#feeding a vicious cycle

[rustchild]

.

[afewproblems]

Getting back into it (writing and tumblr) and hoping to post a Lil one-shot hopefully tonight!

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

kerosene and other dietary supplements

there’s a dryness in the center of bite wounds, the ones that don’t get all the way through

teeth and saliva and blood; evenly divided semi-circle, perfect fifths, et c

but the skin between remains unblistered, unbroken

dry and calm

it’s funny, as long as the laughter is directed at nobody and maybe yourself

if it's still humor when the ouroboros reaches the end of its tail and stares back at itself

eyes and recognition and fear meeting for a second

the moment it takes for a jaw to widen, eyes rolling back in the lunge

and the snake is lust, it is doubt and a choking scream and violence

so tightly coiled it must forfeit sight to part its teeth

directionless and thrashing and begging for someone to do that again

take up shed blade and intent and for chrissake aim for something important

but mostly it sleeps in your chest, and mostly it isn’t a snake, and mostly you live around it

and it’s not lust

it is anger, enough pain and blood and guilt and violence for a lifetime

astounding what you can fit into fifteen minutes with a little depersonalization and a paring knife

still not lust

but there is a sex to it

something in the movement, in the quiet desperate shuffling

because it’s sex and it's grief and you don't even have to cry during

it’s sex and it's the closest you can get to dying without drawing attention to yourself

it’s tearing your skin down to brass tacks because maybe if you can get at the support hooks you can talk them into fitting correctly

it’s standing in the basin of a church parking lot on a thursday afternoon

slamming god’s finest car door into your forearm until it remembers who it belongs to

it hurts like godfire and it’s the closest thing you can have to sex without taking your clothes off

and it’s lust the same way that shallow midnight anguish is lust

it’s lust like an apology that stalls out, somewhere between bile and teeth

like a molding pomegranate, like a dead spider, blood and skin and eyes

smeared ever so slightly between your palm and the hole it was trying to escape to

it’s lust for as long as anger has to be yelling

has to seethe and bare teeth and throw plates at raised arms

as long as anger does not realize how to smile, to placate, to pray

as long as i love you has to be true

as long as you have to stare unblinking into the wound before it’s allowed to kill you

allowed to pus and rot and burrow through flesh until there isn’t any

lust like a maggot cupped gently into a corpse, bathed in sunlight

it’s lust because the grief counsellor can never dig quite fast enough

hard to keep up with the dirt, armed with your own inertia 

and twenty court-ordered minutes

and the kind of grief that doesn’t grip the silverware drawer to hurt other people

they never get to weapons made of strangers

to clothing that debrides skin if you fold it right, if you ask nicely

to throwing yourself against nails and teeth and flared collarbones

until the bruises start to slide together, till your skin is too stunned to scream at you

it’s violence but not for anybody else

that godless sex that gets you frowned at, by family and holy men

like all this little fucking conundrum was missing was disapproval

and the bite roils in your stomach now, bile creeping up between cracked teeth

they are vicious and eager and can never sink all the way through

‘cause it’s rotting, that dry little center

and you can’t bring yourself to check just how much progress it’s made

you’ve always looked a little like roadkill, anyway

[orivu]

my bf told me last night that we'll have a talk & theyll help me sort out my life one thing at a time bc he doesnt like how terminally online i am lately & for the first time in my life i actually felt understood

[padfootastic]

im sorry,,,not to be annoying on main about a fic that’s nowhere near ready to be published but can i just say—

y’all are NOT ready for this

[sanctissimx]

@bearratic

[chemicaljacketslut]

yk before coming to college i hoped that i would make friends and try hard to be social, but i also acknowledged the very real possibility that i wouldn’t make friends and i would feel out of place and homesick. and i was like if that happens, it’s okay, i can push thru and have hope for future friends. ermm well. now it has happened and while i haven’t been here long at all and i hope i’ll start clicking with people more i forgot how hard loneliness is for me to deal with like that in conjunction with the new workload and all the big changes of emerging adulthood and i am at my breaking point crying every day within the first month lol

[bunnyboy-juice]

i want comfort of distractions and company but i am not fit for company rn so im just. sobbing (:

[homunculus-argument]

I think there's a real tragedy in the way straight men don't see themselves the same way that people who are attracted to men see them. If you ask a straight man to describe what an attractive man looks like, there's very little variety - the masculine male ideal is tall, broad-shouldered, square-jawed with a cleft chin and built of sculpted muscle. The stereotypical image of an Alpha Male, someone whom he could respect, and envy.

And sure, there are plenty of women, gay men and people of all sorts who are attracted to to this specific type, even exclusively attracted to it, there is so much more variety in this, both in the tastes and their subjects.

The stereotype of "hot wife, ugly husband"-couples was drawn from the observations of straight men, from their own perspective. Women going after men that men find unattractive makes no sense to them, and they figure that women are willing to overlook being ugly if a man's funny, smart or rich enough. If a woman insists that she's attracted to a specific man who isn't attractive by their standards, they'll assume that she's lying.

The tragic part is when a man who believes himself to be ugly grows bitter over this, developing a foul personality which people do find repulsive, and then uses their repeated experiences of being romantically rejected as proof that they're physically unattractive, insisting that surely women would overlook his heinousness if only he was tall and muscular enough, and had the right bone structure. The self-feeding vicious cycle of being a bitter incel is born.

The thing about "ugly men with a good personality can still be attractive" is that they're usually not even ugly. Some people do genuinely find fat and hairy men, thin and delicate men, short men and feminine men attractive. There's as much variety as in cheese, you can't compare aura to brie. And just like in cheese, as long as you're not toxic, somebody's into that. You just need to find the right wine to compliment it.

[8aji]

idk if my writing sounds ok anymore, im convinced it doesnt 🥲

[euovennia]

headcanons for simon being the mom/dad friend to reader and her just eating that shit up? like yeah, that giant intimidating guy wearing a skull mask is my best friend. he’s really cute right? (he is)

anon your brain is huge and i love it, thank you for such a gorgeous request! just want you to know that your second request will be up sometime soon, i just wanted to split them! thank you again for requesting, i hope you enjoy <3

pt. 2

fair warning to anyone reading, this is my first time writing headcanons (more like a short story with bullet points because my oh my i got carried away) so please don't shoot! anyway, i've got some ideas rolling around in my head so just jump into it:

let's get one thing straight

becoming friends with a man like simon is not an easy task

while you may be somewhat quick consider him a friend because you're both skilled enough to have made to the 141, it takes a lot longer for him to also consider you a friend

the process of getting him to this point is an arduous journey and some people (probably gaz and rudy bc i can see these two being equally terrified of this man) will not hesitate to tell you to cut your losses and leave him alone

i reckon simon is the type to verbally tell you this himself

and maybe for a bit you do leave him alone

but then one day you see him sitting alone in the commons area with what you deem to be the saddest plate of dinner ever and you just crack

cue you sliding into the seat in front of him with your tupperware full of homecooked food you'd stashed away the night before

naturally he gets frustrated and a maybe a lil annoyed so he goes to leave

but then you slide your tupperware of food over to him and his movements just kinda stop as he stares at you with his typical ghost stare

think 👁️👁️

he'll push the container back toward you causing you to push it back toward him

it becomes an almost vicious cycle before he finally snaps and spits out something like, "what's your fuckin' problem?"

to most he's a scary man with an even scarier voice so that would've been where most people drew the line (let's face it though, most people probably wouldn't have sat with him in the first place)

but all you can focus on is the piss poor excuse of a meal he'd retrieved from the mess hall so you just push it back toward him one final time with a simple, "eat."

he'll narrow his eyes and straighten his posture in an attempt to scare you off but when that doesn't work he'll tell you something along the lines of, "i'm spitting it out if it's shite"

he does not spit it out

from that day on, you'll seek him out with two tupperware containers filled with whatever you'd cooked up the night before and offer it to him

the first few times he's hesitant to accept simply because he doesn't wanna get used to the unusually kind gesture but it eventually gets to a point where he just stops getting a plate from the mess hall and instead waits around for you to feed him

these small dinners you share make it nearly impossible for simon to avoid your talking

he almost debates getting up and leaving a few times but then he remembers he'd be eating soggy meat and vegetables if it weren't for you so he decides to entertain it

and to the surprise of absolutely no one he eventually starts warming up to you, even throwing in a few comments and sarcastic quips of his own

and after a long while of having these dinners with you, he decides he likes it – he likes hearing you talk, whether it be about how you and gaz hid price's hat somewhere on base and blamed it on soap or what the latest celebrity gossip is

so what does he do?

he tries to block you out

it doesn't work because you're a stubborn little shit and refuse to let him fall back into his bubble of solitude and self pity

and he eventually realizes this so he just kinda accepts it after a while (more like a week)

and the two of you become quite chummy

well

as chummy as one can be with a person as closed off as ghost

instead you always being the one to seek him out come dinner time, he'll be the one to start finding you

it's a surprise

a delightful one

but still a surprise

his short, clipped responses will morph into longer, more thought out ones as your friendship continues to develop and you can't help but notice just how smart he really is

despite his everything that's happened to him in the past, he's actually quite in tune with the emotions of other people; his observational skills are off the charts

so you'll eventually start asking him for advice on anything and everything, even if it's not something that pertains directly to you because his wisdom outside the battle field is something to truly behold

it's amazing what can be solved without heavy loads of artillery and violence!

anyway

simon quickly becomes very used to this dynamic

you two having dinner, talking about everything and nothing all at once and while he may never verbalize it, he truly does appreciate it

he'd convinced himself long ago that his life was just cursed and that the people he loved and held closest to him were always destined for terrible things so he just closed himself off

he put on the mask and became ghost whereas simon was kept tucked away in a place no one even bothered to try and discover

but then you stumbled your way into his heart with your homemade food and endless chatter and he can't help but indulge himself

maybe having a friend isn't all that bad

and so the dinners/mini therapy sessions continue

until one day you don't show up

while he is a bit disappointed, simon decides to let it go because you've had dinner with him for god knows how long now

you probably just wanted a day to yourself and he understands that so he doesn't pry

even when he barely force himself to finish the sludge smacked onto his plate from the mess hall – how was he so comfortable eating that for so long?

but you don't show up the next day

or the next

and by the fourth day simon is just downright angry

and a little sad and worried

but mostly angry

who do you think you are to waltz in his life, make yourself cozy in his extremely tight knit circle, and then just leave him high and dry with no goodbye? (wow that rhymed)

if you're gonna ditch him like this then he's gonna make sure you sit through the awkward pain of saying it to his face

he spends an embarrassing amount of time looking for you before he even thinks to check your room

he walks up to your door, fully prepared to slam that door open and confront you

but then he hears you fall into a particularly nasty coughing fit paired with a muffled groan of agony and suddenly it just clicks

you got yourself sick

tempted as he is to simply walk away, he knows deep in his heart he can't do that to you

which is why you open up your door to see ghost awkwardly standing there with a tray of hot soup, water, and some medicine

you nearly cry in your haze of sickness

you'd spend the past four days miserably rotting away in your bed and to suddenly have simon by your side offering you soup and medicine? it was almost too much

ever since that day there had been a gradual shift in your friendship

it started with you two coordinating who would bring dinner on which days

but then it turned into simon being the one to bring dinner nearly everyday

which then evolved into him finding you throughout the day and offering small snacks and drinks

but he's a busy man and he can't do this every day so he'll settle for sending a simple message of, "you doing ok?"

and most times you say yes

but on the off chance you say no he'll take a few minutes to message you back and forth until you feel at least a little better (no this is not achieved by him sending you bad dad jokes, he would never do such a thing!)

but eventually the man just gets so tired of constantly going around base trying to find you that he'll simply just start to linger around you whenever he's free

gruff words of assurance and friendly pats on the shoulder become a staple for the masked man

when the team becomes privy to the newly formed friendship between the two of you, it's almost scary

like

imagine this 6'4 beefy mountain of a man hanging around someone half his size just chilling

i reached the character block limit how awkward anyway

it's odd and you know it is so you'll play into it

like that time you loudly asked ghost to grab the blanket from your room while you two were sitting on the couch in the common area while the rest of the team filed in

and him immediately going to grab it while the team are completely gobsmacked when he promptly returns with your blanket in hand

cue soap asking ghost the same thing a few days later and only receiving a glare in return along with a stern, "i'm not your maid, johnny."

then he just walks away leaving soap to feel like an idiot

it becomes apparent very quickly that simon has a favorite and that favorite is you

especially when he's the one to sweep you up into a quick hug with a quick pat on your head after the team completes yet another mission

you make it a point to squeeze onto simon just a tad tighter when you see soap looking over in complete bewilderment

seriously, how did you tame the legendary ghost?

and honestly?

you're not quite sure yourself

you just soak it in because you'd be a fool not to

maybe one day you'll ask him yourself

maybe you won't

doesn't matter either way because at the end of the day you're the only one who can proudly call ghost your best friend

even if he doesn't refer to you as the same

he totally does he just never says it out loud because he's secretly terrified you don't feel the same

regardless

you two are very much attached at the hip

what with you constantly getting yourself into trouble all around base and ghost not wanting you piss off the wrong person

he is very much your guard dog and you make it everyone's problem

soap went too hard on you during your sparring session? ghost is already glaring at him

gaz won't stop bugging you when you're actually trying to get your work done? ghost is pushing him out the door

price is about to lecture you for something gaz and soap framed you for? ghost is quick to rat them out

it's sweet really, the friendship you have

it warms your heart thinking about it

and it warms his too

even if he won't admit it

he's just grateful you didn't give up on him even when he wanted you to

because he's found that, sometimes, it's nice to have a friend

and he's glad it's you

:)

[poughkeepsies]

tyranny is such a vicious cycle

buck learning from interim captain han

2. ravi learning from clipboard buck

3. chimney admiring peer instructor ravi

three menaces feeding each other's abuse of power. I fear for everyone else on the team.

[johnbrand]

Cycle of Corruption

With @aismoker

Seb did not hesitate, flicking the lighter and bringing its open flame up to the tip of his cigarette. He had never smoked before, never had the intention to smoke before. Seb did not know anyone who smoked, and from an early age his family had preached about the dangers of nicotine. But here he was, the freshly-purchased pack of Marlboros sitting beside him as he took in his first inhalation.

Just as his blogger bro had warned Seb, that first breath was harsh, the smoke roughly scratching at his throat. But his bro had instructed him to keep going, push through the first cigarette. If it was still a little scratchy, have a second. Heck, go through the whole pack. He promised that Seb would notice the change once it came. His throat would surrender, allowing the smoke to smoothly caress itself along the walls like syrup.

Seb assumed he must have appeared strange to the passersby. Some looked at him with the common disdain that was given to all smokers, whether they were newbies or veterans. Some noticed the slightly-above average male and took a second to appreciate him, but then noticed the cigarette between his fingers and shied away. Seb was athletic, kept in shape, but he was nothing extraordinary. Just a lucky genetic draw. But his bro promised Seb it would all change. Smoking would make him what he craved to be: a real man.

Seb could not recall how it had all started. It seemed like only weeks ago he had been scrolling through content online, just passing each blog one by one as he had done countless times before. When he came upon a new blog in his feed though, one boasting of the joys and transformative properties of smoking, he was intrigued. Who in this day and age was promoting nicotine, especially at such a level to create fanfiction of Marlboro? With nothing better to do, Seb explored the page, and before he knew it hours had passed. He had become enthralled, blissfully unaware that a latent addiction had been awoken.

Seb continued to visit the blog, fascinated by the opinions and captions shared by the creator. Eventually, he reached out, and was surprised when the blogger quickly responded back. The blogger, an avid smoker and certified bro-type, was happy to explain his perspective and ideology, further enrapturing the pupil in Seb. It did not take much longer from there until his bro instructed him to purchase his first package of Marlboros, and now on his third cigarette, Seb’s world was beginning to expand.

Enlightened, Seb immediately sent a message to his bro, who responded back with knowledgeable confidence. His bro explained that this was his first stepping stone towards manhood, tying back to their discussions in the past. The blogger had uncovered the definition of masculinity to Seb through pictures of smoking men and by outlying the connections between nicotine and the alpha male. And at that very moment, as he was no longer resisting the smoke's phantom embrace coursing through his veins, Seb finally began to understand his bro’s perspective.

From there, the vicious cycle of corruption erupted. With the continued encouragement from his bro, Seb continued to purchase pack after pack of Marlboros until he began to do it automatically. The process engrained itself as a part of his system, the nicotine like a parasite adding one extra item to his mental to-do lists. And the smoking too, a catalyst initiated by his bro, shifted the direction of Seb’s fate, readjusting his life’s path towards new objectives.

Once the addiction took its permanent residence, things began to change. The smoke physically undertook a reconstruction of its host, creating a suitable body to contain its poisonous splendor. Seb’s musculature grew, his body strengthening a little more with every pack. As his bro reminded him, alpha men smoked, so if he was to smoke, by scientific law he would become an alpha. Larger, broader, naturally commanding a presence. As the years passed, his beard grew in, his body hair grew denser, and his attitude grew smug.

Thanks to the smoking, Seb’s relationships changed too. Family members and people he was once close with grew afraid of his new habits, offering help before simply disappearing from his life. His bro had assured Seb that this was simply for the best; their fear for the emerging alpha did not make them worthy of embracing the better him. With this, his bro helped Seb find new men to socialize with, fellow smokers who could laugh and indulge in their superior lifestyle, discussing the worldly topics around masculinity as smoke coated their interiors.

Seb’s corruption furthered, the addiction consuming him before eventually, almost a decade to the day after his first cigarette, he found himself running his own online blog preaching the revelations of smoking. Now sturdier, gruffer, and wiser, he was delighted when a young blogger popped anonymously into his inbox asking a few questions about his perspective. Seb was happy to indulge, knowing soon he would be enlightening the young man onto his own nicotine journey. And what better way to celebrate such a success than by having a smoke.

[fanaticsnail]

Thinking about a reader who's too polite for their own good. They aren't a total pushover, of course, but still don't speak up a lot of the times even when they probably should.

It's been a problem their whole life, but it really comes to a head when they join the strawhats. There's the usual problems; Luffy being obnoxiously loud, Chopper and Usop and their hyjinks. But none of these things compare tho their problems with Sanji.

The chef has one rule: no wasting food. It's how he was raised, and his experiences have lead to him understanding the importance of a meal. The 'no food waste' rule is known ship wide.

So when something is made that the reader doesn't like, they have no choice but to choke it back with a smile.

Sanji thinks he's done something wrong; underseasoned the food, maybe? This leads to a vicious cycle of him trying to perfect the food (because damn if he isn't going to get this right for his pretty crewmate) and the reader choking it back reluctantly (because damn if they're going to break Sanji's one rule and potentially ruin their chances).

All of this comes to one glorious, horrendous conclusion where one of Sanji's attempts uses an ingredient that the reader is allergic to and well....let's just say the aftermath was something to behold.

-♡♡

POOR BABYYYYYYYY. I love it. Let's torture him a bit.

Food Preferences

Masterlist Here

Little drabble.

Synopsis: Sanji caters to suit your personal food preferences, and it hurts him to learn of how truly picky you were with your food. He lives to serve, but his background as a great cook leaves him with a bruised ego to dull down his extravagant meals.

Themes: Sanji x gn!reader, underlying feelings, Sanji is a service king, reader is a picky eater.

Warning: potential eating disorder mentioned. Sanji serves large portions and it hurts to finish your plate.

Notes: Oh my gosh, Sanji would feel so guilty about it too. He'd cry before giving Luffy your portion, but would absolutely cater to suit your needs.

His portion control is due to the fact that he's feeding Luffy constantly, and expecting everyone to get a taste of everything he makes before Luffy takes it all for himself. It's the same with Zoro's drinking habit. He wants everyone to have a sample of something nice, and is used to having the collective gratitude and praise from everyone as soon as they eat their food.

Sometimes all you want is simplicity. No extravagant flavours. No richness in your desserts, no complex flavours in your meals. A military ration wafer block or two with a hot cup of boiled water is sometimes enough, you're not for all the complexity. Tea and a biscuit. Black coffee and a shortbread cookie. Simple flavours.

When Sanji nearly killed you with your allergy in a bid to win you over, you finally softly explain to him your preferences, and he listens. He may not understand it, but he listens. Simple, clean, basic, boring.

Immediately purchasing new crockery and knives specifically catering to your allergy preferences, he ordered in ingredients specifically for you that would never even glance at the same cabinet the allergins would be homed in. He's not about to send someone into anaphylaxis because he wanted to please someone, especially someone he served with on his crew.

He can't help but almost mourn when he makes your food now. He lives to serve, and that service includes providing foods that suit your preferences. Preferences that hurt his ego as a chef, but suited his purpose as someone who lives to serve.

Each time he brings you a dish now, he attempts to hide his sorrow at such a dish. He can't stand it, it kills him inside. It's worse than Chef Zeff wanting to drown everything in oregano. It's bland, it's boring, it's little...

...and it makes you smile.

And boy, oh boy, is he a sucker for that smile.

The way his heart flutters, his smile brightens, his eyes twinkle all in the hopes that you'd bless him with that soft smile he'd come to cherish. He didn't know when, but his heart sang to you. Maybe he could coax you in to expanding your preferences through something small, something new mixed in with the familiar. If he was willing to cut back for you, perhaps you could find it in your heart to expand for him.

If not, he'd love you for who you are anyway.

Tag list: @mfreedomstuff @daydreamer-in-training @since-im-already-here @gingernut1314 @writingmysanity @sordidmusings @i-am-vita @indydonuts @feral-artistry @the-light-of-star @empirenowmp3 @racfoam @sunflowersatori @carrotsunshine @skullfacedlady

[briarpatch-kids]

Just in case nobody's heard of this before... this is the pain cycle. The idea is that chronic pain feeds on itself and starts a vicious cycle.

You hurt, and it's distressing and scary and you want to avoid hurting yourself more, so you take it easy for a while until you feel better, but during that time alarm bells are still going off and your body is screaming at you something wrong and you're losing strength and flexibility, so you get more nervous and more injury prone and eventually you fall or something and hurt yourself more. Which causes more pain and more anxiety because what you feared was true, you got hurt again and your body is screaming at you that something is wrong, so you decide to rest and take it easy until you're feeling better...

The way I work on keeping myself out of that cycle is trying to give myself other feelings beyond just pain and try to reconnect to my body in a positive way. But you have to start slow, I started exercise just doing a loop around my house and took at least 6 months to take it to three miles. Now I can casually run 3 or 4 miles in my chair, and I get to feel the sun on my face and wind in my hair and my arm muscles working hard to move me.

[sadseungmin]

♡ breaking up with a psychotic lee felix ♡

psychotic lee felix x reader | gender neutral | dead dove

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will kidnap you *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix's reaction would be swift and terrifying. He will kidnap you, taking you to a secluded, heavily secured location. Felix will create an enforced captivity where he controls every aspect of your life. He removes any means of communication with the outside world and ensures you are completely dependent on him for survival. You find yourself trapped, with Felix justifying his actions as a way to protect you and keep you with him forever.

"You know what I say whenever your parents come over to discuss your missing person's case? I tell them, 'I'm so sorry I couldn't protect y/n! I'll never stop looking for them. I'll never love another like I loved them.' Then I fake cry. And they buy it. Every time. They tell me your disappearance isn't my fault. Isn't that sweet? How naive they are."

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will poison you for control *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix will use subtle poisoning to keep you weak and dependent on him. He administers small doses into the pastries he bakes for you of a substance that makes you feel constantly ill and disoriented, ensuring you can't muster the strength or clarity to escape. Felix would then position himself as your caregiver, providing "medicine" (in the form of sugar pills) and comfort, reinforcing your reliance on him. You are caught in a vicious cycle of illness and dependence, unable to break free from Felix's grasp.

"My poor baby, you've made such a mess! Did I feed you too many chocolate chip brownies? Is that why you threw up everywhere? Don't worry, I could never be disgusted by you. I'll clean you up and then bake you another batch! How does double fudge sound?"

✧･ﾟ: psychotic!felix will make veiled threats & show conditional kindness *✧･ﾟ:*

Felix alternates between kindness and veiled threats to control you. He showers you with affection, gifts, and attention, crating moments of false security and hope of escape. However, any sign of resistance or attempt to escape is met with a chilling calmness as he makes it clear that there are consequences for disobedience. You learn to comply out of fear, understanding that his seemingly gentle demeanor can quickly turn dangerous. His conditional kindness keeps you in a constant state of anxiety, unsure of when the next threat will surface.

"Darling, I adore you more than anything in this world, and I'll move mountains to see you happy. But know this—if you ever try to leave me, I'll make sure you understand the true meaning of pain. Stay with me, and you'll have everything; try to escape, and there won't be a place far enough to hide from my wrath. Don't cry, baby. All will be fine if you just listen."