#i just know when its enough but thats a gut feeling thats not my brain

[sirenofthegreenbanks]

whelp. apparently i just hit the end of the chapter and thats why!!!!!!! honestly this internal clock for chapter length is amazing. its always coming out to be roughly the same size

[pinazee]

Bounty Hunters!

I just find it so adorable when a kid has bright ass food stains on them. Its like the essence of childhood or something more poetic haha also, this might sound insane, but this is the first ep i could feel that shawn and gus had been friends since childhood. Possibly because they’re nearly wearing the exact same shirts and at the same steps so the parallel is a lot more obvious. Like it just clicked in my brain or something.

I just really liked this shot. That is all.

Shout out to James and Dulés’ stunt double

This is one of those times i don’t envy actors. This looks so uncomfortable. Also, i can’t decide if it’s naivety or arrogance that Shawn would think he could go into this bar and be okay?? I guess you can assume that Shawn knew Tancana would stop them before they caused any serious damage but that one guy was about to hit him with a chain, and its one thing to go into this on your own, its another to bring your friend with you.

A+ scene work from Corbin Bernsen here lol

This is what I do to get my dog to stop eating her toys. Doesn’t work with her either.

One of the few times Shawn kind of loses it with Gus and has to recollect himself haha. Like he’s been frustrated sure, but he usually applies some sort of manipulation. But i really like this scene because usually its Gus thats frustrated with Shawns behavior.

Sidenote: about the super sniffer. I don’t think its that he can smell things others can’t, because Shawn usually points it out and can recognize it, i think the super sniffer is that Gus can break the smell down and put a name to it. Like the gardenias in the perfume, the ginger blossoms in the kangaroo paste. Shawn just knows its kangaroo paste. Idk, i had to think about it at least haha

What a goof. But also, ive started watching Gus while shawns doing his breakdowns and he’s like miming beside him haha if i see it in a later ep i’ll gif it.

Its kind of insane that Bird hands over Tancana and this supposedly alleviates Juliets guilt? Like i get the line she says we all make mistakes as a way of saying Juliet’s forgiven herself, but um, she didn’t really do anything. I wish instead they would have had Shawn notify the cops where he’d be, have lassie ignore him per usual, but let juliet take off on her own (against orders) and save them from bird that way (possibly at the parking garage). This way we can see that she can still rely on her gut and it isn’t handed to her by shawn, kind of like the If You’re So Smart ep, when he solved her case and its somehow a win for her. Its still a sweet gesture that Shawn was cool semi-risking his life (and gus’s for that matter) so she can “save” them and get her good reputation back, even if it doesn’t quite make sense haha

The near kiss was perfection! I think a full kiss would have been too soon, particularly because Juliet was pretty vulnerable just then and it wouldn’t feel right. But the fact that it made juliet nervous enough to start dismantling her gun like she’d been doing all day- fantastic way to gain insight into to her mind and give us the audience hope that the ship would exist. She seems pretty conflicted about him (i think mainly because she doesn’t date coworkers?). I mean, from her perspective, she only know him as immature, irresponsible to a degree, who relentlessly flirts, BUT at the same time is incredibly kind and fun. I would have some hesitation too. Being kind and fun will only get you so far, in my book at least. I also need someone i can rely on to do the boring grown up stuff so im not solely responsible and Shawn just doesn’t come across as someone who can do that (yet). And not to spoil it, but in the bank robbery ep, we learn Juliet likes them mature.

okay. I don’t think this is going to be a popular opinion (just to prepare you mentally) cause i believe everyone loves this scene, and don’t get me wrong i love it too, i just think it doesn’t quite fit in the ep? Like i know shawn was flirty with jules the whole time, and he’s trying to impress her, but it was always jokey and they didn’t really have a solid heart to heart moment, and it pulls away from what Juliet was going through. I think if he’d consoled her a bit, let her know that a mistake is inevitable and assuming that she wouldn’t make any was setting her up to fail, that she was still the smartest, and bravest cop on the force and she should remember that the next time that voice in her head says differently, then he could maybe go for the kiss. Maybe. I think I would’ve preferred it if he’d just consoled her and she was the one who went to kiss him but changed her mind at the last second and thats how we get close talking. Because she wants to kiss him, but at the end of the day she’s pragmatic.

(I just want to quickly add that i by no means think i can write these better. This is just fun for me to put my own little spin on it. I also know other factors go into making a show (time, budget etc) so there are things writers wanted to include that would have improved their eps but said factors forced them to make changes. I don’t want these little opinionated changes i’d make to come across as mean spirited or arrogant. They’re more like responses to a writing prompt if that makes sense.)

[prettiestboyreid]

fics that have altered my brain chemistry (eddies/joe qs version)

okay so ive been in an adhd brain rot?? where im just fucking HORRIBLE at reblogging fics that i enjoy and honestly it was my whole reasoning behind making this blog FOR GIVING WRITERS THE LOVE THEY DESERVE i just wanted to give a shoutout to these writers (and stories) they’ve made that just fucking messed with my brain (and in a good way okay??) over these last few months. please check them out and give them all the fucking love they deserve

like a poem (FINISHED series, but sometimes if you ask nice enough she will throw a blurb in there) - im so very fucking biased because i love her to the moon and back, but she writes the best fucking stories of joe that will keep you up all night having you rethinking all of your life choices. IT WAS VERY HARD FOR ME to pick out a story that i wanted to highlight in this post, but the whole reason i fell in love with her writing was because of bookstore!joe and he will ALWAYS have a special place in my heart. love you boo

plot: “Joe finds solace in a quaint bookstore, your bookstore, from a hectic situation in the streets. But, you’re closed. But then also, it’s Joseph Quinn.“ from the authors page

echoes (FINISHED, series) - again im so very fucking biased because she is the sweetest person you will have the pleasure of knowing BUT THATS BESIDE THE POINT - she writes so fucking beautifully she will literally have you CRY and this will forever and always be my favourite fic of hers. she deserves all the love she gets, and then even more so read it!!!! (she will make you cry its not on me tho)

plot: “When she laid her emotions out for her best friend, the last thing she expected was for him to turn around, walk away and never speak to her again. Years after, they meet again - different people, different feelings. Or are they?” from the authors page

the hideout (FINISHED, oneshot)- this was one of the first fics i read and fell in love with. it was in that timeperiod where all i could do 24/7 was read eddie munson fanfics and this was one of those fics where i went “holy SHIT??” and honestly i dont think there will ever be a time where this isnt just some % on my mind??

plot: “Eddie Munson made it big. Now, when he returns to Hawkins for a hometown concert with his band, he is reminded of the girl he’s been in love with for the past 6 years when Steve Harrington calls.” from the authors page

vintage reeboks (FINISHED) - this is one of those fics where you’re like???? holy shit i wish i’d come up with that?? i remember reading all of this in one day (summertime, sweating very fucking much) and its just?? holy shit its perfect?? the way eddie is in this??? and its something i could never think of would be this perfect?? i swear i think of this fic at least once a day??

plot: “The gate at the bottom of Lover’s Lake was meant to spit the quartet out in the Upside Down. Steve, Nancy, and Robin were meant to be there. He wasn’t meant to be alone. But when Eddie comes to on the shoreline, you’re there. It’s not the Upside Down. It’s not Lover’s Lake. It’s not 1986.” from the authors page

twenty four hours (STILL GOING) - the way this has me in a chokehold?? im a fucking sucker for when fics have a nice layout??? and this is just so pretty to look at?? like whenever i see its been updated my whole body is SHAKING?? i dont even know what to say?? this is just so amazing and the whole?? will they wont they?? i love them?? i want them both to fight with me all night long??? i CANNOT wait to see where this ends

plot: “in which eddie munson and you absolutely hate each other's guts. what happens when your friends make a bet that you can't spend more than twenty four hours consecutively together?” from the authors page

to know you’re mine (FINISHED) - i saw someone talk about this in the “eddie munson x reader” tag, and DEVOURED the chapters that were up in one whole day?? the way eddie is so fucking soft and nice and the best fucking gentleman in this?? and also?? the relationship to steve in this is amazing??? but THE RELATIONSHIP TO EDDIE IS EVEN MORE AMAZING?? such a fucking fantastic author please go EAT all the chapters right now

plot: “You know the rules. You'd been there when your boyfriend, Steve Harrington, discussed them with the others. There are only two.Number one: Only play when everyone's together. Number two: No finishing inside each other's girls.You'd agreed to these rules, same as Chrissy. Same as Eddie.But then there's rule number three, and though it remains unspoken, it's by far the most important. And you have that feeling again, like when you propped yourself up against the barstool, straining to see him on that stage, craning for a glimpse as his husky voice reached inside you. Now, his dark eyes are doing the same thing: pulling at something buried deep, tugging it into the light where it can't be hidden. And, sure, of course, you didn't intend this. But what are intentions in the face of such things? Needless to say, every rule gets broken.” from the authors page

the customer’s always right (STILL GOING) - hehhehe im a hoe for cutie virgin eddie??? but they way she always manages to capture eddie in her fics?? fucking amazing??? and her writing??? yes PLEASE so do yourself a favor on this fine friday AND READ THIS AMAZING FUCKING SERIES because eddie will make you fall in love in this???

plot: “eddie munson is a virgin and doesn’t want anyone to know (because being an adult who’s never fucked anyone is a total reputation ruiner). but you, his favorite customer, are more than willing to change that.” from the authors page

sincerely yours... (STILL GOING) - like i’ve told her before - her eddie is fucking amazing and so very much to the point!! im so excited for this one and cannot WAIT to see where eddies teasing will make him end up!! the last fucking part of this??? amazing

plot: "Untouchable, is what he called you. Dating Jason, the captain of the basketball tea, most would call you the same. Living your holier than thour life, something else he said, you can’t seem to swallow the need to prove him wrong” from the authors page

burn one (FINISHED) - this is just the perfect fucking combination of smutty and sweet??? like this is just how i imagine eddie and this is so fucking sweet and perfect?? had me thinking about this for WEEKS UGH

plot: "When you move to Hawkins to start over, your new unexpected friendship with your weed dealer next door is your saving grace. It was never your intention to fall in love with him though.” from the authors page

Disjointed (STILL GOING) - this fic has me feeling ALL the feels in all the chapters?? makes me GIGGLE, makes me CRY!!!, i’m in love with all the chapters and i CANNOT WAIT to see them live happily every after

also now that i’ve finished, i’ve just realised this is a lovepoem to my favourite authors on this app heheheh im sorry but i DO love you guys. please do go and read their stories, and send them all the fucking love in the world!! they do have so many amazing stories on their masterlist you will not be able to sleep tonight!!!

authors mentioned in this post THAT YOU NEED TO CHECK OUT!!: @icallhimjoey @ghostinthebackofyourhead​ @inknopewetrust @storiesbyrhi​ @ghost-proofbaby​ @blue-mossbird @lovebugism​ @plumxwrites​ @loveshotzz​ @boomhauer

[himabyul]

Satan & Violins

I share a lot of similarities with Satan, even when before they canonized something about him; one of them being violinist!Satan😭 In spite of me having a mini identity crisis following the drop of his canon violinist card, i think it makes sense! heres why.

Disclaimer!

1. I have not picked up an instrument in years

2. This is purely bcuz my brain is so busy thinking abt Satan so its kinda rambly. . Pls bare w me T_T

3. THIS IS LONG IM SO SORRY

4. Not too used to tumblr writing just yet sorry if it's messy

(Uploaded on my twitter aswell :D)

The violin and its family, unlike other string instruments (ex. the guitar), doesnt have these little things (that i forgor the name of because im a bad musician) that separates every note. those little separating thingies are the reason why people who dont know shit about playing a key on guitar but memorize musical scales (me) is at least able to strum a simple one octave melody.

Obviously, the two come in with their one difficulty (i prefer the violin myself), but it's a little bit harder to pull that trick with the violin. As you can see, theres not exactly something to tell you where each note begins or where they end. Nothing to determine where is where. You simply have to memorize the placement and the distance between each note. You basically play the violin with Your Gut (1). We'll keep this in mind for now.

Moving on, let's talk about body posture.

Beginner violinist usually directlty face towards the strings when playing, as they aren't used to letting their 'gut' lead the show. However, more experienced players would find no need to do so. A quick glance at Satan's art could tell us he was at least above beginner level to be brave enough to face (us) instead.

When you're not facing your violin, you would usually lean your head towards it, resulting in your ear becoming the closest thing to it- here's a real life example:

Now, if there was anything my teacher warned me before starting violin, is that even without having your ear be the closest thing to it, the strings are already LOUD😭 so its even louder when you alr have ur ear on it. The violin is considered one of the most emotional instruments ever, their lower sound resemble what we use to express sadness in speech. Basically, what I'm trying to say is, you as a player are forced to feel what you're playing. Thus is also why you play the violin with Your Heart (2).

So, how does this tie into Satan? It's no secret that our handsome man is incredibly romantic, and to me if he ever wants to express something to us and making sure the message is clearly received, the equally emotional violin is his best bet! The violin allows Satan to play heartwrenching notes that would quickly be felt by the listener.

Lets get technical.

There's still another side of the violin, as there is another side to Satan. The way you stroke your bow matters, the way you angle it so you'll only hit the notes you want. (thankfully if you mess up, the violin is made to still sound graceful😂). Satan too, is quite the detail oriented person. He is tactical, analytical, observant, a man obsessed with striving to be the perfect one, etc etc. The need of preciseness of the violin is definitely right up his alley. The way you need everything to be correct to be rewarded for a beautiful sound. Idk exactly where I'm going with this but it's basically intelligence meets emotion kinda thing, do you see it too?!?!

In conclusion, the violin is a wonderful instrument that both requires great attention to detail yet is also incredibly emotional and heartfelt, an instrument that requires your gut and heart guide your play without abandoning technique. Satan, the incredibly smart yet fluffy softie, is quite literally made for this and I LOVE HIM for that RAAAAAAHHHH. im normal.

THATS IT RLLY im soooo sorry if it's incredibly messy please have a sugarry picture <3 ily

[squarebracketsmileyface]

On a totally opposite end of the spectrum from the role swap-

Imagine if after the Promise chapter things flipped. If after that argument The Operator- out of pure animalistic type curiosity- said “ooh lemme stick my fingers in this sauce here” and left Alex alone to latch onto Jay. Its already discovered how it can push and twist and manipulate one person, but what about a completely separate person? Will the results be the same? Different? Will it be easier or harder?

So it latches onto Jay, and Alex experiences a flat out withdrawal from that thing’s influence, followed by the most gut wrenching clarity. Realizing how crazy he went, how he killed his friends to “save” them when it never would have mattered. So two weeks pass, and all he can think about is Jay- talking to him again and telling him everything, being honest and actually fucking admitting that he cares about him, that he wants to make good on his promise and do things right.

But Jay doesn’t answer. Jay is the one who drops off the planet and goes MIA, and Alex has a horrible, sinking suspicion he knows why. He hopes that Jay just finally got sick of him- he HOPES thats all it is- but deep down there’s this creeping suspicion that its not a coincidence. That he passed his own torment on to Jay like some twisted fucking disease-

He finds out he’s right, later on. When he starts working together with Tim(he’s desperate to find Jay, to fix things, even if that means groveling for Tim’s help-), when they start having run ins with Jay where he won’t see reason, where he argues every point they make and tries to convince Alex that everyone has to die, to help him(and wow, did he sound that crazy too? probably, yikes-)

And in the end Alex makes one last desperate attempt. He meets Jay somewhere alone, tries to convince him to come with him, tells him that he loves him-

But Jay doesn’t believe him. He tells Alex as much(“i love you but i can’t trust you- you said it yourself, why would you ever love somebody like me?”) and Alex wants to cry when Jay throws his own awful words back at him, things he never meant to say-

But what destroys him is when Jay takes the gun that he stole from Alex months ago, puts it to his own head and pulls the trigger with a bang right in front of him.

I’m in a dark mood today LMAO we die like tunnel guy

we die like tunnel guy lmaoooo

fucking THIS tho oh my god the ANGST

i literally have nothing else to add really, my brain saw this and turned into angst mush i fucking love this so much. Jay not believing Alex when he says he loves him fucking OW. This is literally fucking perfect. like, actually.

Everyone come look at this and be fucking destroyed by it because OW. it's especially sad because i'm thinking so much about Alex being the one feeling super hurt and stuff in his uni relationship with Jay, because im writing if it ain't broken at the moment. I am in the perfect mindset for just pouring over Jaylex angst with Alex being the one left feeling worst for it.

Honestly though, Alex finally seeing things fully, truly clearly and realising how terrifying and horrible it must have been for Jay to see him the way he was with the Operator in his head, all angry and not seeing sense and arguing every little thing.

withdrawal from the Operator tho, like, actual withdrawals from it could be so interesting. Like, how would that interact with Tim since he's been dealing with the operator since he was a kid presumably. is he fucked either way? like, if he doesnt take his meds he could get withdrawals from them, and if he doesn't take them for a while then goes back on them does he then get withdrawals from the Operator? Or is it different because the Operator isn't in his head the same way it's in Alex's? is just being near it enough? Like second hand smoke?

[rin-and-jade]

Im so happy to see you taking a break and I hope the break is very nice!

I understand there might be a delay in responses but thats okay, please take your time your health is more important !!

Be prepared for a huge wall of text so sorry in advance-

But, i have a few things im just itching to ask gahhh

Firstly, we originally believed we had little to no amnesia (believing osdd-1b) BUT since then we realised the amnesia is so much heavier than we realised, we figured bc we could recall general events and it was calm in a sense (we saw majority of the time when people experience amnesia its distressing and the loss of all memory) but, the memories are not memorying, so now we are assuming just DID, and that brings me to the second part...

fragments and subsystems, so, idk how valid this is (mostly bc my assumptions are based off vibes/gut instinct) but im fairly sure a subsystem occurred a few months back from a split where that alter just disappeared, which is unusual from what we have documented from the past 1.5 years (most splits the alter detaches from the stressor and those stressors mould a new alter to deal with it in a sense-) so from the recent odd split i believe a subsys was created as such? i have no clue except the vibes, in which it feels like a bunch of fragments in a sense? like i believe ive been fronting for months on my own for now, but there are some parts of my days where i just blank anything that happened, so im curious if there is-

and its not the only time as such where we have had this dreaded gut feeling there were more parts that might be dormant or even very separate, or even parts we dont even notice due to the nature of disorder being a whole lot of forgetting and the disorder pretending to not be the disorder and stuff ;-;

im so sorry for the huge rambles, if you have any advice or explanations or even resources i can read through to draw my own conclusions that would be so cool, bc as of right now im so scared to say this as i feel like im actually faking it for attention and theres no way i was traumatised enough for this and yadayada

tldr: should i trust my 'gut instincts' about system related information, or is my brain being silly?

I don't see the point on invalidating instincts, they're subconscious pattern detectors, so if you feel off, you bet it IS off. Though it's healthy to back it up with evidence preferably, and if there's no evidence yet, then you prowl like a predator in attempt to search for the truth scroll... cough--with a help from me whenever you need it, i mean im not going anywhere.

Also, you can check wether you have did or osdd by jotting down logs or patterns wether: you're memorying more or memorying less, the things you forgot, how often do you find yourself black/greying out, how distinct your personalities are, and wether you can easily remember other part's memories or able to grasp another facet of yourself (if you do not, or is really hard too, im sure this is 'did' from first impression)

--

Right, and for the advices, further explanations, or even resources are all answered by my previous edu posts where its compiled in the #jeducates tag,, i'd love you to just swim in it and process all my information like a sponge.. and come back the second time with more specific questions if you still need confirmation or assurances.

Let me know how it went, i'll be waiting for ya's update!

- c

[himbos-hotline]

“i can't hide from you like i hide from myself” for golden lovers

You know the distance never made a difference to me

Word count: 2,310 words Ship: Golden Lovers Characters: Kota Ibushi [the real thing, not the ghost this time!], Kenny Omega, Matt and Nick Jackson Triggers: Blood, Kenny has a very breif panic attack but its more implied. Authors note: my first time writing golden lovers. The second part of a request called: Angel to me // Watashi ni totte tenshi. I've never written Kota before as a human being but I think I did pretty well. I tried. They rreunite after a match before blood and guts but theres still a mention of blood. Theres also just a passing mention of hangman. Just some golden lovers fluff thats somehow 2000 words. READ ON AO3

Kenny does the one thing he hates doing, he curls into himself like a dying deer and bleeds into the concrete between his feet, tracing how the silver stars twitch and shimmer in the sky, they highlight the outline of the blood splatter like they're holding something precious, like they're trying to make Kenny's pain beautiful.

There's something about tasting his own blood that makes his stomach feel weird. The bitter twist in his throat when it slides slowly from a split lip or cracked nose, still body-warm and stinging as it trails down his skin, flushed and exhausted until it collects in his mouth like a waterfall dipping between rocks, collecting against his teeth until he swallows and the blood becomes cold and clammy in his mouth. It stains his teeth an imperfect pink and his throat burns at the coppery taste. He washes his mouth out with water and stares as it falls away in clumps; small, starkly red lines, sometimes that's all he has to show what he's done.

Just blood on his skin and the taste of copper in his mouth. Kenny can almost taste the blood, if he focuses hard enough. He rolls his tongue against his teeth and he can almost picture the blood clots sitting curled on his tongue, pressing against the back of his teeth as he swallows and pushes them away down his throat. His lip stings dully, the healing cut still fresh and open to the cold air backstage.

Matt's staring at him from the corner of heavy-set brown eyes, Kenny can feel it more than he sees it. Nick slumped against his brother's side, using a wet cloth to stroke Matt's blood off from behind his ear and he's humming, voice trembling a little on the down notes. Kenny knows Nick isn't being mean to but the rough notes feel like barbed wire wrapping around his brain, stabbing and clinging against the soft mushy texture until pain decorates itself around Kenny's temples, he bites his lips and sighs, finally dragging his eyes off the floor and over towards the brothers.

"Nicky, could you stop making that stupid sound please?" Kenny asks, voice rough between gritted teeth, Nick presses his lips together and returns his attention back to trying his best to clean away the blood under Matt's nails, he stares down at his brother's hands and scowls. "cmon Nick don't be like that."

"Like what?" Nick mumbles, eyes staring deeply into Kenny's, he raises one eyebrow when Kenny rolls his wrist like he's expecting Nick to fill in the blanks. "I'm just trying to help because you cost us the match!" Kenny winces a little, watches how Nick grips at the damp washcloth between scuffed knuckles. "matts bleeding because you and adam what? had another argument?" Matt rests his hand against Nicks shoulder, squeezing it softly and he shakes his head and Kenny watches from behind a wall of sweaty curls as Nick deflaits and shrinks back into himself. "whatever."

"we didn't have an argument, look I’m not happy about Matt or me being hurt either Nick but you can't take it out on me!" Kenny rests his fingers between his chest, pressing deeply into the fabric of his shirt with raised eyebrows. "hangers as much as to blame as I am for the bloodshed, afterall he's the one that got involved with Mox in the first place." Kenny darts his tongue across his bottom lip, pressing at the blood that clots at the corner of the wound.

"He wanted the title." Matt mumbles as he pushes himself off the floor to slump into the couch, legs drawn close under his lap as he fiddles with his shoelaces. Kenny listens to the sound of the laces rubbing against the texture of the shoe and winces. "Afterall..." he gestures at Kenny vaguely with a distracted hand. "that's all you want..."

Kenny stares at Matt and Matt stares back, watching emotion swirl in the blue of Kenny's eyes. He can almost picture the things going through Kenny's head and Matt swallows a little when Kenny shifts in his chair, rising to his feet slow enough so his knees don't pop. "You always want gold Kenny- you wanted that seven match for the trios titles and you went after title and title here and tna and..." Matt raises a hand to his ear, twirling a lock of hair around his finger.

"what?" Kenny mumbles, confused at first by Matts sudden outburst before anger licks flames through his brain and anger twists up his spine. His muscles feel tight and knotted against his bones and he stares at Matt with annoyance swirling around the pupils of his eyes. "What's wrong Matt, upset that you're never gonna make it as anything more than a tag wrestler?" Kenny isn't sure where the angry edge to his voice is coming from but it feels right to allow it to twist its way through his words. "Is that why you're upset we lost the match and you ate the pin? because it showed that your little brother is better than you? maybe if you learned to wrestle better we wouldn't have lost, why do you have to be such a failure Matthew?"

Matt's lips twist into something sour and he pushes himself up the couch, glares at Kenny and before either of them, the sound of skin knocking against skin echoes around the small room. Kenny feels Matt's fist against his jaw first before he sees it; the crack of knuckles knock against his jaw, sending pain through Kenny's mouth, there's the fresh taste of blood in Kenny's mouth and he slowly raises his hand to brush against his mouth; blood paints itself through the cracks in Kenny's palm tracing them a glorious red and somewhere distant in his brain, Kenny remembers Kota twisting red ribbons around his pain wrapping it up into small packages that he tucks safely away. His chest heaves; slowly at first almost like Kenny's body can't remember how to breathe.

"Kenny?" Nick's voice is so soft that Kenny almost doesn't pick up on it over the ringing in his ears, the pounding in his lip, the everlasting ache in his chest. Blood is pressed, warm and sticky, against his cheek when Nick hand softly cups his cheek, heavy enough to force Kenny's brain into working. It feels like a chore to raise his eyes away from the blood dripping steadily into his pal- his eyes moving slowly and twitching in his sockets as Kenny stares at Nick's soft blue eyes, watching how they pinch at the corners and he shakes his head at the silent question. Nick frowns and squeezes Kenny hard on his shoulder before turning around to gaze at Matt with something akin to anger in his body. Kenny watches Nick arch, everything in his body rises like the fur across a cat's back and while the brothers argue Kenny slips out, head tucked down and eyes barely focused on his shoes.

Most of the corridors are empty after the show; a few linger stage hands cleaning up water bottles and broken weapons from under the ring, a few wrestlers that nod at Kenny and furrow their eyebrows when he doesn't reply. He hears them question if he's okay, listens to them gasp at the small puddle of blood that grows against the hem of his shirt. Kenny feels his heart fluttering in his chest, rubbing against his lungs like it's trying to start a fire against the soreness in his ribs.

The metal of the door handle is chilled against his stained palms and when Kenny tugs his hand away, he follows the outline of his palm against the metal; red standing out so brightly against silver that it almost feels like a warning, a drying pool outside a caged animals broken den, an alarm ringing in the quiet emptiness of an abandoned apartment. He shoves the door open, feels the cold air brush against his shaking arms and Kenny stumbles through the darkness to curl up against a wall.

The night is cold and the stars stare down at him like the flickering eyes of a cat; hungry and eager and ready to pounce on Kenny as he curls up into himself, trying to get his lungs to breathe and his brain to calm down, his mind races and his skin burns and he bleeds.

Kenny does the one thing he hates doing, he curls into himself like a dying deer and bleeds into the concrete between his feet, tracing how the silver stars twitch and shimmer in the sky, they highlight the outline of the blood splatter like they're holding something precious, like they're trying to make Kenny's pain beautiful.

He wipes his mouth with the back of his hand and Kenny feels like a whore, he's watched adam dab away at his bottom lip and something in his stomach knots up as he thinks about Adam. He hadn't even bothered to follow the elite back into their locker room and Kenny, now sitting alone and guilty, doesn't fully blame him. Who would want to be around someone who broke their hearts moments before, Kenny sighs at himself. Tangles his arms deeper around his knees and presses his forehead deeper into the rough skin of his jeans, he closes his eyes and swallows, taking heavy gulps of air. He's drowning because he dove too deep into the murky waters of lust and dragged Hangman along, making Adam believe that there was something other than love in Kenny's eyes whenever he looked at him.

tears lick against the back of Kennys eyes, heavy and wet and salty and they press against Kenny's eyelids and slip slowly across the bridge of his nose, they're cold and salty, a distinct and disgusting contrast to the drying blood that settles across his face. His skin burns and his shoulders feel heavy almost like someone pressing down and familiarly rough fingertips are brushing against the curve of his neck, running cold fingers across a scar that curls around the back of Kenny's jaw.

His breathing shudders out of his chest when Kenny moves, trying to shake the softness of the phantom touch. The touch continues, itching its nails against the tight muscle in Kenny's neck, soft round circles rubbing pain out from around the wounds. He hears a familiar sigh and his eyes blink open, he stares into the dry blood on the floor for a few seconds, mind rushing to catch up with his heart.

It's the same brown shoes he remembers, shimmering and polished, the same cozy sweatpants and the same faded shirt that traces and surrounds the same family body. Kenny's met by the same loving, warm brown eyes that he sees in his dreams and Kenny feels like he's been thrown through realities. Kota follows his eyes up his body with a smile, one that dips when he spots the collection of blood against Kenny's jaw, trickling down the side of his neck and into his shirt.

"I've been looking for you.." Kota whispers. He frowns deeper when Kenny rolls his eyes and shifts his attention back to staring at a hole in the floor. His knees crack and slowly Kenny feels Kota's hands slide up the sides of his face, the tips of his fingers brushing carefully across the dent under his eye. "What's wrong?" He whispers, thumbs pressing into the stubble on Kenny's cheek, silently willing Kenny to just look at him.

"Nothing." Kenny whispers at first, gazing down into the floor before he feels Kota's hands shift and he can't stand the idea of looking at the stars shimmering in the dry blood on the floor anymore. He looks Kota in the eye, watching as the warm chocolate of his eyes melt into something akin to apology as he shifts his weight forwards, bringing Kenny into his lap. "the bucks and I argued." Kenny mumbles, stress melting out of his muscles as Kota tucks his head securely under his chin. He listens to Kota sighs bubble up through his throat.

"Is that why you're bleeding?" Kota asks, scratching the blood off Kennys chin with his nail. His smile stays gentle when Kenny nods and he looks down at him as he chuckles. "you're always so quick to argue with your friends. they love you." Kota tells him softly, resting his arms around Kenny's shoulder, running his fingers slowly across the top of Kenny's spine; brushing his fingertips slowly across each little dent and crevice like he's trying to map the very bones of the man he loves. His hands trace across his ribs and Kenny winces a little, "there's something else, isn't there?"

"No." Kenny answers too quickly in English, grumbling when Kota raises an eyebrow and softly tilts his head. "I can't hide from you like I hide from myself, can I?" Kenny whispers, dragging his stinging lips slowly across Kotas chin, just happy to see him again, to touch him. To hear the soft roundness of his voice without having his alarm to break their slow moments together.

Kota doesn't slowly wrap Kenny's pain in red ribbons; he drags it deeply from his body like he clawing Kenny's very heart out of his chest. he holds his pain softly between his stained palms and runs his thumb softly across the wounds, sealing them closed with a soft touch.

Kota doesn't fix Kenny. Kota takes Kenny as he is. Loves him regardless of his breaking body and the ache that twists around his bloodstream, painting the blues of his eyes dull and sullen.

"Kenny." Kota whispers, dragging Kenny's brain away from a place it really shouldn't go. "What happened?"

"Adam said he loved me."

"Oh."

Kenny just nods and tucks his head back under Kota's jaw. "why are you here?" He asks Kota a few moments later, his tongue dragging the words out of his mouth slowly, almost like asking will speed up time until Kota has to disappear again. Under Kenny's chin he feels Kota chuckle, bright and warm and golden under the night sky.

"For you. Why else?"

•───────•°•❀•°•───────•

@smallestsnarkestgirl @skyqueen3 @josiewrites @itsnoosetome @jacedoe

@golden-disaster @sincyrlee @glitchaxolol @daddywrasslin @bikenny

@katries @thegizardofmars @motorcitygem @miru-has-thoughts @powderflower

@miserablecreachur @afterdarkprincess @mobiblackout @pinksuperkliq @harvey-dent

@thekadster

[hirik0]

You always meet twice part 7

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5 | part 6

Ghost/Soap

Implied tame NSFW

It's been 3 days since Soaps texted and Ghost did everything he could think of to stop thinking about it. He failed miserably no book was intressting enough, no TV show or movie could shut is brain off. The only time he had a little peace of mind was when he worked out. But he can't do that 24/7. He desperately tryed to work through his feelings. Nothing helped so now he sits in Margaret's livingroom Angel on his lap. The black cat jumped on there the second he sat down and haven't moved since. "So Sam what's going on in your head?", Margaret ask having some special Grandma sence that hes in trouble. "I meet someone at work and I can't get them out of my head", Ghost spills his guts out, what's a 75 old lady doing with his relationship problems besides telling them other old people at her bingo and bridge evening. " Oh what's their name?", Margaret ask exited for him. "Johnny. His name is Johnny", Ghost answers after looking at his tea for a few minutes. "What is he like?", Margaret asked with a soft smile on her face. "He's charming, chatty, always a smile on his face, liked by everyone, smart, laughts at my shitty jokes", Ghost recalls the things he remembered at the top of his head. Margaret smiles pleased at him, oh her boy is in love. Ghost became her inofficial grandchild the moment she saw his sad eyes, 3 years ago. "But you both travel a lot for work", Margaret concludes the problem, she's is keeping her mind sharp with cross word puzzels and watching old crime shows. "Yes, its also against company rules", Ghost explains the problem he is in. "People fuck their coworkers all the time", Margaret sighs making Ghost chocke on his tea, caught totally of guard. "Oh please Sam, I had sex with a lot of the doctors and other nurses when I was younger, we wanted to fuck after world war 2. And you know work hours are so long today, where else are you suposed to find someone for a little bit of fun? My youngest granddaughter works nearly 50 hours a week, she has no time to go out", Margaret overshares with him. Ghost just nods along this is way to much information from the old lady. "So go get your man, have some fun", Margaret trys to encourage him. Fuck he liked the way your man sounds. "I.. he rembers me a lot of my friend that died", Ghost sighs looking in his tea cup, referring to Tommy. "Sam, you're always the biggest obstacle in your own live. Let the dead rest, enjoy the living people around you", Margaret shares some of his old lady wisdom with him. "I will try", Ghost says unsure if he really will try. "Thats all I ask for", Margaret approve of his answers pushing the box with biscuits towards Ghost.

Ghost is starting at his phone trying to think about something to text to Soap. Margaret really did but some ideas in his head. But if he can't stay proffesional in the field its dangerous to pursue Soap, for the both of them. He puts the phone down not having written anything. He can check up on the rest of the 141 in the morning. Because Soap don't get special treatment anymore. Chicago was a one time think. He lays down on the couch trying to pay attention to the TV, but he's still thinking about Soap and Tommy. Oh fuck he still has to tell Soap about Tommy. That's a problem to solve for future Ghost.

>> You didn't blow up the base by now right?<<

He finally text to Soap, knowing the other will not answer for a few hours. He then like he learned from the various self-help books he read, after the disaster his attempt at therapy was, makes a pro and con list of the consequences of well fucking Soap ones he guess. Margaret says he should have some fun and date Johnny. Should he even fuck Tommys only good friend? Like what can Tommy even do about it he's dead. Is this wired? To date the friend of your sibling after not seeing each other for years? Well he did he even really know Soap back then, right? Are these strange things to googel, but he cant be the only person in this situation, right? He puts the aspect of it being forbidden by his work on the con site. What if the sex is bad? What if it's to good? He trys to push down all the thoughts that are popping up. He takes a dead breath and is now asking himself if it even maters how the sex will be if its only a onetime think, maybe he still needs to put anything on the pro site. He thinks about it and in the end desites he has time to fill the list before he returns and not to rush anything. With having this sort of battle plan Ghost feels himself finally relax. He picks up one of the books he tryed and failed to read and gets totally absorbed by it.

Hours later Ghost gets ripped out of the book by his phone.

>> You think Price wouldn't have ordered you back if I blow up the base? 🙄🙄<<

Soap texts back.

>> Price could be unconscious, for all I know <<

>> someone would have told you to punish me, if I did blow up part of the base. 🙄 Hows leave?<<

Ghost trys not to read to much in to the punish, Soap don't mean it in a sexual way.

>> Silent <<

>> 🤨 What's that supose to mean LT? <<

>> No busy base sounds and shit <<

>> ah, well I'm going out if Gaz to night LT, text you soon.<<

With that Ghost is putting his phone back down.

Soap is drunk, not only drunk but so drunk he will likely do something really dumb the moment he is alone. He should stay with Gaz, they can share a bed, no big deal, but Price makes sure both Sergeants end up in their own room, alone. The last functional brain cell is screaming at him to go to bed, but the drunk braincells tell him to text Ghost. Just letting him know he had fun with Gaz, harmless. Nothing can go wrong.

When Ghost wakes up he has a bunch of messages from Soap on his phone. 20 messages from Soap and Ghost has the feeling he should ignore them, just swipe the notification away, waiting for a 'sorry for drunk texting you' message to apear and forget the whole thing. Well, Soap just send him some drunk gibberish, they can both laugh about when he's back at base.

>> Had a blast with Gaz <<

>> Price had to bring us back to base <<

>> Would have been better with you there 🥺<<

>> Miss you <<

>> it's unfair that you are still so hot <<

>> You where already studiptly hot when I was 17 <<

Ghost knows he should not look at the rest of the messages. This was clearly not just drunk gibberish. He should close the chat, he should never read this.

>> if you where here, I would have sucked your dick instead of getting this drunk <<

>> so it's your fault that I have a hungover when waking up<<

>> hope you think about something to apologise for that <<

>> is your dick big?<<

Oh shit, no, fuck, put the phone away is Ghost brain screaming. But he can't he needs to read very singel one and then he needs a another tea time with Margaret to work trough his this mess.

>> want to ride your dick so bad<<

>> best ass you will ever stick your dick in<<

>> 🥵 <<

>> voice message <<

Ghost does not klick on the voice message, he will never unhear what ever Soap thought he needs to send via audio.

>> I'm so hard for you<<

>> wish you would wank me off right now<<

>> voice message <<

>> if you send me a dick pic in the morning I send you something back <<

>> 🍆💦 🥵<<

>> voice message <<

Ghost drops his phone on the bed, his morning wood, being very intresteted in Soaps text. Apparently Soap is a horny drunk, right Soap is just drunk and horny. No need to get to worked up about, Ghost trys to tell himself so he dont panics. Soap is intresteted in him, in a sexual way. He needs to put a stop to this. This can't happen again, he needs to tell Soap to keep it professional. He picks up his phone again, his hands are shaking. He accidentally plays the last voice message.

"Fuck, Simon. I wish I was covered in your cum instead of my own."

Ghost brain blue screens. The way how Soap is moaning his name, how fucked out and drunk Soap sounds, the dirty confession that Soap yerked of thinking about Ghost. Ghost thinks he was never in his life this hard. This is a problem, a big problem, he can't tell Price about this. Its already bad enough he knows about this text, but Price will send Soap away, this can't happen, not with Ghost knowing how Soap sounds in bed. Johnny made his next move, after Chicago something that should never happen in the first place. And he set Ghost check mate, freeing a hungry beast, that's only goal is to taste Soap till nothing is left.

When Soap wakes up he just want to die. He sent 20 very embarrassing messages to Ghost. And worst Ghost saw them, ge can inly hope the other didn't listen to the voice messages. He looks through his gallery seeing the selfie he 'promised' to send Ghost for a dick pic. Oh god, what did drunk Soap thought to make such a selfie. Who did he even wrote 'property of Ghost' on his ass? Drunk Soap has some concerning skills. Ghost will kill him when he's back from leave. He deletes the picture and well he has to ask Price to assign him to a new unit. This is so embarrassing, god he cant even tell anyone the reason he left the 141. I drunk sexed the Ghost and survived, everyone would want to see prove of this. He can't, he just have to hope Ghost kills him quickly on the next mission. The worst is he really wants this dick pic.

>> I'm so sorry LT, I fucked up. I understand if you kill me for this<<

[raspberrysmoon]

you'll never settle any of your scores | little lion man - mumford and sons | 10

"take all the courage you have left, and waste it on fixing all the problems that you made in your own head."

paul, discovering how it feels to lose your body, but not quite how it feels to die.

specially dedicated to my pookie @pastriibunz !! good luck today pooks i hope this makes you feel better

paul never liked musicals. anything with that pop-y, animated sound grit on his brain like he was dragging his palms across concrete. its borderline painful, and incredibly annoying.

so, being trapped in a musical with animated, pop-style music is a double whammy.

it becomes a triple whammy when he discovers the hiveminds plan to kill emma. to take kai. it makes him all the more nauseous to think about like that.

his girls, with targets on their backs. the hivemind scolds him for thinking about them like– for thinking they're his– but they are, and losing his autonomy won’t change that so easily.

even thinking like that gets him scolded. he’s not moving fast enough, his back won’t bend far enough, he’s too attached to them.

too attached to a family he doesn’t deserve, it tells him. a family he didn’t even have a week ago. how could he be so attached to a family he’s only known a few days?

but he is. he’s attached. he’s so goddamn attached to them.

..he’s at the front of the line. the other hive members are staring at him expectantly. his mouth moves for a command without his permission. he tells them to lift the meteor. they’re going to move it to a better location, and it’ll be turned into a throne.

a throne fit for a king.

take all the courage you have left,

it makes his gut flutter, a little. hes the king they’re talking about. its thrilling.

but the thrill is shattered when he realizes that they’re not all going to move the meteor. some of them are going to the door. they’re going to get emma and kai. they’re going to hurt emma and kai.

it forces him into action. he drags his nails against the imaginary blue walls around him. he forces himself to scream. he pulls at his clothes and digs at his skin until the thing in his head loosens his leash.

he drops to his knees, ignoring the jolt of pain it sends through him, and begins clawing at his mouth. it won’t let him vomit. it’s not that kind.

give up, it tells him. you can’t save them, and you certainly can’t save yourself anymore.

but he can. he can save himself, and he can save them too. he has to. he’s.. he’s a father. he’s her dad, now. she told him so. he can’t just.. not try to save his daughter.

she’s not your daughter, the thing tells him. its voice is harsh in his mind. she will never be your daughter. you’ll never know her.

but he will. if he can make it to her, and get her and emma out of here, he will know her. he’ll know her favorite color, and how she takes her coffee and the exact amount of cheese she likes in her grilled cheese. he’ll know her favorite fruit, and how she falls asleep best.

you won’t. you’ll die. i will kill you. you don’t get to escape me, this time. i won’t let you.

and waste it on fixing all the problems

but it doesn’t let paul do anything. it doesn’t allow him or disallow him to do jack shit. paul, even here in this terrible place, has his free will.

no, you don’t. you don’t have anything anymore, paul matthews. you don’t have anything, or anyone. you’re alone without me, paul. let me help you.

you won’t help me do shit. he’s not sure if he’s speaking aloud or not. he thinks he might be. you’re going to hurt them.

no, paul, i’m not. i’m going to save them. emma will die if you don’t help her soon. i can do that. they’ll be safe, with you. forever.

but that isn’t true, is it? they’re not safe if they have to live like this. trapped in their mind, where they’ll rot away without control of their body. thats alive, maybe, but its not safe.

kai is here. she’s here dragging herself towards him, biting and kicking and clawing at the rest of his hive on her way.

the rest of the hive. not his.

then she starts screaming. not for him. never for him.

shes screaming for the thing inside his head.

for a moment, he has to wonder if she ever meant calling him dad.

that you made in your own head.

then, he notices the tears on her cheeks. he notices how tense her shoulders are, and how tightly drawn her eyebrows are. she’s not moving towards them frantically. shes moving towards them for a reason. she’s moving towards him. not the thing in his head.

he forces that thought directly out of his mind, and lets the thing take the wheel.

it wraps his arms around her, tugging her into his arms like it had done so millions of times before. carding his hand into her hair, scratching over her scalp and using his voice to tell her its okay. that its there now. that she’s safe.

paul has to strain to hear her call him dad before the blast.

[teddy-feathers]

so. i realized on the way home today that

a) i dont want to die. or i do but like thats definitely not me talking anymore thats the brain goblins. like id be sad to leave behind my friends. so as much as i say 'i wanna die' when im upset, and as much as that emotion is present i dont actually wanna die anymore. like. id be sad if i died just as much as id be relieved.

b) i never feel like enough because the only time im doing anything "right" is when im following a step by step guide laid out for me and i hate that its like playing a video game where the possibilities are pretty full but only playing a build someone else designed and then playing the rest of the game exactly how youre told to like do i need to be here for this?

c) i didnt take my pills this weekend or monday and Tuesday while i was sick or wednesday because i hadnt been taking them the previous days and despite having taken them the last two days i am emotional as fuck.

tuesday i went to a doctor and found out ive gained.... 10lbs in a month and im pretty close to breaking the 200 mark. which is because of my meds. so i need to contact my shrink and say "exercising and eating right aint uh working out for me the way i hoped can we try new meds"

because as much as i want to be chill about it it bothers me so much. like if it was all in my gut like itd be if i were on t id probably give less shits but where its at now its bothering me. and if i break the 200 make i know its going to be so much harder to come down from.

and new meds are scary because i know these ones work because i always know when i havent been taking them. i get the sads. new ones may not work and we'll have to adjust the dosage.

and if i tell my aunt shell throw a fit because how dare my shrink lower my dosage just because i called her and told her i was having a problem with how it was affecting me. and now she wants to put me on different meds? without doing a brain scan?

like frankly my dear i dont give a damn. this woman had done more for making me not dead in the last idk how long ive been seeing her to be honest then my aunt has since before 2012.

idk. im tired. and emotional.

[piplupod]

its all good and fine when I can recognize smth is the moral ocd because then i can at least tell myself im being silly even if i don't always believe it.

however. the real issue arises when i cannot tell if smth is the moral ocd or if its a genuine thing that i am doing badly/not trying hard enough with/etc.

example of brain spiral under the cut:

because then im tearing myself apart and telling myself i need to read books i dont have the energy or brain ability for (not in a lazy way, in a genuine "words are not processing in the brain and i cannot understand a single sentence of what I'm reading" way) and fight everyone on every bigoted thing they say until i have no friends left and my family truly hates my guts and i commit suicide because then maybe I'll be a real activist who's trying hard enough, because if I'm not doing enough to the point where i call out every single thing thats wrong and want to die then am i really actually learning enough and thinking abt things enough and doing enough? if I ignore Anything in favour of my own safety and well-being then I'm complicit in fascism and bigotry and would probably be better off dead anyways because the world doesnt need more self-hating self-serving cowards like me. why should i ensure my own safety when other people out there are unsafe because they don't have the option to hide? i should be experiencing every little bit of hurt and danger every oppressed minority out there experiences, otherwise I'll never understand how it really feels and i must understand it fully so that i can be a better activist and fight for real change.

this is a genuine train of thought that i continuously go through until I'm able to either stress myself out over something else enough to distract myself or get distracted by smth else. this comes up at once every two days, often more, and I genuinely cannot tell whether this is the moral ocd tendencies or if it's a correct line of thinking.

because what if it Is the correct line of thinking and everyone who tells me otherwise is just too complicit in bigotry and fascism to "put in the real work" and sacrifice their comfort? i dont know! im so tired of this though because i feel like a terrible person no matter what direction i go with this, and i obviously cannot tell any mental health professionals (counselor and psychiatrist) i see about it because they're all useless for me and I wouldn't believe anything they say anyways. (also i am ashamed of it and dont want them knowing lol)

anyways. if anyone has any insight lmk bc i am desperate lol. if this is the correct line of thinking then i would like to know so i can start doing more shit, and it its the moral ocd then I'd like to know so i can stop agonizing over this so consistently.

[nishiriks]

‼️THIS CONTAINS SPOILERS FOR THIS SMAU AND THE TWO SPINOFFS (happy death day and dont shoot me)‼️

this smau is very dark so i HIGHLY suggest reading through the warnings. the spinoffs are slightly lighter themed however can still be triggering so AGAIN just to reiterate—READ THE WARNINGS!!

Sweet Like Candy

IM SORRY BUT THE WAY FELIX WAS DESCRIBED IN SLC WAS SO DISTURBING?? i genuinley felt so scared everytime i would read a scene with him 😭😭 BUT IN A GOOD WAY IF THAT MAKES SENSE!! no but guys he was so unsettling it was crazy 💀 had me pissing myself over this. bro i fr cried over jisung and felix cs wtf. felix did NOT have to die like that man,, then the open casket thing like do you want me to shoot myself?? cs girlie the gun is LOCKED AND LOADED. — all jokes aside the plot is very interesting and is something tou can easily get sucked into. it takes you through a rollercoaster of emotions but is defo worth it!!

Happy Death Day

now i will admit i was STILL terrified of felix but even so i chose to read this which added to the whole anxiousness of the plot for me!! —the description of of him in sweet like candy,, having lifeless eyes and him cornering us and being able to slip away without being noticed very much scared me!!— this one left me so anxious bcs i thought felix was gonna die 😭 when i saw jisung saying he better make it out alive. OUUUUUUU. i was about to start bawling💀 chan lowk pissed me off sometimes but i cld occasionally see his point ig. nana and gaon have my whole heart though 🥹🥹 MY BABIES!! AFHSHSHSG soojin or wtv her name was can go fuck herself bcs quite frankly she was embarrasing. i loved channies relationship and trust with/in felix tho!! that was so cute “lee yongbok, if i knew that week was the last time i’d see you, i would’ve thrown a party”

“if hiding is the best thing for him right now, then i respect that”

OH MY POOR HEART 🥹 — this whole triology was so well written i felt like i was going insane if i put it down for more than an hour at a time so i had to read all three in one sitting

Don’t Shoot Me

ok now this one is either your fav of the triology or your least fav — no inbetween. see personally it was my fav!! im a sucker for a good fluff and this was exactly what i needed to end the binge reading of angst, violence, death and more angst that i was going through!! as much as i loved the darkness of the story i will ALWAYS be a fluff girl at heart 🫶🫶

not to say the other two werent good!! but damn did they fuck up my brain. slc has left a LASTING imprint on me. LONG LASTING. at that. dont shoot me had the least interesting plot emotionally but with a series like this—it worked perfectly. it also was interesting enough that tou could read it as a stand-alone even without all the emotional plot. it was focused on jisung healing and becoming better which was so sweet,, i also loved to see that side of things where jisung has no idea why he is the way he is,, but is also aware that he ISNT normal and that something sets him and his ability to understand emotions aside from everyone else. it was so cute to see that girls gc although i did notice nayeon was missing!! -mayb she js didnt say anything at the time who knows 🤷🏾‍♀️-

my fav moment was defo the last chap where all the boys meet. it was so refreshing to see!! (jisung and hyune being bffs was mind boggling btw) plus,, chan defending hdd y/n was something i was NOT expecting!! and seeing hyunjin defend slc y/n made me laugh bcs i cldnt stop thinking about how they used to HATE each others guts 😭 jeongin was honestly such a cutie i love him sm! OH AND I LOVED WHEN JISUNG SAID “i know for a fact all i feel for guys is love” AWW YOU PREVIOUSLY-INSANE-BUT-RECOVERING LITTLE GUY!! cmere lemme kiss you!

anyways thats all from me,, all im saying is GET TO READING TS CS ITS GOOD!!

🍭 SWEET LIKE CANDY | hwang hyunjin smau

pairing: hwang hyunjin x reader | enemies to lovers / strangers to lovers

genre: angst, mature, social media au, university au, anonymous au, a tiny bit of fluff and crack in between

warnings: contains vulgarity, extreme cussing, degradation, use of death as an insult, not a sweet fic, sexual/explicit themes but no detailed smut, sabotaging and blackmailing, extreme academic competetiveness, y/n and hyunjin both talk shit about each other’s college majors, mentions of drugs, illegal drug use, excessive partying, irresponsible drinking, drunk driving, criminal(??) acts, insults are h e a v y, bodyshaming (yk what, all kinds of shaming). syndicate undertones. death.

synopsis: long time rival hwang hyunjin has been the bane of your existence for as long as you can remember. thank god your secret anon textmate always has your back— sweet, caring, and good with words. definitely not like hwang at all.

a/n: y’know it was hard trying to come up with this “anonymous app” thing idea without naming names (bc i don’t wanna do that and also idk, i’m dumb) but basically the website/app that candy and y/n (her anon name is chocolate) is like a mix of deviantart and tumblr-ish. the idea started with it being kinda like omegle but then i ended up switching it up.

[FINISHED] DIRECTORY: (pink = written chapters)

ACT I— THE PLAYGROUND

prologue ~ 001 ~ 002 ~ 003 ~ 004 ~ 005 ~ 006 ~ 007 ~ 008 ~ 009 ~ 010 ~ 011 ~ 012 ~ 013 ~ 014 ~ 015 ~ 016 ~ 017 ~ 018 ~ 019 ~ 020 ~ 021 ~ 022 ~ 023 ~ 024 ~ 025 ~ 026 ~ 027 ~ 028 ~ 029 ~ 030

ACT II— THE WARZONE

031 ~ 032 ~ 033 ~ 034 ~ 035 ~ 036 ~ 037 ~ 038 ~ 039 ~ 040 ~ 041 ~ 042 ~ 043 ~ 044 ~ 045

ACT III— THE END

046 ~ 047 ~ 048 ~ 049 ~ 050 ~ 051 ~ 052 ~ 053 ~ 054 ~ 055 ~ 056 057 ~ 058 ~ 059 ~ 060 ~ 061 ~ 062 ~ 063 ~ 064 ~ 065 ~ 066 ~ 067 ~ 068 ~ 069 ~ 070

BONUSES

01 ~ 02 ~ 03

LOST HOOKS. SPIN-OFF/SEQUEL: HAPPY DEATH DAY (the story of lee felix) SECOND SPIN-OFF: DON'T SHOOT ME (the story of han jisung)

(mm/dd/year)

started: 10-11-2021

completed: 01-09-2022

mastertag: @geniejunn @leagreenly @90s-belladonna @fuzzylard @loveliebri @chimmybaek7 @todorokiskitten @lilacdreams-00 @starrylino @trials--error @ninjaleeknow

networks: @ficscafe

any feedback is greatly appreciated :,))))

[the-smiling-grinner]

hey uh dont read this 👍 TW vent

okay so basically everything has gone to shit. lets get a lil back story here

so ill be 17 soon (terrifying) and it will be almost 4 years sober of everything and i could not be more miserable. when i was 12 i abused perscription medication during the 2020 lockdown and in the process got into other things (cigs and alchol).

i dont really think that anyone understands how deep it goes. i mean think about it, a 12 yearold already suffering from halucinations, delusions and other things. on two kinds of anti psychotics, drinking, smoking and taking way to many pills. its pretty messed up.

my parents had never been the best but a brain tumour caused my mother to become abusive. i dont remember much of 2020-2021 bc i was either high, drunk, in a psychotic episode or sometimes all three. but i remember some things and the things i do remember are bad. it got so bad that i barely knew what was going on half the time.

safe to say my appearence was less than ideal. i wore a covid face mask constantly. even when you stopped having to at school. and i still wear it. simply bc i know people will make fun of me for it more than they already do if i take it off. as much as i want to stop wearing it, i know i cant.

my hair was dyed black and greasy, my achne was bad and my teeth were messed up. i was over weight, then under weight, then over weight again. i was hidious. evey photo taken of me, i looked through the camera. i had nothing left behind my eyes. i was so close to giving up entirely.

my mother had her brain tumour removed and my life was starting to take shape again. thats when she came in. she was beautiful in every way. i hated her but i loved her all the same. she caused me so much pain but it felt great.

it seemed like a good idea at the time. to date her. but i soon deacovered that she was not like she seemed. in many ways ill not describe. she ripped me appart, absolutly gutted me from the inside. i developed FND (look it up i cant be bothered explaining). my life was starting to go down hill again. i felt sick constantly. my halucinations were terrible and my mental state was even worse. i had sezures and headaches every day.

then we broke up. it was drawn out and long but to leave it all behind was freeing. i felt free for the first time in months. then she back stabbed me. i wont say what happend but this is the reason i can not trust people. my paranoia is through the roof. i constantly think about how everyone is conspiring against me and that they arent really my friends.

anyway. enough about her.

i am lonely and i fear that i will always feel this way. i have friends and a boyfriend yes but they also have friends. my halucinations icolate me. i behave agressively and erratically. nothing as bad as 2021 and 2020 but still bad.

i dont know what to do so i throw myself into school. its all i really do anymore. that and pretend i have friends. i sit at the kitchen bench and speak to no one. i have many friends there. i can act how i want and they like it. i have no one to talk to about this.

i try to talk to God but i feel bad burdening him with it like i am with everyone else. i dont feel good enough for God or any one for that matter.

im nothing like the pretty Christian girls on tiktok who look so pure and sweet. the look so kind. true women of God. i am not. i try to be but it never works out. i look scruffy, my hair is always messed up, i wear weird clothes, im rude, i cuss way too much and im just not a very nice person to be around.

i want to be tho. more than anything i want to be kind. i want to be good enough. and it doesnt even seem like im trying.

i really want cigs and alchaol. to medicate like i did all those years ago but i cant. sinning every day with small things is bad enough but those are worse.

i do my best in school and thats enough. it makes me feel like enough. im good at school. im good at it. im not good at many things but im good in school. i got dux in two subjects last year and finished top 10% of my grade. thats enough right?

every day i feel my sanity slowly slipping away. being replaced by paranoia and horrible halcinatoins. i tell myself that ill never get as bad as i was back then but deep down, i want it. bc this time, people would see it. they would know how bad it is and how my jokes are just a cry for help.

i have been put on more medication as of recently and im scaired. i dont know what it will do to me. will it kill me? will it make me put on weight? who knows. ive already had bulimia i dont need it again.

on top of this, im loosing my best friend. i can see how much they suffer. i can see how bad it is for them. they have made heaps of new friends recently and i am so happy for them but we so rarely talk now. when we do, its great. we used to see eachother every weekend, now we dont. i ask first to hang out and i feel bad, like im forcing them. i dont want to force them.

there was more i could have done for them that night. if it wasnt for those drugs. those fucking drugs. the dugs that i took to take me away from everything. to make me happy. but i wasnt happy. i was insane. i was deranged. surely anyone who looked at me could see it. that night i ripped out 4 teeth. one of them was an adult tooth. a mf adult tooth. i tore out a tooth. i was 13 by then.

i have to make my parents happy and when i dont i feel bad. i want to make my dad happy and go to his house but i hate that house. i want to make my mum happy but it always ends in an argument. i want to make my friends happy but i cant and if they can find friends to make them happy. then thats okay.

i just dont know anymore. everything is so blury. the paranoia is imence. i hate it. anyway. hope no one actually reads this.

there is SO much more but this is all for now

[duhhhhimstypidyall-blog]

Spiraling (Vent/Brain Dump)

TW: mental breakdown, spiraling, ranting, ect.

 !PLEASE DO NOT READ IF YOU ARE NOT IN A GOOD HEADSPACE!

The concept of time is really fucked when you are experiencing severe dissociation episodes. My entire life I’ve lacked a general awarness of time and don’t seem to have a reliable internal clock like some others. Everything I experience seems to be in polar extremes. Time either moves so painfully slow that it seems like a day will never end or so fast that it seems like I blink and a week has passed. It is even more complicated when it seems to have both characteristics simultaneously even though from a logical stand point it should not be possible. I’m assuming that is why it is so hard for me to comprehend. When I was a kid, all the super exciting things in life always sped by while undesireable experiences seemed to slow everything down. Now it has nothing to do with the surrounding circumstances. Each day I live makes less and less sense to me. The funny thing is every once and a while I will go a few weeks or maybe even a month without giving this whole ordeal a single thought, but it always creeps back in and its been getting alarmingly worse upon each return. Throw sleep deprivation, an eating disorder, and isolation into the mix and I am left with an ugly cocktail of a spiraling psychotic breakdown. One thing people always have to say to someone in a rough mental health patch is that you will get through this and move past it. Although I am not necesarily disagreeing with this statement, it is not giving me any sort of hope, which I am assuming is supposed to be the outcome of the statement. It does not provide hope because even though I always somehow get out of these episodes, I never remember them once thier over. That also means being in it right now, I don’t have a known way of getting out of it because I don’t remember what I did last time to get out. I am not sure that made much sense but thats besides the point. It is so strange to be in this state. I am here enough to know that I am not here which is ironic because again, that contradicts itself. I would compare it as sort of going on autopilot, I am reluctantly getting out of my desk chair and going to work but I could not tell you any of the conversations that I had or even what events from the shifts were on which particular day of the week. I am just all around delirous and checked the fuck out. I am starting to get frustrated again with feeling stuck in a loop with no progress being made and it feels pointless. I know I have so much more to say but I keep zoning out and staring at what I know are my fingers on the keyboard but they sure do not seem entirely connected to me right now. They just look slightly off, its that feeling you get when you see the pictures of those liminal spaces and factually there is nothing immediatly concerning about the photos but you get this gut feeling that there is something off behind the scenes. I must have punched my car again at some point recently because I have nasty bruises on my hand again. If I am being honest I haven’t slept in 2 days and I cannot remember the last time I ate. I keep seeing things out of the corner of my eye that are most likely not even there and hearing shit I can assume is not real either. I just wish I did not have to go through this alone. I am a complete looser and a failure, I am in my early 20′s and have NO friends, I live by myself and am only close with my sister out of the family who is unfortunately 3 hours away from me. We are in contact daily over the phone and on social media due to our shared interests but it is not the same as having someone physically in your presence to bring you back down to earth a little bit. I really need a fucking hug, I am so touch starved that if someone were to genuinely embrace me I just know I would immediately burst into tears and hyperventilate through my violent sobbing. I know I am supposed to deserve to be loved and have friends but its hard to believe that when I have nothing to prove otherwise. If I deserved friendship and love wouldn’t I have it? Some of the nastiest and cruel people in the world are allowed those luxuries so why the fuck am I the one that gets it taken away from me. I don’t have anyone to tell my jokes too. I have nobody to play video games with. I have nobody to share my newest plot ideas with. I just want to share the human experience with at least one other person like the rest of the world gets to. It is not fair. I have not done anything in my life that would constitute a punishment as cruel as this. Recently I have been listening to the song Karma by AJR and I feel like it really captures the way I feel about the whole thing. Especially the line, “the universe works in mysterious ways but I’m starting to think it ain’t working for me”. It confuses me because in an abstract way the human experience is following the rules laid out by the universe and in turn recieving either good or bad things based on your compliance. It just seems like I am being expected to follow an entirely different set of rules and rewards but I have no idea what they are and noone will tell me what they are. I come to the universe asking questions because it is just the way that things are supposed to be and thats just how it works, but for some reason I am met with notions of “well not for you though” with no further explainations. What am I doing this for? I do not belong in this timeline, I feel like I got misplaced on accident and that this is not the lifetime that I am supposed to be navigating but I am trapped here until the end of humanity.  

[ace-of-gay]

Im gonna respond to all of these

I prefer writing oneshots

I get a quick general idea written down like very simple stuff like "bucky and reader go on adventures" and big detail i want make sure are in it but thats it

Mines honestly not that interesting or special, i just take a little while to think and then i word splurge, its the exact same way i write poetry it just happens

All over the place, music, my favorite scenes in books/ movies, things i desire, and most certainly from my weird daydreaming episodes

I love constructive criticism as long as theres no hate included

I do not have it beta'd, i just read it six times and put it into word to make sure i catch as many mishaps as possible

I only write in one type of pov because thats how i brain splurge, other pov's take alot more time

I prefer the middle, it always has the most fill to it

Sometimes i comment but im still utterly shy and anxious when commenting

Number ten is absolute gibberish to me... (im on mobile so its confusing to me)

Of my own? Meh probably happiness greed because its my experience written in partial poetry ... of someone elses? Delicate edges!

I love receiving it but it doesn't bother me if i dont get any feedback, ijust want others to be happy

If you have a word pop up im your mind at any time of the day and you don'tknow what it means, look it up, ive expanded my vocabulary by simply asking my phone to define words

I definitely draw from personal experience and like to put my mind in that state for a moment and figure out how i would act

I dont write nsfw stuff although I do occasionally read it if the writing style is encapsulating to me

Like 20 ideas... mmmm tony x reader, stealing his sunglasses so he makes you your own

I just avoid writing when i struggle with it, why hurt my mind with something i enjoy ya-know?

I title mine afterwards, i honestly just take the general idea and put it into words i xant describe it any other way

I dont read or write on ao3 but if i did it would probably be " gut-wrenching fluff "

I love the idea of fluff and cuddles... i crave attention but hate having it in real life so i write storied that give me the attention i crave and share it with others who crave that attention (:

Absolutely i would, i think i already have with one of my friends kinda, i just dont remember what fic it was

I dont write smut

Splurge!! Thow ideas down and when one won't leave your mind think about it as much as you can

To stop writing, genuinely the only thing i can remember

Back when i wrote on fanfic.net i had one that was around 5000 words and it was so full of emotions, sadly its gone now and i didn't write the way i do now so its not saved to any of my devices but it never got much attention

I honestly don't know but in the idea of my personal experience im gonna say happiness greed

I hate the writing it down part, i love the splurge of ideas and seeing that people enjoyed my writing

Uuuh maybe like a sentence here or there on my off days but on good days around 1000 words or more

Read ove it six times, put it into word fix the grammer mistakes add my warnins and stuff and than its good to go

9.5 /10 times i wait unless i know its not deep enough to complete in full

Uhhh both, honestly it mixes together and i dunno i get the ideas at the same time

Skip... cause i forget everyones names and i love everyones writing so so much!!

I hope to publish my poetry someday so technically yes

Probably still writing poetry, hopefully writing a book

They still think how everyone else does their experiences in life are just skewed, trauma can do some crazy things

I have absolutely no idea

I also have no idea

Isnt that what the asks are? Like free commissions? I already do lol

Uuuh i cant find any currently lol

Probably a hug with any charcter from any of my extra fluffy fics

I reread fics all the time, i have links to my favorites saved in my phone

I dont remember currently

I like reading whump in moderation im not sure my feelings on writing it but im not against it

Just silly spelling errors

Sometimes yes to one Sometimes yes to the other

Fluff with trauma

Six times in my notes app and once in word

No one betas my work

On my agere fics people get upset sometimes but i deleate the occasional hate comment, cant bother me when im in a stable mindset on something but that doesn't mean i wont protect others minds in my comments

Like 3000+ words if its even still on here

I dont use a03

I respond to comments as often as possible so people know ive seen what they've said and that they know i appreciate them

70% reader 30%writer

Thinking to myself, in the show/ movie they would never do said thing, but this is my version so of course they would

I love writing for bucky and loki in a way that feels like theyre healing their trauma

Smilies and new words! I love expanding my vocabulary

Editing small things as i write and anything i missed i fix after

Does posting count? Cause one its done im happy

So technically yes and no, so my family knows i write stories but not fanfictions, my best friend knows lol

Yes!!! And they said they love my writing style and agjfkrek it made me giddy with excitement

I like putting my ideas places

Completed series yessss, incomplete with cluff hangers i fear im gonna forget to come back

Orbs... globes, ... just say eyes

I dunno honestly

I look forward to finishing up on the asks that are sitting in my ask box!

I kinda just dont, with my migraines my schedules are basically unpredictable

I like both but im more consistent with independent works

Read, listen to music, watch movies, daydream

Luckily none of them honestly

Enthusiastic because i have more than just fanfics if they want to see

In my head, things in my head are in filing cabinets, jts strange

It all depends honestly

I have no idea, my writing is generic to me

The poetic parts, my poetry is written i. A very specific way

N/A

Yes, person with oral fixation (desire to chew on things and put non edible items in ones mouth) loki scolds their new puppy for chewing things and person starts to try to not chew on things, i was gonna write it but forgot to finish it now it just sits in my drafts

Any of the self indulgent ones

Get to know your fic writer!

Do you prefer writing one-shots or multi-chaptered fics?

Do you plan each chapter ahead or write as you go?

Describe the creative process of writing a chapter/fic

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Cltr+f "blinks" on your WIP & copy paste the first sentence/paragraph that comes up

Link your three favorite fics right now

how does receiving or not receiving feedback/support impact you?

what’s a common writing tip that you almost always follow?

how do you write emotional scenes? Do you ever feel what the characters feel? Do you draw from personal experiences?

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[lost-little-fawn]

there really is something different about my suffering

something special and secret, sacred, something 

about it being mine. something about how 

thoroughly ive pored over these memories like scripture. 

i know every line, and wrinkle, and pore, and hair, and atom, cell 

just like the back of his hands around my throat, my fingers pressing hard

into the sinew n vein, eyes searching his for empathy, making sure he'll

stop this time, making sure his wolf smile is kind enough to give me mercy 

i am a sacrifice and i feel my veins carry the ache, feel the transit

my skin slices itself open on the film negatives as the flashbacks

press plum bruise fingerprints into my shoulders as they shake me.

knives slice the world into wedges and the pain bleeds through.

silence carries his voice. my own touch feels like his fingers. i want

to place myself on an altar. i want to offer myself to something more holy than me

than the bent halo that blinds me when i look thru my eyelashes. 

i did love him, maybe,

but was that my fault?

havent i loved everyone who hurt me? 

havent i placed the same knife that gutted me into the hands of my hunter, 

every single time?

isnt every single thing that ever happened to me my own crime to repent?

this is my purpose, this is my worship. 

i do not deserve softness, i wanted it to hurt. i wanted it to kill me. 

except

thats what he whispered into my ear as i slept, injected into my brain matter

thats what he pavloved, that's what i learned thru the breaking 

he tossed parts of me aside that i havent seen since, i watched them die. 

the puzzle of me is missing the corners, bent and warped. the robotics 

are so deeply ingrained i cannot deny them. his voice is more familiar 

to me than my own. inherently, he won. my life holds more stains of him than my 

months old laundry. he still lives in my mattress. he still reaches for me in my sleep. 

the love i felt for him was service. kneeling, outstretched, my skin taunt, 

set in only after it got so bad i ceased being human and started being meat, 

started dotting my i's with my own arteries, cut my tongue out, spoke no evil, 

shed my skin and molted, renamed, desecrated, rebuilt. 

his teeth sunken into my bones, my eyes downturned, my mouth sewn shut. 

butterfly heart, watching the strings that controlled him for sudden movement, 

so high strung i walked a tightrope n he walked securely on the ground, 

my throat screamed as i begged god for sleep each night, lying next to him

as his breaths, even and whole, unbothered, watched over me, 

a nervous, flighty hope in the moments that he almost was kind. 

when we half laughed for just a moment, when his hand lightened its grip and

something soft was draped over his claws and he held me, in that 

shipwreck bed, in that cavernous hole, in the sheets that held my screams. 

i loved him like a burning house and everything i owned burned with it

i loved him with my everything, with more than i had, i put myself into debt

i loved him like the barrel of a gun

i loved him like a becoming, like a monsoon, like a cold, uninhabited need, 

because that's how he built me. i was pinocchio, i was unfinished, fragmentary, 

so wasted, so braindead, an empty shell, a ripe home for him to nest. 

i do not know how to remodel myself into a home i can inhabit 

when my rooms can only ever fit the shape of someone so much bigger than me.