#WHAT ARE YOU ODING TO ME

[simcardiac-arrested]

compensation :-]

CAN ANYBODY HEAR ME

[ode2rin]

“it is because of your negligence that we're stuck here with each other,” you spat at him, the words laced with a bitter edge, and rin couldn't ignore the way you emphasized each word as if it were a weapon.

and from the way his chest was contracting against his ribcage, maybe they were indeed sharp knives out to get him. 

rin felt the weight of your accusation pressed against his chest, a stark contrast to the sweet nothings the two of you once exchanged beneath the sheets of love, where “i love you's” had been met with smiles, and the world had seemed so full of promise.

but now, things had taken a dark turn, and neither of you could pinpoint when or how it had all gone wrong. you wouldn't tell him– wouldn't let him turn things around.

rin's anger flared, his words escaping through clenched teeth. "my negligence? you're really pinning this on me, again?"

your eyes locked onto his, a warning in their depths. "don't go there."

he pushed on, relentless, “go where? you know i'm right. you always pin things against me.”

you didn’t respond , but you looked at rin in a way that made him want to fall on his knees and beg you — beg you to just tell him what more he can do for you to stop looking at him like this.

only if it was that easy, no — because it was a look of indifference, a look in your eyes that’s telling him none of his words were right anymore, and everything he says had not been good enough to attempt to fix things.

“let's just tell them we're done and leave this shitty reunion,” rin suggested with a note of finality.

“i should have known you'd suggest something as selfish as you,” you countered, shaking your head in disbelief. “this isn't about us. so don't you dare ruin this too, itoshi rin.”

the word ‘too’ hung in the air, a relentless echo that reverberated through the room, each syllable like a blade, cutting into rin's heart. it felt like a never-ending loop, a supercut of all he had lost and ruined - nights filled with piercing arguments, when your voices were raised until your throats ached, and the bed you had once shared had become a cold, lonely expanse. just how much of you had he shattered beyond the point of no return?

the ensuing silence was thick and suffocating, it enveloped the room, creating an atmosphere so tense you could almost hear the creaking of the floorboards under its weight. 

two old friends, once lovers, now trapped in a forced reunion getaway, compelled to act like a couple when their love had long since turned to ashes.

perhaps it was pride that you couldn’t admit it was partly your fault too. you should’ve told your friends about it the moment he took his things out of your shared apartment. there had been numerous chances, yet you clung to false hope, bargaining for a lost cause, and desperately wishing for a change that was never meant to be.

foolish. that's what it felt like - a foolish hope. you knew it was over the moment he couldn't bring himself to respond to your declaration that you were done.

“uhm, guys?”

as if on cue, isagi's head appeared at the slightly ajar door of your designated room,

“is everything fine? the tour guide is already downstairs, so…” he trailed off, his gaze shifting between you and rin, sensing the tension.

“we're—” rin began to say, but you immediately cut him off.

“everything's fine! just one of rin's moods,” you chimed in, forcing a smile as you turned towards isagi. “right, baby?” you said, addressing rin with a strained cheerfulness.

isagi chuckled, seemingly oblivious to the emotional maelstrom in the room. “must be it, then. i don't know how you dealt with that for five years, y/n.”

and there, amidst the oblivious laughter, it struck you. 

five years.

“yeah,” you admitted with a tinge of sadness, “five years of loving him would make you immune to it,” you thought, the words choking in your throat.

isagi, still in the dark, laughed lightly. “i guess so. we'll wait for you downstairs.” and with that, he left you alone with the relentless weight of your unresolved feelings.

for a moment, you and rin remained silent, but when you met his gaze, it was as though he wanted to ask a hundred different questions to comprehend what you meant about being immune to it.

but you beat him to the punch. “we'll tell them on our last day, and then pray to god that we never have to talk to each other again.” with that, you left rin to grapple with his thoughts, leaving the room heavy with the unspoken truth.

and right then and there, it struck him that the answer to when and how things had unraveled for both of you had been staring rin in the face all along. it was just that he wasn't ready to see it.

note. and i offer you: an excerpt from an idea i scraped :D

[kryptid-kat]

We should normalize being the average artist who never really goes viral and is happy in their lane creating for their own sake (be it commissions, or art for themselves).

The clout chaser mentality of all social media sites rotted our brain where we can't find value in our work unless it has a big number besides it.

Create for yourself, not to please some elusive algorithm that changes on a whim and pushes you back to square one.

[kyo-hiki]

im not projecting, im not projecting

[livebloggingmydescentintomadness]

the wonders of an adhd: i still regularly forget my qpp's birthday despite knowing her for almost two decades, but 10+ years ago i memorized the lyrics of the ode to joy in german (i language i don't speak) and i can still sing them at the slightest provocation.

[blerghie]

would you fall in love with me again but it's kdj/od saying the "i would fall in love with you over and over again" part to yjh's 1865 regression turns 🥹

[schnaf]

23 days until gaon's 23nd birthday

day 23 aka THE COUNTDOWN IS OVER - gaon's past birthday brrrr ppoppos

[spineless-lobster]

Cheese cheese cheese

Cheese is my friend

Cheese cheese cheese

I love cheese ‘til the end

Cheese cheese cheese

I love it every day

Cheese cheese cheese

Makes me say hooray!

[creepyeyesandfrogs]

if venom returns only to bond with flash thompson and never sees eddie again i'm gonna fucking riot

[etherealspacejelly]

one thing about me is that i love answering questions. you could ask me the most ridiculous hypothetical known to man and i will consider it with scientific curiosity and sincerity

[eebie]

Grinds my teeth to dust…. i wish touch didnt have so many Implications. im just trying to survive out here

[soup-is-here]

Mouthwashing Spoilers

TW: Addiction and Self Harm

I wanna go on about Swansea's final monologue but it's hard to put into words, but I'm gonna try anyways cause it's a short, but strong story about autonomy again. This post ended up significantly longer than I wanted though

It's the autonomy to choose the "less healthy" option because it's appealing to you. It's the moral assignment to normality and stability. An alcoholic is an alcoholic by choice, technically, but do they owe us otherwise? Is it morally reprehensible to enjoy taking LSD at a party? Should we see someone as less than because they relax with a xanax instead of a hot shower? It's not healthy. We know that. We've seen anti-drug ad after ad after ad. But is that the part that's morally wrong, in and of itself? Does enjoying the drugs and chaos make Swansea a worse person?

Like him talking about his entire life and ending it by saying between the "stable" "normal" life and him waking up every morning with a new hangover, he preferred the latter. People always talk about getting clean and fixing their lives and Swansea did it! He did the thing "good men" do! A wife and kids and a trade job and sobriety! He was doing it! He was finally "worth" something!

And he hated it! I mean I don't know if he actually hated/despised it, but he misses his previous life. He misses drugs and partying and living like you might not wake up the next day. He said the thing that changed him was seeing himself dead in a ditch under the bright beam of a streetlight. Now he's looking down the barrel of a gun. And as he looks down it, he looks back. That was his preference. It felt good to be like that. And he wouldn't be here if he stayed there

We always have a narrative about drugs or gambling or sleeping around where a person suddenly realizes that they aren't "doing anything" with their life and becomes stable and it's always played like addiction is a false pleasure. Swansea got to the stability people said would be the real pleasure of life and that just wasn't true for him. One bad paycheck could've been the difference between his stable life and falling apart anyways. His lifestyle was going to kill him someday apparently, yet he's staring down the barrel of a gun at his steady trade job to feed his wife and kids.

I don't know quite how to word it but Swansea is the poster child for rehabilitation. There's this weight to him saying his alcoholic period was the best time of his life. Like it just hits at that pang that makes people wear DARE shirts while smoking weed and post those videos of smoking 100 cigarettes at once. Anti-vaping ads tell you about the damage they do to your body but everyone knows that already. Everyone knows "this is what your brain looks like on drugs." I smoke medical marijuana and it isn't good for my lungs but it's good for my pain. Doing drugs isn't good for me and I know that and that's sorta the point sometimes.

I don't know it's just this weird pang where I know what Swansea means, just not to nearly the same extent. I don't have an addiction so I don't think I could fully understand it. Maybe a better thing I could relate it to for myself is self harm. It's not healthy sure, but who do I owe health? Myself? Other people? And what is healthy? Is it feeling better now? Is it resisting now and feeling worse for it until it stops? What if the coping skills I learn make it worse? What if they make it better? Do I want it to get better? Does Swansea want to get better? What would better feel like to either of us?

Who knows until you try. Swansea got a collared shirt, a mortgage, and a credit card. He got a job and a wife and kids. He got sober. He got healthier, depending on your definition.

But did he feel better? He's looking down a barrel of a gun and he has to decide if he feels better. It doesn't seem like he regrets his new life. He says he wants his kids to be better than him. He wants good things to happen for them. He saw himself as one bad slip away from falling again. I don't think he felt better though. I think he got healthier. He likely would've ended up in the ditch he dreamt about, but we don't know that. We also don't know if that's what he'd prefer. But, we do know he got healthier, depending on your definition.

[im-an-anthusiast]

The God of Gold and Iron and Rust

Children sing for the God of Gold 

The hero does as he was told 

Does exactly what the world needs 

No children to sing of his deeds 

Forks jingle for the God of Gold 

Kings laugh through mouthfuls they can’t hold 

Food spills from between lips too full 

Greasy chins, wiped with lavish wool 

A gilding, gleaming, shining Gold 

Written in it – stories of old 

Plaques of statues, poems still sung 

Of stars – or those, who killed the young 

Men pray to the God of Iron  

Doing as told, by a scion 

Liquid iron dripping off blade 

The source of it – is now unmade  

Bars clang for the God of Iron  

Men sob through mouthfuls of iron 

Gnawing at restraints, spitting up blood 

Leashed tight and grovelling in mud 

A constraining, sharpened Iron 

Caging a trick, circus lion 

Both flowing crimson and sharp grey 

Both laceration and the spray 

Children cry for the God of Rust 

As the hero does what he must 

One future dies for the other 

Many end, to birth another 

Chains jangle for the God of Rust 

Corpses sing through mouthfuls of dust  

Refrains in tongues long forgotten 

Odes tear from jaws, stale and rotten 

A starving, all-consuming Rust  

Feasting on dreams that didn’t last 

Stagnancy spreads through the red rot 

Eating away at what one’s not 

The God of the Undeserving 

For Him they cry, they pray, they sing 

For Her they gild, they kill, they rot 

To Them, they are Deserving not 

The God of the Undeserving 

The God of all – child, man, or king 

The God of all – die, reign, or serve 

The God of none – for none Deserve 

The God of the Undeserving 

Has but one truly believing 

It is them who accept love’s feeling 

Despite knowing – they are Undeserving 

[adonil]

what is going on in the cosmere fandom is syladin becoming canon what is this panic that i see

[pretentiouswreckingball]

I know some people care more about what a song says but I care more about how it sounds so, what song you enjoy listening to, music/sound wise?

[wall-eye]

How do I deal with someone micromanaging me at work. Shes only sometimes in the department, doesn't do a great job when she is, and yet she's always telling me to make sure I do this or that even when the rush is about to hit and I cant start making 15 sandwiches when people are going to destroy the hotcase in t-minus 20 minutes.