#wordx

[wholesomequotess]

wordx (tumblr)

[bloodtoyou]

Like a pigeon in wiring

The more I hesitate 

The quickly I'm dying

[caplanbuckybarnes]

It makes me so sick that tumblr has been infiltrated by so many bots and fake ass accounts.

[benehvolent]

nsnsnns

[halflifesk666]

𝐈 𝐟𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐢𝐧 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞 𝐰𝐢𝐭𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐨𝐮𝐥 𝐛𝐞𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞 𝐈 𝐜𝐨𝐮𝐥𝐝 𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐧 𝐭𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡 𝐲𝐨𝐮𝐫 𝐬𝐤𝐢𝐧. 𝐈𝐟 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬𝐧'𝐭 𝐭𝐫𝐮𝐞 𝐥𝐨𝐯𝐞, 𝐭𝐡𝐞𝐧 𝐩𝐥𝐞𝐚𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐞𝐥𝐥 𝐦𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐚𝐭 𝐢𝐬.

credits: @wordx

[heavymetalzen]

chicken wraps and wordx

cara ay pabebe.

sabi ng mga citizen ng barangay carot, anda, pangasinan.

vcis ay jrnl app nga.

gusto nila ng carnet app.

gusto ko ng wraps.

ang aking dirty secret ito: kinikilg ako sa mga santo.

naiiyak sila sa sarili nila: freaks and geeks pala yung vcis.

[braincellconfusion]

record 1

'i' (?) have never actually confirmed if i was a system or not (i cant exactly bring it up w the therapist this late at night) so ive went digging to see any useful info and found a trick of just. writing a note for them

so i did, i made a little digital notebook becuz i dont have paper and wrote in it at abt 5am

abt 20 min later i think ive gotten my first response? my body felt very distant and the body was washed over with an intense urge to write a reply from sofple, then i felt normal but a little hazy for a bit. it felt like i could recognize them there and i was talking to them through a screen

then it happened again but much quicker, and it was a response from posd

i feel faint zoning out/dissociation again but nothing has overwhelmed me, or given the body an urge to reply so idk

heres what the page looks like. im beginning to question if mimi on the blog was someone else, or anyone at all?

im not sure what to think of it still, and still feel a ton of denial, the responses seemed too quick, ill sleep on it

[wordx]

There will be a lot of posts soon from people sharing how much they achieved in 2024. But in case someone needs to hear this, it's okay if the only thing you did this year was just get through it.... It's ok.

[tuttifuckinfruttifriday]

Sweet, sweet MJ, part 2

-a deal, and a new friendship, kinda

part 1

Warnings: blood/mention of corpse and gore, angst, ooc Candyman, some comfort at the end and fluff, one curse wordx)

note: last part since I don’t want to make another part bc I’m super lazy c’: It might be a bit shitty too, I'm kinda having a writer's block

---

reminder:

“Here we meet, once again.” After trying and failing to take some desesperate deep breaths, she fell back and felt his arms around her, her muscles loosening, as she lost consciousness, hearing a slight chuckle escaping him and making what’s left of his chest rumble, the two oblivious to the increasing footsteps in the other room as the air thickened for the both of them.

-

As Archie got home, still scared of what he saw, he immediatly went to search for his dad or mom, wanting to ask them about the... Candyman, was it? It was probably just a story, but the uneasiness he felt in the bathroom really made him anxious, so he didn’t want to take any chances.

He opened the door and peeked in the living room and saw his little sister playing by the couch, so his parents are probably nearby, he thought as he slowly went to search for them.

He didn't have to search far, though, because not even a minute later, his dad came in. ''Dad! '' Archie turned around and went towards him, giving him a hug and surprising the older clown. Pennywise, still not familiar with this kind of affection, gave his son's head some small pats and looked down at him with an awkward smile. His painted lips turned into a real one as he bent down before him when he let go. ''Heya, kiddo. You okay? '' Archie looked to the side and hesitated a bit, thinking about if it's a good idea asking his dad that question. He'd probably find it childish, he told himself before he finally decided to ask him. ''I've got a question.. It might sound childish, though..'' ''Shoot. '' The grown man's/creature's curious face eased him a bit. Archie hesitated and took a deep breath. ''Is... Is The Candyman real?'' He asked with an anxious tone to his voice as he looked at his dad, who seemed spaced out for a small moment, before the latter replied.

''Yep.'' He popped the 'p' nonchalantly.

Oh. okay.....

Well, let's say the small clown didn't think his dad would say it like that.

''He-he's real??'' ''Totally.'' ''Oh...'' Archie stared at him with wide eyes. ''...Why'd you wanna know?'' His dad asked as he tilted his head with a cocked eyebrow.

*

As soon as Jason entered the bathroom, having heard a small thump, he would have yelled if he could. Immense panic invaded his senses as he looked around for his wife, the latter nowhere to be found when he just saw her going to the bathroom. The panicked husband was sadly oblivious to the small but deep scratches beside the mirror in the bathroom as he went out and immediately went into his daughter's bedroom. He almost hesitated to wake her up, but he needed to make sure she was okay, and he wanted to know if she knew where MJ was and he was panicking for nothing.

''D-dad? '' Not wanting to attack her eyes with the harsh light of her room, he opened the small lamp beside her bed. As soon as she was sitting up, looking at her dad sleepily but anxiously, he took the notepad on small desk and asked her where her mom is. The red haired girl frowned and tilted her head at him, oblivious to his anxious expression on his face. ''I-I don't know.. She tucked me in and I fell asleep. '' Malon mumbled as her father's thoughts began to race faster. He got up from his leaned position and put a finger up, a sign that told Malon to stay there as he tucked her back in, walking rapidly towards the doorway and out of her room. He continued his way to the outside, making sure the traps outside the door were activated before he went in search of his beloved wife, looking to the forest ground for any clues.

Little did he know that inside, little Malon couldn't sleep anymore, now worried about her mother. Her mind was filled with anxious thoughts and.. and thoughts about the Candyman thing. It was childish, she knew, but she just couldn't help that she felt that maybe it was true.

*

''A-alright... I'm sorry, okay.. I don't know what I did, but it was Rachel who called you.. I didn't do anything...'' The scared woman mumbled as she almost cowered in the corner, looking at the towering figure before her. You're probably asking yourself why he took her, right? Well, here's the story:

Teen MJ and her friend, Rachel, were having a sleepover at the latter's house, and with the latter's other friends.

I'm precising that it's Rachel's friends, because they didn't even spare a glance at MJ, and they sure didn't look like they wanted to be her 'friends' anytime soon. They were Lily and Lesley, brunette twins who radiated 'daddy's girls' vibes. They were almost never kind to anyone, except Rachel. So it didn't surprise MJ that she invited them. The three were perfects, Rachel with her golden hair and brand clothes with the twins having matching outfits, clothes that were probably two pay checks MJ's parents had. She honestly had no clues why she even hung out with them, but the blonde was still nice to her, so she didn't mind. As the four were in a circle on the carpeted floor of Rachel's bedroom, snacks around them, Rachel seemed to have a bright idea and got out; ''Who wants to invoke and evil spirit? '' (nvm not a good idea-) The twins beside her immediately looked scared as MJ's mood perked up, her curious eyes going to her friend. ''With what?.. A Ouija board? I don't think your parents would let you have that...'' ''It's like Bloody Mary, it's from a mirror'' She replied with a roll of her eyes. It took some time as the twins were hesitant, but they joined as soon as MJ asked what's the 'game's name. ''It's The Candyman-'' She started as she explained the 'ritual' (from her words). Evidently, the girls really didn't want to do it, especially MJ.

With the pressure Rachel was putting on her friends though, the twins decided to do it, but MJ stayed out. She was deeply scared of bees, and didn't want to mess with a vengeful spirit, even if it was probably fake. The air seemed to thicken as she watched them going to the bathroom, seeing them from her spot in the room since the bathroom is facing the bedroom. She watched as they closed the light and giggled a tiny bit, whispering before they began chanting his name. MJ scoffed and got up when they finished, rolling her eyes as they laughed. Before they had the chance to get out of the bathroom, the door slammed in their faces.

MJ stayed still, the room seeming now much colder than it was as her eyes widened. ''Guys... It's not funny. -'' ''MJ! Why'd you close the door?? '' ''I didn't do anything! '' ''Well help us, please! We're locked!! '' The girls screamed in the bathroom as she went to the door and desperately tried the handle, it obliviously not working. Her breathing picked up as she started to panic a bit, hearing the girls still screaming at her to open the door, poor MJ oblivious to what's behind the door, so she still thought a bit that they were still messing with her. The screams intensified and that's when she really went on full panic mode, adrenaline flowing through her veins as she heard who she thought is Lily, let out a bloodcurdling scream. Rachel's parents weren't there, so she did the only thing she thought of; She slammed her body into the door multiple times, hearing some other screams before it suddenly got all quiet. Before she could throw her shoulder again, she heard a click and the door opened by itself, making the young woman stop in her swing. ''Rachel.... Girls, t.. This isn't funny...'' The hair on her arms rose up and before she knew it, she was looking at three corpses.

Her eyes were still wide open as the adrenaline slowly diminished. Blood made her socks wet as she observed the mutilated bodies of the teenagers she was with and got a foot inside the large bathroom, petrified. It seemed like they were mauled by something sharp, Lesley's inside hanging out as she was positioned sitting down, leaned against the bath, dead eyes looking into the distance. Her sister was face against the ground, her head turned to the side as blood still fell from her mouth. When MJ's knees gave out, an agonizing cry left her lips.. And then she saw Rachel, the girl clutching at her throat as gurgles left her half open mouth. Her eyes were as wide as MJ's, tears sliding down her cheeks as she stared at the barely opened door. A tall coat wearing figure was standing before her, their back turned as they were bent a bit to reach the foolish dying teen. You could say that it was probably a male from how they were standing, and the fact that they were much taller than her. He had black hair, the latter complementing his skin and fluffy coat. You could see some checked pants at the bottom of his long coat, and shiny shoes that didn't seem to have any blood or anything on them. If he wasn't killing her friend, she could have probably said that he had style, an eye for putting an outfit together. The girl couldn't do anything as she heard him letting out a grunt when he impaled Rachel with what she could now see as a hook in where's supposed to be his hand... The fucking Candyman.

Realization took her as she watched him get up, a deep sigh leaving him before he turned around and looked at her, still in her kneeling position as tears finally fell down her cheeks, a whimper escaping her quivering lips. The Candyman got closer, now more towering over MJ as he tilted his head a bit, his hook gently going to her chin and pushing her head up a bit, their eyes now locked. It was as if she was in a trance as his dark but seemingly soft eyes locked with blue ones. Her body seemed to be floating on a cloud as bees buzzed around in the background. ''I'm coming back for you, sweet, sweet MJ..'' Her body felt even lighter at that promise, as her head nodded without her consent, and her crying reduced as her muscles relaxed. '' 'Till then... Spread my name.''

-

After he disappeared in a cloud of smoke, MJ called the cops and then got to her house with them, her parents immediately going to her side and engulfing her in their arms. She couldn't answer any questions and went to her room, strait away going to her room and to her laptop. She pushed her trauma aside and googled his name, finding a wiki page about him. Reading more, she found out his real name is Daniel Robitaille and how he died. Even though she saw his gruesome art not even 20 minutes earlier, she didn't think he deserved it, and felt really bad about what happened to him, how they chased him because of his skin color and status in the society, pried him from his love, and tortured him like that. Sorrow and pain from reading and relieving the earlier moments seeped through her bones as she leaned back against her chair, her hands sliding down her face as a big flash of tiredness took over her. Before she knew it, she was sliding down and her eyes were closed, her breaths slowing as her head leaned against the back of her chair and she fell asleep, into a new nightmare, remembering the promise the killer made her.

*

The entity seemed to be thinking as he rubbed the bridge of his nose and took a deep breath, his dark piercing eyes going to MJ as his shoulders slacked a bit, remembering when he told the scared woman before him. There was a pregnant pause as MJ's eyes watered, knowing full well her fate -

'' I may make you a deal, MJ...'' He said, his echoing honeyed voice making the woman look at his face in surprise.

--

With his face in his hands, Jason sat at the table, his brows furrowed in despair, and on the verge of crying. He had searched everywhere, and was certain he probably searched the full forest, but didn't see MJ anywhere. He had sent Malon to play with Archie since he didn't want her worrying too, but he still couldn't help but to feel alone. The killer's blood lust was going up as he didn't have his anchor to keep him down, and he really didn't like that. He desperately wished for her to be there-His head snapped up when he heard familiar footsteps coming towards the kitchen. The chair almost flew backward as he got up as fast as he could, going towards the living room and freezing in place as he saw his wife looking at him with curiosity. He pinched his arm, thinking he was hallucinating, until he heard her sweet voice greet him by his favorite nickname. ''Hi, honey...'' He had to maintain himself from running and crushing her, but he still hugged her tightly, feeling her hugging him back, her face crushed against his chest. Jason's chest rumbled with a silent laugh as disbelieve filled him, his chin going to rest gently on her shoulder.

Later on, MJ baked some sweets and put them on the counter, remembering the deal he made her. Her feet carried her to the bathroom and she called his name five times, making sure that Jason and Malon weren't near. When she got back, what she baked was gone, and a small smile came onto her face. If she could protect herself and her family like that, then she'd do it for the rest of her life.

Let the deal begin.

[intuitivecherry]

dissatisfaction was always something i struggled with.

and with that in mind i made conscious choices of how i would act, how i would give, how i would fight and how i would love. and because i had that in mind i never thought i would look down on what i've built of myself yet i do. and the dissatisfaction still resides in me, hiding in a crevice, a corner where i can't quite reach it and i'm left wondering where it is, crossing my fikngers praying to god that it has gone, that i fought it off. but the more work i put in the heavier i become and it becomes impossible to carry the weight on my own. i used the word unbearable to describe my vulnerabilities to my partner and he shook nhis head. i thought that once it came to it i would be ready and i would be satkisfied. but dissatisfaction was always something i struggled with. i thought i had made myself a certain way, that i had fought every single trace of that image of love that my parents tore to shreds in front of me and left in me. i thought i had made myself a cerftain way yet here i am grieving the fact that i cannot possibly be any otherf way other than what i fear. and it doesnt help that i exploit my grievance and torture myself for a few wordxs in a paragraph that means nothing to absolutedly no one but me. i am aware of how dwelling in your sorrow makes it easier to stay in it but no one ever showed me how to cope and learnking it for myself has been a struggle on its own. lorde said everybody wants the best for you but you got to want it for yourself and god i feel it in my bones that i wantg it and im so close to gettikng it but at the same time it feels so unattainable. how can i know if i'll ever be able to have what i want instead of what ive always been given? my heart aches and holding on feels like fistfuls of razors breaking my skin b ut god i wanna hold on. let me hold on

[sacrilegious-skeletal-scribe]

Hello, heretics, long time no documentation of just how much a mess I am left to my own devices

Ever taking a self-guiding crash course in standard fiction manuscript format for submission purposes six hours before the submission window opens? No? I don’t blame you, it was an awful time! It’s not even that unintuitive, the problem is that formatting is designed for .wordx files, a software I don’t, and can’t use. Because window’s operating systems aren’t free.

And also because I think Word is ugly and I find it visually distracting to use, but that’s not important

Cutting the shins off this chase, I decided to submit a few pieces of short fiction i've written within the last two years or so to an e`zine this past week. I decided to do so, a month tops before the submission window opened, and properly got it read by eyes that aren't mine a week, again, max, before the window opened.

I'd never submitted to that publication for fiction before, and they had a submission cap of 1000 stories. That's a wide margin, but I didn't trust it for a second. And I was right. Because it's been three days since this debacle of my own design played out, and the submission have already been closed. Three days.

Now you might be thinking, a week is plenty of time to write a cover letter (insulting easy), and get a handle on standard manuscript formatting, which the zine requested. And you're probably right. And I don't have the battery to commit to this bit, so condensing a touch, I spent the six hours up to the opening of the window beating the rest of the dust out of the stories I choose, up to and included adding bits of story in to clear up a point my readers weren't quite getting.

Rounding stories up armed with concrit is not bad practice, but I can't imagine it's advisable when it's 1 am my time, I've been at this for two hours already, and submissions open in four hours.

5 am was not an actual time posted to their website, but it was the time scale I got to work with. Which was an experience on seven hours of ever distant sleep.

But not to worry, seasonal apostates, this tale has a happy ending! I got both pieces polished and submitted within a half hour of submissions opening! Was I awake until 5 am with no caffeine running a spell/grammar checking software over the I had been picking with and another that had been revised but I decided to submit on whim? Did I then have to fight them into manuscript standard that I just checked upon realization that I didn't actually finish one of them correctly? Maybe!

Did my eyes start to bleed at the sight of overwritten passages I just sort of leave to fester on completed pieces, a defensive ivy that bites both in life and death? Do I claw out metaphors with reckless abandon at unnecessary times? Fuck you!

But gee golly willikers if left unsupervised I write like I’m getting paid by the syllable.

And it was even a little bit on purpose, for one of them. Epistolary fiction my beloved.

[highendphasers]

i see you lying next tot me. with wordxs i thought id never speak. awake. and unafraid. asleep. or dead.

[braincellconfusion]

large ammounts of panic of considering telling s.o abt potential system

[xartvoidx]

xONE WORDx Tee Design

[wordx]