loose souls

sarchengsey roadtrip selfies (”should they be in sepia or black and white?” asked henry, “who cares?” said blue, “sepia,” said gansey “im quite fond of sepia.”)

The Day After The Election I Did Not Go Outside by Hanif Willis-Abdurraqib

BUT for a moment, to drive to the soul
food spot on Congress ave. where utensils,
large & made for the hands of no one living among
us, hang on the walls & where the woman behind

the counter yells out my order before my second
foot makes it in the door & where her laugh is like
my sister’s or where her laugh is like my mother’s or
where her laugh is like my grandmother’s or where her laugh

is like the laugh of a black woman who knows where the devil
is hiding & knows how to shake him loose & in the soul food
spot there are no devils but there is plenty sin & where you look
at the sweet tea & your dentist gets a chill from miles away &

where, if the gossip is good enough, the smoke from the kitchen
puffs into black halos & someone ain’t getting the catfish they
ordered & where all is forgiven & where forgiveness is always
dressed in something fried or sweet & where, around a circle

of spent plates, men with their full bellies & thin gold chains slap
cards on a wooden table & where those men ignore the yelling
& the marching on the television & where I imagine those men
have seen this movie before & know its ending & yet are still

here to watch it again & where the plates rattle when one of the men shows
his hand & says his partner ain’t shit & where I laugh because these men
could be my father & around the right table, I am everyone’s child &
where the stereo is from the 90s & so is everything that crawls out of it

& where Lauryn sings how you gon’ win if you ain’t right within & I am
oh, I am right within for this small and shrinking moment. I am right
within for this newborn praise, because the rain stopped & the clouds
gave way earlier & yes, the darkness arrives sooner now & yes,

the streets were still slick, but on this day, the children were in
them, dodging the streetlights on their small bikes & the girls
leapt & whipped their long ponytails through the open mouths
of two jump ropes & this is the only country they know & it is nothing

to get free when your only country is freedom & so I say, then:
make a border around any place you are loved & call it yours.
make a border around those who hold you up & build what
you must to keep the devils out. I say, then: I know, I know

the burning cannot be unseen & on this night I claimed a new
& fleeting empire, governed by soul food & loud black children &
no one telling them to be quiet. governed by men who lose
card games. governed by men who know they ain’t shit & the women

who know it better but have loved them for too long to stop
now. oh country, my new and brief country. how I walk from you
full & into the wreckage. how I wish you everywhere now.
how I try to taste you in the air instead of blood.

Permanent Ink

Draco Malfoy x Reader

Soulmate AU; Sixth Year Hogwarts

1,420 words

Draco is sixteen when it happens.

The inescapable, the invariable, the inevitable.

A strange, searing, effervescent kind of pain spikes through the tangled nerve ending of his wrist halfway through a potions lesson. Ink bleeding through veins into skin.

And he knows, is the thing. Understands that he’s been given a clue to decipher and a puzzle to solve and a loose-threaded soul that will somehow match the stitches in his chest.

He spares a glance across the room. At the girl seated beside the pearlescent, seething cauldrons of Amortentia that he had failed to smell any scent from just a month earlier. Before a mark, a soulmate blossomed across his wrist and -

Her fingers are knotted together as she stares up at Snape. He can see the shadow of her profile - all parted lips and sloping cheeks, a sharp nose and delicate eyebrows - thrown against the floor in a swath of dust cluttered sunlight.

He allows himself a scrape of hope that its her, spelled out across his skin. That he’ll have an irrefutable, undeniable excuse as to any he wants her so desperately.

After all, the magic never lies.

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age: 35
zodiac: sagittarius
height/weight: 6’ 1"/ 119 lbs
b day: 11/30/1952
gender: female
blood type: ???
laterality: ambidextrous
romantic/sexual orientation: biromantic/heterosexual
yaoi type: uke
hobby(ies): sleeping, doll making, embroidery, spectating
personality: maria is almost always focused on some sort of scheme to free the souls of the children from their “eternal” prison, if not in a constant state of mourning and regret of the day it all happened. she blames herself for it bc she left the establishment w/o her bearings. she works w/ spring bonnie in attempts to try to communicate w/ the loose souls that now haunt the restaurant as they are. she’s always spectating and observing the other animatronics as each day passes.. and is always hoping for goldie to give her another chance…

age: 35
height/weight: 5’ 6"/ 150 lbs
b day: 11/30/1952
gender: female
blood type: A
laterality: ambidextrous
hobby(ies): singing, reading, sewing
siblings: clara afton (dead)’ micheal afton
personality/story: after finishing her time in boarding school (now w/o the memories of what happened before, how her sister was killed and why she was in such despair, bc of the coma blanking her memory), maria mellows out. the new smile she wears seems sketchy at times, but it’s almost always warm and welcoming. she‘s usually quiet, but maria’s always willing to get to know new ppl. especially her new step-son, gregory. but some ppl just aren’t willing to give in to such open arms.. on the day of amber’s birthday, she was a bit distracted; luther jackson, her husband, had dropped the two off at the pizzeria for the party. she was at a payphone, trying to call him so he could pick her and gregory up to go back home. gregory watched the other kids, but something was wrong. stacey was just staring down a dark hall, prohibited to unauthorized personnel, claiming that she saw someone that needed their help. gregory wasn’t willing to follow but, in concern for her safety, went after her. while maria’s back was turned, he and the other children followed stacey down the hall, and into a storage closet. maria heard a scream and realized that gregory was gone. she couldn’t find him anywhere. the restaurant was ordered to be cleared immediately and ambulances arrived shortly afterwards. 2 bodies were recovered: stacey’s and vincent’s, dressed in micheal afton’s uniform. she was unconscious, he was dead. the other bodies simply vanished. no traces. the authorities wouldn’t give her answers (even if they could), no matter how much she begged. maria sought to find those answers herself, by taking a job as a security guard at the sister location that would become the atmosphere of the first game, arriving early to search for clues in secret and enduring the horrors of what players experience in the game itself. on the fifth night, maria somehow manages to sneak out of her office to see if she could reason w/ anyone else who might’ve known what happened that day (bc there was no other way, everything she had tried already didn’t give her any insight on the case) the marionette finds and kills her. she later realizes, in the body of her reaper, that it was really her all along

age: 10
height/weight: 4’ 1"/90 lbs
b day: 11/30/1952
gender: female
blood type: A
laterality: ambidextrous
siblings: clara afton, micheal afton
story: the middle child of 3. her little sister, clara afton, took more interest in her father’s work than mariah did. she was a bit of a problem child too. bc of this she was sent away, as a recommendation from her step-mother, to boarding school back home in england for most of her childhood. after hearing of clara’s death, mariah was able to go back home for her funeral. this put her into a deep and worrying mourning state. she was the very first crying child, that you see outside the restaurant in the second five nights game, in one of the later mini-games after you die ((iforgetwhatitwascalledsomethingaboutcake??)). after her unexpected interaction w/ vincent, who used his power to temporarily disguise himself as a 9-year-old boy, she was found unconscious and seemingly lifeless on the sidewalk and was immediately rushed to the hospital. she remained in a coma for 2 weeks afterwards, but miraculously, made a complete recovery. what she, or anyone at all, didn’t know was that vincent had placed a curse upon her. a curse that would lie dormant for years, waiting for the correct moment to activate and take control. marking her eventual.. and brutal fate…

I know now that I love you more than anything. That the moment I should think about how I would survive, the only thing I could think about was you. And if I would meet you again. And I am so afraid of loosing you and never seeing you again. And I know it’s difficult for us now and no one of us knows if we will ever have a chance but what I want most right now, what I wish from the bottom of my heart is to have a chance to tell you how I feel, how much I love you and how wonderful person you are.
God, I miss you, I miss you so so much. I don’t wanna lose you. But only a miracle can save our love right now. Only a miracle.
—  moonstone-girl
What happens next?

It started with her sight. She had always had 20/20 vision, but then fine details began to look hazy. It got worse by the day. She’d put on her friends’ glasses, but the blurriness didn’t get better or worse. Next was her taste. Food lacked flavor. Her favorite snacks weren’t so amazing anymore. The same happened with her senses of touch, hearing, and smell. All five got a little bit worse with each passing day.

The doorbell rang, although she barely heard it. Her bare feet took carefull steps over the ground, attempting to balance without being able to feel the hard surface. With fumbling fingers, she opened the door. On her porch, she could make out the fuzzy shape of a person dressed in black.

Surprising, he spoke in a crystal clear, loud voice. Even more surprisingly, she didn’t hear what he said with her ears. She heard it in her mind.

“We have to go quicly. After your senses fade away, so will your body, and loose souls are never good.”

“What are you talking about?”

“You don’t belong in this world; you never have. Now, your visiting time is up.”

انا اليوم لست كما كنت امس. وغدا ساكون على غير حالي اليوم. لا يجمد الانسان الا اذا مات.. والحي يموت اذا نزعت روحة او تجمد عقلة..
I am today not what i was yesterday, and tomorrow ill be different than today.
A person stays still when dead. And the living die when they loose there soul or there mind becomes still.


a/n: Tried my hand on the fluffiest InuKag fic I could write lol 900 words. Modern Teenage AU.

Kagome was propped up against a tree, her nose in a history book and her right hand holding a green highlighter tightly, while the the other supported her head. She had chosen something bright for the start of summer, an orange dress with peppered white monarch butterflies, and a blue bow to keep her hair out of her face. Her feet were bare, tucked beneath her neatly; toes peeking out like pebbled diamonds, painted a pretty sapphire hue. Her lips were pink like she had been nibbling on a strawberry, and her eyes were covered by black-tinted sunglasses with tiny white dogs on the side.

And that was how Inuyasha found her. Seated on the earth like a chest at the end of a treasure map.

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Only Heaven Knows

Title: Only Heaven Knows

Summary: You might be winning the hearts of these boys to capture loose souls but every single time they always kissed you and not the other way around.

You think idly that if you ever fell in love you’d kiss him first. If you ever finish catching all 600,000 souls that is.

Pairings: Gladion x Reader and Reader x Everyone.

The tricky thing about winning over guys is capturing their attention. Fortunately, you were practically invisible. It didn’t matter if you were in the same class or in the same neighborhood. You were, as they say, a blank slate. And because you were blank it was easy to mold yourself into the kind of person that suited every guy.

It started with a love for Otome games.

Keep reading

Let loose once in a while. Stay up too late, drink until you drop, order the dirtiest, fattiest, most delicious item on the menu. You cannot live your whole life restricting yourself only to what is good and healthy for the body. Sometimes, you have got to do what is good and healthy for the soul.
—  Beau Taplin, Healthy Eating
Honeymustard Collection 20

With a cherry on top!

Last installation - thanks everyone for such a wonderful time! Love ya - every one!

Red woke to warmth and the faintest humming, starting in his ribcage and spreading out to each phalange tip. He kept his eye sockets closed for a while, savoring the comfortable darkness. Man, this felt good. Like a hot bath. Some part of him wished he could stay like this forever…probably the same part that knew how much it was going to hurt once he woke fully. Yeah, that wasn’t going to be fun – Boss had really torn into him, hadn’t he? Suppose he deserved it though for running off like that. Shit, between Boss and Stretch Red had managed to disappoint every monster he loved…

Red twitched, muggy thoughts jolting a bit.


Memories of his last few minutes of consciousness curled on the cold concrete of his gutted bedroom fought to the forefront of his thoughts. Oh, shit. Oh, fuck. Had Stretch really…? Shit. SHIT! No way had that ended well for Stretch. Fuck, if Boss found him in their timeline he’d tear Papyrus bone from bone!

Casting aside concern for the pain that was sure to come once Red forced himself from this dim, warm place, Red took a little breath and cracked an eye socket. His surroundings came together slowly – drawn curtains, dark room…and a hunched figure beside his mattress, back turned to where Red lay on his side. Was that…Boss? He was muttering something, shoulders and skull all but silhouetted by a small globe of orange light he appeared to be cradling in his lap. Red attempted another hitched breath, pupils wavering as he lifted a hand quietly to his ribcage.

Oh, fuck…

His soul was displaced. Boss didn’t usually like touching Red’s soul – he found it disgusting – so why would he…?

The figure shifted and the light changed a bit, revealing a sloped jaw, smooth skull, and oversized orange hoodie. Red immediately relaxed his clutched phalanges from his ribs just as another wave of warmth passed over him. He all but melted into the mattress, eye sockets sliding half shut in pleasure, the tension in his aching bones unwinding like a long breath.



Red knew this feeling. Stretch had bubbled his soul in an orb of his healing magic, brow furrowed, hands cupped, gently coaxing Red’s scarred, stuttering heart still while he worked. Red blinked – now that he thought about it…there wasn’t any pain. From his cracked sternum to his split kneecaps the only feeling in his bones was warmth and comfort. Wow…definitely…not what he’d been expecting. How had Stretch…?

Red stopped himself from sitting up, holding his breath a bit when Stretch’s muttering voice became a little clearer. He was speaking low and fast, like an intonation or chant or something. Red strained to hear him, the rising happiness in his chest dampened a bit when he finally understood – Stretch was saying “sorry”…over and over, no stopping for breath, no fluctuation in his raspy voice, no break in his concentration. Just:

“I’m sorry I didn’t come find you sooner. I’m sorry I didn’t make you feel like you could stay here with me. I’m sorry I didn’t sit with you when I knew you weren’t feeling okay. I’m sorry I can’t heal you better, or make you feel safe, or keep you smiling all the time, or stop your nightmares, or get rid of your scars. I’m sorry I’m not the best person to help you and there’s times when I just…don’t know what to do – and I’m sorry that when you left…all I could think about was myself and how terrible I felt when I should have been thinking about you. I’m sorry that I…”

Red swallowed, wondering if Stretch could feel his soul surely growing heavier in the taller skeleton’s hands. God, Pap looked exhausted. How long had he been going at this? And how long before that had he been working on the machine that made the leap into Red’s timeline possible? And how long before that had he been kept awake after Red had…vanished without as much as a goodbye?

Stretch’s skull bobbed with fatigue – his shoulders shook. A series of little incoherent noises interrupted Pap’s steady apologetic stream. Shit, was he…crying? Red propped himself up on his elbow, wincing as some remnant pain broke through whatever healing protection Papyrus had set in place. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. What should he do? After a frantic moment of hesitation Red reached out a hand to tug at the orange sleeve of Papyrus’s hoodie.


No response.

Red lifted himself to his knees, gritting his teeth against the sting as he pulled himself up beside the taller skeleton. He pressed into Papyrus’s shoulder, resting one hand on Pap’s spine and ghosting the other over his phalanges where they were cupped around Red’s soul in his lap.

“Hey, Pap?”

Papyrus blinked slowly, his repentant mantra fading out. He turned his head slightly to look at the smaller skeleton now tucked against his side, pupils unfocused with magic depletion.

“Oh,” Papyrus said, voice small, “…you’re awake.”

Red attempted a smile but immediately dropped the effort when rolling tears welled up and over Papyrus’s eye sockets, tracing wet lines down his cheekbones unchecked. Red could feel Stretch absolutely shaking and when he spoke his voice was all but incoherent for how much it broke.

“Red, I’m sorry. F-fuck, I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry…”

“Hey…” Red pressed his hand over Pap’s mouth, cutting him off. “Hey!”

They stayed like that for a moment, Red completely frozen and Stretch’s pupils lit with a wild, desperate magic. Fuck…what was he supposed to do? Red wanted to apologize, more than anything he wanted to just apologize – for making such a dumb fucking decision and leaving Papyrus that way. For freezing up every time Stretch so much as fucking kissed him. For being all but incapable of returning or even accepting Pap’s affection. For being…so fucking broken…it would be easy to apologize for all that – but…

“You know,” Red muttered, “some numbskull once told me…that regret, and misery, and guilt…doesn’t do anyone any good. Some touchy-feely bullshit, right?”

The light in Papyrus’s eyes calmed a little.

He lifted Red’s hand from his mouth with a soft touch on the smaller skeleton’s wrist and leaned in to kiss the crown of his skull, then his brow, then his mouth. Red let out a slow breath, watching his soul held loosely in Stretch’s other hand pulse a little brighter with every kiss.

It was a good start.



“…hang on.”

“Okay, but I don’t think he can wait much longer…”

“Okay, okay!”

Red tried to keep himself from wringing his hands and failed immediately. His stomach was in knots and he felt like an idiot standing in Papyrus’s two sizes too big borrowed clothes in the middle of his bedroom facing a closed door. Stretch leaned nonchalantly beside the doorframe, one hand on the knob, the other tucked in his front hoodie pocket. He cocked a brow at Red.

It’d been a whole week since Red had come back and the entire time he’d been quarantined in Pap’s bedroom so he could heal. His ribs still ached a bit and he boasted a few new scars from his most recent encounter with his old timeline, but his soul shone stronger than ever and Stretch had told him he was pretty sure Sans was going to “pull a muscle” if he had to wait any longer to meet the monster Papyrus kept going on about.

“Okay,” Red took a deep breath, “I’m ready.”

Stretch gave a resolute nod.

“Might wanna brace your knees,” he said flatly, and turned the knob.

“Why would I – oomph!”

Red was nearly bowled over backwards when what appeared to be a short blue ball rocketed into the room and immediately snared him in a rib-crushing hug. Sans, or “Blue,” as Papyrus called his younger brother, wore a grin big enough to crack his skull in two and he practically had stars in his bright, wide eyes.

“Oh my gosh! You really do look like me! Papy, doesn’t he kinda look like me? Oh, right – hi, I’m Sans! You’re Red – oh, sorry, I already knew that! I like your tooth! You smell like smoke – do you smoke like my brother? That’s not good for your health, Red! But don’t worry, me and Papy will look after you now, right Papy?”

Stretch kinda nodded lazily where he was draped against the wall – though in agreement to what part of Sans’s hyper babble Red wasn’t entirely sure.

“Oh my gosh!” Sans all but shouted, releasing Red as suddenly as he’d grabbed him. “I’ll make some hot cocoa! Do you like hot cocoa, Red? Never mind, of course you do! Wait right here, I’ll be right back!”

He bolted off, taking the corner from Papyrus’s bedroom fast enough to slide on the carpet before darting from view. Red readjusted his shirt, not sure if he wanted to focus on regaining his breath first or just laugh. Wow…Stretch really hadn’t been exaggerating, had he?

“Doesn’t anyone in this timeline have a personal bubble?” Red growled, shooting Stretch what he attempted to make a disgruntled scowl.

Pap shrugged, smiling as he pulled a cigarette from his hoodie pocket and pushed himself off the wall.

“Heh - just you. Coming?”

Red didn’t even try to hide his smile as he followed after Stretch.