#TESTS DONE MENTAL HEALTH THE BEST IT'S BEEN IN A BIT LET'S FUCKING GO

[elliethecat]

some cookies and hot chocolate for when you come back from your tumblr break ^-^ 🍪🍪🍪☕

Omg thank you Sam ArtsyBook you're so kind <3 /p

I'm back y'all, and I'm feeling better than ever! I've missed y'all </3

I think the main thing that was trashing my mental health was the occasional depressing post here and irl stuff (I'm done with my big science, math, and english tests >:D) so I'll probably just filter out the occasional tag here and there and deal with irl stuff.

I'm so glad to be back, y'all. Tonight let's do shit that gets us in cringe comps! >:D /lyr

[greenunoreversecard]

Update

hey y'all

Uh so...... I haven't done my requests, and I am so, so fucking sorry about that.

Ive been struggling with some stuff and have debated sharing it on here, but that would mean admitting the issues affect me.

But I've decided to just say it.

Recently, I got diagnosed with hEDS (hypermobile ehlers danlos syndrome)

Which was honestly expected. I've done mild research on it, and it makes sense, and it also just verified my copious amounts of joint pain is not me being dramatic.

I was also told I had dysautonomia. While I do have a vast portion of the symptoms for POTs (postural orthostatic tachycardia syndrome), I did not test positive as my heart rate evened out after a few minutes and stay that way. And so, because of that, I have to go to a specialist to make sure it's not anything to bad.

this one was somewhat expected I just didn't think it would be as serious as it's become. I thought it was normal.

but hey! at least I have my explanations?

another thing, I recently got told I have a small abnormality in my neck spinal area and that I have to go see a neurosurgeon just to make sure I get cleared for a physical therapy which is recommended for people with hEDS.

so I guess I've just been spending this time trying to finally let myself admit that I am not as strong as I wish I was in that these things do affect me and that they do have an emotional impact on me.

I've also been figuring out ways to minimize pain and such and what things best work for me to help keep me as normal as possible.

as I said, it's all stuff I had inklings of, it just it's really hitting me that I'm not necessarily normal to the fullest extent. And so I've kind of gotten very all over the place.

I'm not trying to make excuses I will get those done eventually and y'all already know that my posting schedule is fuckin- all over the place but I'm just saying it may take a bit more time as I grapple with my physical health affecting my mental health.

sorry for the rant and if it got sad and shit.. uhmmmm...... Whoops?

[faeralcatmeems]

Art vs Artist... Part 1 (because I have a Part 2 but I can't post it until the 31st and you'll see why)

i haven't been doing very well for a very, very, very long time in mental health. and now i'm might as well be one step in the grave to all the youngins of the internet, so like, i'm not gonna do any better. and yet, overall, i also am doing better? the key is to find ways to replenish and sustain your hope. well, i'm not really sure what are those ways for me, but ONE of the 190384203948 things i did must've worked, because i'm still alive, lol.

FOR REAL, this year was a rough one. every year bests the previous one. i'm terrified of 2025 and the years after that. which is why i don't think about it, ever. but ALSO this year was also a year of surprises of all kinds--it's the year i tried really hard to connect to other people (with much varying success until i decided to part ways because it just wasn't for me), i completed a LOT of comics (see above / scroll down this blog / go to my patreon for proof), painted a lot more, did my first out-of-state con, got to meet a lot of people i admired (ryukishi!!!!!!!!! was one of them!!!!!), and much, much, much more.

i told a friend that i wasn't going to do the trend, but as i said that, i knew i was going to. reverse self-sabotage. you see, i had a suspicion that if i actually went through one of my discords (which is the most complete log of art i do, although it really isn't complete--i draw a lot and then i forget that i do it), i'd discover how much i've done this year. how much growth. (funnily, shortly after i wrote this paragraph, i checked my ipad and was like OH YEAH I DRAW ON THIS THING TOO and saw a bunch of art i never saved anywhere and looked at again, so all was forgotten. and let's not even talk about the traditional art i drew and also forgot i did...)

my dedication to my craft and my ambitions was really, really tested this year, and it's only going to get rougher from here. but when i do something as dumb (and, for fuck's sake, finally shorter!) as aesthetic tit, when probably a few months from now i look at KiaF CH2, i'm certain i will be reminded of how much i love storytelling and how i really wouldn't want it any other way.

anyway, i did my best to pick my personal favorites of 2024. i really am baffled... did i really make nicknames this year? (yes). and new year's trick??? (also yes.) and both of the birthday comics??? (yep, yep, yep.) like holy shit i am a (pardon me for my language) motherfucking powerhouse son of a bitch comics monster!!!!!!!!!! why do i keep forgetting this lol. why do i want to do bad things to myself and just quit existence when i am capable and powerful and i know i'm gonna get more powerful, so powerful that people will fall to their knees at the sight of my art?? (okay this is a bit delusion, but your enby can have a bit of delusion as at treat, right?)

let's say thank you for all of the amazing art, 2024 mimi! may 2025 be even more awe-inspiring and less existentially debilitating! just a little, please...

[leviiattacks]

I loved Ceo Levi so can I request Ceo Levi comforting the reader because she’s in financial trouble? Idk the plot it’s up to you but that sort of idea. I hope it’s not too much of a bother!! Also happy birthday ❤️

author note :: very rushed and not that great at all but i hope it’s enjoyable anon !! also thank u for the birthday wish <333 if you’d like for me to idk expand on this request you can always request again my ask box is open !! <33333 word count :: 1.5k

levi’s worried about you

like super worried

ultra worried

mega, super, ultra worried?????

all the synonyms for large aren’t enough to explain how distracted he is whilst he stares at you from across the table.

the entire team meeting today you’ve sat down with a glazed expression, you’re clearly out of it and don’t want to be present

on a few occasions he notices you gnaw at your lips anxiously and your eyes shift everywhere showing you’re clearly uncomfortable

team meetings are normally two hours long on a monday to discuss production plans extensively but levi can’t even make it to the thirty minute mark before he’s dismissing everyone

“we’re ending early i don’t feel well.”

mr ackerman letting the team leave early again... it’s the second time he’s done it now but HEY, the employees have no complaints!!

levi knows something’s bothering you when you don’t move an inch from your seat

you probably haven’t even heard what he said about leaving because you’re so zoned out

now,,,,levi’s never really been big on physical contact and he’s not great at comforting or using words either but he still double checks the door is locked so he can speak to you privately

you start sobbing as soon as the sound of the door clicks

“y/n, what’s wrong?” he’s cautious in his approach but places a hand on top of yours gently to test the waters

but you only start crying even more ?!?,!,

which panics him because oh my god what did he do...???,?.

did he do something wrong???

you know what, he’s just going to copy what people do in the movies and hope it goes well

your sobs echo through the room and he thanks himself that the cement walls are definitely thick enough for you to not be heard by your colleagues

slowly but gradually you get a grip and it almost looks like you have to force yourself to a halt midway just to wipe the tears at your eyes

it’s at times like these that levi thanks you for having an expressive face because he would hate to not notice you felt this horrible

“i suggest you carry on if you haven’t got it all out yet. from personal experience it’s better when someone sits with you.”

levi’s warm words embrace you and you look at his arms then his heat pressed suit. he’s in a completely different world compared to you and a feeling of sickness soon overpowers the warm feeling in your chest

why are you sitting here and crying like a pathetic fool in front of your boss??

ok, maybe he’s a little more personal than a boss you aren’t sure what he really is but that doesn’t matter

“y/n, i have something to say.”

FUCK. this is it. you’ll be fired for being unprofessional and improper. this is IT. the end of your professional career.

you want to run out of this room at full speed and hurl yourself out of one of the windows never to be seen again...

but,, you won’t do that, that’s embarrassing

instead you steel yourself and look at him with as much courage as you can muster (which to be clear is not very much)

“if you ever need to take a day off for mental health reasons you’ve always been allowed to so please feel free to take the rest of the day off if you’d like.”

he’s... not firing you?

“but before that, would you like to let me know what’s happened? can i maybe help?”

you purse your lips feeling the premature humiliation

he can help, anyone with as much money as him can but you don’t want him to aid you. the guilt would eat you away

but you do want to confide in him and tell him what’s wrong

you want to tell someone about it at least

“i’ve been evicted from my apartment” your voice is barely above a whisper and levi just looks at you mouth agape

he pays you enough to live comfortably

how could you be getting evicted?

“i have to pay for my mother’s medical expenses so it’s stressful i send most of my earnings hom-”

levi shushes you with his input. “i’ll pay off the debt so you don’t be evicted and i’ll also give you a pay rise.”

at that you’re just pure shocked

is he even thinking right now???

because this isn’t the strong willed strategic business man you know

“no??? i can’t leech off of you??”

“you’re not leeching. i am investing in you.”

you’re a little lost now but choose to hear him out

“you work for me already and i greatly value your work. now you’re in a tough position. correct?”

you nod your head in response

“and for you to still work for me you’ll need a home. correct?”

again you nod

“so allow me to pay off the debts. it’s for both of our benefit.”

that however really isn’t levi’s reasoning at all. he couldn’t care less about that, he just doesn’t want to see you shoulder the pain and stress of it all alone

staring at him teary eyed you sniffle

“would you-” your voice cracks and you cough “really???”

you look so desperate and vulnerable and levi feels frustrated for not spotting the warning signs of your struggle any sooner

you had been coming to the office looking more restless, you had been drinking more coffee and despite the excessive caffeine consumption he still caught you dozing off at your desk at least four times

he places a hand on the centre of your back and pats you three times as if you’re members on the same ship

“yes i mean it, take it easy.”

his simple sentence is enough to cause all of your rational thinking to jump away and you drag him in by the neck into a tight hug

you’re ugly crying and you know you’ll look back on this in embarrassment but your mind works on impulse, you’re unable to stop it

usually levi doesn’t like anyone messing up his suits but he can make an exception for you. he’s sure your tears have left a moist patch but he’s not mad. hell, even if you get snot on his expensive dress shirt he’ll be okay with it

“is there any way i can pay you back mr ackerman?”

he winces at the formality of your tone

“call me levi.”

your brows raise at the request

“that’s what i want in return. for you to call me levi.”

????

that’s all???

“oh, well thank you levi. i’m grateful...”

his name rolls off your tongue awkwardly the first few times and even he regrets asking you to call him by his first name

but three days later you’re walking in breezily. a pen is tucked behind your ear and you’re double checking levi’s spending sheet with a calculator in your hands.

levi literally STOPS breathing because you look so refreshed today and the colour is back on your face. you look your best when you’re stress free.

and then you say it

“levi, do you think you could spend a bit less on tea bags because OH MY LORD???”

he notices there’s no longer an air of discomfort to his name and his chest swells happily

“y/n, give me ONE good reason to not spend my money that way??”

you notice how he easily he says your first name with an airy chuckle and you could almost... ALMOST... swear the two of you are flirting

to anyone observing with no sound he looks as nonchalant as normal but really the tone of his voice is implying the suggestive nature of conversation

“maybe you should spend your money on other things you like?” your suggestion is thrown back in your face when levi scoffs choking back a laugh

“i already am spending my money on other interests of mine.”

turning to face him and to hand him a file of paperwork you look him right in the eyes

“and what interests would those be?”

levi’s gaze meander down to your lips before shooting back up to your eyes and you swear you feel a tingle in the pit of your stomach

“i’ll let you figure that out on your own. you’re smart enough.”

you’re gaping at that reply because how are you meant to know???

but, the answer to your question is far more obvious than you think.

and it’s only after work whilst you’re eating dinner that you’re able to connect the dots

he was, talking about...you??

gasping you flush bright pink and bury your face into one of your sofa’s pillows

no way, there’s no way that happened

oh no, but there really is a way

and that way is levi ackerman ;-)

[thatesqcrush]

The Auction, Pt. 2

Bryan Kneef x Reader. CW: discussion of sex work, "being bidded on/purchased" touching of reader - but its consensual, vaginal fingering, language. WC: 2K.

You met with the brains of the organization for a long time. Her name was Cordelia and according to her, you were “a perfect candidate” as she eyed you up and down.

“How does this work? Is this safe? ” You asked, crossing your arms and narrowing your eyes. “How much of a cut do I get? And don't bullshit me.”

“Ah, I’ve always appreciated a woman who gets down to brass tacks.” Cordelia replied. “The cut is 50/50, off the books. We’ll screen your sexual health, of course. While those results are pending, we’ll vet you - make sure you’re of sanity and have no criminal background. This is all done behind closed doors - no one in your immediate life would be the wiser. If that’s all clear, we will arrange the date for the auction. In the meantime, we like to invest in our ladies once they’re cleared - meaning we’ll make arrangements for hair, makeup, clothes, and the like.”

You swallowed hard. “I can assure you, I’m clean. I haven’t had many partners prior.”

Cordelia nodded. “Well, then we have nothing to worry about.”

**

Your test results came and you received a clean bill of health. The next step was to be primped and polished. Naturally you were middle of the road - some days you could be really girly and other days, not. You weren’t tethered to any one style. But it had been awhile since you were ever able to relax, so when you were sent to a spa for a day of treatment, you jumped at the chance.

After, it was onto shopping.

You felt like Vivian from Pretty Woman as salespersons brought you dress after dress while you got your hair and makeup done. The request from Cordelia was ‘sexy, not slutty.’

You settled on a red hot mini dress with a v-neckline and center ruching for added dimension. Finishing the look was a pair of simple heels that showed off your toned gams and a pair of jeweled hoop earrings. You hardly recognized yourself in your reflection in the floor to ceiling mirror in the store. ‘This is one night; you’re playing a role.’ You told yourself. You figured if you repeated it enough times, you’d believe it.

An unmarked car came to collect you once you were done, driving you straight to the location where the auction was taking place.

You knew there would be other women there from Bonnie. What you didn’t realize was that you’d be going very last. Your nerves were starting to fry and your stomach was twisted in knots. You sipped water through a straw so as to not ruin your lipstick. Finally, there was a rap on the door and Cordelia poked her head in.

“Darling, it’s your time to shine. Now go earn your worth.”

**

You could hear raucous laughter, cheering and applause from behind where you stood. The music pounded and you could feel it in your bones.

Finally, the door opened - it was pitch black on the other side, save a spotlight. You said a quick prayer, even though you weren’t very religious as you stepped into the light.

Once there, the light adjusted to a more dim version and you were able to focus your vision on the crowd before you. Music played quietly in the background before a woman began to speak - someone who sounded very much like Cordelia.

What she says next and what is said after, is all blur. Bids begin to roll in and it’s in that moment you realized you were nothing more than a hooker, using your body as a means to an end. Humiliation flowed through you - you didn’t feel like you - you didn’t feel as good as you thought. Instead your worth was measured in bank rolls.

You scanned the room, men of all shapes, sizes, colors and creeds were there, waving their black AmEx cards like they were charging a steak dinner. And that’s how you felt - you were a lamb being slaughtered.

The gavel banged and you heard Cordelia exclaim, “Sold! To Mr. Bryan Kneef for two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars.”

You whipped your head at Cordelia. Had you heard her correctly? Two-hundred and fifty thousand dollars? The fact that you got to keep half made your head spin.

“And that concludes tonight’s auction. Winners may come to collect their prizes in the back.”

Cordelia wrapped her arm around your waist and began to whisk you away when you heard someone thank ‘Mr. Kneef for his payment.’ You turned to see who he was and in the dimmed light you saw it was ‘Mr. Mysterious.’

And you damn near passed out.

**

You sat in the room you were originally in. There was one security camera in place and Cordelia advised that winners liked to meet first before any further advances were to come.

Your leg bounced as you drank your water again. You felt as if you were there for hours but realistically it was mere moments.

The door opened and Mr. Mysteri—Kneef walked in. You smiled nervously at him and extended your arm. “Hi. Bryan, right?”

Bryan didn’t reply. Instead he gave you an intense, smoldering look. His cologne wafted over you, warm and woodsy causing your skin to goosebump.

You brought your arm back and clutched your hands behind your back. Bryan took another step towards you, as if he were trying to get a closer look at his purchase.

“Take off your clothes.” Bryan requested quietly. You opened your mouth to say something but the look in response along with a perfectly arched brow caused you to snap your mouth shut. “I want to see what I bought.”

You reached around, undoing the zipper - thankful it was along the side and not along your back.

You slid the dress off, strap by strap. You hadn’t worn a bra - just a nude thong which wasn’t even fancy - simple and basic, meant more for avoiding lines than anything else. The dress pooled at your feet and you stepped out of it. You moved to kick off your heels when Bryan interrupted you.

“Leave them on.”

You nodded and stood up, anxiously awaiting the next move.

Bryan removed his jacket and folded it neatly, hanging it over a chair. He began to roll up the sleeves of his dress shirt, showing off his muscular forearms with thick, meaty veins.

You looked up and saw the small security camera and realized this private show wasn’t so private. The sound of a finger snap brought you back to the present and you whipped your head towards Bryan. Your heart began to race and you wondered if you should just bolt. You tried to mentally measure the distance between you and the door.

Bryan approached you. His gaze softened, as if he were sorry for what he was about to say. “I’m going to touch you now. At any point if you want me to stop, I will. Consent is very important to me.”

“It is to me too.” You replied, meeting his gaze. After a beat, you continued. “You can touch me.”

His warm touch began rather innocently, along your arm up to along your shoulder. As he walked around you, he kept touching and feeling. His hand got to your ass and he let out a deep rumble as he squeezed the fat of your flesh.

Bryan walked around you. When he came around to the front of you, he cupped one breast with his hand, feeling the weight against his palm. You did your best to remain stoic, ignoring the bolt of pleasure that had shot down to your core. That changed when he firmly twisted your nipple, as you let out a moan as he did so. That earned another arched brow from him, as if taking mental notes.

He rounded you again, and you felt him close the small gap that remained. You felt his cock, hard, pressed against the small of your back. His fingers gently traced your arm and then brought it up, so it was around his neck. He ran his hand back down along your side, and you trembled under his touch. You were certain your heart was beating outside of your chest. When he got to the side of your ribs, he splayed out his hand, so his palm was against you. Slowly, his hand made way down to the apex of your legs.

“Open.” He rumbled in your ear quietly and you followed his instructions. Your breath hitched as his hand cupped your mound. Bryan’s fingers then moved to stroke you softly, teasing your clit and then moving back to stroke your folds. Your pussy grew wet, your breath became more labored as he continued his ministrations. You bit your bottom lip as he slowly but surely worked you to orgasm. Just when you thought you weren’t going to be able to take anymore, Bryan sunk a thick finger inside your soaked pussy. Your pussy clenched around his finger tightly and you let out a wrecked moan in response.

“You’re so wet and we haven’t even started.” Bryan murmured. His beard against your cheek added another layer of sensation. There was no resistance when Bryan sunk another thick finger and began to pump them in and out of you. The sound of wet filled the room and your legs felt wobbly as you gripped around Bryan’s neck harder. Your other hand found his free hand and you brought it up to your breast, encouraging him.

“I’m so close.” You panted. “Oh fuck!”

“Come for me like a good girl.” Bryan growled as he rubbed your clit with the fat pad of his thumb. He used his other hand to pinch your nipple again and you arched against him, coming so hard that you drew his fingers further in.

“That’s it, that’s it.” Bryan praised. “Oh sweetheart we’re going to have so much fun.” He slid his fingers out of you and you whimpered at the loss.

Bryan spun you around to face him. You were a mess as you watched him admire his wet fingers in the light. Bryan brought them to you and you took his fingers into your mouth, cleaning them of your juices and then imitating as to what you could do with your mouth.

Bryan gave you a salacious smile as he withdrew his fingers. He traced them along your cheek, leaving a wet trail to your mouth where he rubbed your bottom lip.

“I definitely got my money’s worth with you.” Bryan replied. “Go home, get some sleep. I’ll have arrangements made so we can have even more fun.”

You watched as he walked away, grabbing his suit jacket and exiting without so much as a second glance. You stayed frozen in place for another five minutes or so, until you realized you could redress and go home.

The car ride home left you with more questions than answers and more horny than ever. Your battery operated boyfriend ran through its battery as you replayed the evening over and over as you were too wired to sleep from the earlier events.

Eventually you did, with Bryan’s name still on your lips.

TBC.

Tags: @mgarner1227 @madpanda75 @tropes-and-tales @beccabarba @dreamlover31 @dreamlover31 @prurientpuddlejumper @sass-and-suspenders @youreverycolor @neely1177 @witches-unruly-heart @mrsrafaelbarba @skittle479 @greeneyedblondie44 @mommakat32 @teamsladsandgents @detective-giggles @garturbo @zoeykaytesmom @ottosuricato @zoeykaytesmom @bananas-pajamas @law-nerd105

@storiesofsvu @pieceofshittytitty @i-justreally-like-cats-okay @whatisthislife28 @jazzyjoi @rampantmuses @rachelxwayne @qvid-pro-qvo @madamsnape921 @averyhotchner @alwaysachorusgirl @amelia-song-pond @tintinxtintin @wanniiieeee @blueberryt @crowfootwrites @emandems10 @berniesilvas @whoamelinda @its-just-me-chey @resparza @chunex @chasingeverybreakingwave @itsjustmyfantasyroom @bisexual-dreamer02

[stellocchia]

This is part 4 of the Comprehensive Analysis of c!Tommy and c!Dream’s relationship during the Exile Arc

Part 1 -  Part 2 -  Part 3

We’re here once more just to suffer... though be fair I did decide to do this to myself, so I can’t really complain there...

As always under the cut we will be exclusively be talking about the characters unless stated otherwise and we will be talking about some serious topics, so keep that in mind

We’re starting this off with the infamous Beach Party stream: Tommy Is Left ALONE at his Exile Party with Dream

Now, quick introduction to this vod, since we find out about some details later on: no-one, aside from Dream, shows up because Dream destroyed the invitations and also Ghostbur won’t be around any longer because Dream sent him away (knowing fully well that that could have killed him since he already heard directly from Ghostbur that rain melted him). 

Basically at this point Dream is taking a step further into the manipulation process by not only making everyone else believe that Tommy didn’t want to see them but by also physically ensure they’d believe that. Also Tommy doesn’t start this one drowning either (perhaps because he was in high spirits the day prior?)

*creeper blows up* “Shit shit shit shit (...) I’m stupid I’m stupid I deserve that I deserve that. No no no no I didn’t I didn’t, today is gonna be a good day, today is gonna be a big day” (first response to anything negative has become taking on the blame, which we see later on with the Community House situation)

“Will Tubbo be there? Maybe! Myabe he will! Maybe he will!” (Tommy still very much missing his best friend)

“He [Tubbo] did boot me out... no no! you know what? I’m in the mood to reconcile!” (a big trait of Tommy’s has always been his loyalty to people, no matter how much they hurt him)

“It was definitely 8 pm GMT, 8 pm G-” *Dream joins the game* *Tommy pauses for a few moments on the Nether bridge completely still and then turns back* (I want to point out that the reaction any time Dream joined was one of absolute fear, for good reasons of course)

One thing that I’ve noticed is that Dream rarely comes from the Nether when visiting Tommy, opting instead for the objectively longer route through the water, which honestly seems to reinforce something he said early on, which was basically that even with the longer route it doesn’t take much effort to visit, and yet Dream is the only one willing to make that effort.

“Hello!” “H-hello?” “Hi!” “Hi ho-” “Where is everyone else?” “Oh... I don’t- I don’t know...” “I’m running a little late, I’m sorry” 

Considering that we know that Dream was in fact the one who sabotaged the invites, therefore meaning he knew fully well that nobody would be there, does the fact that he came late seem like he really wanted Tommy to stew in his own loneliness for a while to anyone else? You know, to properly break his spirit. Also Tommy immediately after this goes to take off his armour (Tommy Slippers included) and weapons, but this is the one time Dream lets him keep it (which, once again, he’ll use as a point against him later on). 

“Wilbur sent out the invites, didn’t he?” “Yeah, yeah no he sent them to everybody. He actually told Tubbo to his- like, he told him, he didn’t even need to give him an invite” “Really?!” “Yeah” (just want to point out that this is in fact not gaslighting, as some people seemed to think at the time, but it is still manipulation)

“I’m sure they said they’d be here by the day-” *watching the sun go down* “Time...” “I- I thought I was late so I’m surprised people aren’t here, but...” (turns out Dream was around 15 minutes late supposedly)

Tommy at this point takes out the cake, but he doesn’t eat any. I do think this is a good time to point out that the further we are into the exile the less we actually see Tommy eating (sometimes he straight up throws away any food he has in the inventory). He also sleeps less and less (or, at least, rests less, after all sleeping doesn’t necessarily mean being well rested afterwards) which we can deduce both from his comments on the subject and his rapidly deteriorating state. 

“Dream, no-one’s here” “I don’t know why... guess I’m most surprised Tubbo isn’t ‘cause he said he was gonna be, but-” (once again harping on to the retoric that Tubbo specifically willingly abandoned Tommy)

“I figured, I mean I figured you’d probably care the least if I was here so I just- I didn’t mind being a little bit late because everyone else would be here, but...” (once again the idea here is: “even if I was late I still came, no-one else did”)

“No-one cares about me anymore!” “That’s not true...” “No-one cares about me!” *Tommy takes his armour off again* “Tommy...” “No-one cares- no-one cares about me!” *Tommy destroys the rest of the cake* “No no no *sigh*” “No-one cares, do they? No-one showed up to my party... and it was the one thing, THE ONE THING they had to do for me after exiling me and fucking me over and not one of them came with me. And... none of them care about me anymore... ‘cause I’m not in L’manburg anymore, ‘cause I’m not with- ‘cause I’m not the vice-president”

Okay, that was a long quote, but 2 things I want to point out here: Tommy had about half of his health here, he refused to eat, take of his armour and marched towards the Nether, which is again him acting with no regard for his own self-preservation. And also there is a bit of Wilbur retoric sprinkled in there, with the whole “people only care about you when you have power” mentality. That’s exactly what Wilbur tried to convince him of in the Pogtopia era and it looks like he’s seeing a confirmation of this through the party. 

“If no-one is gonna put in any effort to come and see me, than I’ll make the effort harder to come and see me then, alright?” 

At this point Tommy has borrowed Dream’s netherite pickaxe and he proceeds to destroy a chunk of the bridge he’s made in the Nether, swapping it out for a one block wide wooden bridge. Of course, it goes without saying that he is not acting rationally, he is hurt and angry at the moment and he wants to convince himself that if others don’t care about him then he won’t care about them, which is why he starts lashing out more after this. And this is the result of Dream’s direct actions by the way.

“What is everyone saying about Tubbo’s compass? What is that? What is it? Explain to me” “I- uh I’m pretty sure that he burned it or something... or he lost it, something like that” “Wha...?” “He doesn’t have it anymore”

Tommy, up until now, didn’t even fully believed that Tubbo had a compass, but with the official confirmation of it being paired with Tubbo possibly willingly burn it, it’s the last straw for Tommy who decides to do the same. Though he doesn’t end up actually burning it, he does goes to take it out of the enderchest and bring it to the Nether. I do want to point out that Tubbo did not, in fact, either loose it or burn it willingly. It was blown up by accident in a creeper explosion.

*Tommy holding his compass over a sea of lava* “He burnt it? On purpose?” “I- I think so” “You know what, wou know what? Y- you know what?!” “Why don’t you- why don’t you sleep on it Tommy? Just wait don’t do anything, you know? Anything you can’t take back and then...” “I don’t sleep anymore Dream...”

Pretty sad scene... also a confirmation of what we said before about Tommy sleeping less and less. Also I’m not entirely sure why Dream was suddenly against Tommy burning the compass when he didn’t seem to be at the start, though it could be because Tommy was so obviously hesitant about it, so he probably wouldn’t have done it either way. Which means that it was a good moment to get friendship points. 

*Tommy standing in front of the portal in the main Nether hub* “I just want to go home... please can I go home...?” “Uhm, do you wanna see the Christmas tree for, like, 10 seconds?” “Can I stay?” “You can’t stay, but you can go look at it, I’ll let you out-” “Why can’t I stay?” “It’s not like they want you anyway Tommy” “wha...?” “Tommy, no-one showed up to your party and everyone was invited. Do you want to see the Christmas tree?” “I’ll just go back...”

This is the one single scene that is capable of making me emotional every single time. Just Tommy’s broken and small voice throughout it is something else... also Dream’s absolutely smug tone in all of it. But, the one thing, aside from the great acting, that I want to point out in all of this is how the reason for why Tommy can’t go back now has shifted from Dream killing him if he does to his old friends not wanting him around any longer. This way Dream gets to fully play the part of the magnanimous friend who still cares while everyone else is depicted as the enemy. Also I do find it interesting that in this scene Dream keeps insisting quite a bit for Tommy to go see the tree (in contrast to the first time where he refused for him to go back even for a few seconds), which almost looks like him testing how effective his conditioning was.

“That guy is gonna kill me, the little guy” *pointing at a baby piglin* “Oh” *Dream proceeds to get rid of it* (Tommy is by now basically dependent on Dream for his own safety)

“Do you need food?” “*sigh* No” (Tommy is literally on 3 hearts with 3 1/2 hunger bars and he is still refusing to eat)

They spend quite a bit of time after this by playing with Dream’s riptide trident and later also with the throwing one. Also Tommy changes his “girlfriend” hot girl for HOTTER girl (because I know you all deeply care for this kind of updates)

“I actually didn’t have a trident before and it took forever to come here, so I got a trident to come here quickly” “Oh thank you! You obviously care about me Dream” (Tommy feeling compelled to thank Dream for literally anything paired with Dream constantly showing off how much effort he is willing to put in)

“Let’s make a guest tent, let’s make a guest tent!” “That’s a... great idea” “In case any guest wanna- I mean maybe even- maybe you- we’ll make it here. It- it needs to be close to me because I’m- I’m really missing contact” (on top of everything else, Tommy was also canonically touch starved)

Dream and Tommy also make a guest tent together (and it’s implied a few times that maybe Dream will use it) before playing with tridents a bit more when it starts raining. Also Tommy builds a cobblestone smartphone were he keeps snapchat streaks with girls (this goes in the list of sentences I never thought I’d type). 

“Hey thanks for letting me keep my armour today” “You’re welcome” “It was nice of you” “I just thought it’d be good for the party and everything” “I’m sorry it wasn’t that much of a party in the end” “Eh, we make it a party together, so” “Yeah”

So, once more I want to point out a couple of things: there is no reason, aside from Dream’s conditioning, for Tommy to feel grateful that Dream didn’t take away his means to defend himself, nor is there any reason for Tommy to be the one apologizing for the party turning out the way it did. But also one other thing I want to point out is Dream’s insistence over them having fun together, which he keeps saying even later on during the prison visits. And I want to point that out because I do really think that Dream believes that or that he, at the very least, does try to convince himself of it. I’m still not entirely sure on that point, but, by now, I’m fairly sure that Dream really does believe that him and Tommy are his warped and toxic version of what “friends” would be...

“I should have died and then- and then I didn’t! I should have died...” (suicidal thoughts)

*Tommy reaching the maximum height with the trident* “I’m alone...” (just a very famous scene here, but also keeping to the theme of loneliness even when other people are around, in this case Dream)

“Just- just build a guest tent Dream! You’re probably gonna be the one who stays in the most so... since you’re my guest” 

*Dream standing inside the guest tent* “I’m in- I’m in my tent my tent” (the implications I mentioned before)

“Maybe I’m just gonna stay here, maybe I’m just gonna live here instead” (referring always to the guest tent and Logstedshire)

This all ends with Dream gifting Tommy the throwing trident (which he then puts in his enderchest) and Tommy also gains a zombie head from their mob hunting.

“Let me keep the other trident please” “What the one that you can throw?” “Yeah” “Okay Tommy, I’ll let you keep it” “Really?” “Yeah, as a gift, a beach party gift. You can remember our bonding experience from today” “Awww, thank you” (this is the conversation as a frame of reference)

“Listen Dream, what do we do now, then? If no-one is gonna come and visit me, what do I do?” “Nah, I’m visiting you!” (Dream really is convinced to me as much the center of Tommy’s universe as he is of his, huh?)

“Dream, as much as I’m feeling happy, I’m not. I’m not Dream. Where do we go from here?” “Uhm, I think that you will come around to liking it here, and you’ll build up your own ‘empire’ here, and you’ll be happy and maybe they’ll come and visit you- like you said! You said the thing about all, like, power right? You have no power and now they don’t visit you, maybe you’ll be- you’ll be back in power and then they’ll...” “I’ll always be exiled” “Yeah but that doesn’t mean you can’t become powerful, you can become powerful away from- away from them”

This is the closing conversation, that ends with Tommy entering the sea and disconnecting once he is on only one bubble of air left. Which, by the way, is a case of Tommy dissociating, which we know because he always later seems confused when logging in and finding himself in the water (meaning the confrontation with Jack at the hotel wasn’t the first case of him dissociating).

Also, while Dream is spewing all of this stuff about how “Tommy can still be powerful here” it’s obvious that that’s not the case. Tommy is not allowed armour or weapons and he is basically not allowed any allies (what with Dream sending Ghostbur away, intercepting Ranboo’s mail and making sure to keep away from Tommy as much as possible). Tommy is quite literally stuck in a position of powerlessness that he cannot escape from with someone who actually enjoys having him at his weakest.

I’ll leave it here for today, because this was literally one of the most intense streams so I had quite a lot to say and this became so damn long... I’ll probably condense the next two together.

[hellbentrapture]

I feel really bad that all I’ve been posting is my misery - but I am literally fighting to survive.

[CW/TW: depression, despair, anxiety, trauma, capitalist hellscape, poverty.]

I’m selling my Nintendo Switch. I’m selling my drawing tablet (not even a fancy one, just a USB one). Those are the most expensive recent things I own (apart from my computer setup). I will prob need to list my Xbox 360 and accessories this month or next month...which will make my more depressed than I already am because it’s the first console I ever bought myself at 16 - and I’ve been working since I was 15, buying my own groceries and paying some of my own bills.

I keep trying to sell my grad dress but no one is even looking at it. I have some nice goth boots I bought a bunch of years ago, I listed that too. I’m going to list all of my other boots and shoes I wear for going out or occasions. I may make July rent, but it won’t be enough for August rent. I don’t know what I am going to do.

I mean. I guess I can just start selling anything and everything in my home? The hard part is I am running out of anything of value, because almost all my furniture and things is stuff I acquired for dirt cheap or for free. So like. Not sure how much more I can actually sell and make it worth it.

It feels wretched because I guess I could sell my computer setup, but like. If I do that. I literally cannot go to school. It will remove remote work options. And I will be far more miserable than I can comprehend, probably a deadly amount.

Maybe I can try and find some remote work, but I have been struggling with my physical and mental health, I have no idea how I’m going to be able to work let alone find work. And if I do, I will likely need to withdraw from school for at least this term...which makes me really sad because I love this class. I’m struggling to get the work done for the class but I am barely managing, I want to believe I can get it done.

If I can just make it to September for student loans, I will be able to survive a bit better. In the meantime, I have to put everything together and get tests and wait to try and appeal for AISH.

I have nowhere I can go if I cannot pay my bills or rent. All of my family and friends are disabled and poor, if only doing better than I. And like, those who are able (physically, mentally, financially), I am not close enough to and couldn’t possibly ask to help me to such an extent or take me in. 

It’s so fucking st*pid. What will next Summer be like? Will I have AISH by then? Will I need to move next March? I can’t get income support while I am in school, they literally won’t let you. If I do leave school and go on income support, it is less than my rent, so lmao, what am I even going to do there. So I have to stay in school, I guess, and just do the best I can.

Selling things now is a very temporary measure - what will it change in the future? Do I just sacrifice all the little things I have that bring me any amount of happiness and joy just to make ends meet in the short term? And what about my cat? I can’t give her up...

What’s “funny” is, come September, my fall term won’t actually be that much of a financial improvement because any excess in loans will be entirely used to catch up on the bills I could not pay during the summer - which is what happened this time: I had to use excess from the winter term to pay for dental stuff, and then used excess from the summer to catch up on bills from the winter term. It’s a cycle and I am so. fucking. tired.

[omegawolverine]

Braid Me a Home

summary:

"Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.” 

or

A story about the Sleepy Bois being family, told through braids.

word count: 2.5k

warnings: child neglect, hurt/no comfort, canonical character death, implied/referenced mental health issues (like it’s obvious but there isn’t much detail to it), brief blood mentions (ik this fic sounds kinda angsty as hell but its not? imo its light angst)

a/n: first dream smp fic and im ALREADY projecting? christ. anyways. go easy on me pls this is far from my best work i just havent written a fic in like 5 months (more if you dont count the fucking chat fics) mm also i may have posted this like a week ago on ao3 just to test the waters and its already gotten way more comments and kudos than any fic of mine usually gets this early on so hopefully tumblr enjoys it too :]

—

When Wilbur Soot was born, he came out crying, as most babies do. Covered in vernix and blood, he weighed just barely above the seven-pound mark, gasping out sharp cries that only a parent could truly stand, or worse—love. Though he was the second baby born into the family that day, he was fussed over far more than he would ever be again.

Technoblade, on the other hand, had barely made a sound when he came out, a trail of blood smeared across his forehead, almost as if it was meant to be there. He made small noises that were more akin to confused mumbles, weakly grasping at his father’s hair when he was eventually passed on for the second child to be welcomed into the world.

Only when both boys were held in their father’s grasp did Wilbur quiet down, his soft head leaning into his father’s beard as he stared wide eyed at the boy across from him. Though they looked similar enough, Technoblade’s nose was squished further back into his face, appearing almost snout-like to Philza. Of course Wilbur noted this, wiggling until their father somehow managed to get them pressed right up against each other with minimal damage done. Though Techno never stopped squinting like an annoyed old man at Wilbur, he allowed the other to press a fist against his nose, his eyebrows unfurrowing just the slightest bit at the touch.

From that day on, Philza was the father of two twin boys—a loud boy who cried easily, but always calmed down for his older brother, and a rather monotone one, who’s face seemed to be permanently stuck in a scowl, unless said face was being smushed around by the younger. And things worked like that for a while. Not forever, but...a while.

—

Philza taught Wilbur to braid on a hot Monday afternoon.

It had been a rough day for the boy, though Phil hadn’t a clue why. Maybe he had just woken up on the wrong side of the bed? Or maybe he hadn’t slept enough between bedtime and the time Tommy had started crying again, the youngest boy’s crib being right beside his head and all. Though it might’ve seemed cruel from an outsider’s perspective, Wilbur had been the one to ask for it. Something about Tommy being his little brother and how he needed to teach the boy the ways of the world in the same way Techno had taught him—because apparently that was all Techno’s doing now, not Phil’s.

Regardless, Wilbur had been a bit too snippy for Phil’s liking that day, complaining about every little thing they did until finally, the day was over.

Well, as over as it could be with Techno leaving mid foam sword fight, an annoyed shout of ‘I quit!’ leaving his mouth before he snatched up Tommy’s carrier and brought him inside for god knows what reason.

It had only been around four P.M. by that time—too early for dinner, yet too late for Phil to really demand the boy stay outside and continue to entertain himself with a brother who was clearly not entertained himself.

Details aside, Phil isn’t really sure how they got to braiding. He just knows at some point they did and by the end of their outside time, just before the clock struck six, Wilbur had made two thick, messy braids in his hair. They stuck out awkwardly, looking all too similar to Pippi Longstocking’s iconic hairdo for his comfort, but he’d be damned if he took out the braids his son had so happily rushed inside to show his older brother before demanding to do his hair as well. After all, Wilbur didn’t have long enough hair for braids, but Technoblade sure as hell did. It was only at his shoulder blades back then, brunette curls wrapping around his narrow shoulders and thin arms like thick vines.

Wilbur had always enjoyed brushing it out with his fingers and putting cute, handmade clips or flowers in it at random, decorating the waves for his brother who was more than happy to let the boy do as he pleased. Though he would never admit it, Technoblade liked how it felt when Will played with his hair. He was always careful not to tug too hard, prioritizing the comfort of his other half more than the beauty of his work, as he so often referred to it.

So when Will had presented him with the mess that was his first two braids, he wasn’t hesitant at all to let the boy practice on him. Instead, he walked to the couch with a small smile, removing his glasses gently and getting comfortable before his brother plopped down into the space behind him. Long legs draped over long legs with no warning, thighs pressed together as if they were meant to be like that all along—and they might as well have been, for how often they did this.

Phil had watched them from the doorway in content silence, Tommy sitting behind him in a wooden high chair looking bored, but not making a fuss for once. And as he left that doorway to begin dinner, he listened to their muffled conversation and soft bursts of laughter with a small smile on his lips, for he knew things wouldn’t always be this way. They would have to grow up eventually, and when they did, things would change. Phil could only hope it was for the better.

—

When Tommy turns nine, Wilbur teaches him to braid under circumstances not too different from the ones he had learned under himself.

Well. Not too too different.

Philza and Technoblade had been...busy as of late. In the house for three days, out for a week, in for a week, out for three more, over and over and over again. Wilbur had become more like a father to Tommy in recent months than he should’ve been, his fourteenth birthday fast approaching as their father took Techno out for yet another job, one that Wilbur couldn’t come on because he was too fucking weak to do anything Techno could do, too fucking stupid to learn all the techniques Techno did, lacking all the strength and agility his older sibling possessed, like the useless prick he was-

Right. This is about Tommy.

When Tommy was nine, his hair rested gently against his collarbones in the exact same cut and color as their father wore. If Wilbur was a lesser man, he would’ve hated the kid for it, but it wasn’t his fault that he couldn’t see what a selfish git their father truly was yet. All he knew was that their dad was busy a lot and that, for some reason, Techno needed to go with him. Apparently, that was enough for him to keep holding onto the idea that one day, the man would stay longer and maybe, just maybe, show him some of the same care that his older brother did.

If Wilbur was a better man, he would tell Tommy the truth. He would tell him all about the way Philza had called him useless in a fight, forcing him to instead stay home and care for a child while still being one himself. He would mention how Philza had given him no instructions on how to care for a developing child, how he left out key details to parenting on his own as a goddamn thirteen-year-old, yet remembered to tell him things would be better this way because god forbid he does his fucking job as a father for anyone but Technoblade—

Who he missed. He missed Technoblade, his other half, so fucking bad it hurt sometimes—so bad it left him gasping for breath at two A.M., his head pounding in tandem with his uneven heartbeat, lungs burning as his snot and tears soaked into his brother’s cold, cold sheets. And it made him feel fucking pathetic because the truth of the matter was that...Techno had left him behind too. Still, he couldn’t bring himself to hate the older boy, no matter how hard he tried. Couldn’t hate Philza either, if he were to be honest with himself, but it was a lot easier to pretend he did when his father was the one putting them all in this position to begin with.

So, Tommy was nine when he learned how to braid.

Phil had promised him and Techno would be back Tuesday morning.

It was Wednesday afternoon.

Tommy didn’t fucking understand, and as frustrating as it was that the prick decided to take it out on Wilbur, he couldn’t blame him. Who else was he supposed to take this shit out on? Certainly not the man who had yet to return.

Wilbur had started the braid as a way to distract him. It was simple, really—tell him you know something he doesn’t and that he won’t get to know if he doesn’t sit the fuck down and listen.

When he had started tugging the boy’s hair back from his face, his immediate reaction was to jerk away, swatting at the hands that hovered over his shoulders. This only happened once or twice more before he let it happen naturally, his posture stiff as Wilbur ran his fingers through the boy’s hair with practiced ease.

Though it may not have seemed like it, Tommy was significantly more averse to touch than Techno had ever been. The only reason Techno even seemed averse to it was because of his hesitance to initiate, something he and Wilbur had discussed in depth. Rejection was one of the few fears Technoblade truly had and Wilbur held that fact close to his heart, ready to die with it if need be. Tommy, on the other hand? He was very particular about where and when and why someone was touching him, and it had taken Wilbur a long time to get used to that fact. But, he wasn’t about to make his little brother uncomfortable just so he could be happy and, eventually, he learned the ins and outs of how to touch TommyInnit without causing issue.

Pulling a few of the shorter strands towards the front of Tommy’s face loose, Will separated the blonde’s hair into three sections. They were rather small, what with how thin and short his hair was, it just barely being long enough to even have a proper braid in it, but Wilbur knew he could make it work.

“Now, Toms, you gotta listen to me here, because I can’t show you this bit, yeah? Phil and Tech aren’t here, and my hair is too short, so you’ll just have to feel it out for now, but...this is how you braid hair-” Wilbur had said in a soft voice, brushing the pad of his thumb over the boys neck slowly to ease the tension out of his shoulders. The effect was immediate, the boy slouching forward as if he had just noticed he was holding himself so sternly. Smiling softly, Wilbur instructed him on how to weave the strands together, answering questions and pulling lightly at Tommy’s hair so he could feel exactly where everything went. After he was done, Tommy had reached back to feel the bumps in his hair, all his earlier anger seemingly gone as he gave a small smile. And then he tried it himself.

Of course he got a bit of help at first, Wilbur’s larger hands guiding his own with gentle corrections, but after that Tommy worked on it alone, his older brother watching in silence from a patch of grass beside the porch step.

That night, Tommy and Wilbur slept in Techno’s bed, a soft, blue blanket wrapped tightly around them. And if another body woke them up at some point that night, shoving its way into the mess of limbs, their chest pressed right up against the youngest boy’s back, then that was only for them to know.

—

At eleven years old, Tommy takes a pair of scissors to his hair. With flushed cheeks and salty lips, his hands shaking and his eyes foggy, he cuts, cuts, cuts, until he can no longer braid his hair—until he can no longer look like fucking Phil.

Even though Wilbur had once said he hated Tommy’s long hair—hated how similar he and their dad looked—he felt like crying as he ran his fingers through the uneven strands. He didn’t tell his brother this though, instead grabbing his face and planting a wet kiss on his freckled forehead. In a fierce whisper, Wilbur had said, “I’m so fucking proud of you, Tommy. So fucking proud.”

Tommy never forgets the way he felt that day. He doesn’t forget Wilbur’s words either.

—

When Wilbur loses his last life, Technoblade tells Tommy to braid his hair.

It wasn’t a question either, but a demand forced out between gritted teeth, his face red, his nose stuffy and his lashes wet with unshed tears. Still, his words were clear as day.

“Braid my fucking hair, Theseus. Braid it.”

It had sounded like a plea falling from Techno’s chapped lips, blood caked under his nails as he sat in front of Tommy on a tree stump, slowly itching at his wrists.

“Wilbur told me to stop you if you ever started doing that-”

“Wilbur isn’t fucking here. Just...braid, Toms. Braid.”

Tommy sniffled, but did as he was told.

Maybe it was because he was too tired to argue with the only person he even had left. Maybe it was because he could tell Technoblade was mad at their father for the first time in his life, and he knew how bad his first time had felt. Or, maybe, it was just because he knew Techno fucking cared. Nobody else seemed to, but he knew Techno did and...that was enough for him.

As long as someone else cared—as long as it was fucking Technoblade—that was enough for him.

Just as Tommy had finished the braid, curling his finger around the light pink tail that tied the whole thing off, Techno yanked it forward. Before he could even register that the hair had left his hand, the older boy had taken an axe to the top of it, letting the rest of his hair fall around his face in uneven curls. Though it was a good ten minutes of work wasted, Tommy couldn’t say a damn thing as he watched Techno pocket the braid, muttering a thank you and heading in the direction of Wilbur’s unofficial grave.

In that moment, he felt relief for the first time in a long while.

—

Wilbur Soot was born covered in vernix and blood, weighing just barely above the seven-pound mark, and he came into the world much like he left it. Everyone had heard his cries—even if they weren’t there, even if they didn’t know him well—they had saw the way he spiraled, desperate and afraid and paranoid, searching for help, but never receiving enough.

And though he was the second child born, he left the world first, returning in a yellow sweater with a small braid tucked behind his ear. He didn’t really know why he had one, but he remembered braiding Techno’s hair and he remembered teaching Tommy how to do his own and he remembered, he remembered, he remembered the braids.

[kuvvydraws]

Life for me has been utter shit - stuck with godawful lessons and a lot of tests, all the while having to worry about this group of mean girls who I offended a couple month ago and now have to constantly think about what I do because all it takes is one mistep and they go all snarky and stir up trouble by making baseless accusations - cause all it takes is one mistake to turn your best friends into utter bitches ((sorry for the language)) who constantly make it out to be that I’m always going out of my way to wind them up and harass them

And now I’m worried that if any of my other past mistakes come up that they’re going to make it out to be a big thing, and if they make it out to be a big thing then I just know it’s gonna reach the teachers who’re gonna make it reach home and then I’ll have to deal with the usual disappointment I get when I make even the smallest mistake, because everyone expects me to be this perfect little thing that cant make a single mistake, and if that happens I honestly don’t know how I’m gonna deal with it - especially if I lose my phone, as it’s like my only comfort source and tether to the things that actually make me happy.

And no I don’t mean that in terms of social media, I mainly mean that in terms of stuff like access to tumblr and my fanfiction - because as sad as it sounds they’re the only thing keeping my happy and keeping me going

I should probably talk about some of this with my counsellor, but then she’s gonna have to mention it to her superiors who’ll most likely make her tell my parents and I just don’t have the energy or will power to deal with that

So here I am, using anon on tumblr to rant at someone as sweet as you who’s probably just gonna get either super bummed out or kinda concerned which you shouldn’t be as I honestly don’t deserve anyone’s care or concern. I’m already a waste of physical space, no need to be a waste of someone’s emotional and mental energy as well.

Sorry. - 🦋anon🦋

((just to add a little bit of recognition in case I want to/need to rant again. Granted that’s good with you of course))

Alright so that's a lot, so I think I'm going to answer this under a read more and hopefully I can bring you some sort of comfort, as little as that may be

Before that tho, I know I'm not a rant/venting blog, but you guys can come do so in asks or DMS even if we never talk again. I rather lend an ear that have you with a heavy weight on your shoulders if I can help carry it.

ALSO

This is a self-deprecation free blog! Y'all are a fucking delight, and gorgeous inside and out and I'll frigging fight you if I must in order to seal that idea in your funky little brains! 🔪🔪🔪

School problems sound like a lot of stress rn (I'm guessing you're not in college yet, I don't have the facts tho), and those come in the source of social and study issues. To the later, I can only say that they will pass, they're temporary and they don't really matter that much as long as you manage the bare minimum to go on with your life plans (which is a ridiculous thing to say because I myself am 23 and I still don't know jack shit about anything, much less about life).

Your "friends", and this is the last time I call them that, are clearly not deserving of you, not only if they treat you that way but also because if you're so sure they're willing to use mistakes from the past against you, that means you kind of subconsciously understood they weren't that good to start with. To that I can only say that kind of gut feeling comes with age (I'm full of hateful advice tonight, sorry), and that those mistakes they'll make you face were things you did in the past you made being younger and less informed and "matured", and you should look at them with that gaze instead of beating yourself over them or letting them get to you (this is not easy, but you can do it 💪🏻💪🏻💪🏻)

Idk how you school (again, guessing) works, but sure there is a tutor or someone you can talk with from the staff, a therapist they hire from time to time or, and I know you won't like this option, the counselor. Think of your mental health for a moment, please.

You're not a machine.

You are not a perfect thing.

You're human, and you're fallible, and weak, and you get tired, and you make mistakes. And that's okay.

And people around you have to understand that. They can't make you a puppet to satisfy their expectations because that's going to end up either burning you out or tearing you apart.

From here, and I clearly don't know all the details so please consider that too, I think you should sacrifice some of that untouchable image others have assigned on you that you use like a shield and show vulnerability, let an "authority" inform your parents that you do very much have a breaking point and you're reaching it and you need to breathe and exist for a second.

I myself got lost, quite purposefully, in reading and writing and art -and I still do- and consuming media as a source of comfort and familiarity that was, and still is, always reliable and endless.

I don't think there's a problem with that, so long as you keep it reasonable and don't get too lost in it. As we say in my country, "lo bueno, si breve, dos veces bueno" (I'll let you investigate that on your own 😉)

The main thing I get, and what I do all the time because it works for me like a clock, is a red balloon, meaning, hobbies. I like creating things -I like reading the most, honestly, but it's never as engaging as making your own stuff. Write something, draw something, it doesn't matter if you don't think it's good, or bad, or anything or everything in between. You get a distraction, you invest in something that brings you joy such as interacting (or not, that's up to your comfort level and/or want to do so) with fandoms and Tumblr, and one day, when you're feeling under the weather or in need of a break, you can look back and see the things that you have done and be proud of them despite all their little imperfections because you made them and you had a good time while doing so and they helped you get your mind off things.

Exhaustion is a thing, and a terrible one at that, and we end up feeling numb at best, and tired, and just like you can't keep going, you can't even take that infamous baby step that's just enough for some people, and you fear that if you don't make what's barely enough then how...?

That's bullshit. It real, and valid, and it's heavy as fuck and it gets to you, nests inside your very bones and drags you.

I'm not a very cheery person despite what my internet persona might suggest, quite the opposite, and I use that to keep me going.

You can't keep up or find a reason to take that baby step? Do it out of spite.

That's my answer against life itself, when everything is just too much and I cant- I can, out of spite.

NGL buddy, it ain't healthy, but it keeps you on the move until those bad days are over and suddenly you'll find yourself fighting back, standing straight (that's the only straight thing I do), and charging forward like a bull.

Don't give up, I promise time fixes everything sooner or later and good days are on your way. That's a threat.

[angelanika]

Rough Day

{Rin Matsuoka x Reader}

{College AU}

A/N: I literally thought of this as I ate my first meal at 3pm :D Enjoy!

TW: Brief mention of suicide

Your hands trembled in your lap, occasionally being struck by the cold tears that fell down your cheeks. You sat alone in the corner of the busy cafeteria with your tear-stained face hanging low. Your glossy eyes slowly shifted to the side catching a glimpse of your pathetic reflection in the large, glass window. They then trailed down to your simple wrist-watch. 

6:53pm 

You wondered how the time slipped away so quickly, how you even got to this point but thinking back to today’s events made you want to cry even more. 

~~~~~

“Shit!” you cursed, tripping over yourself while struggling to slip on your leather boots. 

You couldn’t understand how you managed to sleep in seeing that you’ve never missed your alarm before. Sure you snoozed it from time to time but the thought of all the money you had to pay to even be at this university was usually enough motivation to get you out of bed. 

You frantically tapped at your phone but it shone back brightly with a black screen, mocking you. 

You were on it all night last night trying to go over some last minute study material before falling asleep and by time you put it down, you knew it was all out of juice but you SWORE you plugged it in!! How did you not plug it in?!?!

You wildly shrugged on a random coat from your cramped closet and did a quick glance over in the mirror. Damn, you looked rough. No time for that though. You dashed to the sink, gargled (damn near choked), snatched up your bag, keys, phone and flew out the door.

“What’s the time? What’s the time? What’s the time?” you chanted to yourself as you ran. Your watch (aka your new best friend) replied happily with a 9:13am.

“Son of Bitch!! The exam started at 9,″ you cried. 

Whipping through the heavy wooden doors of the exam hall, you made your way in, throwing a panicked “sorry” to anyone you accidentally ran into. You crashed into the room, apologized to the frowning professor at the door, took an empty seat already equipped with an exam booklet and got to work. 

...

“So should I do a flip when I jump off the building or...” you thought to yourself.

After that horrid exam you remained quietly in your seat. All the other students had ran out, eager to discuss it with their peers but you couldn’t even bring yourself to lift your head. The room was empty, quiet and cold...just like how you were feeling inside. 

“I studied so hard for this shit. How did I screw up so much?!” 

“Please refrain from using such foul language in the classroom Mr/Ms. L/N” 

You jumped up.

Did I say that aloud...

There in front of you stood your professor with all the exam booklets in hand. 

“I was making my way out but I couldn’t help but notice that you’re still here,” she explained.

“Oh yeah...sorry,” you replied weakly.

She immediately picked up on your tired, sad eyes and pulled out the chair next to you. 

“Hm. Let’s see if I can give you some good news,” she said while taking a seat. 

She began rummaging through the booklets before stopping to pull out yours. 

You quietly listened to the steady sound of a pen being dragged across paper. Your head was face down on the desk but you could still make out the image of check marks being drawn beside you. 

You heard quite a number of these and were starting to perk up a bit but then, it stopped. 

Fuck...

“Hmmmm uhh good idea but...i guess you can get half a mark...hmm...i don’t know about that...”

Your professor really tried to save your grade but she can only award marks to what actually makes sense. You sighed audibly and began collecting your things. 

“Well I can tell you your grade now but it’s not really that grea-”

“No thanks,” you interrupted. You could only handle so much heartbreak in one day. “Bye Miss. Thank you. Have a good day.” 

And with that you were out. 

You reluctantly went through your other back-to-back classes for the day, dealt with some less than friendly customers at work in the bookstore, got lectured by your manager for unorganization and stepped in gum on your way out ALL without a single bite to eat!! This brings us to the present. 

6:53pm 

You never thought that the sight of the plain, unseasoned cafeteria food would bring tears to your eyes...in a happy way. You were so tired. So hungry. So mentally drain-

“YN!!!!! WHAT THE HELL IS WRONG WITH YOU?!?” 

The booming voice of your beloved boyfriend, Rin Matsuoka, making his way across the cafeteria sent you flying, startling your innocent metal fork out of your hand and to the ground and whipping a few heads to turn in your direction.

“I’VE BEEN TEXTING YOU ALL DAY AND YOU DIDN’T SEND ME A SINGLE REPLY. YOU ALSO FAILED TO MEET UP FOR BREAKFAST AFTER WE AGREED TO YESTERDAY...” 

He was now seated across from you, clutching his phone dangerously tight out of frustration. His stunning red hair was wet and wild and he was dressed in his usual swim jersey, obviously just getting out of training. He wasn’t yelling but his tone was far from easy-going. He was clearly upset with you.

However, your eyes didn’t meet his once since he sat down. They were trained on the metal fork lounging on the floor. The ding-a-ling sound still echoing in your mind. It was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The final straw for you. Cue the waterworks, your body couldn’t hold back any longer. 

“YOU HAD ME WORRIED SICK Y/N!! THE LEAST YOU COULD’VE DONE IS...is...y/n? What’s wrong?” his crimson eyes widen upon seeing tears streaming rapidly down your beautiful face. It felt like a stab in the chest to him.

“I-I didn’t mean to make you cry babe. I’m so sorry...I was just worried and I finally saw you here so I came over and I-” he speedily tried to apologize. 

“No no it’s fine Rin,” you mumble in between sobs “It’s not your fault. I just had a really rough day.” 

Your hands were now lifelessly sprawled on the table which Rin made quick to grab.

“Babe...what happened?”

He worriedly stared into your eyes but you couldn’t bring yourself to look back at him with your pitiful ones, opting to turn towards the window once again as you rambled. 

“Well...first I missed my alarm and woke up late cuz my phone was dead. Rin I swear I put it to charge!!” you cried, “so I ended up being late for an exam I was preparing really hard for but I completely bombed that too. Then I had 2 more classes that I couldn’t miss and I went to work and I haven’t had a single meal all day and my phone is still dead and-”

“Breathe y/n breathe,”  Rin whispers, trying to calm you down.

“I’m so sorry about the texts and breakfast Rin. It’s just really not my day,” you finished. 

Rin was quick to dismiss your apologies and assured you that he completely understood. 

“College life is really rough babe but you gotta make sure to take better care of yourself,” he explained.

You nodded. 

“Having your first meal at 7pm can’t work y/n. Suppose you collapsed from fatigue. And of course you couldn’t do well on that test without something in your stomach. I always tell you that breakfast is the most impor-”

“I KNOW RIN!!”

You didn’t mean to blow up on him like that but you were so hungry, the food was getting cold with all his health talk that you really didn’t need right now, you looked like trash and your fork was still on the filthy fucking floor. 

He was visibly taken aback by the sudden change in tone but he only sighed and stood from the seat.

“Well I’m glad you know babe,” he said softly, planting a tender kiss on the top of your head. “Now let me get you another fork and I’ll be sure to give your body all the TLC it needs to get back on track later...” he teased with a wink. 

“Sounds good.”

Sounds damn good indeed...

[thoughtfullyyoungduck]

Schooling

A/N: hi anon! From what you’re requesting it’s pretty obvious that you’re struggling a grave bit with schooling and as someone who has been there (literally, I changed my major five times), I want to assure you that everything always falls into place the way it should be. I believe in you! 

Also, as i was posting this I remembered that I don’t know how schooling works in the USA so I just wrote it from a Belgian perspective. 

Summary: could u do a richie x reader where reader wants to be a musician but their parents are forcing them into sum hard uni course, but the readers getting awful grades and then accidentally applies to a random easy program instead of the hard one and freaks out tht her future ruined, so richie convinces the reader she doesn’t need to worry bc she’ll be a famous musician instead

High school was not a thriving environment for you. You had your friends, the losers club, who you adored and couldn’t imagine your life without, but you were also bullied relentlessly, and you weren’t fond of the studying part of the school dynamic. No one is, supposedly, but compared to Stan and Ben – both possessing the motivation and drive to put it in the effort, and Richie and Mike who were effortlessly smart, you felt lost.

The idea of college was the only thing holding you up, the only motivation to get through your high school years. That musical course you planned on taking was a bright light at the end of the tunnel. In hindsight’s, you accumulated way too much pressure on yourself for imagining college to be this amazing place where you would get to thrive in life. The reality was a lot more grim.

The first problems arose in choosing your major. Your friends had all zoned in on one – or were getting close to at least-, but you were clueless about what the right thing to do was. There were worlds apart between what you thought would truly bring you joy in life, and what your parents were manipulating you into choosing.

Your parents, at least when you’re younger, have the biggest influence on your view on the world and the way you see yourself fit in it. When your parents pushed you towards a biology degree, and kept at it for months, you agreed.

From day one, you knew it had been a mistake. You shared a few classes with Stan, and those all went over fine -because you had a friend around that you needed to stay strong for-, but the moment you had your first class, a deep feeling of dread settled inside you. Despite not enjoying high school like some might, at that moment you hoped for a miracle to turn back time.

Tests passed by in a flurry, and as each one got progressively worse, your mental health followed suit. You were caught in a visions cycle of bad grades and bad emotions, and it drained you so bad that anything that could potentially have anything to do with school, like emails, send you into a frenzy.

The inevitable happens on a Wednesday after school. You wasted a lot of time thinking of what could be, and winded up at the school that organized the musical course. On the home page of the sight, there had been a test titled: ‘is our schooling up your lane?’, and you, snorting with irony, took it to be coy. They asked a bunch of personal questions, and you didn’t think anything of it, until you received and email to state that you had started your admission to the school. The month long building tension snapped, and you started crying hysterically. You weren’t sure what you had done and if it was even anything to worry about, but everything got to be too much, and you wanted your best friend with you.

Richie arrived a mere ten minutes after your phone call, and let himself in to your bedroom where you were still crying on the bed. Thank god your parents weren’t home.

‘What’s up with you?’ Richie asked incredibly, sinking down on his back next to you on the bed. You appreciated the lack of fake sympathy and pity.

‘Same old,’ was the only thing you could come up with to say. You didn’t know if you had the energy to rehash everything again.

‘Your schooling again?’

‘It’s my schooling everyday Richie. It’s important.’

‘Is it as important as hanging out with me?’ It coaxes a laugh out of you, but the lighthearted moment is quickly squashed. You can’t shut off your kind and live in the moment. With everything you do, the reality slams on you, never allowing you to have a break.

‘Yes Richie. I know that school doesn’t matter to you, but it does to me. My parents will kill me if they find out I applied to this course. Help me.’

Your leg begins to bounce, a sign that your anxiety is taking over completely. Richie can recognize the signs, as he himself displays them often.

‘Calm down y/n, you’ll just follow the music program and became a musician. I’ll pay you to be my support act, and all of the losers will come to watch us. It’ll be fine.’

‘For you maybe, but my parents will kill me when they find out.’ It’s true. Before you enrolled in biology, you had already hinted at maybe following a music path, and your mom had shut it down faster then you could even finish your sentence.

Richie snorts. ‘Your parents are mad at you all the time. Who cares, in a few years you’ll be out of there and you won’t have to listen to them ever.’

‘But-‘

‘Y/N/N, come on’, Richie interrupts cheerfully. He throws one of his legs atop your to stop your leg from moving. ‘You’re stressing over nothing. If you can tell Bowers to fuck if you can do anything.’

‘Well Bowers was nothing, he’s just pathetic. This’, you empathizes ,‘is my future Richie.’ You sigh, completely disheartened. Your pc screen is lit up, and you notice a new email pop up from your new school. You can’t take it, why can’t you have a few moments to collect your thoughts?

‘What if I’m not good enough?’ You ask him quietly, sagging against Richie for support. It’s now that your true stress comes out. Your parents views are a problem, but if you were truly convinced that you could do it, you would go against their wishes anyway. ‘What if I do this, and I have to hear about how disrespectful I am for years, and it doesn’t pay off?’

Cruelly, Richie laughs. That’s weird. Richie is never fully serious, he always has a way to alter a situation into something cheerful, but he’ll never be intentionally rude.

‘Please? Not being good enough? You’re the best musician I’ve ever seen and heard.’

‘We live in Derry, that’s not saying much.’

‘I mean it. My second favorite thing is listening to you with your instrument, my favorite is still fucking Eddie’s mom though.’ A mom joke while you were debating over your major was not something you were aiming for, but hey, it’s Richie. Are you really surprised?

‘What do I do if I fail?’

‘You won’t. But if you do, you can always do that one year school thing right? You have the rest of your life to do the adult thing, why not choose your happiness now?’

It’s profound in a way Richie isn’t often -and in a way that people don’t credit him enough-. He has a hard time being serious, but you know that once he is, he always tells the truth. Maybe this time, he is too.

‘You truly believe that?’

‘It’s as true as my wang is long.’

‘Gross’, you protest, but his words light a fire under u. It gives you a whole new wave of confidence, a way to see things from a different perspective. Why wouldn’t you go for it and take the chance? Why should you be stuck doing something you take no pride or joy in. Your parents will be a problem, but this is not the life they have to life. They have made their own decisions, and now it’s time for you to take yours. Are you willing to do something for the rest of your life simply for your parents approval?

Another email filters in, one to confirm your decision to enroll in the new major. Richie intertwines your hands, offering up more strength to do what you have to. With one last encouraging smile, you nod to yourself, and press accept.

[straighttohellbuddy]

World building is the best tbh. I’m forever world building and now I have several worlds to play in and my neurodivergent brain cannot stay still enough to focus on one lmao. SLOWBURN ROMANCES ARE MY LITERAL JAM LIKE PLS!!! I LOVE THEM!! Also!!!! Concepts!!!! Pls share!!!! I love learning about the worlds of my fave fics and I can hands down say right now that this fic will literally shoot to the top of my list of favourites which means you’ll occupy the top three spots. Sorry to hear that ur feeling rough, so am sending u the biggest hug. I’m not okay but I’m taking care of myself today so that I will be 🧡-🐈‍⬛

alsjfsldkjf i have too many worlds TBH, literally one of the best parts of my 2020 was writing for the classic rock fandom and writing one of my good friend’s ocs alongside mine, like there’s so many different worlds that our two characters have now, i’m like 26k deep into a high school au that i need to get back to at some point, and then i wrote a oneshot abt the high school au but they’re adults, and then there’s also the original timeline, and then there’s the present day in the original timeline where they have kids and i probably care too much about people who aren’t real...... hahaha

OKAY OKAY OKAY HERE WE GO I’LL GIVE KIND OF AN OVERVIEW OF THE ALBUMS AND A FEW SONGS BUT IF U WANT ME TO GO IN DEPTH ON ANY OTHER SONG JUST ASK!!!

yes i have a playlist for each, if you wanna hear how i interpret the vibes of the songs. if you interpret them differently, thats awesome!! i’d love to hear y’all’s opinions on them!!

testing one two - the first ep they release, the song titles are mostly themed (fast forward, press play, pause, rewind), but are mostly things y/n has been working on for a while but never got around to finishing, things they are rather proud of. i see you shiver with... is the first song they wrote specifically for the album, and it’s the last song on the EP because it’s a Rocky Horror reference; i see you shiver with...

a n t i c i p a t i o n - first full album!! the vibe is Hopeful But Hesitant it has all the songs from the ep, plus some new ones!! collabs with youtube musicians troye and dodie, and y/n’s label sets up a collab that turns into a genuine friendship. the breakout dance hit is what else is there to say ft. Troye Sivan, which is about not knowing what to make content about when it feels like you’ve already told the world everything. it featured the prechorus and hook

You, know, ev-ery-thing about me / gave it all for free / my life in HD / So, let’s dance, let me see your hips sway / we’re gonna be okay / what else is there to say?

So say that you love me, say that you love me, say that you love me / let’s die hand in hand. / I’ll tell you I love you, tell you I love you, tell you I love you / supply and demand. 

personally, i also conceptually enjoy srs bsns which is a really upbeat song about how they don’t care if people don’t take them seriously because they know in their heart that what they’re doing is good

hyperfocus - 2nd EP, a pretty substantial departure from their usual style, but also happens to quietly be Corpse’s favourite, and is actually y/n’s most polarising, because it has both the Grammy award winning HEARTBURN and the o brother where art thou which was written partially as a joke to capture a fond moment of them and 5SOS dicking around together in a hotel. written while on tour wit 5SOS, im writing the reader as having ADHD (because I have ADHD and i can do what i want), and the backstory is that they’d changed the medication/dosage they were taking, and as it’s their first full tour, they were under a lot of stress and were in a weird place mentally and emotionally, and hyperfocus is the result of that. i’m going through some stuff has HUGE agoraphobic vibes. 

HEARTBURN has the same vibes as Florence + The Machines’ Howl. It’s about being a demon without saying that or directly implying that unless you know demons real well. This is when the pressure for them to confirm their identity got real bad, and it was their way of working through those emotions.

tear in existence in the shape of a person / when i’m seeing clearly i can’t see myself / world can’t swallow what it can’t get it’s teeth into / got everything i wanted but i ain’t got my health

Got heart-burn--- / I’ll tear me apart / I’ll tear you apart / I’ll tear me apart. 

SCREAM gets rereleased as a remixed single featuring Fall Out Boy the following year. It won the MTV music award for best collaboration in 2018. 

In the time between hyperfocus and working on it, Y/N releases several singles, including a cover of Tell Him by The Exciters to be featured in To All The Boys I’ve Loved Before. They also take time to sort out their health, do a little bit more YT stuff, and travel internationally to do festivals. 

working on it - is kind of a middle ground between their original stuff, and hyperfocus, like pop-punk meets horror-pop meets whatever you’d classify halsey as. the first three songs were mostly written before the fic starts, so before they’re getting back to YT, but the last three, nightmare scenario, designed to hurt (touch me), and not scared were all written after they’d started hanging out with sykkuno and corpse. 

in-universe, imposter syndrome was originally something else, along the same lines of tired that they’re hiding that they’re a demon, but after meeting corpse nd sykkuno and having people who know, and lowkey being influenced by corpse’s music, the song changes directions, and YO OKAY YO::

I literally am so fucking flattered, my darling friend @bingusmode​ wrote lyrics for imposter syndrome and I’ve been yELLING about them ever since i’ve read them!! (also bunnie is fantastic and lovely in general 10/10)

if you thought you saw me 

i’d think about it twice

cuz while i know i’m naughty

everybody thinks i’m nice

cutest giggles get me

places that i long to be

but it’s not long before

everybody hates me

when you figure out i’m fucked up

you’ll probably think that can’t be right

but babe my image runs to save me

cuz i’m ugly day and night

nothing good about me

not the angel that i seem

cuz i’m a piece of shit

and i’ll ruin your fuckin dreams

i’m an impostor babe

you better run for your life

cuz there’s a bloodlust runnin through me

and you’re dripping off my knife

there’s no one here to save you

cuz you ate up all my lies

so beg me while you can

and draft up all your goodbyes 

if any of y’all are inspired by anything i put out, feel free to take it and run!! you have my blessing!! i am so overwhelmingly flattered by people who like my stuff enough to create because of it, directly or indirectly! lyrics, art, songs, anything!! legit! I love you!!

okay so designed to hurt (touch me) has big House of Memories by Panic! At The Disco vibes, and YES it’s about Corpse. YES it sends mixed messages. YES it has greek myth imagery and YES that imagery is confusing. not sure if any of these sets of lyrics actually go after each other but also idk??

will my fall from grace be graceful / as each move i see you make? / propped up on pedestals side by side / beneath our feet they shake / i’m the only one to hear you ask  / “What have they done to me?” / My boy, your wax throne is sun-drenched / you’ll fall in the name of your legacy.

eyes like yours watched rome burn / while hands like mine lit the pyre / we both heard me say we’d go down in flames / now you’re turning me into a liar / since you smile like that, like you can’t feel the sting / and we both know i can’t feel the fire

been telling myself i’m designed to hurt / but, baby, aren’t we a sight? /

check your reflection, your angles, apollo / you’re icarus in the right light /

we’re on the edge, i’m not scared to fall / we’ll take refuge in the night /

been telling yourself you’re designed to hurt / but, baby, doesn’t this feel right?

also, albumtouralbumtour is a reference to Bohemian Rhapsody.

OKAY AND FINALLY

n o s t a l g i a - the album the reader’s working on during the fic.

literally as i was writing this, bunnie sent through some FIRE lyrics for how the light gets in, (@bingusmode) i am going to be thinking about these on REPEAT for the next MONTH BRUV

little bit of darkness, treat me like a toy 

i got my hopes up and got them destroyed

bitter taste of regret sitting heavy on my tongue

can’t believe i let you convince me that you were the one

sitting here in silence, fabric running thin

petals burning in my lungs and stealing oxygen

embers from a cigarette falling to the floor

god i can’t take anymore

so i stumble to the window and pull the shades

and the moon pours in like you threw a grenade

i can’t understand why

i keep trying

cuz i never seem to win

but having any hope is how the light gets in 

from there, moment before impact ft. Billie Eilish is a club anthem along the lines of bad guy or COPYCAT, bass heavy with a drop that’s out of this world.

powdered pain, i’m in your veins / i’m the sting, the drip, the thing / you’re craving, but you hate to see me misbehaving / i heard my breakdown got you high / it’s true, but baby i can’t lie / i never got that rush, that burn / that makes you feel alive, i had to learn / to pick the slippery slope down which i fell / plan my pitstops on the way to hell / to pick my padding before i spiral / so if i break it’ll be in style

watch my misdirect, now freeze, / notice you can’t see the forest for the trees / you’re so desperate for my demise / but baby, i’ll make you watch me rise.

this is the moment before impact

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i know you hope i’m not okay / you get off on my audio misery

controlled chaos, crash land / take a breath, trust the plan / i need you to know i want it this way / my breakdown won me a grammy

and this is the moment before impact

ur my favourite - interlude ft. sykkuno is probably one of my favourites, it’s just really soft, just a snippet of a conversation between the reader and sykkuno, maybe one of them told a joke and they both just sound real happy and sweet. its nice. it’s a nice moment.

means something is also for sykkuno!! it’s about how good-strange it is to be open and honest with friends, and how they usually aren’t but they’re glad they can be open and honest with him!!

meanwhile, i don’t think about u - interlude ft. CORPSE is a phonecall between corpse & the reader right after they announce they’re going to feature on acting like that, where corpse asks if they do this sort of thing to spite him, to which the reader responds ‘do i consider you when i’m making decisions about my career? no, corpse, actually i don’t think about you at all’ which then directly contrasts the song that ends the album, which is (how it feels to be) beautiful fireworks, which is essentially ‘i know how hard it is to exist like this, to be the centre of attention, to give off light and bring people joy, even when you’re in pain. i’m here for you. i love you.’

okay, i swear im done now, i’ll get back to writing the fic! (also i cannot BELIVE i managed to figure out how to embed those playlists but im so happy) edit: it didn’t actually work when i posted the ask, so anyways im sorry but y’all are abt to be spammed with playlists because i care too much abt this fic

[neverendingstories00]

Past The Point Of No Return (Ch.9/FINALE)

Pairing: Safin x F!Reader

Summary: You attempt to adjust back to your mundane lifestyle, but Safin still haunts you. Safin makes sure to let the world know that you are his and only his.

Word Count: 4.6k

Warnings: N/A

A/N: GUYS!! It's the final chappie...😖 Dw, there's an epilogue that is going to come very shortly. I know this has been short, but it's been a really fun ride. I promise to write more fics in the future. I might take a small break since school and that I've been writing non-stop for the past week and posting the chappies at like 3am. Anwyays, I stayed up until 2am to finish this for you guys. Your support and comments literally make my day so thank you once again! Hope you guys enjoy this ❣️❣️

MASTERLIST

Three months on that dreaded island, and the world hadn’t changed. M16 was still running, the protests still occurred, and you (surprisingly) were still alive. You returned to your old apartment and saw the desk where you had meet Safin, imaging the knife that was uncomfortable close to your neck. The way he had sniffed your hair and his nickname, clever girl, rolled off of his tongue. In your apartment, you always thought Safin was going to be waiting for you at every corner.

All of your family and friends were overjoyed seeing your alive. Your poor mother and sister sobbed as they held you close and gave a thousand thanks to M16. In those months you were gone, everybody was sure that you had died or were killed in a horrible manner. Your mother didn’t even want to know what you had gone through. Her arms were wrapped tightly around your body as her tears stained your shoulder,

“Just stay with me. Please.” Her broken voiced cracked. “I can’t lose you again, y/n.”

That had marked the first time you ever cried in front of your coworkers. You knew it was unprofessional, but after months of captivity, you were even more damaged then you were before. Being inside of your own body and clothes made you painfully uncomfortable. You constantly took showers and changed your clothes because everything reminded you of Safin. No longer could you wear in a braid since you lay on Safin’s chest and he’d unravel the braid, running his fingers as you two walked. All of the dresses in your closet you threw out, just looking at them made you think of the night after that dinner where Safin requested a kiss.

Even if it wasn’t there, he haunted you every second.

Safin had been locked away in M16’s underground emergency headquarters. Nomi reported that he was under constant surveillance. He was polite to most of the guards, requesting a copy of a Brave New World. It was absolutely bizarre, but they gave it to him. They tried to force information of out him, but he wouldn’t budge. No reason why he kidnapped you, wanted control over post-soviet countries, or any of the sadistic actions he had done. Upon seeing Bond, M, or any agent, he would ridicule and tear them down. It turned out the woman he had previously loved was Madeleine. He had attempted to create a clone with his and Madeliene’s blood but failed. Nobody had a single idea of what he was capable of. Not even you knew what Safin held. But all M16 knew was that he was a classified global threat that was taken down by his own prisoner. His downfall had begun after his capture. The protests had been contained by goverments and other international spy agencies. M had promised that he would never ever step within a mile of your location.

It all seemed too normal to be true.

The month following your return, you decided to get back into the line of action two weeks after your arrival. Your mother had voted against it, but you needed it more than anything. Anything to get Safin out your mind. Your first day in office was full of questions from all of your co-workers.

“What did he do to you?”

“What was Safin’s lair like?”

‘What was under the mask?”

You could never respond with the truth. The nights were he had fucked you with his tongue down your throat; your neck decorated in red marks. How he had married the two of you and took you on expensive shopping trips. The only people who knew of the truth were Nomi, Bond, and M. That was all. It all seemed like a drug trip gone wrong. After your first week back, the questions had gone down. Moneypenny would come to your desk with a report, a smile on her clear skin. “Welcome back, C”. It made you smile, taking the report and typing away. Being back to your mundane life was going to get taking use to it. No longer would you have nights of true pleasure in your life ever again. But it was for the better. You were utterly damaged beyond belief, but hid in deep in your body. Your broken, crippled soul.

Q had been one of your closest acquaintances in M16. Upon first meeting him, a rivalry was sparked between you two. Q had been deemed the smartest person in M16. With you, a stubborn and young recruit, he shook in his shoes. You thought he hated you at first, but he stated that he considered you a “boon companion”. The man spoke with such large words. You told him to simply call you a “friend”, and that is where your friendship that slowly began to grow.  

You knew you weren’t suppose to tell him, but you did. Every single bit of it. He would come over to your apartment every night with Chinese Food, listening with his Miso Soup as you explained your experience on the island. Q wasn’t one for gossip and you trusted him with all of the information you had told him. Not only was he a colleague, but a confidant.

The ring was minimanlistic gold band with thin, dainty diamonds. It was easy to miss. Q looked at your hand, examining the ring.

“You’re married to him?”

You nodded in response. “I am. He had a whole ceremony, and a priest held at gunpoint. I’ve taken the ring off…”

“Regardless, your still...married to him.” Q had seen some bizarre events over the years, but this was truly baffling. One of his friends was forcefully married to the world’s most feared anarchist.

“Do you think I wanted to be? I can’t forget about him. He’s still there..”

“In solitary confinement. He’s being guarded twenty-four seven. Safin isn’t going to be leaving anytime soon.” Q attempted to console. He was horrible with emotions. “I checked every database I could and tried to find any ties connected to him, but nothing came up. If they do, I’ll make sure to alert you of them.”

Holding the ring in your fingers, you spun it around. A sigh escaped your mouth. “Q, I...can’t. He..we..”

“He took advantage of you. All of the threats he had made were meant to scare you. I know you tried to fight back. Everything you had gone through...I apologize.” Q said, a hint of guilt in his voice. “Day and night, I tracked for your location. We thought Spectre had taken you. Safin had made sure there was no trace of you. Months prior, he had been planning this. He was obsessed with you. Only If I had kn-”

“I’m here now. I’m not leaving.” You confirmed, trying to sound confident. Safin couldn’t hurt you anymore. He was locked away, never to be shown to the world again. “Thanks to your and your little trick, I got out.”

“A prisoner bringing down her captor. That is quite impressive, C.”

“And I’ll do it again.” You promised. Q nodded in response, a sly smile on your face. He grabbed his Sake and the two of your cheered, drinking your sorrows away. Q wasn’t one for words. Whenever he grabbed his Sake, it was a silent reminder that your secrets were safe with him. Always.

-----

It all started with your period. Even before meeting Safin, your period was becoming spottier and came at late dates. You shrugged it out and thought nothing of it. But after your arrival home, not only did your mental health decline but so did your pyshical wellbeing. It all started with your frequent mood swings at work and home, causing sleepless nights. Your doctor prescribed you with bipolar medication, but it never worked. All it did was make you more paranoid and sensitive.

Your period came late. It was spotty and faint, and had disappeared two days later. Your heart beat was increasing, you breasts became larger as they ached, and you felt nauseous without getting sick. Those had been the major symptoms.

It wasn’t until you had fainted infront during a presentation that Q had decided it was best for you to go to a doctor. He had noticed the bags under your eyes, fatigue, and slight change in weight.

Inside of the doctor’s office, you looked down, rapidly tapping your foot. What the hell was happening to you? Were you truly going insane. Everything hurt so much.

Q placed his hand on your thigh, making the shaking stop. Looking over at him, your face was full of worry.

“He’ll put you on stronger medication, C. Your going to be fine.”

As you wanted to respond, the doctor opened the door and shut it behind him, looking at the papers as he tilted his glasses down.

Sitting up, you look at him, eager for an answear.  Your expectations were low for anything major. “What is the issue, docter?”

Sorting out his papers, he answered, “From your test, it appears that your...pregnant.”

The shaking stopped. Your breathing become lower as everything became blurry and muffled. Everything was numb. This was the last thing that you needed. It had to be a false test. There was no way you could be holding his child. It wasn’t possible.

“No...No…” You managed to mutter. Q looked over at you, pity in his eyes. “Please, I can’t do this,”

The doctor looked down at you, understanding your distress. He knew about who the father could potentially be.

“I’m sorry, I am..” He gulped as he shook his head. It didn’t seem like what he was going to tell you was good news.

“Your five months pregnant, y/n. It’s too late for an abortion.”

Everything dropped around you. Looking at your stomach, you felt disguetd with yourself. Inside your stomach, you were carrying his child. Safin’s offspring. Inside of your stomach was a growing monster.

The doctor interrupted, trying to make the best out of a positive situation. He said that you could give the child up to adoption and that he knew plenty of parents that wanted a child. All you did was want to leave the godawful place. A few short minutes later you had left with Q. Q barely spoke a word, seeing the disallief on your face.

Getting into Q’s Landrover, you close the door, looking straight foward.

“Q?” You muttered, turning to him.

He looked back at you, awaiting for your response.”Yes?”

“Is the office still open?”

Q furrowed an eyebrow, perplexed. “Why do you want to go at such a late hour?”

You looked at your stomach before looking back at Q.

“I have unfinished business I need to attend to.”

-----

Q had begged for you to reconsider, but you ignored him. You were furious, hurt, and upset. Not only at yourself, but Safin. He would always whisper in your ear that you were “past the point of no return”. After months of speculation, you finally knew why. Even if he was imprisoned, Safin had to mark you to let the world know that you were his and only his. It was all some sick and twisted plan.

Walking down into the emergency room, you entered the room and saw him, locked away in a glass cell. Safin looked the same, except he wore an nude jumpsuit. It had been two months since you had last saw him. His last, cold whisper with heartbroken eyes as he was dragged away. A subtle smile appeared on his face as he put his book down.

“My dear y/n, you’ve finally come to visit.” He greeted. “I was beginning to miss you.”

“YOU FUCKING ARSEHOLE!” You screeched like a banshee. Attempting to bang on the glass cell doors, the guards help you back. “HOW DARE YOU!”

Safin raised one of his eyebrows, confused. He scalded y/n’s body, seeing the tired face and somewhat noticeable bump. She still looked like her beautiful self. But there was something rather off about her appearance. When on his island, y/n looked happier. Like she had been sleeping more, letting down his guard. But when she returned home, all of the happiness had evaporated from her body. Safin could’t hate the woman that betrayed him. After all, y/n was his wife.

“What you mean?” He queried. “Isn’t this what you wanted? Did’t you say you needed me?”

“Do you want this?” Safin panted, looking down at you. Seeing him on top of him, he’s truly a stunning man. His velvety voice was making you wet. Instead of sounding pissed off, he sounded calm and even caring.

“Shut up, please.” Your hand traveled to his cheek, gently patting it. “I-”

Two of his fingers enter your clitoris, causing you to bite your lip. It was a painful reaction at first, but then became pleasurable. You could no longer hide your pleasure and let out a small moan. “N-need it.”

“I never asked to be pregnant! Especially with this!”

Safin simply shook his head, perplexed to why you had been acting so angry about your pregnancy. You were going to become his wife, it was bound to happen. “I thought you would have learned sooner. I don’t see why you are so distressed, my love.”

“Don’t fucking my love me, Safin.” You snapped back as tears began to prick at your eyes. “You used all these threats against my work and family for me to obey your little commands. Face it, you took advantage of me.”

“Took advantage of? What are you speaking of, y/n?” Safin stood up from sitting and walked close to the glass to get a better look at you. “When I first saw you, I knew you were going to mine. My wife, my companion, my light, forever. That child inside of you is our creation. Can you imagine what he or she will do?”

“Your carrying one of the elites. I know this transformation is painful, but they will be beautiful and smart like there mother. They will carry on for me and you, build a new world. Just like we will do.” Safin calmly stated in his silkly accented voice. He seemed so confident and calm in his wording as if the situation had been totally normal. “If you try to give him up, I swear on my life that I will find the child and you again. SPECTRE will want that child more than anything else.”

“This child or SPECTRE will never know of your existence.” You maintained, trying not to go emotional. Safin could never his child for thousnads of reasons. The last thing you wanted was to have another Safin running around the world. “It will grow up fatherless. It cannot be exposed to such a monstrous man.”

The calm composure of Safin quickly changed. His expression became more scrunched as his hands clenched into fists. “He is my child too, y/n. We bleed the same blood. I demand to see him. It is only fair.”

Stepping back, you shaked your head. As long as you were alive, that child was going to be far away from Safin. “It’s only fair to the child that they grow up normal.”

“Normal?” Safin quietly muttered, before booming. “HE IS OUR CHILD, WOMAN? HAVE YOU NOT SEEN ME? HAVE YOU NOT SEEN MY WORK? THAT CHILD IS NOT A FOLLOWER, HE IS A LEADER! WHAT DO YOU NOT SEE?”

You jumped back, startled by this yelling. The guards had turned to him, pointing there guns. The last thing they needed was a riled Safin.

“I see everything. You are going to be locked in here, forever. Charged for your crimes agaisnt humanity, and Myself?” You explained as you looked at your stomach before meeting the eyes of your husband. “Will raise the child as my own. Be a mother and raise them to be the opposite of there father. We may be married, but I am not connected to you. I’m breaking all ties with you. You hurt me, manipulated me, used me. That’s not what love is. I have never, and will never love you, Safin. Goodbye.”

Safin looked heartbroken and betrayed, unable to respond to such a thing. For the first time in forever, he looked defeated. The anarchist was so happy to have you as his wife and an offspring to call his own, but his dreams had been crushed. His own wife didn’t love him and his child would never know who he is. Safin would never see the only person he truly loved ever again.

Spinning on your heel, you walked out of the room with Q behind you. Tears fell from your eyes as you stopped at and looked at the empty office with a hand on your face. Safin’s child was growing inside of you. You were far past the point of return now as you carried one of the most dangerous men in the world’s child. But it wasn’t just Safin’s child, it was your as well. You were going to be this child’s mother now, whether you liked it or not. If SPECTRE or anybody had found them, they would be killed on spot. You refused to let an innocent child go through such pain. Just because it had Safin’s blood didn’t mean it was a monster. Evil was not born, but made. It was your duty as a former solider and new mother to serve your country and family.

Your child may bleed Safin’s blood, but it will never become anything similar to his father under your eyes.

-----

THREE YEARS LATER

Louis was the best thing that had happened to you. When you first saw him, held him, you knew you loved him. The child would always cry and fuss in everybody else’s arms but yours. After your difficult birth, the nurses tried to comfort Louis but he simply wouldn’t stop crying. When the nurses had given him to you he had stopped crying and slept in your arms. Holding Louis, all of the pain and anxiety in the world had gone away. He was the light in your darkness.

Everybody who had met the child loved him. Your closest acquaintances at M16 such as Moneypenny and Q knew about Louis. Moneypenny always offered to babysit while Q would bring his cats to be Louis’s first friends. Bond and Nomi had given him the nickname “big man” and Madeleine, to your surprise, thought Louis was a sweetheart.

You’re first week as a mother wasn’t the most ideal. It was full of crying, confusion, and uncomfort. Whenever you looked at Louis, he reminded you of Safin. Everything about him made Safin upon your eyes. But you kept telling yourself that they were two separate people. Safin was locked away, never to see your child or you ever again. You were safe.

Three years had gone by fast. You were no longer a girl, but a woman. You still continued your job at M16 as usual; encrypting, decrytping, helping the double oh agents with there missions. Nothing had changed, except you were a mother.

Your work shifts had gotten shorter due to your commitment. Instead of working to four am, you were strictly prohibited (Moneypenny’s words) to only work to Nine. It didn’t seem ideal at first. But as the days had gone on, your highlight would come home to Louis, running to your legs and hugging them. It brought a true smile to your face. It was the first one you had felt that was genuine in years.

Unlocking the door and opening it, Louis had ran up to your legs, jumping up and down that you were home.

“Mama! Home!” He smiled. You picked him up as he kissed your face, and you responded back with kisses as well. Louis had a minor speech delay and could only piece together certain words. Everybody had found it adorable.

[Y/s/n] came up to you, crossing her arms. “Let mama walk in the door and breathe for five seconds, Lou.”

“It’s fine, [y/s/n]. He’s just excited.” You reassured. Placing Louis down, you rub his head as he runs back to building his lego. Needing a drink, [y/s/n] leads you to the kitchen to make you one drink to ease your nerves.”

“How was work?” She asked, grabbing the glasses as she worked her magic.

You shrugged in response, “Same old shit. Glad to be home though, I got two days off.”

“Really? I thought you never got work off.”

“Thought so too. My supervisor gave me the weekend off. He wanted me to relax.” You explained. [Y/s/n] handed you a drink and you too toasted before gulping them down.

“You can get a break from him, if you want.” You offered. It was your only time to spend with Louis alone. Your sister smiled at the idea.

She had a growing family and life of her own as well. “Really?”

“Yeah, I need some time with him. I just want him to know what I love him..”

“Y/n..” Your sister patted your shoulder. “He knows that. Remember when he was a baby and James tried to hold him, but he got kicked in the face? When’s he around you, he’s calm. He loves you more than anything in the world.”

“Your not even a mother, yet you’re so motherly.” You smirked.

She chuckled back in response. “He’s one of the [y/l/n]’s. It’s my duty to be his aunt.”

Louis ran into the kitchen, bored with his project. All he wanted to do was be with his mama. Running up your legs, Louis grabbed the pant and tugged on them. “Mama?”

“Yes, Lou?” You looked down, moving his unruly dark curls out of his beautiful bronze face. He had Safin’s beautiful bluish-green eyes that always shined. Although nothing like his father, Louis was the copy and paste of Safin.

“Storytime..please?” Louis begged with his puppy eyes.

“Of course..” You smiled. Louis ran off to his bedroom to wait patiently for his story.

Your sister looked and smiled at you. “He’s amazing..”

“I know. Everybody knows..”

-----

Louis hadn’t even gotten through the first few pages without falling asleep on your shoulder. As you read through Beauty And The Beast, his little snores stopped your sighing. Looking down at him, Louis was truly a beautiful little boy. He had dark curly brown hair, bronzed olive skin, big bluish-green eyes, and chubby cheeks. You had gotten used to the fact that Louis was identical to Safin. He shared his blood, but Louis and Safin were two different people. Safin was a broken and misunderstood Anarchist while Louis was a sweet, little boy.

As hard as it was to believe, Safin was once a young childhood who didn’t know anybody better. His innocence had been stripped away from him at a young age, scarring him permanently with internal and external wounds.

You should hate him for he had done to you. What he had done to the world and the pain. But yet, a small part of you missed him.

You missed the way Safin gave you what no other man could give you. How he treated you not only with true obsessive love but spoiled you with endless gifts and kisses. How his fingers would play with your hair, his sweet nicknames, how he promised to kill and die for you. Safin worshipped you like a god. When he had kidnapped you, at first you hated him more than anything in the world. But as time had gone on and he became more vulnerable, you began to fall for him. You were a scared beauty who fell for the broken beast.

What if M16 had never come for you? Safin would have been your husband, whether you liked it not. Louis would have to grow up with Safin’s influences, trapped in a Submarine Pen. You didn’t want to imagine what Safin wanted with your child. What he would use it for in his sick game of Anarchy and Discord. Just the thought of Safin made you happy, sad, and confused. You pulled Louis close and stroked his curls, wanting to protect him. Maybe you should have slept with him to make sure he was safe.

Safin was locked away. He wouldn’t hurt you again.

Why did you miss someone you hated so much?

After taking off your prosthetic and rolling into your bed, you throw the covers over your cold body. Your whole life you had always felt alone. Connections were hard for you to make, no matter how hard you tried. In your thirty two years of life, you had always felt disconnected from the world. Something had to be wrong with you. The bed was big enough for two people, but there was only one person. As you make yourself comfortable, you notice a burning candle on the nightstand. It makes you think back to that night in Greece, with Safin’s hands travelling over your body as he passioantly made love to you. Safin wasn’t a man you had met everyday. He was an Anarchist who happened to be obsessed with you and your legal husband. The ring was still on your finger to this day. Looking at it made you subtly smile to yourself. Why were you so happy about him? Safin was unpredictable. One minute you symathized for him, wanted him, or hated him.

But then you realized it.

Safin’s love for you was unhealthy. He had stalked your whole life and pre planned your kidnapping to be his bride. You had thought you were going to be used a bargaining trip, but it was the total opposite. The more you learned (and obsered) Safin, you realized that he was human as well. He was a lonely evil man who yearned for love. The love he had experience was eithier negative or nothing. Upon seeing you, Safin wanted you, but didn’t know how to win you over. He made you a garden, gave you expensive items, a bedroom instead of a cell, yet you refused to love him. It wasn’t until Greece where you began to slighlty sympathieze with him. It would never justify his actions. When you had fucked, all you needed was a distraction. Both of you had been touchstarved. When that occurred, Safin had assumed you were in love. He did whatever he took for you to love him, even if it meant killing for freinds and family or forcing you into a loveless marriage.

It was for the better that Safin was locked away in a glass cell for the rest of his days. You and Louis could try to live a somewhat normal life. You would never experience a true connection again. But it was okay with you. If you could most of your life being confused and yearning, then you could do it for as long as you lived. Louis was the only reason you were going on with life. His smile and how his eyes twinkled in the light made you cry; he was truly a star.

You would never admit it to anyone, not even your cloest friends or family, but a small part of you did truly love Safin. You wanted to help him, but he was far past the point of the return. It was better if he was out of your life.

Looking into the burning candle, your eyes begin to flutter shut. You suddenly feel warm again, like your being held and watched over. It always felt like you were never alone. Safin was a lingering phantom that intrigued and haunted you. He was always watching you.

And yet, a small part of you truly loved Safin.

[hatsukeii]

𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐒𝐮𝐠𝐚𝐫

𝐏𝐭. 𝟏- 𝐋𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐧𝐬

𝐖𝐨𝐫𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐧𝐭: 𝟏.𝟓𝐤

𝐖𝐚𝐫𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐠𝐬: 𝐃𝐞𝐩𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐬𝐢𝐨𝐧, 𝐩𝐚𝐧𝐢𝐜 𝐚𝐭𝐭𝐚𝐜𝐤, 𝐞𝐦𝐨𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 𝐚𝐛𝐮𝐬𝐞, 𝐜𝐮𝐫𝐬𝐢𝐧𝐠

He was a Tsukishima.

The family of successful people.

Scholars, athletes, politicians, the list goes on.

In the Tsukishima family line, academics were essential. Skills were essential. Talent was essential. Foolishness was not tolerated. Weakness was not tolerated. Clumsiness was not tolerated. Everyone was expected to be at tip top shape at all times, both physically and mentally. Manners were a must. Manners make a man, or so do the elders constantly remind. Gold medals were expected to be seen after competitions. Anything below that was worthless. The Tsukishimas were raised to be in a higher class than others. They mingled with the wealthy, frowned upon the powerless and poor. Mental health was the least of the family’s worries. They had money, they had a reputation, they had a talented bloodline, what was there to worry about anyways?

His full name was Tsukishima Kei, and he was the outcast.

His mother averted her eyes from his direction as he treaded down the flight of stairs to the dining area. She’s always done this. The moment Kei was diagnosed with farsightedness, the Tsukishima family knew he was no good. An omen, they said. With those weird, clunky glasses, the family constantly made passive aggressive comments regarding his sight. You thought he would be safe from his parents? Oh no, you would be wrong. Akiteru was hugely favoured over Kei. He was handsome, tall, well built, smart, he had a bright future ahead of him. Kei? He was scrawny, had sight problems, felt inferior to everybody else. The family had deemed him no good as a child, that wasn’t going to change because of puberty.

He sat at the table quietly, munching on his toast. As usual, his mother was preparing breakfast for Akiteru. As the older sibling jogged down the stairs, he was met with a welcoming smile, along with a bowl of steaming hot ramen. “Good morning son! Come over and have some food won’t you?” Hearing his cue to leave, Kei grabbed his bag, wiped the crumbs off his mouth, and headed out the door, but not before giving his older brother a tiny wave, in which he returned with a small grin and a peace sign. Perhaps Akiteru was the one person that didn’t treat him like shit. Maybe it was because if he did, Kei would tell everyone how he lied about being the ace of Karasuno. Although his kindness was fuelled by a shallow reason as so, it felt nice being treated well once in a while, even if it wasn’t truly genuine.

“Tsukki! Tsukki! Wait up!” Yamaguchi yelled from behind him as he jogged towards the blond. “Morning Tsukki!” The two stood in silence, waiting for the next train to arrive. This routine had been going on for years. Every morning Yamaguchi would meet up with Tsukishima at the train station, then they would head off together. Yamaguchi was one more thing the Tsukishimas frowned upon. When Kei beamed about how he defended the poor boy who was being bullied, instead of praises he received criticism. Bucketloads of criticism from everyone in his family. What was supposed to be an honourable act of kindness towards the less fortunate became the butt of a joke for the family to berate endlessly. To them, Yamaguchi was the perfect example of the weak. The weak were not tolerated. Tsukishimas were raised to frown upon them. They were higher than others. They minded their own business and had a reputation to keep. The world saw them as elegant, graceful, and privileged. They didn’t see them as charitable, soft, or weak. However, Kei paid no mind to his family’s stupid, cold hearted, absolutely fucking ridiculous “ideals”. He was an outcast, would forever be an outcast, might as well live on his own terms if his family couldn’t accept him.

“So, what’d you get on the test? I only managed to score a B-, it was so hard wasn’t it?” He stared at his paper, a huge A written and circled at the top of it. “I mean I think I did-”

“Really good? It’s not an A+. You couldn’t get it perfect so try harder next time. This isn’t good enough.”

His mouth hung open as he stopped abruptly at his words. Oh of course, how could he have forgotten? The constant criticism he received was not only from his family, but from himself as well. His grades were the only valuable thing about him, but it was never good enough. He was top of the class, but never the top of the school. Never the best player on the court. Never the best friend. “Eh, not that great. I should’ve done better considering I spent all day studying for the past week. I got the same score last time too, I doubt it’ll get any better than this.” Scrunching his nose, Yamaguchi leaned in, taking a peek of Tsukishima’s test. “Tsukki, you did so good! Ah, but it’s expected from you, always so harsh on yourself! Chill out a little bit, you’ve got the best grades in our class already! You saying that just makes me sound stupid in your eyes...” Realising the impact his words had on his friend, he stuttered, thinking of something to say. “No, I promise Yamaguchi, you’re not stupid. If you were I wouldn’t have let you befriend me. Please don’t look down upon yourself like that, it’s not good.”

Slinking down the hall, Tsukishima manoeuvred around the sea of students trying to get out of the school, mumbling to himself under his breath. The constant shuffling of feet and people pushing him around were enough to make his head spin and his heart race so much so that he had to stop in the middle of the hall, grabbing his head in an attempt to stop the pulsing. “Move it bro, what the fuck?” Stop. “Dude, don’t just stand there, get out of the way blockhead!” Please, stop. Stumbling his way down the hall, his steps were uneven as his sight became hazy. Cold sweat slid down from his forehead, his chest heaving and his breaths ragged. He needed help. He needed help now, but there was no one. Everyone was too occupied trying to get out of the school. Usually Yamaguchi would be with him but he had art club and stayed behind. Panic attacks were nothing new to him. He would experience them randomly. Everything around him would become everything he feared. Death, disappointment, loss, burden. Yet there was not a single time he was able to calm himself down. He would make someone else worry about him all over again. Maybe he was a burden to people, but he didn’t care anymore. His family hated him enough for his flaws anyways, what’s a few extra people hating him gonna do anyways? He was seeing spots now, staggering down the stairs that he finally reached, when something- or rather someone, walked right into him.

“Hey, please watch where you’re- holy shit... are you okay? I’ll bring you to the nurse hold on-”

“N..no.”

“What?”

“Panic...attack...”

Your eyes widened like saucers as the situation dawned upon you.

“Oh... OH um uh I-”

Cmon stupid, think!

Grabbing his arm, you dragged him into a random classroom, almost tripping over air from him stumbling and his height. Shutting the door behind you, Tsukishima collapsed onto the cold floor, trembling as his eyes darted. You were panicking with him. Hell, you didn’t know how to deal with panic attacks. Pulling out your phone, your fingers tapped furiously as you tried to figure out how you could calm him down. “Mmmm cmon cmon something please...” The sobbing in the background did not help your panic at all. In fact, it made you even more anxious. You couldn’t just leave him here, you had to do something. Anything.

“I- uh, do you need anything? Water? A towel? Is there anything I can do?”

“Stay...stay here..”

Shuffling to his side, you waved your arms around him, trying to figure out what to do next, finally awkwardly settling one of your hands on his back. Giving him occasional pats, your read the instructions on healthline for what to do if someone was going through a panic attack. The next part was to give reassurance.

“I’ll stay here until you’re okay, so don’t worry. Are you feeling any better now?”

Feeling Tsukishima shift, you retracted your hand, putting it on your leg instead. His breathing had finally gone back to normal and he wasn’t shaking anymore. Pushing his glasses back up properly, he grabbed his bag from the floor, pulling the strap over his shoulder.

“Yeah, thanks. I’ll be heading out now.”

“Wait!”

He stopped in his tracks, but not sparing even a glance behind him.

“What’s your name?”

“You don’t have to know.”

He left without another word.

Because that’s what Tsukishimas do.

They walk away from others and hold their shit together by themselves.

Tags:

@sunshines-and-tatertots @izzyphantomgamer @tiger1719 @tiredgr3mlin @trashcanweeb @itmekisuu @fandomwriter73 @random-fandomlover @samanthaa-leanne @sneezefiction @bokutokoutarou @skyeackermans @writeiolite @kuroo-thought-of-a-better-un @ewfilthymundane @mariechan123 @saturnmoon @macaronnv @talks-a-lot-of-stuff @artsamber @kaylacinderella @agentvicinity @sakusasgarbage @tchalameme

[nomimits7]

Dream walkers | 2 kinda?

Title: Dream walkers

Genre: Yandere if that’s what this is called

Pairing: BTSot7 x reader

Warnings: Mental health that’s deteriorating is described. THIS IS NOT A FLUFFY FIC!! READ WITH CAUTION. I kind of have no idea. Yandere behaviour. THIS KIND OF DAYDREAMING IS MY OWN INTERPRETATION. The illness mentioned is real but by no means have I done any research on it.

Summary: when illusions you dreamed up to help cope with the loneliness, one day disappears because of your own foolishness. You thought there was nothing else left for you in this world. But as you’re lying on the shower floor and the world slowly fading around you, the last thing you expected to see are a pair of combat boots and sneakers belonging to those you somehow dreamed up.

First part

A/N: I have no idea... Oops I guess. Impulse is real and it apparently leads to shit like this. This just a drabble and very ( I mean extremely) short... 

∞

That day in the hospital they made you promise to never try and take away the only light they had in this dull world. They told you all about their Idol life and how they stumbled upon your beautiful mind. They even dared to tell you how much they craved you.

It wasn’t suppose to feel normal, you knew this, yet here you were smiling at their confession. It was beautiful to see their cheeks turn pink at your laughter. You instantly fell in love with them just like before, but your smile didn’t last. You knew you would have to return to your lonely life soon. Your cold apartment would never be the same without their presence there. their real presence.

It was indeed scary to think hoe depended on their company you have become. You might be addicted to them, if that is even possible. They could feel your shift in mood even before your face showed it. They knew why, but they had no idea how to address it. It was easier in their dreamed-up appearance to be direct. They would never fear any repercussions. But now… even if they craved your raw emotions they knew they wouldn’t be able to handle any eruption of emotion while in the same room as you. Things could get messy.

Your emotions got them high. They even perfected the act of riling you up right before they had to perform. The unexpected amount of raw feelings gave them a rush like no mundane drug ever could. Not that they ever tried any, they just knew it would never be able to compare. Luckily the doctor came by to discharge you.

“Miss Y/N? I would like to ask you a few questions in private if that is okay?” his gaze momentarily shifted to the seven idols that lounged around the room.

“Oh, you can talk to me with them in the room. We’re close and I am probably going to tell them any way so why not directly from the source?” You answered with a slight smile. Seriously, what could be so confidential?

“Very well. When they brought you in, they mentioned you sometimes would daydream? I took the liberty to do some tests while you were asleep, and I have found that you have a severe case of Maladaptive daydreaming. By severe I mean that it could be life threatening if you are not monitored daily. Mind if I ask what you do for a living?”

“I’m a writer. Why?” came your reply

“Well that explains it a bit. You can use your writing to ensure that you would never daydream to the extend that you begin living in your alternative universe. Simply put, you’ll have to at least allow yourself to write once a day to get some of that creativity out. Now that said, if you ever do fall into a lucid daydream the best option to get back to real life would be either to end your story, or via something that would almost be like a rude awakening. Good luck my dear, unfortunately there is nothing else we can do for you”

With that the doctor left. You sat in your bed for almost five minutes before a small scoff fell from your lips. What the doctor didn’t know was that you had somewhat suspected this. But you had to admit, it can get dangerous quickly. Especially with your very much alive and active mind.

“Y/N? Wh-Why don’t you move in with us? We could keep an eye on you. Besides it would be weird going back to our dorm without you. We miss you baby…” Jimin spoke up. Eyes hopeful as the rest of the members nodded their agreements.

Your heart felt like it would burst out of your ribcage. You have never felt your heart swell so much with adoration. Tears brimming your eyes as you hastily look over to Namjoon for confirmation. What you failed to notice was the visible intake of breaths. Your sudden spike in emotion was unexpected to say the least. None of them could wait to get out of there and keep you away from anything and everyone.

You were theirs and theirs alone to share laughs with, to pull pranks on, to cuddle with, to love unconditionally… to fuck like there’s no tomorrow. They intended to make you theirs in more ways than one, but for now they needed to get you out of your shitty apartments and safely into their dorms.

The fact that you barely had friends was just an added bonus that would ensure a smooth transaction from one place to another. The only problem they had at this stage was to contain their need to ravish you right here in the hospital. Luckily your attention was else were and you failed to see their inner battle.

“Only if you want to little one. We have more than enough room and we’ll be happy to have you. I could even get arrangements made so you could travel with us when we leave for events or tours. Luckily your work comes in the form of a laptop. What do you say little dove? Will you move in with us? Will you allow us to never let you go again?” Namjoon asked while tilting his head slightly to the side.

You would never know what your live could have been like if you have said no. You would never know how unnatural their behaviours truly were. You had no idea how much they played with your mind to make you agree to things no normal person would ever agree to. All you knew at this moment was that you wanted to move in with them. You wanted to see them and feel them every single day of your life. Nothing else mattered in more than that.

“Please” your reply sounded almost desperate. But the smile that grazed their lips was worth your vulnerability. It was worth they pain in your wrists to get to this point. It was worth cutting all other human interactions with.

“Please what angel?” Seokjin asked as he came closer to run his fingers through your hair. His eyes locked on yours with such intensity it made you feel small.

“Please let me move in with you. And please don’t ever let me go again” Your voice was almost softer than a whisper, but it was loud and clear to them. Finally, they have finally found someone worthy of their possessive behaviour. Someone willing to give up everything for them.

“Never again baby. Let’s go home” Hoseok said as Taehyung carried you bridal style out of the room, never to be seen by the public eye again. Why would they want to share such treasure when they finally had you all to themselves?

[were-all-idjits-here]

Still Alive, Part I: What About Dean?

Request from @totallyluciferr​ : the reader lives in a universe where Supernatural is fiction and they’re a big fan of SPN, so the reader is re-watching the episode where Dean and Castiel gets zapped to Purgatory, they suddenly get zapped to Sam and Amelia’s house. Then the reader tries to tell Sam that Dean is trapped in Purgatory and needs help. The reader ends up meeting and saving Dean. 

Pairing: Dean x Reader

Warnings: angst, cursing

A/N: this was meant to be a one-shot, but I have no self control and it got away from me and became super long. In an attempt to not make this 5000 miles long or make the end super rushed, I’ll be posting this in three parts. Hoping to have all three up by the 27th. @totallyluciferr​ thank you so much for being patient while I took forever to write this. Some mental health issues have made writing hard, but I want to make sure I take the time to get this done well the first time.

~~Read here on AO3~~

You noticed how heavy your head felt before you even opened your eyes. A hard, cold surface laid beneath you and you frowned. The last thing you remember was laying on the couch in your shitty apartment, trying to drown out your screaming neighbors on one side and the blaring music on the other with your favorite show, Supernatural. It had partially been working, even if you were annoyed at having to turn subtitles on to be able to understand some of what they were saying. You had almost nodded off right when Dean and Cas got zapped to Purgatory in the season 7 finale when there had been a bright white light. Had you fallen to the floor maybe? But what had the light been?

You groaned and slowly sat up, bringing a hand up to your head. Your forehead bumped something cold and you slowly opened your eyes, backing up a bit. You were suddenly very awake as you realized there was a gun pointed at you. You were even more awake when you followed the hand holding it up to the face and realized you were sprawled out on a nicely manicured lawn in front of Sam Winchester.

The two of you stared at each other for a moment before you broke the silence with a loud, “What the fuck!”

“Yeah, that’s what I’m thinking,” Sam growled, still pointing his gun at you. “Who the hell are you and what do you want?”

You blinked, jumping as you heard the safety click off. “Take it easy. I have no clue how I got here. I was on my couch one minute and now I’m here and this can’t possibly be real and holy shit, I must’ve had too much to drink and oh my god you’re Sam fucking Winchester, I thought this was just a TV show, what the fuck is going on—”

“Okay, easy, easy!” Sam lowered his gun, but still kept it tightly in his hand. He frowned before holding out a hand to help you up.

You hesitantly took it and let him pull you to your feet. Sam clicked the safety back on the gun and tucked it into the waistband of his pants. He roughly grabbed your wrist and yanked you across the backyard, up the steps of the back porch and through a back door into a dimly lit kitchen. You recognized the house as Amelia’s from the show and realized you must be somewhere either in or close to the season 8 premiere. In or close to the season 8 premiere—holy hell, had you seriously somehow been Blue scadooed into the TV? That couldn’t be possible, no fucking way—

“Hey, hey, hey—breathe!” Sam suddenly knelt in front of you from where he’d been rummaging through the cupboards. You suddenly realized the faint wheezing sound you’d been hearing was coming from you and it felt like your heart was about to beat out of your chest. You grabbed the table for support, your palm coming down flat on top of a fork. The prongs stung your hand, confirming this was real. You wouldn’t be able to feel pain in a dream, right?

A brown paper bag was suddenly thrust in front of you and you panted into it gratefully. After a few minutes, you could feel your pulse and breathing slow.

“That’s it, nice and slow,” Sam said, taking a deep breath in and slowly blowing it out. You mimicked him for several minutes until you felt coherent enough to set the bag down on the counter. “Hold this,” Sam said quietly, gently putting the silver fork into your hand. When nothing happened, he handed you a glass of water next. “Drink this.” Again, nothing happened and Sam sat down across from you, seeming satisfied.

You let a deep breath out slowly before asking, “How the hell is this real?”

Sam shook his head. It took all your restraint not to laugh at the famous wifi-shaped wrinkles that formed above his brow. “I don’t know.” He ran a hand through his hair, then down his face. “What did you mean you thought this was just a TV show? And how do you know my name?”

“It’s gonna sound insane.”

“I specialize in insane. Try me.”

You swallowed hard, taking another drink of water. “So, um…I came from this…world, I guess, where your and Dean’s lives are a TV show and you’re fictional characters. I was actually on the episode that shows the events that happened probably…six-ish months ago, fell asleep, saw a bright white light and then woke up in your backyard.”

Sam nodded. “Dean and I got zapped to some sort of universe forever ago where our lives were a TV show. We kept getting mistaken for the actors.”

“Jensen Ackles and Jared Padalecki?”

“Yeah, that sounds about right. Why would you wanna watch our lives anyway? It’s just a bunch of darkness and death and despair.” His face seemed to sink at the last sentence and you noticed his dark circles and sunken cheeks. You glanced at the clock you noticed behind him to see it read 3:30am. So he wasn’t sleeping. It made sense after everything he’d been through.

“Well, I mean…at first, it was kind of cathartic, watching the good guys win, ya know? Then I just got so attached to you and Dean as characters—er, people, I guess, that I just kept watching. I just wanted to root for you and watch you win.”

Sam smiled sadly. “Well, thanks, I guess. Haven’t been a lot of wins lately.”

“Yeah,” you said quietly, “I’m sorry. Thanks for saving the world and stuff.”

Sam gave you a smile that didn’t reach his eyes, avoiding your gaze as he picked some stray paint off the edge of the kitchen table. “So…what did you mean when you said you were on the episode about events six months or so ago? What happened?”

You hesitated, realizing how fragile of a state he was still in. “You sure you wanna know?”

His dark circles seemed even more prominent now. “When we…lost Dean?”

“Yeah,” you barely whispered.

Sam nodded, biting his lip and looking at his lap, renewing his efforts to pick at the table. The two of you sat in awkward silence for several minutes.

“I’m sorry you had to watch that,” you finally murmured.

“Yeah, me too.” He paused. “I’ve seen my brother die before, but it always felt like I could bring him back, ya know? This time…there isn’t even a body left to bring back. He’s really gone for good this time.” He sniffled. “But, I’ll figure out how to get you home, don’t worry—”

“Dean’s not dead,” you blurted.

Sam’s head shot up and he stared at you bug-eyed. “What?”

“He’s not dead. When monsters die, they go to Purgatory, which is where Dick went. That’s where Dean and Cas are. They’re still alive.”

Sam squinted suspiciously. “Says who? The show?”

You nodded. What followed was a long string of questioning from Sam about events from the show, no doubt trying to find out how accurate it was to his real life—which still felt insane to say; you still weren’t completely convinced one of your neighbors’ drug fumes hadn’t floated through your vents and triggered some sort of acid dream—and you answered them to the best of your ability.

By the time 45 minutes had flown by full of questions, you sighed. “Look, Sam, you said you’d been to my universe, so you know it’s a real place. I passed all your tests, so I’m not a monster that’s trying to drag you out of your apple pie life. How long has it been since Dean and Cas disappeared?”

“Six months,” Sam answered, his face still skeptic.

“Okay, so Dean was trapped in Purgatory for a year in the show. There’s a portal in Purgatory that lets humans escape, since they’re not supposed to be there. I don’t know how the hell we would do it, but if we can find where he emerges from Purgatory and somehow get a message to him, we can get him out.”

Sam opened his mouth to reply when a woman’s voice behind you suddenly said, “Sam? What’s going on?”

You spun around to see a sleepy Amelia standing in her PJs, looking at you blearily with wary dark eyes.

Sam glanced at you, then smoothly said, “She was on her way home from a friend’s sleepover and got lost. She stopped here to ask for help. I know her address and I’m gonna drive her home.”

Amelia frowned. “You were on your way home from a friend’s sleepover at almost five in the morning?”

“Things were getting a little too rowdy for me.” You hoped you looked and sounded convincing. “They’re big partiers and I guess I didn’t realize how big till the drugs came out and…” You did your best to look sheepish and shrugged. “I noped out of there.”

“Oh, yikes,” Amelia said. She looked at Sam. “You’ll be back soon?”

“Yeah,” he answered, grabbing a familiar set of car keys off the counter behind him. He stood and gave her a parting kiss. “Go back to bed. I’ll join you soon.” He motioned for you to follow as Amelia trudged back up the steps to the bedroom.

You stood in awe for a moment as Sam led you to the garage. The Impala. Baby. You gently reached out and touched the immaculate black paint, feeling a strange sense of calm as you looked over the car. Sam watched you from the driver’s side. “Big part of the show, I take it?”

“It’s practically its own character,” you replied. “If something happened to Baby, I’d probably cry.”

Sam chuckled as he climbed in. “Dean would’ve loved you.”

You climbed in after him, making sure to take care with how you shut the door. You sighed as you settled down on the leather seat. This felt good. This felt like home. “Would, Sam. He’s still alive.”

Sam glanced at you warily before opening the garage door and firing up the engine. He didn’t reply as you backed out of the driveway and sped down the road. “There’s a motel about five miles away. I’ll get you a room for a couple days while I figure out how to get you home. Don’t worry about the bill.”

“I don’t want to go home, Sam, I want to find Dean.”

“Listen, this isn’t a life you should want just because some TV show romanticizes hunting. Hunting isn’t some noble, epic good versus evil battle. It’s brutal and all it has is death and darkness and pain. You lose people all the time, there’s risk of you dying all the time, you see things you can never unsee—”

“Yes, I know, I do watch the show. I’m not saying the life is like that, I’m saying you’re doing something. You’re saving people and through that, proving your worth. Plus it’s not like I don’t have my own trauma, you know. My life home is shit. I don’t even have anyone or anything, a shit apartment, a shit job—”

“I’m not saying you don’t have your own trauma or that it isn’t as valid. But you seriously think this is better? If it weren’t for Amelia, I wouldn’t have anyone right now either.”

“But Dean’s alive, Sam! We can save him!”

“Just stop talking about it, okay?”

“Why won’t you believe me? I aced your quiz back in the kitchen.”

“I just don’t know if I believe you. That’s a show, it’s Hollywoodized! This is real life!”

“Do you really not believe or do you just not want to believe me?” Sam didn’t reply, but you could see how white his knuckles were as they gripped the wheel. You had always been frustrated with the fact that Sam didn’t look for Dean in the show, but had always held a level of sympathy for him. That level was quickly evaporating. If it was Dean you were talking to, he probably would’ve taken any chance—no matter how small—that his brother was alive and done something with it. You saw the motel fast approaching out the window and knew you were quickly losing your chance. “How many times as Kevin called you, hm? Kevin needs help, I have proof that your brother’s alive and we can save him and you’re seriously just gonna sit here on your ass—”

The Impala’s tires screeched as Sam made a hard right into the motel parking lot, barely putting the car in park before yanking the keys out of the ignition. “Stay here,” he growled before slamming the door closed behind him and stomping into the lobby.

You fumed in your seat, pulling out your phone to find that you did have signal. You quickly opened the Notes app and jotted down the place where you remembered Dean emerges from Purgatory in the show before you forgot. Since someone wasn’t interested in helping you, maybe you would just have to make a visit yourself. But he wouldn’t escape for another six months. How the hell were you going to speed that time frame up? Witchcraft, maybe? But you didn’t know anything about hunting. If you tried to contact a witch, you would end up dead for sure.

Just as you were googling where the nearest library was, a knock on your car window made you jump. Sam stood there, still fuming and holding two keys in his hand. You rolled your eyes and got out, following him into room 205 on the second floor. He slammed the door behind you, pointing a long finger at you. “You stay in this room until I can figure out a way to get you home—and you are going home. Don’t get any funny ideas.”

“So you’re trapping me here? Should I assume both of those keys are for you then?”

He handed over a key, along with a credit card to your surprise. “This is for clothes and food. I don’t know how long it’ll take me to get you home.” He handed you his phone next. “Put in your number and name.”

You begrudgingly complied and handed him your phone to do the same.

“Stay,” Sam said again as he made his way towards the door. “You’ll thank me later.”

“What about Dean?”

Sam sighed, pausing in the doorway. “We’ll see. But there’s no way he’s still alive.”

“I’m telling you, there is.”

You saw Sam’s shoulders heave for a brief moment. “I’ll look into it.” With that, he slammed the door behind him and you heard the click of the lock, completing your cage.