❀‎ܓ(｡◠ ꇴ ◠｡ )

[lapt0pp]

how to grow the fuck up

[friendliness]

Home

what the hell is a mortgage?

first apartment essentials checklist

how to care for cacti and succulents

the care and keeping of plants

Getting an apartment

Money

earn $50-$100 by taking surveys

how to coupon

what to do when you can’t pay your bills

see if you’re paying too much for your cell phone bill

54 ways to save money

How to do Your Own Taxes

Health

how to take care of yourself when you’re sick

things to bring to a doctor’s appointment

how to get free therapy

how to prevent a hangover

a list of stress relievers

how to remove a splinter

Emergency

rights when cops pull you over

a list of hotlines in a crisis

things to keep in your car

how to do the heimlich maneuver

Job

time management

create a resume

find the right career

choosing a major

job interview tips

how to stop procrastinating

How to write cover letters

Travel

ultimate packing list

traveling when you have no money 

best way to pack a suitcase

how to apply for a passport

how to make a travel budget

Better You

read the news

leave your childhood traumas behind

how to quit smoking

how to stop skipping breakfast

how to stop micromanaging

ways to get better at asking for help

how to stop being a pushover

learn another language

how to improve your self-esteem

how to sew

reasons to stay alive

small daily goals

[eatingdisorderssuck01]

Imma need this eventually cause they don’t teach you jack squat in school

[sanders-sides-uncorrect-quotes]

Ima schedule to reblog this when I’m 16.

[mxdragonturtle]

Ima need this eventually

[ace-lost-in-motherfucking-space]

same fam.

[angelmavmurdock]

reblogging so i have it for when i leave school in a year yessir

[the-haiku-bot]

reblogging so i

have it for when i leave school

in a year yessir

Beep boop! I look for accidental haiku posts. Sometimes I mess up.

[yes-im-youtube-kids]

will need this in future

[littlebeanprotector]

I might even need some of these now

[daysleftofsecondterm]

Helpful on 1,111 days left

[musashi]

Hey can you guys reblog Cheeseburger so he can take a sunbeam nap on lots of blogs. No other reason I just want you guys to see him.

[kei-kuznetzov]

i ❤️ sneezing obnoxiously loud

[fuck-all-governments]

[csleko]

I like the rock.

[darusen]

the floating head of wisdom

[toe-fingerman]

Please don't fall victim to internet misinformation. There is no floating head. It's a regular horse, it's neck is just hidden due to the position of the camera. I made an image to help you understand the what's actually going on.

[pride-knightess]

Thank you for the clarification

[poppytheaxolotl]

gif by @l_xrics on twitter

[kei-kuznetzov]

meow

[my-dailydreams]

[s-ghost-r]

Simon carried you a lot in the beginning.

The apocalypse's lack of regular food had left you malnourished and the lack of sunlight left your bones feeling weak and raw. The pain was chronic, a marrow-deep ache that became as familiar to you as the ash caked mask that never left your face.

Simon moved quickly through the wastes, a wraith slinking from shadow to shadow. Even with you on his back his pace was never anything less than the flash of darkness in the corner of the eye. The weight of you is anything but. He had never felt lighter, more present, alive than when he found you. He carries the idol of all that makes humanity worth saving on his back.

When night falls, he hides you away. The nights in the wastes are beyond freezing, without some sort of shelter or heat source frostbite will take pieces of you in the time it takes for morning to arrive. The places he takes you are always empty. Simon survives in the liminal spaces between civilization and isolation, life and death, ruthelessness and pragmatism and that is were he takes you as well. These points of in-between being the only places he can keep your light from being extinguished in a world that wants for nothing else.

He bundles you up with an almost pious manner. Reverent in the nightly ritual. Every night he swaddles the two of you together in the little den he makes for you. Dark, quiet, hidden, the mass of him between you and the entrance to whatever little pocket of the world he's carved out for you. The heat of him against you, the only other sign of life in this wintery purgatory, is nearly scalding.

Simon's protection is a physical thing, you feel the weight of it draped over your shoulders just as solidly as your blankets and just as warm. Your death-faced sentinel, holding vigil as if that duty bestowed was the first and last thing spoken by whatever silent god this wasteland belonged to.

It comes in the form of the dark knives hidden all about his person, in the long rifle that hangs from the front of him but has never been fired in your presence, in the way his gloved hands anchor you to him like his palms cupped around a flame against a smothering wind.

It's in the way he says, "Sleep, sunshine. I've got you." It's in the way you believe him when he does.

[blvkvholic]

[jenjenthevirgo]

HAPPY BLACK HISTORY MONTH!!! 🎉🎉🎉🎉

[threaded-in-feelings]

Happy Melanin March and Women's History Month!

[spiltspit]

first animation attempt

[dogpuppy]

[imjunebitch]

oh :( that's fluff :( that's fluff of my torture character :(

[crashingcryptid]

Ghost stays around for a few days. He's unbelievably quiet, even more so than Simon is. He refuses to sleep in the same room as you if he sleeps at all. At least he eats when he tells you to, so you take that as a win.

You could hear thunder rolling in the distance as you started making dinner, taking a glance at Ghost. Simon didn't like thunderstorms. He would always wear his headphones during them, sometimes laying down with a weighted blanket until the worst of it past. Ghost didn't seem like he would accept much comfort. He barely allowed himself rest, why would he give himself a blanket?

The next rumble of thunder shakes the windows slightly, and Ghost's jaw tenses immediately. "What do you need?" You ask quietly, setting the spoon you were stirring the soup with down. "Simon's stuff might work if you want to try."

Ghost shakes his head and stands up. He turns off the stove, moving the soup off the burner before moving you to the bedroom. You let him guide you into the closet where he joins you, shutting the door quickly behind him. You sit still in the dark closet for a few minutes before slowly reaching out for Ghost's hand.

He jumps for a second when you touch him but immediately squeezes your hand. "It's safer in here." He whispers, pulling you closer until you crawl into his lap.

"We can stay as long as you need."

Part 1

[k1tk4ttt]

How it feel to finally accept and embrace the cringe of reading x reader fics

[fr0st33]

MIA Reader- Ghosts Letter

————————————————

Simon,

I don’t know if you’re alone while you read this.

I think you probably are.

You’re good at being alone, even when you don’t have to be.

If this letter made it into your hands, then I need you to do something for me before you read another word.

Breathe.

I mean it.

Because I know you. I know how fast your mind runs to all the ways you could’ve changed the ending, all the places you could’ve stood differently, all the shots you’d replay until they haunt you.

Stop.

None of them would’ve saved me.

And if you try to carry it like they would have, you’ll bury yourself somewhere I can’t follow.

I won’t have that.

You hear me?

Good.

Okay.

Now I can say the rest.

—

I was scared of you when we first met.

Not in a bad way. Just in that wide-eyed, heart-in-your-throat way you get when you stand too close to a storm and realize it could swallow you if it wanted.

You were tall and quiet and wrapped in shadows, and I swear to God, Simon, I walked around half dazzled by you like some giddy schoolgirl with a crush on the mysterious boy in the back of class.

It was ridiculous.

You barely spoke, and I was already gone.

I thought the mask was everything. The reputation. The danger. The way people straightened when you entered a room.

I mistook armor for the man.

I’m sorry for that.

Because then I got to know you.

And Simon?

You ruined me for anyone else.

You with your terrible, dry humor that sneaks up when no one expects it.

You with the way you hover near doorways like a guard dog pretending he isn’t guarding.

You with your silence that somehow says more than most people’s shouting.

You notice everything.

You remember things people think you forget.

You show respect by giving space, by standing watch, by stepping in without being asked and never asking for thanks.

The first time I realized you had moved yourself between me and danger without a word, I couldn’t sleep for hours afterward.

No one had ever protected me so quietly before.

No one had ever made it feel like I was worth the effort.

I started looking up to you then.

Not the legend.

Not the mask.

You.

Simon Riley, who carries ghosts and still finds room to be gentle with the living.

I loved that man.

I loved him so much it scared me.

—

And I know what you’re going to do with this.

You’re going to fold it up small. You’re going to tuck it somewhere safe. You’re going to pretend reading it didn’t rip something open.

But later, when you think no one can see you, you’re going to blame yourself.

You’ll call it tactical failure. Missed signs. Bad luck.

You’ll try to make my death make sense in a way that punishes you.

Don’t.

I made my choices. I stood where I stood because I believed in the people beside me.

Because I believed in you.

If I could go back, I’d stand there again.

I need you to live with that instead.

Let me be something you were allowed to love, not something you lost.

There’s a difference.

—

I hope, someday, you take the mask off for someone and let them see what I saw.

I hope they fall for you the way I did—slow and helpless and grateful.

I hope they understand that the quiet isn’t emptiness.

It’s care.

It’s patience.

It’s the sound of a man who has survived and still chooses not to become cruel.

Thank you for letting me close enough to learn that.

Thank you for every step you took toward me, even when it cost you.

I never said it out loud, but I carried it with me on every mission:

If Simon is here, I’ll make it home.

I’m sorry I proved that wrong.

But it was the safest I ever felt.

Goodbye, Lt.

Goodbye, Simon.

You were my hero in ways you never asked to be.

Always,

— [X]