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Im Cryign - Blog Posts
If you have any love for Code Geass, even if you don't read fanfiction, read this.
Hey, Clark! Your nerdy goth husband GMO’d some flowers for you. Happy birthday, sunshine!! 😊❤️☀️❤️☀️❤️
SOBBING (not my art)
I literally don't know what possessed me to make an 11 page comic over these sad old men! bon appetit <3
who tryna get me like i get you 😞
“My baby, here on earth, showed me what my heart is worth.”
I am s o b b i n g IF ANY FUTURE PARTNER OF ISNT INTO ME LIKE FUKIN- ODYSSEUS OR PENELOPE I DONT WANT IT
I CANT BELIEVE ITS ACTUALLY OVER- THIS MUSICAL MAN, GOT ME RIGHT IN THE FEELS
ODYSSEUS BEING A GOOD DAD, THE SLAUGHTER, THE LAST FUCKING HARMONIZED LINE
GODS
most of my recentish renga doodles :(
sobbinh
ngl the only reason i dont block the silly bots that follow me is because it makes me feel popular
Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen to me. Listen to me.
I know there is a lot of discourse (tm) around this right now but listen to me
sometimes you do just have to lie to children.
“You’re too afraid to throw a punch, but you’ve always been able to take one. And you always get back up again.”
I KNOW THE EXACT WORDING IS PROBABLY WRONG BUT Y’ALL THIS SCENE HAD ME SOBBING IN THE THEATER-
i just remembered that brian moser and rita are DEAD and are NEVER coming back EVER.
i need a moment
hey gang just finished season 6 of ds9! what the fuck!
Simon Riley is the most self-sacrificing, loyal, and devoted person there is.
He shouldn’t be. The world didn’t owe him shit.
But it was in his nature.
Ever since he was old enough to talk, he’d protect his own. He’d hold Tommy back from arguing with his dad, knowing it would only result in black eyes and tears. He’d watch mournfully from the staircase as his mother took the fall.
He’d be there after, not long after drunken snores sounded from the couch. Simon would have tissues held in his hand, offering it to his crying mother along with a kiss and hug.
“I’m sorry.” He’d apologize, knowing it wasn’t his fault his mother had slap marks on her face, or blood on her lip. He was only sorry he wasn’t strong enough to fight him.
After a couple years, Tommy fell into similar habits, picking up the liquor and any drug he could lay his hands on.
Simon once again took the blunt of the fall. His caring heart breaking at his brother’s anger and decreasing health. He’d throw away the bottles he could find, flushing any pills down the toilet.
He was caught once, arms at his side as his brother screamed at him, shoving him down to the ground. Simon only took the fall, knowing he wouldn’t hurt his brother, not when he knew this wasn’t truly him.
He’d even stick up for Tommy in school, taking on the fights his brother picked up over drug prices. He’d take every punch to the gut, every kick, every blow to the face— one hit so hard he lost his front tooth in a spat of blood.
His mother didn’t have the money to fix it. He told her not to worry, he’d get his own job.
Simon, at the fresh age of 16, received his first job working as a butcher apprentice. He’d stay up late hours working overtime, sometimes even sleeping in the back against the cold meat freezer.
He found it to be a relief to butcher something, imaging it often to be his father’s face, despite his sharp blade only sinking into bloody chunks of meat. Often times he’d take the leftover scraps home to his mother, just so she could have something to eat that night.
He’d never spent any money on himself, until it came to the time to get that tooth fixed, despite the earful his father gave him for not scraping enough change for “rent.” 
He worked hard for two years, hardly sleeping, taking care of others. His hands were now covered in shallow scars, his muscles evening out as he grew to his full height. He was strong, he was tall, but his maturity stayed the same. Simon was an adult for his whole life.
He was at the shop when the news broadcasted, displaying the two burning towers in New York City. He watched the gruesome videos, seeing the terror and fear.
He was filling out his paperwork the next day, going to basic training the next week.
He would never forgive himself afterwards, for leaving behind a grieving mother and angry brother.
When he returned, now a man of potential, all in his freshly pressed uniform, his mother had wept. Proud tears in her eyes as she held onto her pride and joy. Simon had willingly embraced her, nearly squeezing her to death.
“Missed ya, Mum.” He’d sigh, eyes squeezing shut.
He’d ask about his brother, half-knowing it would still be the same since he left. But now, Simon was bigger, he knew how to fight, how to expect the worst. Hell, his sergeants screamed more than his father or brother ever did.
So Simon once again left for his brother, this time throwing away all the drugs and alcohol and watching him like a hawk.
Tommy had never been so angry, falling backwards and into the withdrawling stage. That was the worst of it.
Simon was once again selfless after a trip to the grocery store, buying his mom groceries for the week. A pretty cashier had left her number on the receipt, but instead Simon had introduced her to his brother instead.
They had hit it off, now going on their third date. Simon had never been more grateful for Beth, despite the nagging in the back of his mind that thought, “what if I wanted to date? What if I wanted to be happy?”
But, he’d always put his brother first.
It’s why he found himself smiling beside an alter, putting his whole life on pause to watch his brother dressed in black shed tears as his very pregnant fiancé walked down the aisle.
She gave a cute little wave to Simon, before happily taking Tommy’s hand to exchange vows.
Simon fought hard on his way to the SAS, watching brothers die and serving many tours. He always worried in the back of his mind that he’d become too much like his father. A cold hearted killer, someone who took love and crumbled it in a fist.
He thought he deserved to be punished, the cold meat hook impaled in between his ribs. The bruises, the cuts, the sexual assaults he was too weak to fight off. He deserved it all.
He was a shell, but at least his family was safe. At least he could justify his need to protect his family. He’d take a million torturous acts to protect his sweet mum, or his brother, his sister in law. Their sweet bundle of joy Joseph.
Roba had cackled about killing his family, how he’d destroy them. It’s why the jawbone was clenched between Simon’s fist, dirt filling his lungs as he dug out of the casket. He had to get home. His purpose of being alive, was in danger.
He was a selfless bastard, but he’d never wanted to be so selfish after seeing the blood on the floor. To not feel the horrid pain or hear the hollowed screams his body released involuntarily.
Roba had ripped out Simon’s heart and crushed it to powder. Took his mum, his family, his home.
Simon Riley was a Ghost.
He’d visit their graves every year, speaking of his life and how he missed them.
He’d tell them of his task force, how Man United had won another game. He’d sink to his feet in front of little Joseph’s gravestone, setting a toy plane against the moss.
He found tears were easy to fall.
“You’ll catch a cold out here, Simon.”
An angelic voice had called out to him, a warm hand anchoring him to the gravitational pull that was you.
You knew little of his life, of his service. But you knew him, and the brute cursed himself every day for letting such an innocent and beautiful creature get close to his tainted flesh.
You somehow wormed your way into his heart, healing and patching the tears and allowing himself to be selfish just this once.
He loved you.
And maybe, just maybe he could find himself being a person once again. Tying his soul to you and holding you against his chest like the precious gem you were.
“I’m coming, love. Just had to say goodbye.”
He could be selfish. Just this once, right?
He took your hand.
pov: you're attending the worst work-issued birthday party out of all your years of employment but you realize your intern might be having an even worse time than you
AGHHH MY STORAGDEEENDNSNSBDJJSNXNSN
WHAT IS THAT?????? 175???????? *cries in 32gb phone* *cries in potat phon* JDJENSIDJSISJEN