#tw excessive swearing

[itisaterriblelove]

GIVING ELLE SPACE WAS PROBABLY a better idea than spending any one on one time with her. But the fucking truth was that it probably wasn’t Elle who needed the fucking space—the opposite, actually, considering the whole damn fight was about me ditching her for Tyler—it was me. Maybe I just needed to get my head on straight, because it was starting to feel like everything was turning upside down and I was helpless to do anything but watch it spin.

I don’t know what the fuck happened.

Elle and I had always had a dynamic friendship, pretty much since grade school. She’d been one of the weirder kids, and a lot of the others had made fun of her for it. But I’d thought she was fucking fascinating, even then, and not much had changed since.

It was never a sexual thing, not with Elvis. Some people were just too fucking awesome to complicate shit with sex. She was special to me, and I’d never made any qualms about admitting that. Not to her and not to anybody else, either. After years of the same, everybody seemed to understand that about us.

We’d been fine. We’d been perfect. Elle and I had been coasting on a perfectly functional relationship for years. Until recently.

I liked girls. I liked hooking up. I even liked relationships. It was fun to see how two people gelled together and what stupid shit we managed to get bent out of shape about with each other in the process. What shit eventually ended it. But the thing all of my relationships had in common? Yeah… They all fucking ended. Mostly on good terms, but me and the girl were sure as shit not best friends before or after it. And it was okay when those girls came and went. When things changed… As long as the big things stayed the fucking same. And Elvis Hirsche was one of those big things.

Which was why—without ever really talking about it—Elle and I had decided to avoid that whole fucking messy minefield. It had never needed a conversation before.

So why the fuck did I feel like it needed one now?

Maybe it was just me? Maybe I was making a bigger deal where there wasn’t one. I couldn’t be sure. It suddenly felt like I couldn’t be sure of anything where Elle was concerned.

“Gavin?” The sound of my name on her lips let me know that she’d said my name more than once while I lost myself in thought about her. Elle’s impatient face confirmed that assumption. “Am I playing this right? It sounds off?” 

I tried to listen as Elle strummed on my guitar, but all I could hear was the rushing sound of blood in my veins as I watched her bite down on her bottom lip in concentration. And it was mother-fucking distracting, to say the least.

I cleared my throat and forced my eyes away from her cute little body, bent over my guitar on the sofa in my living room. Today’s lesson had been longer than anticipated, and it was all my fault, I knew it.

“Sorry baby, do that one more time for me.” 

I had to clear my head if it was the last thing that I did. There was something off track in me when I couldn’t seem to stop thinking about how it felt to wake up with Elle curled up in my arms, with the scent of her hair pressed against my nose.

I liked my girlfriend—a lot. And I didn’t see that changing any time soon. So I really couldn’t understand where the frustration had snuck in from. 

Elle strummed the series of chords again without complaint, effectively pulling me out of myself long enough to concentrate on the music. It was a rare fucking day where music didn’t have my full attention, but apparently I was going a bit against the grain today.

She was right, actually, about something being off. But it wasn’t because she’d done what I showed her wrong. Quickly, I realized my own mistake. I was supposed to be teaching her a new song, but my mind was so off topic that I hadn’t even played it right for her to learn from me.

“It seems like it should go more like this…” She played in a way that better rounded the music, creating a more complete tune with barely a mistake. For a moment I could only sit in stunned silence as I processed what had just happened. It wasn’t like Elle was playing by ear—not exactly—because I was teaching her something that I wrote. And so she’d taken my mistake and fixed it, then somehow managed to make it sound even better without my input.

“Gavin?” She prodded me with her foot, lifting her face from the guitar to stare at me. One of her eyebrows arched and I realized that I had been silent for too long. “Where is your mind today?” 

“I only just taught you those chords last month!” I knew it sounded like a complaint, but I really couldn’t help myself. “Fuck, Elle! Maybe I should stop teaching you, before you become a better guitarist than me.” 

She beamed at me, all the smugness splayed across her expression, and shrugged. “Better watch your back, Gavin Porter.” Elle tapped my guitar gently and shot me a warning look. “I might be taking your spot in the band soon!” 

“Hey, hey!” I cupped my heart in mock-offense. “That’s so fucking rude.” I shook my head at her. “I thought we were starting our own band. What happened to that?” 

“Oh, yeah!” Elle actually wiggled on the sofa with my guitar in her lap, she was so excited by the thought. “I could play the bongos and we could travel in one of those campers.” 

“Now that’s the life.” I laughed at the genuine gleam of excitement in her eyes; it was hard not to take her seriously when she said outrageous things like that. I suspected she actually meant them all.

“We could live off love and a tip jar,” she announced with a sage nod of her head. 

My smile softened as I agreed with her. “Sounds good to me, baby. Sign me up.” 

She shifted, settling my guitar down next to the sofa, propped up against the end table. “What do you think we should name our band? And can I finish my fashion design degree first?” 

Yeah, okay. She was probably fucking serious. I shrugged. “You should definitely finish your degree first. Garrett and Amy would never let me hear the fucking end of it if I ran off with you and didn’t let you finish school. You know, they think I’m a bad influence on you?!”

Elle scoffed. “It’s like your parents have never met my parents before…” She shook her head, but the smile on her face gave away her actual appreciation of my parents’ assessment of our friendship. She snapped her fingers at me in the way people do when someone’s being too slow about something. “Names, bucko!” 

I blinked at her. “Uh-uh.” I shook my head. “You’re better at that stuff than me. You pick.”

She squirmed again, and I could practically see the wheels turning in her head. “I’ll have to think about it, then. And you’re not allowed to veto anything that I pick! Since you’re not contributing.” 

“Those are some steep terms, Elle.” I regarded her seriously but she didn’t even flinch. “All right, fine. But no boy band references!” I had to at least have that much assurance. “Non-negotiable.” 

She pouted at me. An honest to god, serious fucking pout that had me nervous all over again. Fuck. Everything. “Non-negotiable, baby.” I repeated, refusing to be swayed. 

I shouldn’t have been surprised when she threw herself in my lap. I mean, fucking honestly. I should have seen it coming, because this was Elle, and this was just the shit that we did. But damn.

I was on the floor, a notebook opened on the coffee table in front of me, and literally at Elle’s feet from where she sat on the sofa. And one second she was there, pouting, and the next she had launched herself onto my lap like it was no big deal.

It shouldn’t have been—it wasn’t always—but it really fucking was.

It wasn’t a sexy thing that she did. I mean, it wasn’t supposed to be… She was in some regular jeans and a hoodie and nothing fucking special, and I had held her in my arms a hundred thousand times. So it should have been run of the mill.

Except it was Elle, all warm and soft, and smelling like vanilla for some fucking reason. And when she wrapped her arms around me, all I could think about was sliding my tongue up the curve of her neck, and it was really fucking me up.

My heart started going a hundred miles an hour, which was just so fucking dumb. But I was a hundred and fucking ten percent sure she tasted better than she smelled, and all I could think about was finding out for sure. 

“I’m sorry we fought last night.” Her breath and her hair tickled along my neck, as I carefully wrapped my arms around her. “It was stupid. I hate fighting with you. I’m sorry I ruined your date.”

I tried to tell my heart to calm the fuck down but it just wouldn’t listen. I breathed, slowly in and slowly out, before even trying to respond to her. “I’m sorry I ditched you, baby. It was my fault.”

It wasn’t.

Elle had been less than gracious about Tyler from the start, and I had been pretending not to notice all along. But shit, I was noticing now.

“What's your problem with Tyler?” Elle shrugged and I felt, more than saw, her shoulders rising with it.

“I don’t know. I don’t have a problem with her?” She tipped her head back so that she could look at me. Which was a horrible fucking thing for her to do, because it just put her face that much closer to mine. If we shifted, I could have her on her back in a few seconds. Out of the hoodie, out of the shirt, just my hands on her skin. My mouth.

It was soft—Elle’s skin—and smooth and tan and taut. She’d probably let me do it, too. I thought she might.

Un-fucking-believable. I couldn’t focus for three seconds.

I swallowed and leaned my head just slightly back. It took a moment for me to get my thoughts back on track, to reorient myself to the topic of conversation. Girlfriend, right. One that Elle did not like. “I think you kind of do, Elle.” My tone wasn’t as light as I expected it to be, because my tone was usually always light. Soft, uncommitted. But at the moment everything was heavy and filled with tension. Even my vocal chords. 

Elle sighed. “I guess I’m just… jealous.” I could see the word was hard for her to push out, and it was even harder for me to hear. It caused a tightness in my chest that I wasn’t entirely sure what to do with. And I must have looked like something—I don’t fucking know what—but my face was telling Elle something that she apparently did not want to hear. I knew this when she pulled away from me and scooted onto the open space on the floor beside me. She pulled in to herself, drawing her knees up, and rested her chin against them.

I’d been uncomfortable with her right up on me, but I was fucking hating the space that she’d created once she moved.

“I mean… You have someone and I don’t.” She sort of shrugged without looking at me, and her voice had gotten smaller. That tightness in my chest increased, but I couldn’t understand exactly why.

“I think I just need a boyfriend.” At that word—boyfriend—all of my muscles tensed. Like a coiled spring, every part of me clenched together. I was fucking speechless, and breathless too.

For some reason, the idea of Elle needing a boyfriend sucked all of the air out of the room.

“I mean…” she blinked, and her big eyes zeroed back in on my cornered expression. “I spend almost all of my free time with you. And I’m practically graduated college and yet I’m still a virgin! That’s crazy, right?!” 

I couldn’t have answered her if I’d wanted to… Every fucking word in the English language had just erased from my mind.

I must have been quiet for too long, because Elle twisted her body to look at me and arched one eyebrow again. “Gavin?” She prodded my kneecap with her pointer finger. I caught her finger and tugged, encouraging her to come back to me. This time her legs straddled me on either side, and we sat there, face to face for a moment where I really wasn’t sure what I was going to do next.

I settled my hands on her hips and let out the breath that I’d been holding. “Don’t have sex with some asshole just to say you did it, Elle.” There was my voice, and it wasn’t even shaky. It was some kind of fucking miracle. “I would hate that.” The longer I looked at her—this close to my face—the surer I was that I was going to kiss her. Just fuck the consequences, I was practically desperate to feel her lips on my skin. I wasn’t proud of the realization, but I knew for sure that I wanted my tongue in her mouth.

If she moved, if she even breathed hard enough. 

“You should make sure it’s the right asshole, okay?” There was no reason for me to be whispering, except the obvious… That I was still thinking about kissing her, still deciding if I was going to do it. She nodded and it was almost my fucking breaking point.

I could push her hips to my hips, I could slide my hands underneath her shirt. She would definitely let me. I couldn’t even feel my heart, it was beating so fast.

“And you’re not allowed to spend less time with me. I’d miss you too much.” It was meant to be a joke, meant to lighten the mood and create that bit of space I really needed to break this fucking hold she had on me at the moment. But it didn’t work. When I said it, it sounded too much like flirting. And, fuck me, it sort of felt too much like flirting, too. 

“Relax, Gavin,” Elle patted my shoulder reassuringly. She leaned back, so I shifted and she stood. Thank fucking God. She ran her fingers through her hair and rolled her shoulders. “It’s not like I’m going to do the next jerk I go on a blind date with or something. I just mean maybe I should date.” 

She shrugged like it was no big deal, and maybe she was right with that. Maybe it wasn’t. 

But I still felt like something invisible had wrapped me up in a vice-grip and I couldn’t get free.

[the-frog-wizard-leep]

Holy shit I have 60 followers wtf how

[brokensticks]

The fact someone threatened to bomb every school in a neighboring district, the district office, and superintendent's home over a gay book "ruining the innocence of children" but didn't stop to think the threat of mass murder would is genuinely fucking infuriating and just goes to show conservatives don't give a flying fuck about children or their safety what-so-fucking-ever

[theywhoshantbenamed]

NY: why don’t you shut the fuck up before i slit your throat and watch the honor roll out?

MA: are you threatening me??

NY: no I’m hitting on you flash me a titty bitch

[h-didanart]

I’ve had this on my mind for a while now and I just wanna get it out now

Bloodless Passion ruin would actively get into a fist fight with QTIPO ruin.

Like he’s aware, he was bad to the twins and doesn’t feel any regret about it, but if he ever met that bastard and learned what he did, he is throwing hands.

Oooh

I like that. I like that a lot actually

Like, he’s evil and knows it and doesn’t care, but not in that level of wretchedness. I like that

Hold on, uhhhhh—

*Like ten minutes later*

(The text reads: “what the fucking shit is wrong with you you disgusting fucking ass why in the bloody hell would you even consider any of that you fucking piece of shit disgusting fu—)

Bloodless Passion!Ruin is hereby granted authorization to beat the absolute hell out of any variation of QTiPO Ruin he encounters. Weapons shall be provided

And an extra with the Bloodmoons

And uh

Extra Bloodmoon stuff cuz I just had to draw them together some more

And also, Therapy Circle stuff! Cuz Enceladus is there, and Bloody and Harvest are there…

Yeah

I like this a lot

[ask-emoripals]

Cris I have been putting 3000 volt batteries into the ocean. Is this enough to feed the electric eels?

🦈: Electric eel’s are FRESHWATER FISH YOU FUCKING IDIOT!!! I AM GOING TO FUCKING KILL YOUR GODDAMN-

[Nope, not writing that. This rant goes on for 5 minutes Btw]

🦈: WORTHLESS NATURE DESTROYING ASS! *Deep breath* Fucking die!

[shiroi---kumo]

tw; medical / generally uncomfortable situations / mental illness / work stuff under cut

Hi fam. We need to talk and my brain is labeling it as 'coming clean.'

So let's start with for those of you who do not know - I am clinically diagnosed with Bipolar 2 with Rapid Cycling - meaning I flip from depression to mania /hypomania at least once a month, sometimes more. Shit sucks.

So here's the dealio. Here's the newspaper update, shit ain't good right now. So before I get into this let me make one thing perfectly clear.

I'm not posting this to cry for help. I don't need people to fix my shit. I fix my shit. I'm giving you this so you have an update and an understanding of what is going on on the other side of the screen. This is a newspaper update. This is a "hey this is what is going on in my brain" update. I am not asking you to fix my problems NOR DO I WANT YOU TO.

Cool. We understand each other? Good.

Posting this kind of shit is hard for me so just - bear with me. I've been real quiet lately and not really online. I've put everything in the queue because then the blog stays rolling while I'm not here. I do like a massive update one day drop it all in the queue and then disappear again for days at a time.

Shit ain't good but it all came to a head yesterday at work.

I got unexpectedly drug into the HR office because my "hygiene was concerning". Guys, I'm a fucking custodian at a bar. Do you think I get dirty in a day? Oh I do. Apparently they don't understand the concept of a "dirty job". Anyway. I got cornered by HR and the head of facilities and told this was "coming from a place of love and concern for me" and being the info dumper triggered by trauma I am - I just started dropping shit on them and yelling.

I told them outright I've been struggling with suicidal ideation for the last week (longer but they didn't need to know that and it comes and goes. it's been super bad this last week.) But I just dropped that on work with no warning and my depression and a reminder that I am bipolar and they told me "you know you can come talk to us at any time." (HR and my Big Boss)

and It just triggered something in my brain and I snapped.

because my lead worker is not someone I can go to and has been bullying and threatening me for the last three years. So I went off about everything. How he told me I'm not allowed to talk to HR. How he won't stop ranting about how much he hates entertainment (department), how he used retaliation to punish me when I call in or do shit he doesn't like (like talk to HR). How I am literally too scared to apply for FMLA because I am scared of this man's repercussions.

I went the fuck OFF. I was cussing every other word. I held nothing back and even laughed in HR's face when she asked me if "I felt like I could be my true authentic self at work" to which she got me laughing obnoxiously and "FUCK NO."

And now they are all acting real squirrelly at work since I dropped the big bad S-word yesterday and they're watching me to make sure I'm okay and good and I told them I just lie to people and tell them I'm fine because my leader worker demands "positive attitudes at all times." to which I reminded them as someone who is bipolar asking this of me is literally impossible.

I explained I just want the ability to actually say at work 'it's no one's fault. My brain is just crashing so I'm gunna be quiet.' Because I am sick and fucking tired of getting told (by my lead worker) that "everyone says we're all grumpy" (as in all of housekeeping not just him)

I am sick to fucking death of it. So I went the fuck off and HR promised me there would be no backlash to this after they talk to him and I once again laughed in her fucking face.

"I know you don't believe me right now." "imma stop you right fuckin' there. No offense, but I'm scraping the bottom of the fuckin' barrel with my depression right now, so no I don't believe you and I don't believe fuckin' shit right now to be completely fucking honest."

So there's that.

My brain has been really upset about literally everything lately. I've felt on this weird island by myself and struggling with a lot of personal shit, but it's mine to fix. It's mine to set with. I just need a little time to sort my shit out.

The depression is bad. I'm here so much because I'm trauma blocking a lot of shit. Productive doesn't equal wellness. It equals me trying to cope in a way that makes it so I don't have to think about anything else. The "too busy to think" phenomenon. So yes my mind has gone suicidal in recent days. I won't lie to you but after getting fucking cornered at work about it, my brain is doing the "alright enough of that. Put the fucking mask back on and hide your shit better" game.

Guys I'm sick of hiding.

I write to cope. It's how I process. Art is my soul and it's how I function. I just want you to understand why you see so much shit coming out of me. It's not magic. It's overwork. I don't do anything else. Work just shoved me off a cliff yesterday and I got fed the "this is a safe space" line like six times and "we're doing this because we love you and care about you" and I realized my brain only translating it as anger wasn't where my emotions SHOULD be.

My crayons fell out of the box and the colors are all out of order. So if shit is slow I'm not ignoring you or it might be in the queue. If shit is lightning fast, well I'm probably coping with something.

Just - that's where I'm at right now.

[sleepy-royal]

Ugh! I fucking HATE people decide that, instead of just making individual, easy to find, ONE-SHOTS, they decide to cram it all into one fucking work and make it so fucking complicated. Why the fuck do people think that's a good idea?

"Let's just put a billion and one stories that don't go together into one work where each CHAPTER will need ITS OWN SET OF TAGS instead of making them their own fic! That's an amazing idea!" /s –_–

Fuck! I want to read shit without having to score through several fucking collection fics that have a billion fandoms and a billion tags which DON'T GO TOGETHER!!!

This goes for solo fandom fics too. Just make a series, for fucks sake!

Unless it goes together, DON'T MAKE A FIC WHERE EACH CHAPTER IS IT'S OWN FANFIC THAT NEEDS ITS OWN TAGS!

[alchemic-elric]

@drinkitfrommymouthsuou || [ X ]

⋆˚☽𖤓｡⋆ His Brother had practically begged him to stay in bed today but that bastard Mustang called him anyway and he hadn't thrown up yet so off he went to Central Command to get his ears screamed off for God knew what. Yanno what, no - for Fuck knows what. Fuck that prick and fuck this weather.

The rain is pouring down in torrents and there is little that either Elric can do to avoid it. Red fabric is well since soaked through, right along with long blond strands sticking to a pale face as the pair of them make their way through Central's streets so they can find some kind of sanctuary from this fucking storm. His head is spinning and his stomach feels like it's in ocean waves - not that he's ever seen the ocean being in this piece-a-shit land locked country.

Fuck he'd be lucky if he saw a lake larger than the one that kept Yock Island at its center.

His head is jerking to the side however at the sound of hurried footsteps and yelling. The sound of puddles splashing as shoes strike against the ground with urgency and the pair of teenagers can only watch for a moment as the scene unfurls before them.

"Brother - " Come a metallic echo as if to bring the elder's attention the scene with a drawn out voice but the smaller of the pair is already running.

They wouldn't get away. He didn't know what was going on but that poor shmuck looked like he was already in the water over his head and what kind of man would he be if Amestris' very own Hero of the People just stood by and watched?

'sides Mustang pissed him off and if these idiots took a few bruises so he could relieve this bad mood then so be it. Play stupid games, win stupid prizes and these clowns looked like they were about to graduate from Central Dunce Academy.

The sound of clanking armor soon follows after the blond as the pair of the them race through the streets until they find themselves at the end of a back alley and there is a kid on the ground.

Dumb fucker obviously didn't know where he was running if he lead them right to a dead end. Gold eyes take a moment to scan over the scene before he sounds.

"Oi, dipshit! Pickin' kids half yer fuckin' age ain't a good look, jackass!"

The words fall out of him like venom as his gaze narrows down to become that of molten gold. He's burning red hot as his stance firms while the men in question turn to face him.

There is a smirk on one face and then another as they look him over. A teenager and a suit of armor standing behind him - the boy no taller than five foot two with arms at his sides and shoulders that hardly look like he's ready for a fight.

"Get outta 'ere squirt." The first man sounds, only earning a low growl in return from the boy in red. "You ain't got no fuckin' business here. So why don'tcha just scram before ya end up like pretty boy here."

Oh that's just wonderful. Ha ha as if he hasn't heard that before and while he might be inclined to hold his anger a bit better on most days - today was not that day. No today he was anger. Today he was in pain. Today his head was screaming and the ports on his body felt like they were on fire. No, today Mustang crossed a fuckin' line and he was furious at that prick for being forced to set through an hour long meeting that felt like precious time wasted from his life he'll never get back.

No, today he was pissed.

And now this piece'a'shit jackass has just become the next target on Edward Elric's anger management course.

Hands come together without warning as blue lights spark and fly through the air; the teen's right hand placed against the alleyway wall to summon forth a giant fist born of the bricks of the building next to the other teen's assailants sending two of them crashing into the opposite wall and tumbling to the ground.

"Fuck!" One of the remaining men hisses. "Little Fucker's an alchemist. Oh so you think you're tough shit then, huh?"

The beaten teen is dropped to the ground as the man with the knife charges only to for the smaller boy to smoothly dodge out of the way and drill his right fist directly into his attacker's jaw sending both teeth and blood scattering to the ground. The man can only scream in pain as he drops, hand coming up to cover his bleeding mouth as he struggles to stand and make a hurried exit from the scene. Two men down, the others have fled - finally the pair of brothers could make their way to the blond laying on the ground.

"It looks like he passed out, Ed." The younger of the pair comments with a metallic twag echoing in an almost hollow sounding voice.

Golden eyes, still narrowed, are looking down at the body on the ground with a deep frown stitched into his brows.

"No shit, Al. What gave ya yer first fuckin' clue? Fuck. We c'n't jus' leav'im 'ere though. Who knows how long this stupid sonnavabitch is gunna b' out fer? We probably should git'im outta the rain."

"So you wanna take him with us?"

"What fuckin' choice do we have? That 'er leave'im 'ere ta rot. Oh yeah 'coz the M.P.s 're gunna do their fuckin' jobs first once. They'd probably arrest the poor fucker fer layin' in the damn street."

"So I take it you wanna go back to the hotel." "Ah yes 'coz we have somewhere else ta fuckin' go. A'course I do steel fer brains, use yer damn head." The blond snarls sarcastically as he rolls his eyes hard as if to emphasize his point.

"You don't gotta be such a jerk, Ed. I know the storm is kickin' your ass but don't take it out on me." The armored comments with a half snap while he works to gather the collapsed teenager from the street.

There is a groan in reply and a sorry but the rest of the walk back to the hotel is largely quiet. Small hands working to get the three of them inside so Alphonse can lay the sleeping body in his arms down on the couch in the main room of the suite they're occupying.

Gold eyes are on him again.

"So now what?" Comes the echoing twang of the younger once more.

"I don't fuckin' know." The elder replies with arms crossed uneasily over his chest. "I feel like shit Al. You know I hate storms. I guess we jus' wait fer the poor fucker ta wake up."

[sampoststuff]

So I’m getting off my antidepressants

[dragon-hoard]

goddamn fucking polyester motherfucker fucking in every goddamn fucking thing cannot find ONE FUCKING THING WITHOUT POLYESYTER

[tearsoftime0086]

crack theory: there's a positive correlation between leon's hair color intensity and the amount of alcohol he consumes

[somewhat-stressed]

Smilers am I right?

I did this in my sketchbook originally and drew over it in ibis paint x like I so often do. idk been thinking about the backrooms so I read some more of the wiki. Did you know the snackrooms have fallen? There was a big rewrite and a lot of safe places got murdered. Anyway I think apples would have a ton of trouble with level 37 (the poolrooms) bc he cant swim and is kinda scared of it, I don't know if the conscious fear would carry over but I think that when it goes into the water and is about chest deep the panic sets in. (honestly I'm just projecting, but they were originally just me so I think it's fair)

I think I might change it's speech to have like l33tspeak but I'm not sure, I don't want to make the text too hard to read, but I want to indicate that he has a weird voice, maybe i could make the text bubble look different, maybe static or glitches, idk

time was 5 hours 43 minutes and a disproportionate amount of it was spent trying to get the shading on the teeth of the smiler right even though you can hardly see it in the end product :')

[kyuala]

sometimes im like.. super anxious posting stuff abt my faith bc of the way i live but at the same time... if u cant accept that part of me u cant accept me period

[sir-yaps-alot]

I FUCKING HATE MAKING KANDI SHIT

trying to make anything other then a stupid mother fucking single ass piece of ugly shit is fucking impossible

nobody can give a good fucking tutorial that actually works they just cut away and don't explain

fucking 12 year old motherfuckers on these fucking tutorials

i can't even making a fucking star

i wasted so much strong for it to not even work I'm so pissed off im gonna fucking shoot somebody

and this stupid triple helix bracelet doesn't even stay I fucking hate this I did exactly what the video said and it came undone what the fuck

I actually even try again CAUSE I WASTED ALL MY FUCKING STRING IM SO PISSED OFF AND UPSET

BUT I GUESS I FINALLY LEARNED HOW TO TIE KNOTS SO THAT GOOD

[ethereal-nightingale]

I made such a fucking mistake what the fuck I hate my life. I'm such a shitty person holy fuck. I don't even know what to do. fucking crying at 1am this is bullshit