#tw bombing mention

[mellometal]

(I'm going to edit this with added links to resources ASAP. I just don't have all of them saved at the moment. I'm sorry. [Update: I'm gonna just reblog this post with resources. I was trying to edit this post with resources, but the connection was wonky.])

I wanted to make sure I got everything I needed to say in a way that's easy for everyone to understand. I'm gonna be honest, I was genuinely unaware of what has been happening in the world until about a week ago or so due to things going on in my personal life that needed my immediate attention. I've also been struggling a lot, but that's not important right now. Because I was unaware of what was going on in the world currently, I did research to educate myself, watched a lot of videos about it, shared a ton of content about it, am currently in the process of reaching out to representatives all over the United States to get the President to call for a ceasefire, and I've been trying to start the conversation with people I know in real life.

Don't try to use what 1sra3l is doing to Palestine, Gaza, Congo, and Sudan as an excuse to be antisemitic or Islamophobic. Do not try to justify 1sra3l killing innocent people in any way, shape, or form. I don't tolerate people who stand for genocide. Nothing justifies killing innocent people. Tigray, Puerto Rico, Hawai'i, Ukraine, and Northern Ireland are some more oppressed nations, to give some more examples.

Many of the people in Palestine and Gaza have had their homes, schools, hospitals, businesses, and so on destroyed due to 1sra3l bombing them. They're watching their own people die. They're digging through slabs of broken concrete to find their missing loved ones. They're putting the dismembered body parts of their loved ones in bags. They don't have clean drinking water. They don't have electricity. They're getting WORMS from having to drink water that's not suitable for consumption. Food is scarce and very expensive. People are dying from starvation, not having clean drinking water, and the inability to access adequate medical care due to extremely limited resources. Doctors are having to perform life-saving procedures without any type of sanitation, anesthesia, or any type of pain relief to give to the injured. They're performing procedures on the hospital floor and in the streets. They're now having to choose who's worth saving, watch victims die, and then move on to the next. The animals that are still alive are having to resort to eating blown off body parts of DEAD PEOPLE. This is just SOME of the things these people are going through.

There's also war going on in Congo and Sudan. Tigray is still suffering from the genocide on their people, even after the peace agreement in 2022 between Ethiopia and Tigray. Big tech companies are enslaving children in Congo by forcing them to mine for coltan. Millions of Congolese people are being killed. Many Tigrayans are still displaced from their homes, parts of Tigray are still being held captive, and school hasn't started for many children there because so many people are having to resort to living in school buildings or in tents. This is all just the tip of the iceberg and from what I found doing some quick research.

To top that off, President Biden is refusing to ceasefire on Palestine and Gaza. HE'S SENDING MORE MONEY TO 1SRA3L INSTEAD. 1SRA3L, UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW, SHOULDN'T EVEN BE DOING WHAT THEY'RE DOING. THEY'VE BROKEN SO MANY LAWS UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW. THE AMOUNT OF LAWS THEY'VE BROKEN UNDER INTERNATIONAL LAW IS ACTUALLY SCARY. MULTIPLE PEOPLE IN CONGRESS HAVE BEEN TRYING TO SILENCE ANYONE (specifically they have been trying to silence Rashida Tlaib, the only Palestinian-American in Congress) SPEAKING OUT ABOUT THE WAR CRIMES BEING COMMITTED AND FUNDED WITH AMERICAN TAX DOLLARS. Oh, but Biden had all the time in the world recently to visit grieving families here in the United States who have lost loved ones due to the rampant gun problem in this country that STILL isn't being fixed. That's nice. /s By the way, I'm not criticizing him for visiting grieving families. I'm criticizing Biden for funding the genocide of innocent people instead of putting a stop to it. The civilians in Palestine and Gaza didn't do anything to deserve what they're going through right now. That goes for all oppressed nations.

We might end up in World War III, and that's gonna be a HUGE problem for the United States if we get involved instead of staying out of it. We don't have enough troops for when and IF WW3 happens. I'm not kidding. When NORTH KOREA is saying that what Biden’s doing is fucked up, you KNOW that it's bad. I don't want World War III to be a reality. I don't want that to happen. I want to say that WW3 will never happen, BUT I CAN'T. History WILL keep repeating itself.

As far as boycotts go, the list of brands that have ties to 1sra3l is overwhelmingly long and the brands that have no ties to 1sra3l and support Palestine are small in comparison. However, the big three to focus on boycotting are McDonald's, Starbucks, and Disney. They're the companies who contribute the most money to horrific shit like what I mentioned here.

I keep seeing many people leaving disabled people out of the conversation and it's irritating because disabled people exist all across the globe. For disabled people, boycotting many of these things that I haven't even listed here may be more difficult, if not impossible, for them to do for a variety of reasons (mainly medical). Obviously I'm speaking in a general sense. It all depends on the person. Reason why I'm bringing this up is because I saw a few medication brands on the boycott list. I've seen people say to just get the generic brand of their medications, but that might not be an available option for them, depending on their insurance.

I don't eat at McDonald's much anymore (actually haven't eaten there much if at all for years), I don't have a Disney+ subscription, and I rarely get Starbucks anyway...so it's personally not a huge loss. There are better things to watch. There are better places to eat at that are more Pescatarian friendly. There are also better places to get myself a blended coffee made with almond milk and extra fixings if I'm feeling fancy. I know there are people in food deserts, in financial strain, and have accessibility issues. I'm not talking about them.

When and if you can, shop and eat out locally. I'm sure they'd love the business! It also helps boost your town's local economy! If this isn't a viable option for you due to financial difficulties and/or accessibility issues, do what you gotta do that's the most sustainable for you, your family, your animals, and whatnot. Meaning if the only grocery store you have in your area is Walmart or it's the only place that's affordable, you're not evil for getting your groceries there. Because we're all struggling right now, myself included. Also, for anyone that's going to suggest a dollar store or a food bank, not everyone has a dollar store or food bank in their area, or has easy access to either of those things. The one thing I will say is do your best to be mindful of the things you buy.

For all my fellow American followers, Canadian followers, followers in the UK, and Australian followers, call and email your representatives and demand a ceasefire if you haven't already. This is especially for my fellow American followers. Call and email President Biden and Vice President Harris. CALL THE WHITE HOUSE. If you're going to a protest, be safe, be respectful, cover up anything identifiable on you, try to go in a group if you can, and all that good stuff. Sign petitions! Donate if you can.

There's so much shit going on, and I think I've discussed enough of it here. It's gotten way too long. Sorry if I missed anything. I wanted to at least cover the big stuff.

[one-time-i-dreamt]

My town got nuked and they still made us go to school, and when we tried to leave, they just fucking shot us.

[kerosene-saint]

THEY REFERENCE THE OKC BOMBING IN THE WE DIDN'T START THE FIRE COVER????

[coffeelovinggayidiot]

Listen, y'all outside of the Israel/Palestine situation can have whatever opinions you have, but as someone who woke up at 7am by the sounds of sirens and who has friends and family living in the danger zone, I honestly don't give a shit, and no other israel or palestinian gives a shit either over what some dumb fuck on the internet who's never experienced war or even been in a bomb shelter has to say. I pray that my palestinian friends are safe, and that they will suffer as little as possible. People on both sides are DYING. You can have your bullshit, experienceless opinion all you want, but fact is people here are suffering, and you, person getting angry and writing shitty tumblr posts, are not.

Go to hell, people are dying and you making anti-semetic/anti-palestinian post is helping no one but your pathetic ego

Edit: there's were just attacks where I live (which is considered safe) and I'm gonna be completely honest, I'm terrified, for both sides. PLEASE if you're in Palestine/Israel dm/reblog/comment to let me know your ok. We need to support each other through this. This is going to cause us all so much trauma, and we need to hold each other's hands.

[the-broken-pen]

Hey hey

Could you perhaps write a snippet where the building hero is in, gets bombed? Its bombed as an assassination attempt to get them, however the people in that building die and hero, succumbed to their injuries couldn't save everyone of them. At last they watched the last ambulance left without them, even as they called for help

Villians villa is just few kilometres away

Thankfu hero's legs aren't broken

They begin walking

The problem? Vil is way to composed and prim and perfect to let all of hero's blood get on their expensive carpets and fabrics. They could even be mad at the hero for reddening their porch if they hero stood their asking for bandages. What now? And the fight the two had yesterday that ended with "never see me again" and "don't ever talk to me"s.....vil was stopping hero from attending the event the building....

Will vil help them? They can just ask for bandages and leave.

What hero doesn't know: vil would literally destroy the world for hero, and there's no way in hell are they leaving hero on their doorstep.

(Anon you were cooking with this ask, thank you!)

The hero realized the building was going to explode a split second before it did, which wasn’t enough time to do anything other than brace.

They tensed, and there was a horrible screeching of metal and brick, followed by a deafening silence that covered them more completely than the rubble did.

The hero coughed once, weakly, pain rocketing through their chest, and shoved a piece of concrete off themself.

From somewhere else in the building, a soft, terrified wail began, broken around desperate sobs.

The hero coughed again, hand rising to their ribs. They didn’t have the energy to be surprised when their fingers came back coated in blood and dust. They grimaced at it, struggling to their feet–

And oh, god. That hurt.

The hero had a surgery once, the kind that resulted in bandages and a care regime and a set of stitches, and when they had woken up in the recovery unit, it had felt sort of like this. A moment of loopy half-awareness, and then a pain that had knocked the breath out of them, hands clenching into the sheets as a nurse tried to figure out if they needed more medication. 

This was worse. Their vision swam, and they blinked it back with a hiss.

Because someone, somewhere in the wreckage, was crying. And if one person was crying, it meant there was someone who survived. Which meant it was likely there were other survivors–ones too hurt to make any noise, ones knocked unconscious, ones still too shocked to do anything other than lay there–and it was the hero’s job to find them.

It took them far too long to locate the source of the crying. Longer to dig them out, vision going white as the person slammed into the hero’s chest in some facsimile of a terrified hug.

“You’re okay,” they managed, voice like gravel. “It’s okay. I’m going to get you out, and you’re going to be just fine. Were you with anyone?”

And then again, and again, and again.

The hero panted, hands on their knees as their body fought them in an attempt to just collapse onto the concrete below. They just–they just needed a minute. Just one, maybe, and then they could–

This time, the hero wasn’t even aware of it before it happened.

The remains of the building shook, then disintegrated into itself in a plume of dust and rock. The hero shielded their eyes with one hand, blinking against the onslaught.

What little air they had managed to get stuttered out of their lungs in something close to a sob. They had done this enough times to know there wasn’t anyone in that building left alive. 

They sagged down against the nearest thing–more rubble, maybe? They didn’t know–and this time when they rested a hand on their side, there was a considerably larger amount of blood.

“That’s…not great,” they said, and their fingers blurred in front of them slightly. There was an ambulance right there. Just a couple feet away. They had already helped most of the survivors, so maybe it would be okay for the hero to–

A paramedic rounded the back of the ambulance, and the hero lifted a hand, reaching–

“Please, wait, I think–I think,” it hurt coming out of their mouth, “help. Please I need��” they trailed off as the paramedic took the step up into the ambulance.

And closed the door behind them.

The hero wasn’t even that surprised when the ambulance began to drive away.

“Help,” they finished weakly, then sucked a breath in through their nose.

They were supposed to be good at this kind of thing. Surviving, no, thriving in catastrophe. A pillar of light. The one with the plan. 

The kind of being that didn’t beg for help on the ground.

The hero wasn’t entirely sure how they managed to get themselves back to standing. It was as easy as that–one moment they were on the ground, gravel embedded in their knees, and the next they were up and shaking but they were up.

“If I stay here, I’ll die,” they murmured. They had hoped maybe the threat would keep their legs from buckling again. It didn’t.

They weren’t near any place that could be trusted. There wasn’t a safe clinic for heroes on this side of the city, and even if there was, the hero wouldn’t trust them. Couldn’t afford to.

But as for near…the hero swallowed the nausea as it rose in their throat. There was one place they could go. One person they could go to.

Four miles. They could do four. There was no other option.

Where the hero had had some blurry recollection, or at least, a good guess of how they got to standing, they had absolutely no clue how they made it onto the villain’s porch. They managed a blink, retching slightly as they stared at the villain’s wavering door, then had to freeze just to bite down the pain that had come from the gagging.

They tried to knock and ended up collapsing against the villain’s door, knees giving out entirely as their fingers scrabbled for purchase and left behind smeared bloody marks on the wood.

They weren’t entirely sure how that happened either, or how long it took the villain to answer the door. Just that it hurt—so, so much, it hurt so–and that they managed to shove themself back into some semblance of standing right before the villain pulled the door open.

The villain’s face did a sort of spasming thing as soon as they saw the hero, jaw dropping slightly in what the hero could only really read as shock.

There was a very considerable amount of blood on the door. They were cold.

“I–” the hero tried, but they weren’t really sure where they had been going with that sentence, and after yesterday and the screaming and the fight the villain probably didn’t want to see them at all, didn’t want to ever see their face again, so–their mind blanked. “I got blood on your door.”

They tried to gesture towards it, but that hurt, so their hand simply twitched slightly from where it hung by their side.

They glanced down at their feet, because they didn’t want to see what the villain’s face was doing, especially if what it was doing was anything resembling anger.

“Oh.” There was blood at the hero’s feet. “And on your porch, too, I guess.”

They looked up at the villain, but they were still staring at them, brow furrowed, hand clenching on the doorframe.

“I’m sorry.”

There was a very faint quiver of tears when they said it, and the hero knew better than to hope the villain didn’t catch it. 

Were they saying sorry for the porch or the door or yesterday–

“Holy shit,” the villain finally breathed, and it sounded like it had been punched out of them. The hero froze, panic rising in their chest.

“I’m sorry,” the hero blurted out, stammering. “I’m–I’m so sorry, I’ll go, just–could I maybe have some bandages? Just–just one, maybe, please? I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” they said uselessly, head swimming. They couldn’t even remember what they were doing here. The villain was perfect in every sense of the word, stoic and proper and collected in a way the hero would never be; a marble statue brought to life. The idea of them letting the hero–the personification of a train wreck in motion–in to bleed all over the villain’s soft carpet and nice shoes and cause irreparable damage to their very expensive house was almost laughable. 

If they had had the breath to laugh.

More of the hero’s blood dripped onto the slats of the porch, and they stepped back. “I’m sorry–”

The villain reached for them, and the hero flinched, taking it for the dismissal it was–

The hero blinked, and it stuck for a moment too long as the world tilted, and when they pried their eyes open again the villain was staring at them with something the hero was too out of it with pain and possibly delirium to identify. Their gaze drifted back to the blood smeared on the door, and the villain’s grip tightened on the hero’s bicep–when had they grabbed the hero’s bicep?–until the hero’s gaze returned to theirs.

The villain said something, but there was a roaring that had started up in the hero’s ears. They seemed to take the uncomprehending blink the hero gave them in return for an answer anyways, and guided them down until they were both sitting on the cool wood. A tug, and the hero was resting against their own propped up knees, villain’s hand still firm on their arm.

“How much blood did you lose?”

It was like screaming underwater, the hero reasoned. Or through a mirror. But they heard it nonetheless, and that was their villain, and even in hatred and war they would always answer them.

“Was ‘supposed to be counting?” If they had any more energy–or maybe slightly more blood–in their body, the slur to their own words would have been concerning.

The villain’s lips pursed into a thin line, and the hero felt them begin to run an assessing hand over their injuries, cataloguing them, brow furrowing further with every second.

“M’sorry,” they managed, tongue thick. The villain didn’t pause.

“For what?”

“Bleeding on your door,” they managed. The villain stopped them from raising their head from their knees. “And your–porch.”

“I don’t give a shit about either of those things,” the villain said, simply, easily. Like it was nothing. Like they didn’t feel the weight of it as they threw it into the air.

The villain sat back on their heels, clearly having learned what they wanted from the hero’s injuries.

When the hero didn’t immediately look at them, the villain grabbed their chin, gently turning it until the hero faced them.

“How far did you walk,” they said slowly, and the hero had never been more grateful for anything in their life.

“Four miles,” the hero said, and they couldn’t hear their own voice above the roaring, but the villain obviously could from the way their eyes darkened.

The hero wanted no part in making the villain angry again–I never want to see you again, do you hear me? If you ever try to talk to me again I will kill the both of us, I promise you that–, but when they attempted to push themselves up to leave, the only thing they managed was a piteous whine and a stab of pain so intense they forgot to breathe.

“Idiot,” the villain hissed. But oddly, the hero didn’t sense any anger coming from the villain.

They blinked–too long, again–and found themselves in the villain’s arms as they walked through the house. Their head lolled back onto the villain’s shoulder, and the villain glanced down as if–to make sure the hero was okay. That they were conscious, and breathing.

Oh.

Oh.

The villain wasn’t angry.

They were afraid. For the hero.

Which didn’t make any sense, because–

I never want to see you again–

“You’re mad at me,” the hero reasoned, and it came out half strangled and petulant. The villain looked down at them, and the hero caught the tiniest flinch in their jaw.

“I’m not mad at you.”

“That’s not what you said yesterday,” the hero whispered, and the villain flinched.

“I wanted to stop this from happening.” The villain settled them onto a bathroom counter, lights flickering on as the hero leaned back against the mirror. Blood began to dry, sticky, between their fingers.

The hero’s mouth went dry, and it caught in their throat when they tried to swallow it.

“You could have just left me there.” Their voice only shook a little bit, but the villain’s head still snapped up from where they had been digging through a drawer.

“What?”

“On the porch,” the hero clarified, clearing their throat. The lump didn’t go away, and they had begun shaking at some point, and they couldn’t stop. “If you didn’t want to deal with me you could have just left me there–”

The villain’s face had darkened into something the hero almost didn’t recognize. 

“I would burn the world for you, and you think I would leave you to die on my porch?”

“You said you didn’t want this to happen.”

“No, that’s not–” the villain rubbed a hand over their brow, and the hero winced at the blood it left behind. “No. No, that’s not what I meant. I was trying to keep you from going to that stupid event and getting hurt. I knew it was going to blow.”

“I would have gone anyway.”

The villain stilled. “I thought maybe if you never wanted to see me again, and you knew I was there…”

“I would,” the hero repeated. “Have gone anyway.”

The hero watched as the villain’s face rippled through a dozen emotions, settling onto something unidentifiable.

“Why?”

“Because you were there,” the hero said easily, shrugging one shoulder. Because when it came to the villain, it really was that easy. They could scream, and shout, and hold a knife to the hero’s throat, and the hero would still follow them into hell. That was their villain.

The villain looked like the hero had stabbed them, face draining of color. Their fingers went white around the edge of the counter, as if it was the only thing keeping them upright.

“What,” the villain’s voice was hoarse.

“I went because I was hoping you would be there,” the hero said honestly

“Stop,” the villain raised a hand between them, a shield, voice breaking. They sucked in a breath, then another, like they were trying to keep themself from breaking down onto the tile.

“You would have gone to the event no matter what, just to see me,” the villain said slowly, and the hero nodded

“Yes.”

“Even though I screamed at you?”

“Yes.”

“And told you I hated you.”

“Villain, please–”

“Now you know,” the villain interrupted, voice incredibly soft. “Why I would have never left you on that porch.”

The hero forgot to breathe for a moment, tongue going numb in their mouth. The villain couldn’t mean–

They blinked for a moment too long, and then the villain was standing between the hero’s knees, hand on their chest.

“You love me,” the hero said a moment later.

“Ruinously,” the villain agreed.

“So you–”

“I was trying to save your life,” the villain’s hands were gentle as they began to patch up the hero’s side. “And now I’m saving your life in a new and unanticipated way. But there is nothing you could ever do to stop me from saving your life.”

The hero’s heart clenched. 

“Really?”

The villain caught their chin, eyes boring into the hero’s. They brushed a piece of hair off the side of the hero’s face.

“Really.”

The hero sighed, and the villain caught them as they slumped.

“I thought you hated me,” the hero said, and they hated how raw they sounded. The villain made a choked little noise.

“I’m so sorry.”

The hero sniffed.

“Don’t do it again.”

The villain simply hummed, and smoothed the ends of a bandage down against the hero’s abdomen. The hero could feel their hands shaking.

You scared me.

A second later, their hands settled on either side of the hero’s head, and the villain rested their face into the hero’s hair. They pressed a kiss to the hero’s temple, tension easing from their shoulders.

I’m sorry.

The hero clutched the front of the villain’s shirt between their hands, drawing them closer. The villain went willingly, loose limbed with affection and the rapid draining of terror from their system.

“I would have never left you on that porch.”

The hero had never believed anyone more.

[poisonousquinzel]

they deserved better idc 😐

[strawberri-bomb-bomb]

I can't wait to shoot myself

[lust-for-ultraviolence]

I decided to be evil and make it to where you can only pick one.

[larvabyte]

my bf and i sometimes talk about a crack au where cyrus has court mandated therapy and spends his days playing truck simulator

[snowe-zolynn-rogers]

Okay so y’all know how I talk about the Main Universe just adopting random evil family members from other universes and helping them redeem themselves?

What if the evil dimensions all just decided mutually to become a family and meanwhile all their Evil Plans™️ don’t work together and then they just have that one sweet one in the family they adopted from another dimension and are sheltering from their crimes.

Like one day, Feral Moon is trying to bite a kid’s head off, Evil Sun is trying to kidnap someone from another dimension again, Evil Lunar is trying to blow up an orphanage, Evil KC is working on a way to bomb the daycare for the tenth time. And then, meanwhile, they just have sweet little bean Blood Moon in the corner asking Lord Eclipse for uppies (and of course he caves).

[zerothisnero]

Back to this Fanbase for a bit hi guys 👋

Anyways Random Bridgekids oc Redo because I felt like she needed one

Tw: Mentions/depiction of bombs ig 🤷

[colorfulpaintfiles]

↳ 💥 GENDEREXPLOSIC .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰ঌ Associated with explosions, b0mbs and possibly even fire, those who use this may also feel like their identity is always exploding and bursting ໒꒱

➜ alt(s) !! :

➜ 「 optional 」prns !! :

explo/explos/explode/explodeself .ᐟ.ᐟ boom/booms/boom/boomself .ᐟ.ᐟ 💥/💥s/💥/💥self .ᐟ.ᐟ

꒰ঌ coined by colorfulpaintfiles (me) .ᐟ

id : z Z 𐰁 .ᐟ

"DNI IF U ARE:

pro-ship/com-ship/dark-ship, incest (fontcest, dreammare, swadmare, etc), pro/neu/com lolita/shota, endo "sys", "good faith" labels (bi -lesbians, pan lesbian, etc),pro/neu/com endo, pro/neu/com para, nsfw/18+ blogs, racist, homophobes, transphobes, anti-lgbtq+ in general, politics, dream smp, south park, hazbin hotel/helluva boss/viziepop supporter/watcher.

THIS IS NOT A SAFE SPACE FOR THESE TOPICS/PEOPLE AND NEVER WILL BE !! /SRS"

[one-time-i-dreamt]

I was in my house carrying a watermelon and it had plastic and wire stuck in it and I knew there was a bomb inside so I woke myself up before it exploded.

[lore-gore]

Hazbin Hotel cast as text messages feat my oc Lore Part 8

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, Part 4, Part 5, Part 6, Part 7

[earthry]

Hi, I saw requests were open and I wanted to know if you could do a comfort Drabble. Today at my Uni there was a bomb threat, and I know it’s a very sensitive topic but if it’s ok could I have some Copia comfort? Im just not having a good day

I'm so sorry you had to experience that-- and I'm very glad you're okay! My college has had bomb / shooter threats before too, so I definitely know how terrifying it is. Sending love and hugs and good vibes. It's not very long but I hope this still helps.

fluff, hurt/comfort, sfw

Copia hugs you as soon as you open the door, your feet barely even making it past the threshold before you're bundled up in his arms. You can feel his chest pressed up against yours, rising and falling in tandem with soft breathes as he takes you in. Safe and unharmed, secure in his arms and at home.

You feel him begin to pull back, an apology forming on his painted lips, but your squeeze back stops him. You tighten your arms around him and cling, and your tremors make themselves known.

"Tesoro, you're okay... everything's okay." His voice is a low murmur, a warm thing as he guides the two of you over to the couch in the living room. He sits and before you can whine, pulls you with him.

You wordlessly curl in his lap around him as he continues to reassure you. A soft sob breaks loose from your chest, the relief and fear overwhelming.

You can cry it out as much as you need, or if you can't cry that's okay-- regardless, Copia will hold you for as long as you want, as long as you need. When you're ready to face the world again, he'll take you by the hand and give it a gentle squeeze and lead you to the kitchen.

He'll make your favorite comfort food and make sure you're hydrated especially if you've cried. When you're fed and well, he'll lead you to the bedroom for more cuddles. He's already called out for tomorrow, so you can take as much time as you need in his arms. He's here for you, he loves you dearly. He'll be sure to remind you of this, over and over until you feel okay again. And then he'll continue reminding you after that as well, never too tired to do so.

[navysealt4t]

first official day of napowrimo!!! april 1st prompt is: poem that recounts the plot of a novel you haven't read in a while. (warning for themes of war, bombing, & past abuse)

overnight in a bomb shelter

if the world ends this week  please brush my hair  i won’t ask you to be gentle  let me walk barefoot  farther away than the eye can see  in weather cold or warm  i may bite you  sting and curse you  don’t come too close  feed me and bathe me  that’s all i ask   but bombs scream overhead  planes shriek with their engines  sirens blare from the streets  in a murky shelter  buried beneath the mud  of your childhood home  your calloused hands are soft  dropping a blanket ‘round my shoulders  reading a book in the dark  my ears ring and my hands shake  you shield me with your palms  you promise to teach me to sew  to read and write  to run and climb  in moments in the dark  where the world might end  where all i smell is mold  you treat me like a child  who has never known love  i treat you like a woman  who has never known love  and for a moment  the world feels right  as the bombs scream overhead  ‘cause the world might end tonight