I'm alive. Explanations to come. I'm not dead.
🪼

Andulka
NASA
ojovivo
d e v o n
Lint Roller? I Barely Know Her
todays bird

roma★
No title available
No title available
dirt enthusiast

Discoholic 🪩

No title available
Claire Keane
PUT YOUR BEARD IN MY MOUTH
KIROKAZE

JBB: An Artblog!
wallacepolsom
Xuebing Du

oozey mess

seen from Germany
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from United States
seen from France

seen from Canada
seen from Japan
seen from United States

seen from United States

seen from France

seen from France
seen from Japan

seen from Finland
seen from Singapore

seen from Indonesia
seen from Saudi Arabia

seen from Australia
seen from T1

seen from Hungary
seen from Germany
@protegerex-blog
I'm alive. Explanations to come. I'm not dead.
So I woke up with a sick inducing migraine. I haven’t been able to look at my phone all day, and it’s been a huge mess. I’m sorry–I wasn’t anticipating this. I’ll be back as soon as I can to make good on what I said I would.
like for a starter!
I promise you, if you need us -if you need me-
I’ll be there.
There she was, at 4am, in your bed. You loved her then, didn’t you? She was wearing your duvet like a cape, with her head poking out. She loved you back; she really did. You said, “I don’t know what to do. I’ve never met anyone like you.” She said simply, “kiss me.” So you did. You lifted her chin and kissed her mouth and swallowed her giggles whole. You felt her sunshine fill your lungs as she wrapped her arms around your neck. You felt the duvet fall as she leant forward. “Tell me a secret,” she said. She was always saying these things. “I’ve told you everything already,“ you said. Your lips were on her neck. “Tell me a secret,” she repeated. “Okay,” you sighed, “I love you.” “Tell me a secret.“ “I’ve always loved you.”
Sue Zhao (via blossomfully)
@protegerex
(via viragod)
can someone please help me contact @killchained ?? PLEASE.
kiss was granted without forward thinking or apology / actions of a man who RARELY considered consequence before striking. flushed cheeks held some semblance of aware towards passionate gesture and, more over, the effects / not some chaste expression, not meaningless. indicative of something buried beneath the surface, in that G R A V E Y A R D within her chest / warmth there suddenly, as if it were the sun and she could believe flowers had been in bloom. question struck her ( do you want me or don’t you ? )
answer was simple, as if truth had been honey on her tongue for the span of eight decades. ❛ ‘course i do. ❜ muttered against lips still hovering / neither compelled to move forward or retreat. happy in it’s suspended existence. ❛ i just can’t. ❜
@protegerex / sc.
The better part of a century spent with shared experience, it was a rarity did such brazen affections, yet it was not the first time she has accosted him with such feverish lips and undeniable heat. It dizzied him, hands moving on instinct to find the small of her waist as lips seek to capture the embrace, to dwell within their quiet reality that would soon come crashing down around him. He wondered each time this has happened, is today the day they don’t deny themselves such simple but world altering pleasures. Too soon it ends in a bitter parting, his hands tensing against her body, as if to beckon her back into the warmth of his touch.
He spoke so quickly, unable to stop himself as each toying moment weighed on his chest all the more. Was this a game she sought to play? Was it just her way of finding her comforts without committing? It wounded him, each moment shearing away a part of him until it all collapsed inward. God, she was warm as enticing words fluttered upon his lips with withholding sentiments and he could feel his skin igniting with a buried want he’d thought still dormant.
❛ why not? ❜ He shivered, feeling his own lips moving to capture hers once more to regain what he felt he was losing. Not yet, he begged silently within the throes of his mind. Just a few moments longer as steady hands balled her shirt within his fists. ❛ it’s been years. i can’t keep doin’ this. ❜ But couldn’t he? Denying her proved to be an impossibility for they continuously found themselves here. But something’s gotta give.
do you ever feel like you love a character more than their own writers do
caroline:
HE LOOKS AT HER, and she realizes in that brevity that she wasn’t prepared for this. for him. for the way her heart would bloom again and flourish in this absence’s waning eclipse. it’s a lot at once. so much that she’s nearly nauseated by the swell of it. and yet, it’s easily one of the best things she has ever felt. she grants him her forgiveness without a second thought. too eager, perhaps. in every version of this moment played out in her head, never has she scripted an apology or expected an explanation for the way he had been severed from her life. was she curious ? anyone would be. worried ? more than he could fathom. but ultimately, she was too wrapped up in the bittersweet thought of returning herself to an embrace she missed so much.
“ yeah, it has. ” she speaks with a dulcet inflection, movement delicate as she folds into the neighboring chair. she’s so soft, one could think him likely to run if she spoke too loud or acted too quickly. she hopes that isn’t the case. “ over a year. ” not that she was counting the days. gaze is cast upon him, her mouth flattened into a thin - lipped smile. like the opposing poles of two magnets, her own hand is drawn toward his proximity. thankfully, for her sake, she’s just reluctant enough to keep it restrained.
“ how are you ? i mean, you look … good. ” so many things to say, to ask. she hardly knows where to begin.
SAINTHOOD OUGHT TO BE OFFERED, the gentle way she remained within his gravity without a harsh word thrown in his direction which would be less than he deserved. While it was no secret that they dwelt within a world that was hardly ordinary, he still knew that normalcy was what they had once craved in one another. When the world around them continued to turn for the worst, they had sought solace in the fact that while they were both abnormal, they themselves could form something close to the normal lives they had long since been torn from.
“ I’m alright, thanks. I--you look amazing. “ There was no sense in lying when it was the truest thing he could ever say. As a wounded gaze looked to her, noting how hard she was trying to maintain her composure, when all he wanted to do was fall apart, he knew he owed her any answers she might ask for. It ached in the cavity of his chest, begging to just admit that he had been wrong, but he had done it for the right reasons. His mouth ran dry, his chest seizing as he found the air to finally speak again.
“ I called so many times-- “ But never remained on the line long enough to speak, to try and quell any worry or fear she may have been holding on to as the days turned into weeks, the weeks into months. “ I couldn’t compromise my position--please know that it wasn’t anything you did. “
Fingertips flinched in the active attempt to keep from invading her personal space, knowing he’d relinquished any right to touch her when he allowed the continued silence to remain. All he knew was the how and the whys, but he could never truly apologize for the simple fact that he’d left. Even if for good reason.
like for a starter!
jo:
the news being on so loud was less to hear and watch and more to just shut out anything that wanted to go through her head from coming through. she’s adept to the concept of shutting it all down and making movements mechanical. so that’s all there is. johanna knows the news stories, and by now there’s no new information so they just keep rotating the same points. she doesn’t need the random interjections and opinions of strangers. what she needs is to be ready to leave. they all do. because he’ll be back soon. she knows that. no other room in her head for the sticky cobweb kind of thoughts. no other room in her head to consider for a moment if he didn’t. just her hands sorting through the final things to pack ( clothes to wear in case it’s gonna be another day before he comes around, toys and food for the dogs -–– she’s been living out of the suitcases for two days now, watching and waiting and ready. )
patriot stays near her, silent and watching with a protective calm that she came easily to love and depend on of the canine. she loves them both equally, and lets taco run off when he feels like doing so. barely pays it any mind. but what she does notice is that it takes patriot’s attention fully. it’s what stops her hand. reaching out, she turns the news on mute and tries to listen. patriot does as well and she nods for him to run down the hall like he wants to. there is no sounds of struggle, so she instantly tries to tamp down the way her mind grows weeds in the thoughts of it being too late, that it took him too long, that someone came looking for him and found her and the two dogs instead.
in the hallway, she put her axe. maybe she was losing it, and this was an unnecessary and paranoid step -– it didn’t matter. she learned early on in her life that seemingly ridiculous measures were the difference between survival and death. her scope of who to keep alive just expanded. the desperation that kicks in instantly at the idea of any of them threatened -–––– . she pauses at one of her plants, something she hadn’t packed and hadn’t had the heart yet to kick to the curb, when she hears his voice. a breath pauses in the back of her throat, heavy or something, and she moves forward. her paranoia and anxiety at the edge of stomach threatening to leave if she could just see him, and despite those feelings her footsteps are still as quiet as they always are.
steve is crouched to the floor, petting the husky when she finally sees him. patriot’s on her side and soon enough joining to greet him. she can’t help but want to join, too.
❛ she’s home. ❜
moving to where he is, eyes searching over the skin that she can see for wounds, she sighs when she drops to a crouch right next to him. her hands reach to hold his face. home is a heavy word, and not something she ever thought she could truly find. but they made it in this place they’re going to have to leave. they made it together.
❛ -–– and you are, too. ❜
Guilt was a pervading emotion that seemed to grasp a hold of his mind and refuse to release him no matter how hard he tried. In the days, weeks even that he had been forced to leave Jo and the boys behind, he’d been made a great many things. And one perpetuating label that he had never thought would be attributed to him in the entirety of his life. A fugitive. Someone who had been regarded as the pinnacle of the American Way, but what was that anymore? The good ol’ days, though incessantly flawed, never prepared him for the America he was now a part of. One where the government would see to it that he be used as the weapon he’d been intended to be all along. To be at the gate, waiting for instruction, unsure if this mission would be the one he could no longer tolerate the shock collar vicing his airway. They would not be able to do the good they promised to do, if someone was pulling their strings.
It wounded him, day in and day out to see his name plastered across television screens and newspapers with such a vile word attached. But even then he would not be made to feel as though he had made the wrong decision. He could be called arrogant, idealistic, wrong all they wanted but he wasn’t going to disparage his beliefs to follow the crowd and obey. Not when he knew it wasn’t the truth path.
But as he watched Patriot bound down the hallway toward where he crouched before his brother, he felt that familiar tug of guilt within his chest again. Large hands were immediate in their purchase of fur, pulling his companion into his embrace as he exhaled sharply. As he felt the familiar lap of affection from Patriot as it mixed with his own gentle whine, he knew that she could not be far behind. Could he face her without losing all sense of his own composure? Would his own feelings of turmoil conquer him finally and reduce him to the mess that he could scarcely hold together? He had little time to contemplate this as he watched her step before him if only briefly to address his previous question. His mouth ran dry as moist cobalt hues found her slight frame, feeling his skin ignite and his hands release their dog from his grasp.
And in that moment she has him, her smaller form bent before him as soft hands frame his features within their grasp, reminding him that he was indeed, home. He breathed, shakily as his own hands reached out to find the narrow of her neck, feeling her skin as his thumbs followed the curve of her jawline. Home, a relative term when you could no longer call a stationary place home. For home now resided within her and their boys. If only he could find a second to breathe it in.
“ ----I’m sorry. ” He choked, knowing he didn’t have time to be this way, but he cannot seem to switch it off. His palms paved their way to cradle her face within them, feeling the apples of her cheeks. “ ----I didn’t mean to be gone for so long. “
Early Risers & All Nighters
bruce:
For the Bae | @protegerex
Science, it is said, is built on the late night revelations of those with too little sleep and too much inspiration. But that’s not quite true, not really. Not when time is subjective and math theoretical, the clock an invention of the human mind. Because there are late nights, and then there are Late Nights. The kind of late nights that don’t even feel like evening. Where Bruce forgets the hour, the position of a sun or moon, even the world beyond the four comforting walls of his laboratories. Where all that matters, however briefly, are the numbers and schematics on his digital displays, the prototypes generated in his holographic testing environment, the results reflected in his black rimmed spectacles. Results are like lifeblood, like caffeine. A better endorphin-high than any hit from heroine or cocaine. And Bruce would know. On nights like that, nights that turn into days and days again, the physicist found it all too easy to ignore the needs of his (still very human) body. At least, he found it easy until it wasn’t. And that crash came hard. Which put Bruce in the here and now, holding a marker halfway lifted to the digital whiteboard before him, quite literally having forgotten what he was about to write. He blinked blearily, flickered his gaze from the blank patch of board to the near illegible scrawl he’d written previously. Oh dear. What time was it? What… what day? As though emerging from a particularly jarring carnival ride, Banner stumbled back from the whiteboard. He palmed a jaw darkened with bristle and winced, knowing it meant more than just a day’s passing. Turning with a ruffled sort of hopelessness, the scientist thought of the Avenger’s kitchen one floor down and murmured. “….coffee?… coffee.”
A newspaper rested upon the marbled counter top before the sentinel of the Tower, looking preoccupied in thought. Was it a news article that held over his attention or was it the any number of things that seemed to traverse in and out of his mind in record speeds that even he himself could no longer distinguish between? Even so, the sound of approaching feet are enough to warrant a pause in his persistent thoughts to watch as Bruce made his way for the coffee pot without so much as a passing glance.
“Rough morning?” He greeted, a hint of playfulness in the other man’s tone as his own hand reached for the mug that rested only a few inches away from the sprawled out paper. He had just made it, so it would be one less step for the scientist to trudge through to gain the needed boost from the caffeinated beverage.
For days, even weeks, Bruce was often tucked away in that lab, doing more research than even Tony himself. There were times Steve wondered if more often than not, Bruce preferred the smooth, chill of laboratory tech to forced social interaction. Between missions, it was often quiet here. For those who had no other home to go to when they triumphed, it often lead to interactions such as this one. But at least with Bruce, Steve didn’t feel as if he needed to be on the defensive.
“It’s fresh, I made it a couple minutes ago.”
tony:
protegerex
“Captain. Everything going all right?”
“ Do I look anything to the contrary? “
He wasn’t trying to sound indignant, it just came out that way.
wanda:
@protegerex
—— 〖✹〗; only my OWN
❝What is that SMELL?❞ a nasily voice came from her lips, ❝Wait are you cooking?❞
“ Well, that’s done wonders for my confidence. “
He chides in innocent jest as cobalt hues drift from the rather mangled meal attempt. He wouldn’t bother to call it food anymore.
“ I was attempting, but-- “
A gesture was thrown in the direction of his failure before looking back to her with a lifted brow.
“ Got any better ideas? “
I promise you, if you need us -if you need me-
I’ll be there.
caroline:
FINGERTIP TAPS AGAINST his shoulder, rosy cheeks dimpled sweetly at the corners of her grin. it’s been too long since she last crossed paths with this familiar stranger. she hopes that he will be as happy to see her as she is to see him. “ excuse me, is this seat taken ? ” / @protegerex
KNEE JERK REACTION was to turn on the sudden invasion when he had been trapped in his own reverie, but it was who awaited him as the world came into focus that was far more deserving of a positive reaction. the sun captured her hair almost too well as the soldier twisted in his seat to look at her, to really look at her. “ caroline-- “ he wanted to reach out to her, to touch her hand, but he wasn’t sure what was allowed after all this time. she is smiling ever so brilliantly as she always has and it twisted his insides into knots. “ i’m sorry--“ it fell from his lips so quickly, so earnestly as his brow furrowed into a harsh line. how do you apologize to someone you care for about disappearing? how do you explain that it wasn't her fault but a matter of life or death without it sounding like a line? he was terrible at this and it showed in the way he looked away, unsure of what to do with his hands. " it's been a long time..."
logan:
❛ hey ! this fuck up is on you, TEAM LEADER. ❜
@protegerex / sc.
❛ doesn’t that defeat the point of teamwork? footing blame? ❜