the dangerous world of my mind


Why didn’t you tell me- that you knew… know Even ? Because I’d knew you’d ask and dig around about him. Yeah, and what’s the danger in that ? I think Even should get to choose for himself- how much he wants to share about his past. I mean, one doesn’t wanna share everything about one’s past.

Punk (Chap. 11)

Originally posted by coporolight

Summary: You’re head over heels for your best friend Bucky and hate the nickname he gave you as it doesn’t exactly scream romance.

Word count: ~2500

Warnings: Language, mission/war related violence and gore, shooting, battle related injuries/casualties/mayhem

A/N:  My sincere apologies for how long this has taken.  I’ve been dealing with some personal things and, quite frankly, it took away all desire to write.  I hope you like this chapter, the photo with the shield later on in the story is actually the inspiration for the entire series.  So you can get inspiration from anywhere :)  I want to thank everyone who stuck around waiting and who has been so helpful and kind to me.  Also, I’m very excited to continue writing more chapters!  Thank you for your continued patience.

As always, feedback is always appreciated.  Please let me know how the ‘action’ plays out as I am always looking for ways to improve my storytelling.  Thanks!

Your face fell in horror, but you seemed to be the only one moving, the rest of the world seemed to be stuck in some sort of time lapse.  Bucky was still just crouching there, holding the boy, with that stupid, beautiful smile still plastered to his face, not yet seeing the danger, not yet registering your alarm.

No no no no no no NO!  Your mind was screaming the words as you tore your gaze away from the scene.  The man was getting closer.  NO!

You bolted forward, shoving the woman into the alley screaming for Bucky to run, ripping your vocal chords in the process. Your legs felt like they were trudging through molasses, like some force was pulling you back, weighing you down. And each step on the pavement felt like an elephant stomp making the ground shake.  But it was as if you weren’t moving any closer.  But you had to.  You had to.   Because what was about to happen could. not. happen.

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Why Embracing Emotional Distress is the Best Medicine Sometimes

Much of our mental suffering is caused by our overwhelming attempt to avoid it. We think experiencing any sort of anxiety is a threat to our existing, but psychology studies have proven that one learns from struggle. One becomes a better human being through heartache. Let us explain with the science behind this theory..

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Victorian Starters
  • "Have you made any inquiries?"
  • "This complicates matters."
  • "It is indeed kind of you to come."
  • "I have no time for trifles."
  • "My heart grows light."
  • "Do I put you off?"
  • "That sounds ominous."
  • "You may entirely rely on me."
  • "I am impatient to be gone."
  • "I cannot possibly fathom what you are talking about."
  • "Let me hail a passing cab and we can be away."
  • "Heaven bless you."
  • "We are on a hunt."
  • "Glad to meet you."
  • "In these days of nouveaux riches, it is good to see an old country family restore the grandeur of the line."
  • "Are you well?"
  • "What sort of night is it?"
  • "You have much to answer for."
  • "How can I assist you?"
  • "How long will it take you to make up your mind?"
  • "I have no feelings on the matter."
  • "The world is full of oblivious things that no one ever observes."
  • "This is my special hobby."
  • "There is danger."
  • "Be ready in an instant!"
  • "Are you mad?"
  • "I shall not be played for a fool."
  • "You look very serious."
  • "Surely you will stay and have some dinner?"
  • "Give me another mouthful of that brandy."
  • "Know your place."
  • "This matter is too serious for any hesitation."
  • "This is very deep business."
  • "Is there immediate danger?"
  • "I cannot say. It is a private matter."
  • "I seem to have dropped into a council of war."
  • "The plot thickens."

So it’s 2AM and I’m reading some fics and suddenly my mind is spinning


You know how one of the mysteries of Inuyasha is how chill Mama Higurashi is about her 15 year old daughter time-traveling through an enchanted well to go back a few centuries into an extremely dangerous world with a half-youkai she (Mama) barely knows and some other strangers she’s never met to repair a broken magic jewel and fight monsters, not to mention missing weeks upon weeks of school in the process? Kind of weird, right?

but…but guys…

what if she knows

What if Kagome, after returning to the feudal era to live there at the end of the series (regardless of your opinion on whether or not the well stayed open)…what if she kept some kind of journal or other record? Wrote down all her experiences, her story, how things ended…and what if that record made its way down the generations into Mama Higurashi’s hands?

And she knew, even before Kagome fell down the well the first time, she knew.

She wouldn’t tell Kagome directly, of course, for fear of disrupting the flow of time, but it sure helped her to stay calm when her daughter came home with stories of jewels and bandits and monsters and frustrating hanyou. 

She knew that, as dangerous as it was, that Kagome and her friends would win their battle in the end, and that her little girl would be safe, and that that gruff, dog-eared stranger would grow into a good man who her daughter would love and would protect her and give her a good life. She knew that it was ok if she wasn’t all over her schoolwork, because there was no use for a diploma in the feudal era.

She knew, and as such understood that she didn’t need to stop her daughter from taking this scary, dangerous journey. She just needed to support her, and it would all work out–because it already had, nearly 500 years ago.

I just… 


“He was my brother.”

Those were the first words to tumble out of her mouth when Rhaegar told her Brandon had been killed. He held her hands as if that were any sort of consolation, as if his touch would remind her that there were fairer things to live for. 

“I’m sorry, sweetling,” he cooed as if she were a confused child and not a woman who had just had her whole world pulled out from under her.

“I have to– I have to go to my family. This was a mistake. I must go home.” She rose to her feet quickly, her body moving at a faster pace than her mind, but two hands firmly returned her to her seat.

“I’m afraid that’s not possible, Lyanna,” Rhaegar informed her coldly, but with a kind smile. “It’s far too dangerous now– and you’re with child.”

“Please.” The word is tremulous and weak on her lips when she wanted to be bold and strong– but how, how could she be, when she was so far south and her pack so far away and reduced to only three?

Rhaegar pressed a kiss to her forehead in response. It burned worse than any other words he could have offered.




“He is my brother.”

She’s enraged. She’s tired, and aching, and in sorrow too, but most of all, she’s enraged.

“This is a war, Lyanna. I have no choice.” Rhaegar does not treat her like a child anymore, no, not after he learned that she had teeth and claws to match those the wolf on her sigil sported. Not after her belly swelled with true object of his desire.

“You have a choice! You have a choice not to raise your sword against him. You have the choice to spare him and let me see him again.” The words alone brought unbidden tears to her eyes. Oh, to see Ned again would be so sweet. Kind, gentle Ned with his honest face and boundless patience. She missed him. She missed him so much.

“I have a kingdom and a family to protect,” Rhaegar returned.

“So does he!”

“It is not the same.”

She would have scoffed had it not been her brother’s life on the line. “Then I pray the gods strike you down.”

Rhaegar smiled, however sad that smile was. Once upon a time she had swooned at that smile. Now, however, she prays he dies with it upon his lips.




“He is my brother.”

She gripped Arthur’s hand with as much strength as she could offer. Her fever was burning, burning, burning everything away. She should have died days earlier, but Lyanna knew she must live.

“I’m sorry, my lady,” Arthur said grimly, offering a half-hearted squeeze in return.

“I want to see him again. Please, I want to see Ned.” 

“He comes now.”

“Please, Ser Arthur.”

The knight retreated as the babe at her breast began to cry anew.





Had it not been for his touch, for the coldness of his skin against her hot, she would have thought him a dream, born of fever and her deepest desire.

“Lyanna,” his voice called to her from the haze, sharp and clear and beautiful. “Lyanna, it’s Ned.”

“Thank the gods,” she breathed. He grasped her hand, pressed it to his lips. His face swam in her vision, but it was Ned, it was really Ned. “I feared I’d never see you again.”

“I’m here, Lya.”

“Then listen.” She licked her chapped lips. “Please, listen.”

Her brother nodded, and listened.

The Mystery of DD

Since a lot of newer fans weren’t around to experience the mystery of the DD era as it was unfolding, I wanted to try to describe it so people can understand what it was like to be an MCR fan in 2010.

A Bizarre Mystery

It all began on September 4th, 2010, when MCR’s website suddenly disappeared and was replaced with a mysterious transmitter. No one had any idea this was coming, and no explanation was offered. You could click the dials to see different screens (test patterns, a nuclear fallout symbol, etc.), and hear distorted sounds. At one point, fans believed that they could hear an unreleased MCR song on one of the stations, buried under static and distortion. Later on, the transmitter started playing mysterious videos that hinted at a post-apocalyptic universe.

Not long after the transmitter appeared, the DrDeathDefying Twitter account was discovered after he tweeted a fan. NewsAGoGo and AgentCherriCola were discovered soon after, with the rest of the accounts coming later. The accounts posted a bizarre mixture of strange pictures, futuristic slang, references to apocalyptic events, fan interactions, and eerie ramblings. You could determine a loose background and storyline from the Twitter accounts, but they were so vague that no one was quite sure what was going on. All we knew was that the characters seemed to be part of a nightmarish, post-apocalyptic universe that took place in the near future. But we had no idea how this related to MCR, or why they’d gone in this direction for their next album.

The Return of

The website did return on September 8th, with a new photo and blog post from Frank. But the blog post offered no explanation, and the speculation was far from over. The transmitter was still accessible on a separate page on MCR’s website. As the Twitter accounts continued to post their bizarre ramblings, people made connections to everything from movies to past MCR eras to the supposed “2012 Mayan Apocalypse.” At that point, their next album could have been about anything.

Looking back at Danger Days now, it’s pretty clear what was going on. But at the time, we had no idea where this era was heading. Keep in mind that our only sources of information were the Twitter accounts and the transmitter–no comics, no music videos, no interviews. The era could have been about anything. For this reason, fans scrutinized every scrap of information–pictures, tweets, transmissions–down to the smallest detail.

A World of Theories

The blog girlautomatic is a great place to read the old theories. Here’s an example from one of her posts:

Here’s my new theory:

  • Dr. Death Defying is part of a group called the Philly Jackals, likely a gang that either travels around on motorcycles or cars or both. Whether the group actually comes out of Philadelphia, assuming Philadelphia (or even the other states) still even exists as we know them to exist, is debatable.
  • The name Dr. Death Defying is an alias s/he either adopted or was given upon joining up with the Philly Jackals.
  • Slaughtermatic Sounds is both their logo and their motto.
  • The car in the picture Frank posted and the raygun Dr. Death Defying tweeted a picture of belong to him/her.

Which could possibly mean that the Lady referred to in this tweet is said car. It also probably means that last night’s tweet about being low on batteries is also about his car, but that might be a bit of a stretch. Also? I’m not sure I’d want to get on the Doctor’s bad side, if this is all correct. Motor gangs are serious business. It at least casts this tweet in a different light, though, and really makes me wonder if this tweet about nitro is referring to the dangers of drag racing, and if this tweet is about traveling on the open road.

This might look strange to fans today, but at the time, no scrap of information was insignificant. Whole blog posts were written about one or two tweets. People studied the blank transmitter screen, trying to see vague shadows or reflections in the image. They traced pictures posted on Twitter to their original sources, then studied the sources. To fans, it was basically a giant puzzle–but we had no idea where it was heading, or if there were even a solution to find.

People also tried to figure out who ran these Twitter accounts. We know now that Shaun Simon ran most of them, with Gerard Way and Jon Rivera handling DrDeathDefying. But at the time, several fans (including me) just kind of assumed that the members of MCR ran the accounts. A popular theory was that Gerard ran DrDeathDefying and Frank ran NewsAGoGo (a few tweets shared Frank’s typing style.) However, some people did suspect that Shaun Simon was involved, as the characters tended to tweet about things that he mentioned on his personal Twitter.

The End of an Era

Eventually the “Art Is The Weapon“ video was released, and the interviews and music videos that followed cleared up a lot of the mystery. But the characters continued to tweet, some of them posting well into 2013. We’re now familiar with the Danger Days universe, but the hint of mystery and intrigue still lingers. Many questions were never answered, while some concepts and ideas were scrapped altogether. Even if we get more content in the future, parts of DD will always remain a mystery to us–and I think that’s one reason that it continues to capture people’s imaginations.

An interesting note–thinking back on the transmitter and the Twitter accounts, it felt like we’d analyzed these pieces of information for months. But while I was researching this blog post, I realized that MCR’s website returned after only four days, and "Art Is The Weapon” was released only a few weeks later. I guess the analysis and scrutiny was so in-depth that it seemed to last much longer!

White Houses

“What?” Jughead just stared at the beautiful blonde, her eyes sad but excited. He was still sleeping, that had to be it. This was all a dream.

“I’m running away.” She repeated, her soft voice breaking him from his thoughts, she allowed herself a minute to smile at his absolutely awestruck stare “I mean it’s not gonna be for forever, just the summer. You’re the only person I’m telling this too, I trust you Juggie, I know you won’t tell anyone. Not even Archie.” She warned gently, her eyes scanning his face for any sign of a reaction. “Juggie?” She whispered.

Suddenly he realized exactly what was going on, she was leaving. She was leaving him. On her own? All on her own out in the real world? Sure Riverdale was scary but outside of their tiny town? It was dangerous.

“Where are you going to go? Where are you planning on staying? You’re mom is gonna lose her mind! When are you going?” He rushed out, desperate to know her entire plan.

She waited for him to finish, watched him take a breath before she began answering his questions.

“I’m going to North Carolina. My uncle Chick, he has a summer house down there, no ones using it this summer. he promised not to tell my mother, I’m gonna have the whole place to myself. Oh Juggie it’s right on the lake, it’s so beautiful. As for my mom, she won’t know. I’ll leave a note telling her I’m okay and not to look for me but after that? It’s up to her how she handles it. I…I…” she moved to stand right in front of the skittish boy, resting a hand on his chest. “I have to do this Juggie. I…I need this.” Her eyes were filled with unshed tears and she was smiling at Jughead with such hope, he was rendered speechless. He wrapped his arms around her tiny waist and sighed softly into her hair.

“When do you leave? I’d like to be there to see you off atleast.” He answered her, his brain churning.

“Tommorow morning, after mom leaves for work. Bright and early.” She smiled at her own plan.

Jughead grabbed her hand pulling her along.
“Alright then let me treat you to your last pops milkshake for a while.” Betty giggled but followed anyway.

The night passed in a blur for Jughead, he hadn’t slept all night, too busy planning. Betty hadn’t slept either, the nerves and excitement getting to her. Sure enough, at exactly 8:02, she heard her mothers engine start and the car pull out of the driveway. She didn’t have time to waste. Pulling her bags behind her, she raced down the stairs, quickly opening and shutting the front door. She took a sad moment to stare at the house that haunted her so much, she would miss it, it wouldn’t be for long but it seemed to be all she knew, the pain that house held. Waving at the big White House, she took a deep Breath and turned around.

What the hell?

Standing there, leaning against her car were her best friends, suitcases packed and sweatpants on. Veronica stepped forward first

“Road trips are so in this season, give me those keys girls we need to start loading this car.”
Betty just stared, handing her the keys in a daze. Kevin dragged Cheryl along with him,

“we want the back seats, we need our beauty sleep. This timing is unbearable.” He yawned, winking at Betty, Cheryl moved to stand beside her “I need this too Betty, thanks for letting me come, I know we haven’t been best friends, but it means something to me.” She patted her on the shoulder delicately, walking away. Archie moved to her grabbing her in a bear hug and whispering in her ear

“We’re all here for you, no matter what goes down, you’re not going through it alone.” He then called to Ronnie “no! You’re gonna crush my guitar!” Sprinting to the trunk of her mini van.

Finally she spotted the familiar beanie as it walked towards to her

“Don’t be angry.” He started.

Betty tried to dim her smile “Jughead” she whispered.

He was scratching the back of his neck “I’m sorry, I know this is awful, but I couldn’t let you do this on your own. All those people, well minus Cheryl, they love you. They want to help you, just…don’t hate me.” He glanced at his shoes when he suddenly felt the skinny little tan arms wrapping around his waist

“Thankyou Jughead, this is the nicest thing anyones ever done for me.” She whispered into his chest.

Jughead finally released the breath he had been holding and leaned his chin on top of her head “anytime Betty, anytime.”

Suddenly they were disrupted by the beeping of a horn
“Come on love birds, were burning daylight, we’ve got quite a journey ahead of us.” Archie shouted from the front seat.

Jughead and Betty laughed as the dark haired boy threw an arm around the blondes shoulders
“You heard the man” she giggled “let’s do this!”

Jughead smiled

“Let’s do this.”

This is kind of like a prologue, do you guys think I should add Reggie and the Pussycats in here somehow? Let me know!


Reader x Klaus

The scent. It was the scent of something familiar that was driving Klaus mad. He knew the smell so well that he drew to a stop.

“Niklaus what’re you doing?” Elijah sighed when his brother began to search around for the source.

“You don’t smell that?” He hissed, his eyes locking on a small figure slumped by the docks.

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Anon Request: Angry “I love you” accidentally blurted out in the middle of an argument. First time saying the L word. McCree, Hanzo and Reaper

Okay, I loved this so very much. I hope you like it, darling! If you have any questions or criticisms, message me.


“You’re doing better, L/N,” Gabriel Reyes said, a faint smile on his lips.

“Thank you, sir.” You shifted and stretched your arms above your head, feeling your muscles tense and relax.

“Tell McCree I’ll be with him tomorrow.” Reyes sauntered off as you drifted down the hall, stepping into the kitchen. You caught a glimpse of Jack Morrison as he was leaving, and you shook your head at the strained expression on his face.

You hadn’t noticed your boyfriend until he cleared his throat, drawing your attention toward him.

“Oh, hey! How are you, babe?” You asked as you approached him. When you reached for his shoulder, he leaned away from you, and you frowned. “What’s up, Jesse?”

“Why don’t you ask Reyes? You seem to enjoy spendin’ time with ‘im,” Jesse asked, not meeting your eyes.

“Because he’s training me. I’m sorry if I don’t want him to yell at me,” you said.

“Accordin’ to everyone else, he’s been gettin’ real handsy with ya.” McCree stepped around you, and you narrowed your eyes.

“He’s training me, Jesse. God, why are you acting like this? You know that he isn’t interested in me!” You said, shaking.

“But I don’t know that, darlin’!” He yelled, facing you, “For all I know, he’s waitin’ for ya right now!” His voice cracked, and you realized he was on the verge of tears. His eyes darkened, and he dropped his head, removing the hat from his head. Jesse ruffled his hair and slumped against the counter, staring at you with pained eyes.

“Do you really not trust me enough to know that I would never do something like that?” You asked, your voice straining.

“I love ya!”

The room went silent, and you noticed Gabriel and Jack standing near you, a few other recruits crowded around behind them. You shied away from their curious stares, and Jesse turned his head toward them. Jack and Gabriel were quick to push them down the hall until the both of you were alone once again. Licking your lips, you glanced over at your boyfriend and smiled.

“I love you, too,” you whispered.

Jesse turned his attention toward you, and his eyes softened. You nervously crossed the room and stepped into his arms, burying your face into the curve of his neck. He embraced you against his chest, and you gently kissed just below his ear.

“Sorry, sweatpea,” he whispered, “God, I love ya so damn much.”


You were carefully tending to your wounds as Hanzo paced the length of the room, silently brewing in his own anger. A hiss fell from your lips, and he turned, staring at you.

“If you hadn’t been so reckless, you wouldn’t be in pain,” he said.

You glanced at him and frowned, turning away from him. Already frustrated, you didn’t want to deal with his judgement, especially when you had kept your friends safe.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to be so heroic. It will get you killed one of these days,” Hanzo said through gritted teeth.

“I don’t understand why you feel the need to treat me like a damn child,” you growled, refusing to look at him.

“I am trying to protect you.”

You muttered something underneath your breath, silently mocking him, and you flinched when you felt the alcohol seep into your wound. The blood had stopped, but you were terrified of getting an infection. Stretching your legs out, you bandaged your arm and slipped off the edge of the bed, rising to your feet.

“Look, I’m fine. I have all my limbs, and I’m breathing. I don’t get why you’re so upset!” You said, slowly reaching your limits.

“But you could’ve died! You shouldn’t worry about everyone else when your life is on the line!” Hanzo said, struggling to keep calm. In situations like these, he was typically the one that kept a level head, so seeing him upset made you back away.

“I’m sorry that I didn’t think about myself when all my friends were about to die!” You shrieked, your face an unattractive shade of red. Your fists were clenched at your side, and you were trying to keep your breath steady.

He muttered something in his native tongue, shaking his head as he swept a hand through his hair. The dark tresses fell free and fluttered around his face, momentarily distracting you from the argument.

“It’s not that big of a deal, Hanzo! I’m alive, and I’m fine! Angelea has told me that I’m fine and healthy. You don’t need to worry so much,” you said, staring at him.

“I do have to worry about you!” He yelled, meeting your harsh gaze.


“Because I love you!”

Your heart skipped as he let his shoulders fall, nearly collapsing. Chewing on your nail, you approached him and placed your hands on his chest. He shifted and met your eyes, the anger dissipating. Hanzo seemed defeated as you took him into your arms, holding him close.

“I cannot lose you, my love,” he whispered, his face buried in the curve of your neck.

“You won’t, Hanzo. I promise that you won’t lose me. I’m sorry for scaring you and for yelling at you. I-I just didn’t realize how much I meant to you.”

“You are my world, Y/N,” Hanzo said as he leaned back, staring down at you.

After a moment, you smiled and said, “That was the first time you told me that you loved me. It feels so wonderful. I-I love you, too, Hanzo.”

He kissed you softly, his arm curled around your body, and you leaned into him.

“I won’t purposefully put myself in danger again. Promise.”


You understood that Reaper was not an affectionate man, and he had informed you of this when you first started your relationship with him. However, that didn’t stop the doubt that flooded your mind. Sitting on the floor of your room, you were fiddling with the one photograph you had of him where he looked somewhat pleasant, a faint smile on your lips

Black smoke billowed around your feet, and you turned your head, watching as he phased into the room. His shoulders were tense, visibly upset, and you realized that this would not go well. Rising from the floor, you nervously twisted a strand of hair around your finger, worrying your bottom lip. He was already uncomfortable and angry, and you were going to make it worse.

“I need to talk to you,” you said. He grumbled beneath his breath, his words barely audible. You sighed and inched closer to him. “Uhm, do you want to be with me?”

Reaper went rigid, turning to face you. Though you couldn’t see his face, you could feel the heat of his stare, his smoke spilling from the slits in his mask. You stumbled back as he stormed toward you.

“What?” He asked, his voice much deeper than it typically was. A shiver went down your spine as you dropped your eyes.

“It’s just that, well, you don’t always act like how a boyfriend should act and—“

“Do you think I have the time or the desire to spend every waking moment with you?” He asked, his word twisted with venom.

You felt you stomach drop, and you frowned, anger welling up inside of you.

“Well, when you asked me to be your partner, I thought you would at least acknowledge me when I happened to be around you! I thought I actually meant something to you, but I apparently don’t!” You yelled, shaking with frustration.

Reaper turned away from you, and you realized he was about to leave. Tears prickled the corners of your eyes, and you sniffled, your heart racing.

“Can you not realize that I love you?!” You screamed. When you noticed what you had said, your eyes widened, and you swallowed the lump in your throat. Neither of you had said that before, and you were afraid of what he would do. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that. I’m just going to go.”

You began to gather your things, your hands trembling, when a pair of arms hooked around your stomach. You froze, tears silently spilling down your cheeks, and the heat of his body seeped into your clothes.

“Don’t leave,” he whispered into your ear. Though he sounded as he always did, there was something in his voice that made your heart ache.

You wiggled and faced him, staring up at his mask. Furrowing your brow, you reached and removed it from his face, smiling when you saw the man you had fallen for.

“Say it again,” Gabriel said.

“I love you, Gabriel Reyes. I love you, I love you, I love you.” You stood on the tips of your toes and pressed a kiss to the corner of his mouth.

“I love you,” he said, and your heart skipped.

A stroll though Detroit, MI

When I was first told I was moving to Detroit I remember telling a friend, “Take a guess where I’m moving? Hint: The armpit of the world!” and they guessed, “Detroit?”  

I am now embarrassed by that conversation. Embarrassed that I was so closed minded and how I hadn’t thought twice about questioning the news and the stigma I had heard about this remarkable city.  

It is nothing like I had imagined it. 

Nothing like I had heard about it.

Nothing like I had seen about it. 

True, Detroit went through a rough time, and true there are still many abandoned homes, and indeed dangerous areas, but it’s also going through a remarkable change right now and bouncing back. 

My company is looking for office space downtown and they’re not renovating buildings fast enough for us to find anything. Town houses near my apartment (where they haven’t broken ground yet) are going for $700,000(!!!!!). Young people are moving back into the city, and every week a new store or restaurant pops up. It’s absolutely incredible to see, and I absolutely love it here. 

It’s all the perks of a large city with few people around, which results in me often feeling like it’s my own personal playground.  It’s made me think more than twice when I hear about cities in the news, and places where I’ve grown up believing are culture-less, dangerous, awful places to live. I am now sure each and everyone of those places has hidden gems and full lives being lived throughout their streets.  

I am so (so!) thankful I got to experience a place I so strongly never wanted to go to.  So thankful that with tears in my eyes, I accepted this position. 

Here a few of my favourite photos from the past few weeks of the wonderful and beautiful Detroit, Michigan, U.S.A.

Down the Rabbit Hole

Originally posted by carezero

Paring: Maknae line x Reader

Genre: Wonderland!Au / Angst / Smut / Drabble series

Rated T for mentions of drugs, madness and mature themes

Word count: 5.2k

Synopsis: It took Y/n months - years. Infinite days of searching, of wondering, of grasping to the tiny, fragile hope of not being crazy as everyone said.

(But, really, who isn’t a child of madness in this world?)

And, finally, she found it: the key to open the gates to Wonderland. So, with a smile curling her lips and liquid danger between her fingers, the girl gladly fell once again.      

Author’s note: So, dunno what this thing is, an experiment, maybe. Hope you’ll enjoy this darkish, messy lil series (but I swear this has some kind of sense in my mind).

Prelude // part 1 // part 2

Part two – the Rabbit

                   “There was not a moment to be lost: away went Alice like the wind,

                                     and was just in time to hear it say, as it turned a corner,

                                                ‘Oh my ears and whiskers, how late it’s getting!’”

The road disappears into the woods like a silent, ancient animal crawling between darkness and moonlit shadows. The Wonder it’s an eerie creature after all, yet Y/n doesn’t care, for her heart is steady just as much as her mind is crazy, and now she knows these woods are nothing more than a reflection of her own soul. Of course she could never be scared.

So, the girl breathes in the musky, mischievous air: it’s nighty and pleasant in its sliding down her lungs, almost lethargic under the sound of her feet wandering the glassy pathway. Faintly, a grin curls up on her pretty face.

Wrong way was carved into the signboard, the girl remembers as she keeps going, but really how could a road ever be wrong? Perhaps it will take her to nowhere, she wonders, lips trapped beneath her teeth. Jimin’s taste is still lingering on the right corner and her tongue just a little swipes over it to savour the last drops of impudence he left there: mmhm, a bit of evil, a bit of tenderness and – desire? love? Maybe, probably both.

Y/n smiles, small giggles bubbling up to the depth of her throat. Delicious.

And it’s exactly in that moments that she hears it, with hands clasped behind her back and eyes up to the moon she can’t see for the thick foliage. There’s a voice, that’s slicing through the forest right to her beating heart, a voice boyish and unforgettable like the first time her mouth has been kissed – actually, she still remembers the taste of sugary tea along his lips.

“Oh no, I’m late, I’m late.”

For a very important date.

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One Piece ワンピース [Dressrosa Saga] : Shichibukai Donquixote “TenYasha” Doflamingo vs Trafalgar D. Water “Surgeon of Death” Law

“So you’re a ‘D.’?! A hidden name! Are you trying to say it was Fate that brought you here? What nonsense did Corazon fill your head with?! You think being a “D.” will stop me?? That ‘God’s Natural Enemy’ crap is all just superstition!!”

Aye “TenYasha” was the realest wildcard in One Piece back in the day. Every time he came out there was an air of tangible danger. The scene where he’s about to kill Vice Admiral “The White Hunter” Smoker and Kuzan stops him but Doflamingo strikes anyways still gives me chills. Another is when the World Government sends him to assassinate Gecko Moria, that for me set him apart from the rest of the Shichibukai. Although, I must say I didn’t enjoy the Dressrosa Arc as much as I wanted to for numerous reasons, but pre-Dressrosa Doffy still holds a special place for me. I also mentioned before but I’ll say it again, Sora no Michi (the Sky Net) he uses to travel through the sky blew my mind! To the once untouchable “Heavenly Demon”!

Stalker {M}

(A/N): This is my first english smut y’all!! I’m not sure if it’s good as it looks like hehe I’d some help here ♥ I hope you guys like it! Enjoy xx - admin Mel

Rating: Mature
Pairing: Jimin x reader
Word Count: 2.3K
Warning: Demon!AU

It started a year ago. The feeling of someone watching me. My every movement followed by some unknown person. It grew stronger as the days passed, and I was never sure if I was crazy or just paranoid.

But then, the first incident happened. Preparing for sleep, freshly showered and warm, my feet padded across the floor, and I drew the curtains closed, hiding me from the streetlights outside. The dark was a comfort, usually. But when I turned, I saw it. Or him.

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The Song Is You (Chapter One)

Summary: A summer road trip with your best friend lends its way to some revelations. 

Author’s Note: This has been a long time coming, you guys!! You’ve probably been hearing Esme and I talk about our fic collab for a while now. We’re very excited to finally begin releasing this special piece to the public! All we can say now is that you will finally understand all the Monster Mash and “rick rolling” jokes you’ve heard in the last weeks. 

*** If you wanted to listen to the road trip playlist that is mentioned in this chapter, please click here!! 

Words: 4,481 

Warnings: an extremely cheesy mixtape, lame jokes, Lin showing off (so, nothing?) 

Without any further ado, welcome to the world Esme and I have so lovingly crafted for you! 

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Down the Rabbit Hole

Originally posted by carezero

Pairing: Maknae line x Reader

Genre: Wonderland!Au / Angst / Smut / Drabble series

Rated T for mentions of drugs, madness and mature themes

Word count: 4.7k

Synopsis: It took Y/n months - years. Infinite days of searching, of wondering, of grasping to the tiny, fragile hope of not being crazy as everyone said.

(But, really, who isn’t a child of madness in this world?)

And, finally, she found it: the key to open the gates to Wonderland. So, with a smile curling her lips and liquid danger between her fingers, the girl gladly fell once again.      

Author’s note: So, dunno what this thing is, an experiment, maybe. Hope you’ll enjoy this darkish lil series (but I swear this has some kind of sense in my mind).

Prelude // part 1 // part 2

Part one – the Cat

                                     “Well! I’ve often seen a cat without a grin,’ thought Alice

          ‘but a grin without a cat! It’s the most curious thing I ever saw in my life!” 

Grass tickles on her check, over her lips, and suddenly the girl’s lashes flutter open.

She leans on her palms as the legs fold under the bluish skirt of her dress and her eyes try to adapt to the dusky light. In the tilting of her head, fair hair slides along petite shoulders like silk, eliciting the tiniest of shivers on her spine: the twilight air is cold, and the starlit strands over the bare skin only enhance the chilly sensation.

It’s not exactly unpleasant, though.  

The girl raises on her feet, and her head spins a bit once she stands tall under the crescent moon; one hand flies to the left side of her forehead, palm pressing down to attenuate the low pulsing in her temple.

Where am I?

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daddy comes home and sees a band-aid on my leg
  • Daddy: What happened Princess ?! *grabs my leg and examines closely*
  • Me: *embarrassed* ummm ... I tried to shave my legs in the shower... and it bled...
  • Daddy: Silly girl, little babies don't shave their legs.
  • Me: ... but I'll be prickly like a little cactus *looks down*
  • Daddy: That's okay, Daddy doesn't mind having a cute little cactus. *hugs me and pets my head*
  • Me: *buried in Daddy's chest feeling so loved and so little*
  • Daddy: *tilts my chin up and looks at me in the eyes* wait for Daddy to help you next time. Razors are sharp and dangerous.

Natsume, had he thought about it, would have expected their class trip to go somewhere more exotic, like Okinawa. He had forgotten to revise his expectations based on the new place where he lived. To kids who grew up in the countryside their entire life, perhaps Tokyo was exotic.

He’d lived in Tokyo with a few foster families before, but since they were doing the tourist thing – hitting things like Tokyo Tower and the Imperial Palace - Natsume wasn’t too worried about running into them.

With that worry officially reason away, Natsume found himself trailing at the back of their group, trying to smother laughs at the way Kitamoto, Nishimura, and Tunama kept craning their necks back, trying to see the tops of Tokyo’s skyscrapers.

They stopped on a corner because Nishimura insisted the map said to go one way but Taki, having visited Tokyo before, said that he was wrong and getting them lost. Natsume , having lost track of where they were actually headed and therefore having no opinion himself, found himself wandering further down the street. He caught sight of Tanuma and Kitamoto doing the same as passersby began to turn to look.

Because was Tokyo and Natsume wasn’t worried about getting lost, he didn’t pay attention to where his feet were taking him until he turned into a building and a sharp shock shot up his spine. Nyanko-sensei hissed but didn’t leave his shoulder.

Natsume knew a barrier when he felt one at that point.

The building in front of him did not belong in downtown Tokyo. Unlike the buildings on either side, it was short and traditional with (for Tokyo) a sprawling garden out front. Had it been anywhere else, Natsume would have assumed it was someone’s house.

Then the door opened and two young girls peaked their heads out. And Natsume started to panic.

“I’m so sorry for intruding. I was just wandering and my feet took me here by themselves. I’m sorry, I’ll just be going-“

“We have a customer!” one of the girls, the one with pink hair, said.

“We have a customer!” the other, with long blue pigtails repeated.

And before Natsume can protest, they take him by the hands and drag him inside.

Two kids should not be that strong, he thought to himself, even as he continued to apologize. His first instinct was to assume they were some form of youkai, but Nyanko-sensei was still perched on his shoulders. He hadn’t attacked the girls, so they had to be human, right?

“A customer for the Master!”

“For the Master!”

Natsume was struck by their similarities to the Chukyuu. Finally they stopped outside a paper sliding door. They dropped his hands and, each taking a side, pulled the doors open.

Whatever it was Natsume had expected, it wasn’t what he saw.

There was a boy, not much older than Natsume himself, setting two places at a round table. Even from there, Natsume could smell the delicious food. The boy’s back was to him. When he turned around, Natsume was startled by his eyes – one blue, one gold.

“Please have a seat,” the boy said with a gesture to the closest chair.

“I’m sorry, I think there’s been some kind of misunderstanding. I didn’t mean to come here you see.”

“It was no mistake,” the boy said, taking his own seat and a sip of tea. “It is always hitsuzen.”


“Mm.” The boy took another sip of his tea. After a moment, he said, “You have a wish, don’t you?”

A wish…

Not long ago, Natsume’s greatest wish was to stop being able to see youkai. But now he had more youkai friends than human ones and Natsume couldn’t imagine his life without Nyanko-sensei or Misuzu or Hinoe or any of his other friends.

Nor did he wish for foster parents who wouldn’t hate him. The Fujiwara were the best and most wonderful people Natsume had ever met. Even though he was not their blood son, they continued to worry after him and take care of him and make him bentou to take to school.

He even had human friends! It was not something Natsume had ever expected but Tanuma, Taki, Sasada, Nishimura, and Kitamoto were always at his side if he ever needed them. He had even met Natori-san, who could see the same world that Natsume could. It was almost like having an older brother (especially the annoying, won’t-leave-you-alone part).

No, what Natsume wanted more than anything…

“There are people who I want to be able to protect,” he murmured, almost to himself.

“I see,” the boy said. He set his tea down and leaned forward, looking up at Natsume over the rims of his glasses. “And are you prepared to pay the price for that power?”


“Yes. This is a store after all,” the boy said. “A store that grants wishes.”

“For a price.”

“Yes. The bigger the wish, the more it will cost. I’m afraid that’s just common sense, wouldn’t you agree?”

This boy was setting off all of Natsume’s warning signs. And still, Nyanko-sensei was sitting silent on his shoulders. Natsume longed to ask what his protector thought, but it hadn’t been confirmed yet that this boy could see spirits. Someone else could have put up the barrier after all.

But if the boy could do what he claimed, wasn’t it worth the risk? To not have to worry about his friends and the Fujiwaras? To be able to protect his youkai friends from exorcists like Matoba?

“What would the price be?” Natsume asked.

“What you are seeking will take some time,” the boy said. “You will need to come back every few weeks for lessons.”


“No one could afford the price of instantaneous power,” the boy said. “No, you’ll have to work for it.”

“What kind of lessons?”

“A bit of this, a bit of that.”

It was impossible to try and get a straight answer out of the other boy. Like trying to catch mist, he kept dangling Natsume’s answers just out of reach.

“And the price?”

“Now that is the interesting question, isn’t it?” the boy said. He got up and came close, stopping a short distance in front of Natsume. “What do you think you might have that is worth the kind of power you are seeking?”

And just like that, Natsume knew. From Nyanko-sensei’s sudden claws digging into his shoulder, he knew too.

“I can’t give you the Book of Friends,” Natsume said. “I’ve already promised it to someone.”

“There aren’t many names left in there at this point, are there?” the other boy said. “Certainly not enough to pay for your wish.”

“There will be nothing at all by the time I get it,” Nyanko-sensei grumbled.

Natsume hushed him on instinct, but the other boy didn’t seem surprised at all to hear a weird cat speak.

That answered the question about the wards then.

“I propose a trade,” the boy said.

“A trade?”

“Of knowledge. You are more famous than you know, Natsume Takashi. Your name is known throughout the spirit world as one who can be trusted. It is rare that a human is trusted in such a way.”

“Then you’re not…” Natsume couldn’t bring himself to finish.

“I am simply myself,” the boy said. “And what I propose is this – you will share with me the stories of your contacts with the spirit world. And in turn, I will teach you what I know about spirit and the rules that govern them.”

Natsume thought about it. Was there anything that would be dangerous to share?

“Okay,” he said after a moment.

“Well then, let’s hash out a schedule,” the boy said. “My name is Watanuki, by the way.”