#unposted

[markscherz]

you’re super good at taking selfies congrats

and we haven't even scratched the surface

[kinardsevan]

wip Thursday

tagged by the effervescent @perfectlysunny02, and in the same vein as them, don't I have a million WIPs? Yes, yes I do. But also, I mentioned this idea last week. And... well... oops? (And it's entirely their fault because of the violence they chose with THEIR teaser today.)

Alas, I give you unnecessary, momentary, legendary (working title)

-

Tommy wasn’t supposed to be here. That’s all he could think about; he wasn’t supposed to be here. 

He’d had a full day of plans while Evan was on shift. He was supposed to stop by Harbor and pick up a package he’d had shipped there and forgot to bring home the night before. He was supposed to have lunch with Howie and Jee-Yun. He was supposed to swing by the 118 and swap keys with Evan because something was going on with the Rubicon’s engine. He was supposed to spend the afternoon figuring out if it was going to be an easy fix or not. Evan would be home before sunset. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

Except, Evan was back at work after being down with a nasty virus for the past few days, and the only thing that had really been helping him feel better was the honey citrus tea from their favorite café. It wasn’t even a drink that his boyfriend cared for that much, but Tommy had introduced it to him the first time he’d gotten sick a few months into their relationship, and it had been a game changer for him. It wasn’t a cure by any means, but it definitely helped. 

He wasn’t supposed to be here. 

“Natalie?” He croaks out her name, leaning half up off of the tile floor, hand pressed into his abdomen next to his hip. He can’t see her behind the glass casing that contains the pastries, and she hasn’t said anything in a few minutes. The higher he tries to sit himself up, the more pain shoots down his side. “Nat!?” 

It takes more than a few seconds, but eventually—too long—he hears the sound of what he assumes is broken glass shifting on the floor. A small whimper. 

“T-Tommy?” 

“Nat?” He calls back, turning his head towards the back of the counter again. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you?” 

She doesn’t respond, but then he sees the familiar flurry of jello-red hair appear from behind the pastry case, and then she’s climbing over the counter, her combat boots crunching glass on the floor as she moves towards him. Tommy looks up at her, his paramedic skills immediately kicking in as he takes her in. 

She’s got a cut on her forehead and her hands are bleeding—he assumes from all the broken glass. There’s a slash across her forearm where the knife got her, bleeding pretty decently. His eyes trail down to the side of her apron, the stain spreading across it and her jeans. She’s bleeding from somewhere on her leg. His gaze drifts to the counter and the streak of blood coming across it where she crawled over. 

“N-Nat, we gotta call the cops,” he tells her warily. 

“What if he comes back,” she asks anxiously, her voice shaking as tears come down her face. She sinks to the ground next to him, ignorant of the glass on the ground around him. 

Tommy shakes his head at her, digging into his pocket with blood-coated fingers, fumbling his phone when his fingers come into contact with it. He pulls it out as he looks back up at her. 

“You gave him everything, right,” he asks her. “Didn’t fight?” 

“No,” she sobs, leaning over him. “God, Tommy, I’m so sorry.” 

He shakes his head at her, reaching for one of the napkin holders knocked onto the floor nearby. 

“I’m just glad you’re okay,” he tells her. He keeps flashing hot and cold, and he can feel himself getting clammy. He tries to focus his attention on his phone, dialing the number into it. 

“Tommy, you’re bleeding,” she cries. 

“I’m fi-…fine,” he stammers, slumping back against the floor. “We’re fine.” 

“9-1-1, what’s your emergency?” 

“5943 Ventura Boulevard,” he rattles off. “This is off-duty Rescue 1701 out of Harbor Station, I need to be transferred to Maddie Buckley.” 

“Just a moment sir.” The line clicks off for all of ten seconds, and then clicks back on. 

“9-1-1, this is Maddie Buckley speaking,” her voice comes back. There’s just the slightest hitch of anxiety in her voice, like she knows being routed to personally isn’t normal. 

“Maddie,” he rasps, squeezing his eyes shut tightly, trying to get the tears out of them. 

“Tommy,” she replies, her voice suddenly flooded with panic. “What’s going on? Is Evan- a-are you- is Howie-…” 

“They’re fine,” he chokes out. “B-but, I need RA and police. S-Stabbing at the café.” 

His head drops back against the floor, and he can feel his vision getting fuzzy. He looks over at Natalie. She looks even more panicked than she did before. His gaze drifts down to where his other hand is. Blood is completely coated over his fingers. 

“N-Nat, I need you to use your apron to apply pressure,” he rasps. 

“Stabbing?! Tommy where are you,” Maddie cries from the other end of the line. Tommy rattles the address off to her again. 

“D-dont send Evan,” he rasps at her. “God, he can’t find me. You hear me, Maddie? Don’t send him. Do not let him see me like this.” 

She hiccups a cry on the other end of the line, and there are hushed voices clearly trying to get her off the line, but she speaks clearly enough that Tommy hears when she growls ‘no’ back at whoever is trying to get her to hand the call off. 

“You know I love him, right,” he continues. Natalie presses her apron into his side then and he can’t help the cry that falls out of his mouth. “F-fuck. M-Maddie?” 

“I know,” she cries. “Stay with me, Tommy. Don’t hang up on me.” 

He nods letting his head rest back against the floor. 

“No, come on, Tommy,” Natalie cries, pressing harder into his wounds. “Come on. Stay awake.” 

“Trying,” he murmurs, looking around the floor. “I-I, I want to marry him, you know,” he tells Maddie. “He just walked into my life like- like he was always supposed to be here. And I thought I’d lost out on my chance by taking too long to figure my shit out. Fuck, Nat. Yeah, that’s good, keep pushing down.” 

“He talks about you being it for him all the time,” Maddie replies. He can tell she’s crying. “Keeps telling me that he thinks you’ll be a great dad.” 

Tommy lets out a small laugh and then groans at the wave of pain that shoots across his abdomen and stomach. 

“I wasn’t sure, before him,” he replies, letting his eyes slip shut. The phone starts to sag in his hand, but the cry of Natalie’s voice and sudden, sharp pressure on his side has his eyes shooting open again. “Fuck, okay. Okay.” He swallows hard, taking a breath. “B-but if anyone could convince me that we could do it together, it’s him.” 

Maddie hiccups another sob. “I’ve watched him lose one relationship after another, think what he’s holding onto is the right one while knowing it isn’t. But I never said anything because I was just his sister, you know? And I know you said he walked into your life, but you spun into his with a literal hurricane and I’ve never seen him… I don’t even know, Tommy. This settled? Happy? Secure?” 

“H-he deserves it,” Tommy rasps, his head lolling back and eyes getting heavier. 

“Damn it, Tommy, come on,” Natalie cries. “Stay awake, please.” 

“s’getting harder,” Tommy slurs. “Maddie, I love him. So much more than I’ve ever loved anyone else. Want him more, dream about him more, choose him more. My life begins and ends at Evan Buckley.” The tears swimming in his eyes finally slip down the side of his face, his vision tight now, and extremely hazy. 

“Tommy, stay with me,” Maddie cries. Her voice seems farther away now. “The ambulance is so close. Please?” 

“Tell him I love him more than anything else,” he replies, coughing out another groan. “That I choose him. Every day, all the time. I pick him.” He pauses for a moment, his eyes too heavy to open back up. “I love you, Evan.” 

[lockscreenxd]

Unposted Versions of the last ones (x)

Reblog/Like if you use / save it

Please be honest

Do Not REPOST

[echoficationecho]

Unposted October

[movagea]

има нещо особено специално в това да бъдеш разбиран

дори през усилие. дори през баирчета. той пред теб да се усмихва тихо, да те поглежда, и очите му да крещят "ще го направя! ей къде е следващото баирче! не ме плаши, дребосъчесто е. така като гледам, колкото по-напред вървим, все по-малки стават... хайде, давай! разкажи ми..."

и на теб всъщност какво друго ти остава в този момент, освен да му разкажеш... всичко... или поне онази частица, която най-удобно ще се разположи на фотьойла, който успяхте дружно да придърпате помежду си. за да се дообзаведе целият хол, домът се нуждае от още малко търпеливо време. а когато и двамата вярвате, че дори и без интериорни дизайнери ще се случат нещата все някакси, даже досадният избор на формата на сифона в банята вече сякаш изглежда някак естествен и съжалявате, че сте му се мръщили. (ed. малко по-късно дори ще те изведе да избереш най-хубавите плочки за банята му, а още нищо не подозираш)

Топла притаена усмивка. докато календарът усърдно си върши календарестите задачки ден за ден и отмята поредния петък, постепенно до теб се приближава и бегло застава един Момент, с който трябва по-често да се срещаш. Моментът на изключване на вътрешния барометър и калибриране с ритъма отвън. с поклащането на клоните от вятъра, с шумоленето на листата из короните на липите

Simple life. Онзи, вглъбен в камината в къщата на село, който приютява вярата и обичта, а на очакванията любезно открехва вратата и им показва целия бял широк свят, да летят накъдето им видят очите, къщата и без това е малка. Побира само матрака върху дървената мансарда, мен, и притаената му усмивка.

-15.08.2023

[mercyillustrator]

Throwback Thursday (Unposted Artwork from January)

These are my drawings from January that I haven’t post these drawings cuz I forgot. Left side was Nonsurat with flowers, crystals and a halo before got her into pearls (her pearls are smt like an accessory) and right was a gijinka version without their mask/helmet before final look as KRBAY gijinka sketches at first I used to dislike how they look with the mask and helmet but as soon I got comfy to draw them with helmet and mask on human version I like.

- 💠🎨Mercy🎨💠 ;)

[satirickitty]

Everyone Hates Tim

Dick's eyes widened in shock, then horror as he took in the scene before him. Jason was on his knees on the floor, his clothes torn and his face swollen and bloodied. He was tying the missing section of his once pale grey t-shirt around a heavily bleeding wound in his thigh.

"Jason!" Dick hissed, "what the– is this your 'thing' about Tim again?!"

"For fucks sake," Jason said, sounding irritated, like he had just been caught stealing cookies and not found half bled out and surrounded by the bodies of Wayne Enterprises staff.

He heaved a sigh and wiped the blood that spilled from his lips with the back of his forearm.

"Do we need to fight while I try explain and you don't listen 'cause you're too busy judging me or could you, you know, save time and just let me go then report back to B that I escaped again?" Jason asked, sounding weirdly sincere and kind of tired actually. Huh, Dick filed that away to dissect later. He stood up straighter, looming over Jason and putting his hands on his hips. He absolutely, definitely did not file away the expression that flashed over Jason's face when he did so.

"No can do buckaroo, murder is always wrong," Dick said, then winced internally, wondering why when he opened his mouth occasionally someone from a corny sixties TV show popped out.

New sentences are in red

From my wip poll here

[birdgirl-22]

Heather

[federicagiordanophotography]

[lorwolf-salt]

what the fuck kind of wolverine ass healing factor do you have that it takes a week to heal a broken bone? i broke MY LITTLE TOE and it took nearly SIX WEEKS to heal, I cannot IMAGINE breaking an important extremity instead of a little balance nub. ya bones are connected to ya other bones by rubber bands made of flesh so if youre trying to move a finger it takes more than a little input from the rest of your arm my dude

[middlkid]

feeling tiny ? 💭

"awh, is my angel feeling tiny?" you nod shyly, looking at the ground instead of your cg. "c'mere baby, you can cuddle with me while we watch your favorite movie!" they pick you up and put you on the couch, where you spend the next hour happily watching a movie, cuddled up to your cg.

[seth-shitposts]

There's a completed NSFW piece sitting in our docs and the main reason why we haven't posted it yet is because we don't have a name for it-

[elisascheffler]

🫶🏼 Ph @stefanobidini #b&w #jadore #italiangirl #mediterraneanstyle #unposted https://www.instagram.com/p/Coem9z9omsh/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[meryemamato]

#unposted (presso Palermo, Italy) https://www.instagram.com/p/CnuX4QcsEtN/?igshid=NGJjMDIxMWI=

[muzikjellybean-skz979]

How many of us have a draft box FULL of high thoughts? 🤣

[satirickitty]

Trampire

"Someone please, my wife needs help!" Benny called frantically, Bela hanging limp in his arms.

"This is undignified," she muttered. Her arms were artfully draped to preserve her dignity in the slinky, designer dress she was wearing. She was ever ruining her expensive dresses and often chastising him for it, worth it though, he thought wolfishly, licking his lips.

The thugs guarding the door looked at each other in surprise for a moment before reacting on instinct and scrambling to catch Bela as she was flung towards them. 

Benny stayed put, content to watch as Bela smoothly flipped to her feet and knocked out both men before they had a chance to blink. You know what, he thought, smiling as she flung open the doors and marched in, literally guns blazing, maybe living forever won’t be so bad.

~~~~~~~

From my wips poll here new sentence is in red