taken her home this evening. I hope they sleep without a door stop, in the comfort of a warm bed. I hope she sees her parent's intertwined hands and believes them. I hope that she doesn't flinch whenever her mother combs her hair. I hope she never feels the chill from the layer of frost that settled in the floorboards.

I was so angry that they stayed. they both stayed. they chose to live in that house of hatred and violence and bitterness. they stayed for me, they said. so that I wouldn't have to leave my childhood home.

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

License to Kitty.

[egophiliac]

was this anyone else's first thought, or

[benevolenterrancy]

Scholarly peak is catching up on recent literature

[khaopybara]

❝Have you ever kissed?❞

WON TAEMIN as GO HOTAE and HAN DOWOO as KIM DONGHEE episode 4 of THE TIME OF FEVER

[shorthaltsjester]

watching the sdcc panel and i am just very :) about how sweet their answers to “what are some of the micro moments from the game that have stuck with you the most over the years?” are. taliesin saying what the fuck is up with that which was the first like The Party Gets To Know Each Other moments of c3. travis saying asking his wife if he could kiss her in campaign. marisha going way back to the cannonball competition in campaign one. ashley choosing the beauyasha date but also just the silly goat noise matt made. liam adding onto that to compliment matt roleplaying grass so well and then saying his favourite moment was writing a story for laura and reading it to her as caleb for jester. and then matt saying that was his answer, and that his favourite moments of the game are when they find ways to give gifts to each other whether tangible or not. and sam saying his favourite moments have less to do with the story and is more so when he can just. see his friends across the table from him. when marisha perches and when laura and ashley are (badly) drawing dicks and liam saying he loves when sam sneezes and ashley tells him to stop it and just. yeah. they Are an extremely popular online powerhouse, but i’m so happy that they’re also friends building a world together out of gifts to and love for one another.

like i Am so enamoured with the characters and the world of exandria but the moments when you can feel the love that those people have for each other reach out from behind the stained glass of their performances (to steal a metaphor from brennan lee mulligan) are so extremely special and i am endlessly grateful that they decided to share their silly little home game with the world.

[idanit]

solidarity

[bizarrelittlemew]

calling it right now that season 3 starts like this

[unproduciblesmackdown]

Lackadaisy Enrichment

[fizzytoo]

[wszczebrzyszynie]

ive noticed that in every au where murder is/can be a relatively normal occurence Ryba kills people what i imagine to be above the average au bodycount. I like using aus to explore my ocs more in situations that would never happen in canon (termina is great for that its one of my favourites because of the moonscorch. its perfect for character exploration) and this isnt something i planned in any way it just happened. not sure what to make of that and i made him. just wanted to share

[rebouks]

Previous // Next

[crickets chirping] [Robin gasped as he woke, scrambling backwards through the brush; he was pretty sure by now that ghosts couldn’t hurt him, at least not directly, but this particular entity was still unknown-.. and very close] Robin: AH! ?: AHHH! [Seemingly just as surprised as he was, the startled sprit mimicked Robin’s exclamation] Robin: Sorry! ?: Thou see me-.. hear me?! Robin: Yeah.. that’s a good thing though, right? ?: ‘Tis certainly different. Robin: Wait, where are you going-.. what’s your name? Heath: Erm, ‘tis Heath-.. methinks. Robin: I’ve never seen you here before. Heath: I’ve seen thou-.. and that curious thing around thy neck. Robin: How long have you been, uh… Heath: Dead? Oh, a while. Robin: It’s a camera. Whatever you take a picture of will be captured just as you see it, forever-.. as long as the photo lasts anyway. Don’t ask me how it works though, ‘cause you wouldn’t believe me. [Heath squinted with simultaneous suspicion and bewilderment] Robin: Here’s one I took earlier-.. that weird orb thing there? That’s what you’d look like if I took a picture of you. I think because you’re not physically here anymore, you don’t show up, but I don’t know for sure. Heath: I’m not entirely certain what thou speak upon, yet it hath an air of witchcraft about it if thou bid me. [phone ringing] Robin: Hang on. Heath: I’m not e’en going to bid what that is. Robin: Sorry, mom.. I fell asleep. Courtney: Where are you? Robin: On the island-.. Devin said I could use the boat whenever. Courtney: [sighs] Can you just come home, please? Robin: Yeah, I’m coming. [Robin stared at his phone briefly before sticking it back in his pocket, he didn’t like phones at the best of times – being unable to read the person he was conversing with, even a little, felt inherently wrong – but this felt worse than usual] Robin: I’ve gotta go. Heath: Well, ‘tis not as though I be going anywhere-.. apparently. Robin: I’ll show you some more pictures next time, I promise! Heath: I suppose that’d be nice…

[egophiliac]

redesigning my headcanon for Sebek's parents, based on important new information (SCALES)

(you can't see it but they're both wearing crocs)

[respectthepetty]

Korn doesn't like smokers

Which is why he told Great to stop smoking

Which is why Tonkla hid the cigarettes when Korn came over

And it's why I found this interesting

Alexa, play SZA's "Kill Bill"

[aloeverified]

there are not nearly enough au's about newly divorced and single father fiddleford moving in with ford to work on their project and both of them essentially co-parenting tate while dancing around the fact that they're in love.

[gingermintpepper]

There are many things people expect from one called 'God of Blood'. Always, the first thought is the blood of war, the blood of violence, the blood of the weak shed for the goals of the strong. Ares doesn't think of the blood of battle at all. When he thinks of blood, he envisions the many tied knots of blood bonds and bonds forged in the blood of battle. Blood sons and blood daughters, blood brothers and battle sisters, blood oaths and blood vengeance - he watches over them all and keeps close each one of these bonds.

One cannot begrudge his displeasure then when he realises he cannot tell Leto's offspring apart just by looking at them.

It was easier when it was just Artemis. Dark hair curled about her shoulders, a fierce mien whenever Father summons her to the mountain, a scattering of bones and blood shed whenever she was disturbed; the eldest child of Leto was a wild thing, sharp toothed with sharper claws always at the ready. There's whispers of her being a twin, of her other half being made to crawl on their belly as penance for their sin of god-slaying but Ares pays it little mind. What twins look alike among their number? Even dog litters are born distinct with all their unique markings inlaid in their fur. Artemis' twin too would be much more than their sister's mirror image.

Pouring over his list now, he wishes anything about Phoebus Apollo was that simple.

Mirror image did not begin to describe it. The twins were the same height, the same build, had the same colour and texture hair, ate the same raw food and drank the same amount of nectar. There was no difference in how they dressed, no difference in the company they kept, no variance in the weapons they used. There are some days Ares still cannot believe Phoebus will grow into a man and not some nymph with the way his ears have that slender point. He watches them now, sitting together beneath a shady palm and stringing their bows in an uncanny unison and curses because he still cannot tell them apart. What use is his skill in knowing blood when they both have the same damn blood running through their veins? What bond is there to sense when they are tied so tightly together, Ares can scarcely tell brother from sister?

He sighs. Unadorned and completely alone, the only way to know who is who is to speak to them. He'll have to find more ways to tell them apart from a distance. Surely they cannot stay this similar all the rest of their immortal lives.