it brought such tear

“A New Friend..”

Madara had become a taboo to mention in the clan…

Umiko smiled up at Amari for answering her previous question. The man that had raised her for four years of her life, the man she never seen much around the house but h knew he was there, the very man that left her that fateful night; was non other than the great leader himself. Only two years since being taken in by Kagami, she finally knew his name. Finally knowing who he was. It brought the 6 year old to tears. 

She looked up at Amari with that sad smile. “Everything. From who he was, to how he manage to be leader and…” Her voice barely audible since she was trying to contain herself from being a blubbering mess. “.. Well everything. I want to know more about him. Unfortunately I do not know my mother, though it too was rumored to be an Uzumaki. That’s why the clan  doesn’t see as an equal. But as an illegitimate child.” Umiko knew that much information from listening to the maids and other clansmen that talked about it. The revelation hit her hard and she started to cry harder and hug the other for comfort.

vallyka  asked:

no need to answer if you're busy, but js your plot is so well-written it's astounding omg it's INSANE how good it is wtheck

✧ ░ .·° OH MY GOODNESS ? you’re too kind ( ! ), too sweet ( ! ), too lovely ( ! ) for me & this world on the whole ! —— i was honestly not very confident in the way i wrote the plot since it was so short & B L E H ? but your kind words have restored my confidence & brought me to tears tbh. thank you so much for sending this in, pumpkin :’) you’ve absolutely made my day

anonymous asked:

Keep writing, darling! Congrats on 20 followers! I know you can get even more popular with time and practice! I can't wait to read what other stories you come up with! 😁❤️

OMG!! Thank you so much!! 😘😘😘 this actually brought me to tears!!

The first thing that hit Nadia was an odor so rancid it nearly brought tears to her eyes and actually caused her to gag. 

Laid there half-buried in the ground was a netted bag full of rotten human meat that had been left in the sun for days. ‘Well, shit. Some Super Mutant forgot it’s lunch.’ Breathing through her mouth, she poked the abandoned gore bag with the end of her rifle and contemplated on whether or not she should check to see if there were any caps stored inside. 

“There were a lot of things the Cushenberry’s (Cushenberries) hated doing as a family unit. But the one thing they hated the most, the thing that brought the youngest members to tears and sent the older members into uncontrollable fits of rage. Was watching Edward unsuccessfully do the ‘moonwalk’ night after night after soul-crushing, disappointing night.”

scarlet-blues:

The pair of tired icy blue eyes were still focused on the bandages. He clenched his fists lightly- bad memories were coming back. All the moments in which Omega Zero using his body to attack others, and even dared to show it all to him while he could do nothing but cry and struggle.

His eyes began tearing up, and a hand was brought up to his chin. “I’m s…sorry..y…” It came out almost like a whimper. “I did…so many b…bad things…i’m sor…ry…” Everything hit him all at once. Sure,Omega Zero was the once in control, but it was his body. Besides, if Bruce had tried to resist more, there would be less damage. He was too weak to do anything.

“I’m really sorry…for c..causing so many p-problems…”

[ @scarlet-blues ] [ continued from here ]

“Ah–” Laika looked panicked. He wasn’t expecting that wave to hit so soon. He reigned in the hand that shot up to try and touch Bruce. He wasn’t sure if touching was okay.

“Bruce, please, try to stay calm.” Laika sounded pained. He hated seeing others like this. “No one is blaming you.”

He wasn’t even sure if he was saying the right words. Being the counselor was not Laika’s department. But he had to try, because he was partially at fault for allowing Omega Zero to reign for so long.

“You’re father is fine. Enzan, he’s… fine.” Laika actually wasn’t sure, but he had to be convincing. “Don’t stress over what’s happened, it’ll only make healing harder.”

Take one pint of water, add a half pound of sugar, the juice of eight lemons, the zest of half a lemon. Pour the water from one jug then into the other several times. Strain through a clean napkin.

Grandmother, the alchemist, you spun gold out of this hard life, conjured beauty from the things left behind. Found healing where it did not live. Discovered the antidote in your own kit. Broke the curse with your own two hands. You passed these instructions down to your daughter who then passed it down to her daughter.

I had my ups and downs, but I always find the inner strength to pull myself up. I was served lemons, but I made lemonade. My grandma said “Nothing real can be threatened.” True love brought salvation back into me. With every tear came redemption and my torturers became my remedy. So we’re gonna heal. We’re gonna start again. You’ve brought the orchestra, synchronized swimmers.

You’re the magician. Pull me back together again, the way you cut me in half. Make the woman in doubt disappear. Pull the sorrow from between my legs like silk. Knot after knot after knot. The audience applauds … but we can’t hear them.

—  Lemonade
Waking Up in Vegas

@imxthexhandler​ - copied from [here]

Amelia cautiously sat up, feeling self-conscious so she made sure to draw up the bed sheet with her, covering herself. She looked down at Steve, biting her bottom lip again nervously, nodding, keeping silent.

“Now what do we do?”

Amelia didn’t know the answer for that. She loved Steve, had for years. And certainly, yes, she wanted to be married to him, a part of her wanting to stay married, but… What about Steve? What if he didn’t want this but was too much of a gentleman to say anything? Did he want an annulment? Would she have to be the one to bring it up? She certainly didn’t want to trap Steve in a marriage if he didn’t want it, but just the thought of going through the annulment process almost brought tears to Amelia’s eyes. But she refused to cry. Amelia forced a smile. “Breakfast would be great, please,” she answered him. “I’m just…I want to take a shower. Could you order for us, please?” she requested.

He nodded. “Sure, I’ll order for us.” He turned away from her to give her some privacy as she got out of the bed and went to the bathroom. Yes they were married but this wasn’t the normal circumstances for a married couple to find themselves in. 

He picked up the phone on the bedside table and dialed for room service. Unsure of what Amelia would actually want for breakfast (surely her husband should know that without having to ask), he ordered a large section of different foods, thinking that whatever Amelia didn’t eat he could finish off.

Once that call had been made, Steve did consider calling either Natasha or Sam to ask for some advice. Like how was he supposed to act around Amelia now? He decided against it. It wouldn’t be fair to talk to the others about Amelia without first trying to clear the air between them. If only Steve had a clue on how to do that?

He got dressed in the clothes he could find on the bedroom floor (his shirt was missing but the rest was there), before heading out into the lounge area. He waited on the couch for their breakfast or for when Amelia emerged from the bathroom whichever happened first.

xxvanillaflowerxx  asked:

*Vanilla heard in one of the flowers Babycup exclaiming he didn't want to live, a shriek, then the loud sound it makes before a reset. This brought tears to her eyes but they quickly faded away when she noticed Babycup* Oh, hi Babycup

*…h-howdy Vanilla…

**He looked to the Echo Flower, then back. His petals and face drooped.*

*…I’m sorry you had to hear that…

[7/10]

It’s 11:30 PM and I successfully made it through my first 6 hour night shift at the group home. I was terribly frightened going in, so it ended up being a lot better than I expected. The home is gorgeous and the setting is picturesque. It’s situated amongst acres and acres of open land. There are SO many stars at night. In the house, there’s a big dining room with two long wooden tables for family style dinners, a gorgeous kitchen, two living rooms (each with big screen TVs so the kids don’t fight over what to watch) and a beautiful, personalized single bedroom for each of the boys. My initial tour almost brought me to tears.

There’s some serious shit going on there— like 6 and 7 year olds on anti-psychotics serious, but the staff is kind and good and really committed to the well being of these little ones. When I first arrived, there were only two kids there; the rest were at rec or on visitations or something of the sort. One was shy and hesitant (he had just moved in this morning) and the other seemed to be a very strong presence in the house and was practically bouncing off the walls trying to show me around. He’s my favorite already.

When the rest of the kids got in, everyone was yelling “NEW STAFF!! NEW STAFF!!” - like some kind of weird alert system they’d developed. It made me laugh. I was sitting with the first two kids eating dinner and the others joined. One tried to punch a hole through the wall because he wanted PB&J but that wasn’t an option. He flipped a table when we gave him turkey, but that was the worst behavior I saw all night… I’m sure that will change.

At the dinner table, one of the boys said, “I think you’re going to really like it here.” I found that sweet. “Do you like it here?” I asked. “Yeah, it’s cool.” I felt much more at ease somehow.

Most of my evening was spent observing other staff, and just interacting with the kids and getting to know them. I played Monopoly Jr. with one little guy until he got mad that he was losing and we tried something else. I watched Pokemon in the little living room with a few of them, and then played soccer and basketball outside for a few hours. It’s always easy to win over young boys when you’re good at sports. Snack time was my favorite. They all insisted I have an ice pop with them— I couldn’t really say no…

Their bedtime is 8:30 and my sweet little tour guide from earlier wanted me to tuck him in and read him a story. I agreed, of course, so he got on his Spiderman pajamas and hopped under his ninja turtle comforter and told me to pick my favorite book out of his closet. He turned on a little light machine that projected moons and stars on the ceiling while I read Blue’s Clues to him. He said “I like you” while he tickled me with his toes. He asked about 100 questions, but finally ended with: “can you stay with me until I fall asleep?”

Later that evening, I spent some time reading their paperwork. I always take that kind of stuff with a grain of salt, honestly. Even when I worked in the schools, it was pretty routine to read IEPs before working with the kids, but I always read them a few days after. I hate to have my initial perceptions clouded by surface diagnostic nonsense. But I decided to read the histories of the two boys I worked closest with today. My new little friend is a foster kid with PTSD, complex trauma, and dissociative identity disorder. He was the witness to a great deal of abuse and as a result takes on the identity of his attacker during episodes. His issues with attachment-based relationships are pretty well documented but I just couldn’t stop thinking of how he was tickling me with his toes five minutes before.

The other boy is only 6, on anti-psychotics (and a cocktail of other drugs) and has been hospitalized/admitted to inpatient psychiatric four times— the first time when he was only 3. I heard him speak so casually of CPEP (Comprehensive Psychiatric Evaluation Program) earlier on the swing set; now I understood why.

This residence is a well-oiled machine. I think it’s going to take a bit of adjustment for me to get into the swing of things, but it seems really good so far. These kids inspire me already. I love that I get to eat dinner with them and put them to bed. I love that they have such an incredible place to grow and learn and thrive. I hope each day is better than the next. I hope I have enough coffee to get me through these night shifts. I hope we watch Pokemon again tomorrow.

To Be Still

When I’m camping, or anytime I’m surrounded by nature… everything is so simple. Tranquil. Still. Even when I’m in motion, wandering in the woods…it’s reflective, healing. The looming fog isn’t frightening, it’s welcoming. The shade and engulfing tree limbs are a security blanket, a sweet embrace. It’s only here that I find a freedom from the imprisoning whispers in my head, the constant traffic of shuffling thoughts lost in the chaos of the day to day. It’s is everything, this nothingness. It is the nothing that I search for. And I always forget.

-Written 8/23 on an overnight impromptu camping trip with my husband, after waking up and walking down to the pond. I hadn’t felt so blissful, calm and at peace in so long that it brought tears to my eyes.

See previous post.

sabereth  asked:

Hi I'm that anon that brought you to tears, lmfao im so sorry I also want them to be happy too but you wanted some (H)angst so B)

nah its fine! i asked for it and i got it and oddly enough angst me happy so its all good

angst or fluff everything is great 

November 11th, 2015 was the day Vietnam finally recognizes transgender people and legalizes related surgical proceedings. This picture was of two LGBTQ individuals in a march that takes place after the legalization, to show the gratitude towards the Congress.

This is the first image that reaches me along with the news, and one of the most, which brought me to tears at that moment. The photo captures a moment of a calmer happiness, but moving and full of love. As a queer person and an LGBTQ activist, I can feel what they are feeling: pride, appreciation, love, hope, even if I am on the other side of the globe.

It’s iconic for the hope and the full emotions it brought me, but also for the mark it makes in history, of the queer community and Vietnam, as they take a step closer to equality for everyone.