phantom-brainrot

[phantom-brainrot]

my mom has been bodyshaming me since I was in elementary and now that im watching my calorie intake, she's now shaming me for being too vain

also same with makeup, she always comment how beautiful my classmates were and that they know how to style themselves, now that I'm getting into makeup, she's always shouting at me and sayin' that I wont have much time to makeup in college and that I should now stop

i can't ever win with this woman

[phantom-brainrot]

Keeping up with my ''Zayne is just an adult Kyoya'' agenda

[phantom-brainrot]

Im on my fucking wits end

Im trying to write a fluff story but my mind always drift to when I was harassed by a fucking friend

This shit is very haunting i cant take it anymore

[phantom-brainrot]

Baks, parang ayoko na

[phantom-brainrot]

read the first half and Louis de Pointe du Lac entered my mind, ngl

A vampire, turned against their will, despises the idea of feeding on humans, and so makes a hard living out of hunting game for blood instead. After decades of this, while hunting for deer, they come across a pair of human vampire hunters who've never met one like them before.

[phantom-brainrot]

[phantom-brainrot]

What Strength Really Means 💪

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️

Hey everyone, my name is Abdelmajed. I don’t usually talk much about myself, but today, I want to share a little piece of my story.

I was born and raised in Gaza, a place that has always been my home 🏡. I grew up surrounded by my family, my friends, and the streets that I knew like the back of my hand. Life wasn’t always easy, but we had love, laughter, and dreams. I used to think that no matter what happened, home would always be here. But life has a way of changing things in ways we never expect.

Over the past months, everything I once knew has disappeared. The streets that were once filled with children playing are now silent. The houses that held so many memories are now just rubble. And the people I loved—some of them are gone forever. 💔

✅️ Vetted by @gazavetters {537} ✅️

[phantom-brainrot]

This is the first time i gagged at a hc 😭😭😭😭

"biiig stretch," - caleb while he's splitting you open on his cock

[phantom-brainrot]

just wrote 4.3k zayne au. i am so in deep. don't send help, i'm right where I want to be ╰(*°▽°*)╯

[phantom-brainrot]

I know we all know Sylus wants us/MC (whatever) to spend his money, but I’m thinking Zayne might also want that too.

Zayne wouldn’t be as vocal or blatantly obvious about it, but I feel like he would get a kick out of paying for all your groceries, or buying refills of all your skincare. He strikes me as the type that wants to take care of you so badly, he just can’t bring himself to say that outright and will make excuses to accompany you running errands so he can pay for everything.

Groceries? He’s your doctor, it’s his duty to make sure you’re feeding and fueling your body appropriately.

Skincare? He’s your doctor, your skin is your largest living organ, he want to makes sure you’re taking care of that too.

That huge pillow system you glanced at once? He’s your doctor and getting good quality sleep is extremely important for your health.

That huge plush beanbag chair you wanted for the sunny spot in your apartment? Double whammy, you need sunlight for your mental and physical health, as your doctor it’s only right he makes sure you have it.

He just wants to make sure you’re healthy, and happy too. Don’t let anyone dare say he doesn’t go above and beyond for his patients.

(If he damn near begs on his knees, in a drunken stupor, for you to please, please, please keep the extra credit card he ordered for you as an authorized user, because he wants you to spend his money to take care of you, well, that’s a story for a different day)

[phantom-brainrot]

I know we all know Sylus wants us/MC (whatever) to spend his money, but I’m thinking Zayne might also want that too.

Zayne wouldn’t be as vocal or blatantly obvious about it, but I feel like he would get a kick out of paying for all your groceries, or buying refills of all your skincare. He strikes me as the type that wants to take care of you so badly, he just can’t bring himself to say that outright and will make excuses to accompany you running errands so he can pay for everything.

Groceries? He’s your doctor, it’s his duty to make sure you’re feeding and fueling your body appropriately.

Skincare? He’s your doctor, your skin is your largest living organ, he want to makes sure you’re taking care of that too.

That huge pillow system you glanced at once? He’s your doctor and getting good quality sleep is extremely important for your health.

That huge plush beanbag chair you wanted for the sunny spot in your apartment? Double whammy, you need sunlight for your mental and physical health, as your doctor it’s only right he makes sure you have it.

He just wants to make sure you’re healthy, and happy too. Don’t let anyone dare say he doesn’t go above and beyond for his patients.

(If he damn near begs on his knees, in a drunken stupor, for you to please, please, please keep the extra credit card he ordered for you as an authorized user, because he wants you to spend his money to take care of you, well, that’s a story for a different day)

[phantom-brainrot]

Zayne pointing at Xavier

"What brings you in today?" the doctor asks. "Well, I've been hallucinating this damn alien has been stalking me," you reply. "That alien?" the doctor asks, pointing to the alien standing next to you.

[phantom-brainrot]

WBAJAGAJJAKAS SO GONNA WRITE THIS

In a last ditch attempt to save your people, you offer your life to an ancient god of war and blood. Unfortunately, your translation of the ancient text was a bit off. You're married now.

[phantom-brainrot]

This lion is me, me is lion

this is canon

[phantom-brainrot]

reblog to give your headache to elon musk instead

[phantom-brainrot]

one thing ab louis de pointe du lac is he will be taking the house in the divorce.

[phantom-brainrot]

Guys I had a new idea.

Soulmate au.

ding ding ding

—•

You stared at the name scrawled in red across your forearm.

Zayne.

So small. So cruel. So final.

Your breath caught in your throat, a trembling whisper slipping past your lips.

“Why is it his?”

The question barely made a sound, yet it rang loud in the silence of your apartment, echoing off the sterile white walls and the clinical smell of hospital-grade soap still lingering on your skin.

You pressed your palm over the name like you could smudge it away. But red ink never fades. It brands.

It condemns.

A red soulmate mark.

You had seen the pamphlets before—those rare anomalies that happen once in a few hundred thousand people. The ones born defective, the ones whose soulmates were already claimed by someone else.

Fated to ache. Fated to long. Fated to never be loved back.

You always thought it was tragic in a distant, abstract sort of way.

Until now.

Until it was his name.

Until it was Zayne.

Your Zayne.

Your friend. Your colleague.

The man who offered you coffee the day you transferred, when everyone else couldn’t be bothered to remember your name.

The one who knew when your hands shook after a 12-hour surgery and would silently leave your favorite chocolate mousse in the breakroom fridge.

The one who walked you home after night shifts, even though his apartment was one floor above yours.

The one you tried not to love.

You tried.

God, you tried.

Because his mark had already appeared months ago—in black. Like it was supposed to. Permanent. True. Undeniable.

You remembered how he told you.

How he looked almost dazed, fingers brushing over his skin like he couldn’t believe he was lucky enough to find her. You had smiled. You had said you were happy for him.

You had even helped him pick out a gift for their anniversary.

And maybe you were happy.

A small, pure part of you had been.

But the rest of you was bleeding.

You didn’t expect this.

You didn’t expect the universe to be so cruel.

Because months later, your body chose him.

As if fate wanted to mock you.

As if it wanted you to watch him belong to someone else, forever just one floor above you, one breath out of reach.

Red meant doomed.

Red meant defect.

Red meant you would love someone who was never yours to begin with.

Your fingers trembled as you traced over the ink again. You imagined what it would feel like to show him.

To watch his face crumble, or worse—pity you. To be told, gently and with unbearable softness, that he loved someone else.

That his heart already belonged to the woman whose name was etched into his skin in perfect, black permanence.

You would never be that name.

You would never be enough.

So you rolled down your sleeve and turned away from the mirror.

The name still burned beneath the fabric.

And in the quiet of your room, you allowed yourself to break—silently, like you always did. Because even the stars knew.

You were never meant to be loved.

Only to love.