By: C. F. Fortner
Cold fingers
Warm skin
My hips, and bones move still
Small legs,
Big thighs,
Movement draws near,
A sleeping cat,
A snow white dog,
The hallway is never long
Slow movement,
Carpet stains,
I’m dancing in the sun rays
So sweet
So soft
The sweet melodies are here
I flow,
I move,
And Luke Hemmings plays in my ears
BY: C. F. Fortner
All that’s left are orange gummy bears
The worst kind of gummy bears
The ones that left the worst taste in your mouth…sour…and foul gummy bears
but you would eat them
memories of shifting sunlight
and laughter
your name rolling off my lips as easy as sweet runny honey, golden
you are golden, pink
pink and round plumb lips that laughter would come out,
sung like a symphony
I want to never forget those memories, so
I know you would eat those orange gummy bears
Of course, you would,
You have never feared the world
Only braved it,
And of course, you would eat those end of line
Morsels of my hatred… gummy bears
That’s just who you are
And I thank you for that I truly do,
Memories between me and you run through my head
Like an old fading camera,
The way you laughed and the way you smiled
And the heat of your head resting in my lap, as
My fingers ran through your hair so light and fluffy, just
Like the fat fluffy clouds we watched linger in the sky
Your eyes would meet mine light melting into starlight, and
You are never replaceable,
So, I know you’ll my orange gummy bears,
And the orange dinosaurs,
And the orange monkey,
And rhinos,
And what other shapes gummy snacks take
TW: lots of death
By: C.F. Fortner
In the bustling city of moving lights and fading dreams, there are always people to kill. Old, young, big, small. It doesn’t matter. This is the cycle of life, no matter who they are, no matter how important they are, everyone will die. That is my job. That has always been my job, to kill the people that needed to be killed.
Today it is an old lady that came from older money. She is ninety-two and smells of expensive perfume. Her hair has been dyed black, but the sins of regret that seep out of her soul are blacker. She wasn’t a good mother; she wasn’t a good wife. All she wanted was freedom, and so she neglected and cheated her way to where she was. She cannot cheat this; she cannot get out of this. From the moment she was born, she knew this day would come, and here it is gleaming and beautiful in all its glory.
Slowly I start to unravel her life, her dreams, her memories. Slowly I see it all and wish I never had. This part only takes a few seconds, a few seconds I will never get back. This is always the hardest part; a soul is a precious thing. It will go on and transform into new energy while still residing in the memories of people’s minds. Death is a beautiful thing, but it is also hard to kill someone when you know who they are.
The old lady takes her last breath and her head tilts slightly to the right, her mouth opens a gap, and the monitor in the hospital flatlines. I fade into the background when she walks in. I have seen her so many times at this hospital, so many times she has walked in on the death of someone else. My heart that has made its home in my chest thumps for the first time in a thousand years. She is beautiful. One day she will die too. Her long dark hair will grow lifeless, and her dark brown eyes will turn cold and dark. She’d have a mahogany casket and a big sad funeral. So many people would care about her, and so many people would pretend to as well. It’s a shame. Such a shame, that someone like her will die someday by the likes of someone like me.
The woman writes on a chart and calls a doctor into the room, I watch as she does. Her hair sways in a ponytail, and how her eyes squint intrigue me. She always has, she is an interest of mine. My next victim wouldn’t be until later. Three a.m. I had time to stay. To watch. I followed her out of the room. She makes a phone call, and types on the computer. The soles of her shoes are worn and stained. She should get new shoes. She should get a new job. This place is too dull for her, too dark for her. She shouldn’t be surrounded by the sick, by death. I should not follow her.
I am not good for her.
For hours I followed her around and around. She visits patients and treats little children with kindness and sweets, and I watch. She is extremely pretty, and nice, and I want to know her. I want to know how she feels, and what runs through her mind. I want to know her hopes and fears, and if she fears dying like most humans do. I wonder if her hands are warm and soft and if she would accept me for who I am.
No!
I must not think about that. No one will accept me, accept this. I am death, I kill, I destroy. No one will ever accept this. I should leave. I shouldn’t look at her anymore. I turn away from her and start to walk away, she would never know I’m here. No one ever would. She would never know how beautiful I think she is, how her voice sounds like a melody. I need to leave.
The clock strikes nine, and I make my way out of the hospital and take a deep breath in. The night is cold and settles into my ancient bones it is unwelcomed but clears my head, nonetheless. I cannot think about her anymore. She is simply a girl that I will never see again. I let out a breath and take a step forward, my eyes drift back to the hospital one more time and there she is walking out the door. My breath halters in my chest and I want to fizzle into nothingness and become the ground she walks on. Her hair is down, and it flows in the wind, and she has never looked more stunning. She is tired and messy, but she is the personification of beauty.
I must walk away. I must!
Her steps are soft and sound like pebbles hitting the ground every time she walks. I can’t help but watch. She stops as a chill runs through her body. She is stiff as a board, and I can’t help but think why.
“I know you’ve been watching me all day.”
I stop. Everything in my body stops, my heart, my lungs, my soul. She wouldn’t be able to see me, that would be highly improbable, but not impossible. She would have to be highly Intune with spirits and-
“Am I next?”
“Next?” My voice croaks out before I have a chance to think.
She turns to me and there are tears lining her eyes, “Yes. Are you going to kill me next?”
She thinks- why would she- “No, you’re not. I apologize it was not my intention… to scare you.”
I scare everyone.
She swallows and takes a deep breath before responding again, “Then why were you following me?”
Oh god! Why did she have to ask this? What am I supposed to say? “I uh, I thought you were…pretty.”
Pretty? Pretty. Pretty! Yes, that is a good answer. Not beautiful or exceptional, not the woman that I have found the most memorizing in centuries. I do not scare her, pretty is good. Pretty is a normal thing to say.
She laughs nervously and I swear that the sun rose just for the moment that she laughs, even if it’s a nervous one. Even though she does not like me, trust me. She laughed; I made her laugh. I want to hear it again.
“You think I’m pretty?”
I nod. My hands shake.
“What even are you? What is your name?”
What am I? So many things, I am so many wonderful dark things that I would gladly share with you, but if I do I fear you will run and never look at me again, “I am a reaper. My name is old and hard to pronounce for the mortal tongue.” She pauses and nods, “A… reaper. That explains why no one sees you I suppose.” She is silent for a second before continuing, “Did you kill Mrs. Jenkins?”
The old lady. The old lady who took everything for granted and died alone with no one to care for her, “Yes. That is my job.”
“I see,” she turns and starts to walk away.
I follow her, running to catch up to her. She has to know that it was nothing personal, that this is a professional thing, and that I do not want her to hate me. I cannot have her hate me. If she hates me then that will mean everyone, I will ever meet will hate me. I… I just want one person to want me. To see me.
“Wait! Where are you going?”
She turns and there is an icy coldness in her brown eyes that had not been there before. I knew that look, I’ve experienced that look one too many times, “Away from you.”
“Why? I didn’t do anything wrong. This is my job. You have a job, and some aspects of it you must not like, but you still do it anyway. This… this is my job. It is not perfect, but it is all I’ve ever known.”
She ignores me and continues to walk away. I cannot have her think I am a monster. I am a monster, but I can’t be in her eyes. She is the one who has to know I am not a monster. I need her to understand. Understand me. I grab her arm, and it is warm. This feeling will be seared into my memory forever.
“Leave me alone Reaper. I work with death enough. I don’t need it following me,” her voice is laced with arsenic, and if I had not been immortal those words would have killed me.
“You need to understand me!” Please! Please just understand me!
Her eyes still rage with flames of orange, yellow, and reds, “No. I don’t.”
She walks off and leaves me there alone. I am alone. I am always alone. I will forever be alone. No one will want me. No one will need me! No one will care for me! No one will ever remember me!
The fire in her eyes has traveled into my bloodstream, and it circulates around my body at impeccable speed. I need to scream, to cry, to punch something. I need to make her understand. Maybe… maybe if I show her who I am she will understand. Maybe if I show her death she will understand! She has to understand.
I catch up to her and grab her by the arm again. She is raging with heat and life and a subtle heartbeat. If I stop her heart, I know she will understand. She will know that death isn’t the end it is just a new beginning. A new way to start again, she will see my world and the world beyond my own. Yes. Yes! This is the best idea. In death, she will understand.
In her death, she will understand.
-
I hope you enjoyed this short story! It’s on of my favorites that I wrote in my creative writing class!
EVERY TIME I LOOK BACK, MY CHILDHOOD GROWS HORNS; ON AGING.
lorde // iasoup on tumblr // alain de botton // jenny slate // katie maria // silas denver melvin // chelsea wolfe
Cr. Stephanie Priscilla
All art/photos found on Pinterest:Online. If you know the original creator/is the original creator, message me so that I can give them/you credit.
You see a post like this? Where OP might hurt/kill themselves? You hit that button that I circled
Hit that.
Click Suicide or Self-harm Concern
Yes.
Fill in the rest of it, and hit submit. The "content you reported" will fill itself in
Tumblr will follow up and help them.
This could SAVE SOMEONE'S LIFE.
*reblogs the fuck out of this*
-slams the reblog button-
Senpai says you’re welcome
Not to offer advice nobody asked for but fixing ur sleep schedule is life changing
Things that actually work if u try at them:
Taking a shower if you can, putting clean clothes on if you can’t, even just a clean set of pjs. Washing your face.
A couple weeks ago I was in a major depressive slump and was feeling really detached from reality. I was trying so hard to fight it but nothing I tried worked until I realized I hadn’t listened to any happy music in almost a week.
I didn’t feel like listening to anything at all but I put on my favorite playlist anyway. Take On Me started and I finger stimmed to the keyboard riff and hummed along and by the end of the song I was smiling. A few more songs and I was fully singing along and feeling more present than I had in days.
Even if it seems small and trivial, like putting on your favorite socks or looking up pictures of kittens, it might be something you need. Of course the music didn’t solve any of the problems I was upset about, but it did help me feel like I was a person again.
This isn’t one of those “must be good to be neurotypical” posts btw, these are small and accessible steps that can really help.
One for the lads
REBLOG REBLOG REBLOG
Also!! Disabled boys and boys who are pre-hrt/surgeries are all wonderful handsome lads!!
Dream Island Tour #5 (Ōame) | by @kinoto.acnh
Fear the Unkown! I’m very impatient for Fall (AKA rewatching Over the Garden Wall season). Just like the cartoon, this island was full of both a comforting nostalgia and a mysterious dread. There was the perfect amount of inspiration weaved into this island, while still remaining it’s own thing (like Avonlea). I listened to the OTGW soundtrack while exploring and I highly recommend it.
Check out the video entry here for more details.
🌲🍄🎃Ōame -𝙳𝙰-𝟿𝟿𝟺𝟽-𝟶𝟻𝟶𝟺-𝟻𝟽𝟾𝟷 🎃🍄🌲
how what???
I’m not good with the science of this or anything (someone who knows more feel free to add) but fish can play??? Fish can play like any other animal?? People saying it couldn’t breathe, do human kids not hold their breaths to go under water for fun? It’s just the opposite. Air is water, water is air. In the same vein as a kid being thrown up and into the pool and enjoying it, the fish is playing.
okay… as someone who studies marine biology I need to clarify something:
fish are unable to hold their breaths. They literally cannot take a deep breath like mammals do.
We have lungs that can take in a specific volume of air, fish have gills that work when they are ventilated enough. There are different kinds of gills, yes. Some fish have something called ‘operculum’ which is like a cap on top of the gills, helping to protect them and increasing the water circulation through the gills. Some fish DONT have this structure and need to swim in order to be able to breathe.
But the fact that they cannot hold their breaths doesnt mean that they cannot survive without water for a while - in fact, fish can (usually) survive being without water WAY LONGER than we could survive being without air.
I cannot tell if this fish does this for fun, but it sure looks like it. But I am not a behavioural biologist, so I can’t tell for sure.
It is abundantly clear the fish is a willing participant. It’s sort of arrogant to assume animals other than humans don’t play like humans.
Im not a behavior biologist either, but I have spent a lot of time around fish and ive spent a lot of time talking to and helping people that care for fish. (Former petstore fish guy that took his job too seriously)
That fish is having fun, and fish absolutely DO have fun!
There was a regular who came into the store I worked at a lot, and he kept several varieties of chichlids, a very smart, aggressive type of fish.
He would come in and talk to me about all the drama his fish get into. The different territorial disputes they were having, who had paired off with who, who broke up (yes chichlids are like this)
But he had a jack dempsey in particular that LOVED to chase his hand around the tank, not his wife’s hand, not his friend’s hand, it HAD to be him. He said that as soon as he entered the room where this fish’s tank was kept, the fish would TEAR UP the tank decor, knocking things over and acting a fool off his shits until this dude stuck his hand in there and let the fish chase it around back and forth.
He theorized that his fish learned that if he knocked the tank decor around, his owner would obviously have to stick his hand in to fix it. So when he wants to play “chase dad’s hand” thats naturally how he knows he can get the hand to appear. He wont do this behavior for anybody but this one guy and he won’t tear up the tank anymore after he had received sufficient “play time”, usually once a day when the guy got home from work. He likened it to having a dog that wont leave you alone till you play tug o war for a bit.
I had a betta that would spend twenty minutes at a time just swimming up to the waterfall of the filter, letting it push him down to the bottom of the tank, only to swim back up and do it again, like it was a fucking slide.
Bettas are weak swimmers, and they dislike strong currents, but this guy was using the filter current like a slide. Kinda like how we don’t really like getting thrown around, but we still enjoy rollercoasters.
I also have countless stories about goldfish trying to “give hugs” (re: shove themselves into their owners hands during tank maintenance)
My betta knows how to lie and he will only beg for food in front of those he knows have not fed him yet.
There is so much evidence I’ve seen that fish are waaaay smarter and affectionate than we think. They absolutely have fun and I honestly don’t think enough studies have been done on fish brains and fish behavior in general.
And honestly, having worked in a pet store, fish are generally treated like they don’t have brains by even the fish care brands that claim expert knowledge.
Its definitely worth noting that hard scientific evidence presenting that the very opposite is true would probably lead to more robust animal welfare laws that would definitely upset the aquatics industry. Food for thought.
I think you’re absolutely right on that last point. The misconception that fish are too thoughtless to have feelings facilitates the abhorrent conditions in which they are kept and ways they are treated by the industry.
I used to have a lovely tank, I think it was 50 gallons, and among other things I kept glass catfish. All the research at the time said they were hard to keep in captivity and prone to refusing to eat and starving themselves, and that they did not live long in captivity. But I was fascinated and had to try it. It took me about three days to realize none of the literature said a word about them being nocturnal. I started feeding them at night right before bed, and had zero problems getting them to eat, saw they were incredibly active as soon as the lights went off (I have exceptional night vision) and I kept them in excellent health for years. Exponentially beyond their captive life expectancy.
I think the commercial pet fish trade is abysmal in terms of actual working knowledge of fish.
Fish Intelligence (a link at which you will also learn there is a fish called the bony-eared assfish) has been studied on a pretty broad scale, actually and there’s a lot of scientific evidence to suggest that they are very smart creatures.
please come play with @suga-suga-high and myself! we made a dsicord so that we can all chat there; please join our discord here - https://discord.gg/NfGNRy
we want to play with other armies! 💜
ok our server kicked some people out so we made a new one https://discord.gg/hCPsNf that’s the new link, please join us!!! We love meeting new people
👏🏾Education 👏🏾is 👏🏾a 👏🏾right,👏🏾 not👏🏾 a👏🏾 service 👏🏾
Pass along and use the shit out of them
Damien won't go to prom with me and honestly I feel so attacked rn
i don't know who damien is but go girl!!!
I wish I could tell you he was a real dude. But he ain't. He still won't to prom with me
Damien won't go to prom with me and honestly I feel so attacked rn
