#Constant repeat in my head

[darkcrowprincess]

[spiltcandycoatedpunkblood]

If anxiety was a doctor who episode it would just be Boom on repeat

[hopeinthebox]

tagged by the exceptional @cordiallyfuturedwight and @cosmicdreamgrl thanks ever so much my loves <33

now tagging some heroes @aprylynn @thvinyl @visionsofgideontheninth @hoseeok @btscontentenjoyer @jihopesjoint @monismochi @raplinenthusiasts <333 and everyone else

[wetpapert0wel]

i can just feel that my computer is about to kick it. firefox makes my cpu usage jump from 10% to 70% just by loading a single page.

[hsslilly-blog]

i just think having kids is not compatible with the life claire has imagined/planned for herself and she thinks she has thought it through (and so does her husband) but she only realises how wrong she was when she, like, has a child and can’t function as claire anymore.

[sassy-assassin]

My sexuality is Rei zipping up his jacket in the Buddy Daddies opening

[clumsyssoul]

noah kahan really was able to put into words what it's like to come from a small town; and what it's like to grow up in it, and how you hate everyone and everything but also love it because it's part of who you are and it's where those you love are from; but you constantly want to get out because you know there are bigger things out there; and you feel guilty about leaving and missing those you left behind but you're also proud for doing it, and you feel sorry for those who will most like never have the chance to leave but you somehow also envy them; and you feel nostalgia over a place you hated so much but you also loved so much; and ultimately you know someday you will most likely go back and it will probably feel like you biggest failure but also your greatest victory

[rigginsstreet]

The Maya Rudolph mother song is all I’ve been able to think about and will be thinking about for the foreseeable future

[ear-motif]

thank u natalie im gonna crank 2 fics outta the thoughts i had cuz of ur twilight vid

[szczylpierdolony]

life is falling through my fingers more that usually

[illmetbymoonlight]

Today I received the only real birthday card I'll get. The other is from Hallmark with a coupon.

Sometime I wonder what I did wrong in life that my life ended up being so God damned pathetic...

My birthday is in a few days and instead of being a happy occasion it's just a bleak reminder of how alone I really am.

I'll officially be in my mid thirties with nothing to show for my life. No friends. No partner/significant other. No major accomplishments. Nothing. Just a family that more than occasionally treats me like garbage and a lack of a will to live. My life is just a big void.

[the-cinnamon-snail]

.

[an-absolute-trainwreck]

*so riddled with anxiety and stress it’s starting to take a toll* i thimk. i have couvif.

[bingobongobonko]

just kinda nauseous and off tonight.idk how people can sleep sometimes. i feel like death

[yandere-romanticaa]

Seen the request, so I shall deliver. Could you pls write a drabble or hcs of a yandere sunday with an isekaied reader?

Good timing because I'm actually planning a non yan isekai fic for him, I wonder if you saw that post. Here it is in case you haven't.

Sincerest apologies if this isn't the best, this fic is 100% emotionally charged by my obsession with him and frankly with a little bit of a high for passing a tricky exam. This is a treat for myself.

EDIT: Please check out this wonderful comic that @danijaci made me based off this fic!! 😭🫶

Picking up the cup from the fine oak table, you gazed towards the eerie galaxy before you, hundreds upon thousands of stars giving you a constant reminder of just how far from home you truly were. Taking a sip from the little porcelain cup you could not help but to hum in delight, the soft notes of the tea soothing your nerves ever so lightly as you pretended to ignore the heavy gaze which lingered at the back of your head.

Even from this distance, it was easy to tell that Sunday was eager to approach you. Still, he kept his distance and made a silent offering in the form of the very tea you drank at the moment.

Anything is better than Himeko's coffee but you were never going privy her to that.

In a not so distant past, all of this was nothing but fiction. The Express, the story, the characters - it was all nothing more but fiction, something to pass the time as your days went on and on, the same monotony repeating each and every day.

It was hard to not think about your friends and family, what sane person would not? Lord knows how they must be feeling right now, worried sick out of their minds with indescribable sorrow. In their eyes you had merely vanished, not a single trace to be found. For all they knew you could have been left for dead in a ditch somewhere, beaten, bloodied and broken, never to see the light again or if they were even more inclined to be morbid, you had succumbed to a fate worse than death. Death at the very least grants you finality, that all is over regardless of what happened moments prior.

But that was simply not the case for you.

Here you were, lounging about in a comfortable chair as you pondered on your old life while enjoying tiny little luxuries, far away where none of your loved ones could reach you. However, life was funny sometimes because it had some fun games in store.

Sunday was very kind upon arrival. He made sure to always be there for you, always checking up on you, always there to keep you company. You were already smitten with him but now to actually witness him in the flesh was just... Indescribable. You got along like a house on fire, so much so that the crew liked to tease that you ought to just get a room. Sunday, ever the gentleman, would just brush their words aside and assure you to not take their playful little jabs to heart.

You wouldn't say anything, resorting to merely giving him a smile but not because of what he said but rather of what he did not - never once did he actually shut down those perverse accusations. Never, not even once did he deny them.

He became an emotional crutch, someone to whom you would come running to when things got tough and he would always welcome you with open arms. Sunday would hold you tenderly, his serene voice dripping with honey along with a tender drop of ecstasy, for his excitement with holding you would just show itself sometimes. His grip would be too tight at certain moments, never quite ready to let you leave. His hugs were warm and comforting, he always smelled so good too. He smelled like kindness and sweet wildflowers, always lulling you back to him no matter the time. In dark corners and perhaps even under the watchful eyes of the crew, Sunday would wrap his scarf around your head, securing the soft fabric in order to provide you with a sense of comfort.

It was humiliating just how much you would try to inhale his scent as much as possible. You wanted it etched deep inside your memory, you wished for it to linger on your very soul and for it to follow you everywhere you went, sticking to your being like tar. The fabric of the scarf would muffle your ears a little but someone was always chatting in the background. Be it March bickering with Dan Heng, Mr Yang scolding someone for doing something they were not supposed to, or just Conductor Pom Pom trying to give a speech, all of it was irrelevant.

You were ready to kill whoever would try to pry you away from sweet Sunday. That thought came often which had left you worried - just what kind of person had you become? Regardless, you kept your mouth shut and had no plans of sharing such violent sentiments with anyone, particularly not to the one you held so dear.

When it was time to part for the evening you would bid the crew farewell and wished them a good night. You always made sure to take a few extra seconds with Sunday, just to ease your aching soul. He would tell you to sleep well and would see you in the morning, ready to take on any endeavor that crossed your paths.

As everyone parted ways, Sunday would wander off somewhere dark and distant, somewhere no one could see nor hear him. He would fall to his knees and clutch his chest in agony, fat tears streaming down his face as he did everything he possibly could to steady his raging heart. In a rush he would reach for the scarf which clung around his neck, his grip tighter than iron as he would bring it close to his nose. Taking a large, deep breath, Sunday was greeted by your familiar scent which would promptly calm his poor heart.

He sometimes wondered if his heart would start bleeding from the pain due to the sheer intensity of his emotions.

This was wrong, everything about this was not right and it hurt. Sunday was obviously ill but he had no clue on how to fight this... This emotion, this white hot feeling of need whenever you stood by his side. He started to choke on the air around him and fell into an abrupt coughing fit but even then, he could bring himself to remove the scarf from the lower part of his face.

Sunday wept and sobbed, filthy snot coming out from his nose but he could not handle that now. He needed you, Oh Heavenly Aeons, how he needed you. However was he going to tell you how he felt? How, oh how was he going to express the sheer magnitude of his true thoughts? He would scare you off, he was sure of it.

Even with this pain, even with these clipped wings and bleeding heart, Sunday had never felt so alive, so harrowingly present in the moment whenever he was with you.

Perhaps, he was doing himself a kindness by just letting you be. Drink your tea, be at peace.

He can always just make you another cup if you so desired.

Without knowing, you both haunted each other in the most agonizing way known to mankind and neither was strong enough to face the reality of the situation.

[merakidoll]

after a long day at work your favorite thing was coming home to your very handsome, very large husband. ghostie was always the best at his housely duties - cooking, cleaning, helping you unwind; he was really good at that. after a long day of being in the stuffy office, and the headache of hearing the constant complaining of your colleagues you we’re finally in your safe space. the marble counter top helped you bend just right, your flexible body awkwardly positioned but you were getting the best pleasure out of it.

as the soup boiled on low just a few feet away you were on your island, head uncomfortably positioned as you deep throated ghost’s fat length. his cock bulging in your throat and the repeated gags and spit bubbles. while your mouth was occupied so was simon’s. your cunt was in his face, slimy wetness decorating him like a face wash, his tounge licking at anything it reached. his objective though? was making your clit so puffy and fat!

you moaned around him, vibrations sending small shivers down his spine as his took a little nip at the fat of your lip and rose up spitting his cream filled mouth back onto your thumping cunt that made a big mess. ghostie moaned, while shaking his head disapprovingly and entered two of his chubby fingers into your hole watching as they stretched you. “nasty slut” he bucked his cock deeper into you groaning at your lewed sounds, and getting his fingers to match the pace of him fucking your face. “makin a mess on my counter tops. a greedy slut who couldn’t wait hmm?” you shut your eyes tight, pussy clenching around him and your breath getting shallow making you choke at the unexpected orgasm

“f-fuck doll take it” he held your head down at the base of his dick, stuffing your throat and shuddering in sensitivity as his cum stared to overflow from your mouth. he threw his head back fucking his fingers into your faster - an unimaginable pace that he knew he was making a mess with your messy insides. his kept his cock stuffed in your warm mouth but unmoving - he used his now unoccupied hand to slap your puffy clit chuckling darkly at your cries when squirt started making yet another mess on his marble.

ghostie was the absolute best at being a house husband. holding your naked body against his own, trying not to touch your sensitive clit as he held you like a baby mixing the warm soup that was now ready!