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ooc;;  // What Time Is It? It’s Hiatus Time!

Guess who’s stressed?! It me!!

Yeah, so I keep having ugly crying meltdowns and they’re getting more frequent, because I have a Lot To Do for someone who is unemployed thanks to severe mental health issues, and I need to take something off my list to even begin to approach other things without imploding and putting myself in the hospital (that’s a joke, ha ha, continuous intense stress can only mean good things for your health. It’s character building!)

So for now, I’m just gonna take a break from tumblr, and hope that everyone still wants to write the things with me that I’m still super into, but have no time for right now, when I return. Because the constant thought in my head of “I need to reply to these things otherwise people will stop writing with me”, and the  G U I L T  of not putting out replies in a timely manner, despite this not being an Actual Job with Actual Time Limits, and nobody Actually Cares how long I take, is just shovelling twelve tons of stress dirt on top of the Mt. Stressmore that my life has become. Plus, for the writing partners that aren’t my actual friends, it’s like “oh no, I’m wasting their time, and they’re gonna hate me, and never wanna write with me again”. Which I’m sure is a really healthy mindset to have when pursuing a Fun Hobby in search of Having Fun for Fun’s Sake [insert thinking emoji here].

So I’m going to just tell myself that I don’t need to write anymore for the foreseeable future, which will strike off the many many many drafts I currently have, for two whole blogs, and hopefully that will give me the breathing room to do other things. Like art commissions, and adoptable work, and personal projects I hope will eventually make me a ton of money so I can move out of my mother’s house and pursue a home where I’m not confined to the Two Person apartment Kit and I have transformed this Single Bedroom For One into. 

And I didn’t mean for this post to turn into one of those fast-talking comedy acts sprinkled with the kind of depressing humour only a person who writes jokes for a living can come up with, but that’s kind of what my internal narrator has turned into, and it’s spilling out onto my keyboard like the bottle my emotions are kept in whenever a minor inconvenience decides it wants to ruin my life -pause for laugh-.

Anyway, tl;dr, I’m going on Break for the time being and I’ll update you whenever I have cleared enough off my plate to actually enjoy being here again, instead of my drafts folder threatening to blow the top off Mt. Stressmore (which I forgot to mention is actually a volcano, just completely filled to the brim with bullshit instead of lava).

So see you when I see you, and I hope you don’t miss me too much. 

Haha, jesting. You probably won’t even know I’m gone considering my recent activity. 

See ya o/

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ooc;; // Made the gang on this thing instead of going to bed.

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ooc;; // So I started watching B/rookyln 99 with Kit, and lemme tell you, that Jake guy has big Nick energy:

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uranodioning‌

“are you a top or a bottom?” i’m a threat

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storiestotell‌:

Cian smiled, a toothier smile than should have been possible. They drummed their fingers on the counter, still on their tip-toes. 

“I was just talking about what you are,” they said. Their nose wrinkled as if they were smelling something rotten. The man behind the counter certainly smelled differently, not like any person they had ever met before. Cian glanced around the store. 

“I don’t have parents. You can’t tell, can you? You think I’m a child but I’m older than you.”

That was a safe bet unless the other had been around since the beginning of time as well.

  Pale eyes narrowed almost to slits at the toothy smile. Very deliberately, Videl slid his phone under the counter, and withdrew a pocketknife from his jeans, safe in the knowledge that Cian couldn’t possibly see what his hands were doing.

  Nobody else was here. If he slit this dude’s throat and shoved them in the trunk of his car, nobody would know about it. He could take them someplace and dump the body without alerting a soul. Easy peasy.

  Leaning forward, he offered them a slightly sardonic smile.

  “What are you, then?” he asked, quietly unfolding the blade under the counter. “How old are you?”

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me, chain smoking cigarettes: self care is so important u know

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We must stop Kyle

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does anyone else start to get violently self-destructive when they’re bored? like “oh i wonder how much vodka i can chug in one go without stopping” or “i wonder how many days in a row i can last without sleeping and eating” 

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I swing both ways ;)

Violently. With a bat. Come get some motherfuckers.

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❌ female

❌ male

✔️ Entity

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musesthroughtheages‌:

@crimesofpreternatural (nick)

If this was the detective giving so many people such a hard time, Ainelinn was waiting to be impressed. From where she sat across the bar, her certainly didn’t look like much, with the scruff and the worn-out trenchcoat, but there was no mistaking him. Belial’s description had been very clear. 

Giving herself a little shrug, which sent her new earrings swinging and glinting–he’d picked out such lovely amethysts, he was so thoughtful sometimes–Ainelinn left her half-finished drink at the table and sauntered her way to where Nick was sitting. 

“I hope this seat’s not taken.” With one of her flawless, dazzling smiles, she slid onto the stool without waiting for an answer. “I’d hate to think I was barging in on anything.”

  Nick had been planning on drinking himself into an early grave this evening -- a task which had, in the past, actually proven to be quite difficult. Either he had a remarkably resilient liver, or some bastard god was laughing at him.

  So when someone approached his table, he barely spared them a glance until they actually spoke to him. Swinging his head in their direction, he opened his mouth to state that yes, actually, it was taken by his drinking partner Self Loathing, but when his eyes met Ainelinn’s, the words sputtered and died in his throat.

  “Um... No, not at all,” he said, one corner of his mouth lifting higher than the other. He would have gestured for her to sit, but she’d already done so. 

  Part of his brain -- the sober part -- was telling him this was a trap. No person that pretty would willingly approach him for his company unless they had an ulterior motive. He wasn’t exactly looking his best today. Sure, he cleaned up real nice when he could be bothered, and under all that stubble and the dark eye circles was a very handsome man, but he hadn’t slept for nearly thirty four hours and his cocktail of neuroses were doing a real number on his fraying nerves.

  The other part of his brain -- the bit soaked happily in scotch -- was telling him all this self-pity and shit was kinda pathetic, and you know what would really help your shitty mood? A big ol’ dollop of dopamine, courtesy of sexy shenanigans. Go for it, man! No need to be suspicious!

  He decided to play it safe. They could be engaging with him for any number of reasons. Best to go for something neutral.

  “Can I, uh... help you... or...?”

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  Today was a self-care day. Which meant that Nick didn’t have work, had decided on a whim to isolate himself from everyone he loved, and was planning on eating cheap pizza and drinking himself half to death. With luck, by Halloween he would be an actual ghost and wouldn’t need to put in any effort for a costume.

  And because he was isolating himself, he had drowned out the world with punk rock music blasting at harmful levels into his thankful eardrums. So he didn’t hear the threat called over the shelves as he shouldered his way into the shop, busy bouncing along to tunage from his rebellious teenage years. Nor did he even realise that a robbery was taking place as he vanished down the booze aisle to grab whatever they stocked that had the highest alcohol content for the cheapest price.

  Only when he sauntered up to the counter with a couple of bottles of vodka in his basket did he notice there was someone else in the shop. Sighing, he glanced away to wait until they were done -- and caught a flash of flame from the corner of his eye.

  He blinked, stared at the lovely lady’s hand, then glanced up at her face to meet two black pits instead of eyes. Glancing past her, he noticed the terrified look on the store clerk’s face. Then he groaned, loudly, and pulled out one of his earbuds.

  “Please tell me you’re not robbing this place,” he complained, his eyebrows knitted together and his mouth skewed with displeasure. ���It’s my day off.”

@crimesofpreternatural (nick) 🔪

It was a Halloween tradition for Mic.

At some point, before the actual day, she would rob a store of all its candy. Usually she did so with Lock but this year she wanted to get an early start and the kid was busy plotting revenge on Barrel. 

The cashier was cowering behind the counter. All it had taken was a flash of black eyes and a little flame dancing on her fingers and then she was free to take whatever she wanted.

Until the little bell over the door jingled and a man walked in.

“Happy Halloween,” she called out. “Hands up, don’t move and you’ll get a treat instead of a trick.”

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storiestotell‌:

Cian left out the part where the man had been pouring the gas into the dumpster. It didn’t seem important or like something this person cared about. And besides, Cian had just picked up on something even more interesting.

“Why aren’t you human?” they asked, standing on their tiptoes to get a better look. Counters, they decided, were a pain in the ass. 

  “Great. Thanks.” Somehow he had managed to pump a significant amount of sarcasm into just two words.

  His attention returned to the phone, and he was about to unpause the movie and ignore the child when Cian said something that made his body lock up. Wide eyes darted sideways to check that there was nobody else within earshot, then he fixed a glare on the shrimp.

  “What the fuck're you talking about?” he snapped, gripping his phone so tightly his knuckles whitened. It was just stupid kid stuff, he told himself, he didn’t need to get so... worked up. “Where's your parents, midget?”