#but I can’t remember them and it’s annoying me

[scintillasofbeomgyu]

ᯓ★ from me to you — chapter five: the island

pairing: choi beomgyu x fem!reader. genres: slice of life, social media au, body swap, fluff, angst. wc: 2,2k. warnings: language, they’re talking about the bloody nose incident lmao, there are anxiety episodes, death and murder is used humorously, umm i can’t remember what else, lmk! an: these past few chapters have been a little dark, but bear with me!

“Happy moving day, (Y/n)!” Soobin and Taehyun cheer, raising their drinks with big smiles stretched across their faces.

“Welcome home, (Y/n)!” Yunjin joins in with a grin to match.

“Jjang!” you happily clink your cans together.

After spending the entire afternoon moving your things from your old apartment and into Yunjin’s, and then painting and furnishing your new room, you and your friends settled in the living room for a well-deserved dinner break.

You are gathered on the carpet around the round table where a feast befitting a king is prepared: crispy fried dumplings, soft fishcakes, spicy tteokbeoki, saucy black bean noodles, fresh pickled radish and ice cold cans of mountain dew. The delectable aroma wafts into your nose and makes your tummy rumble.

Taking a big slurp of your bowl of black bean noodles, you squeal in satisfaction with the warm, savoury taste. Soobin chuckles beside you, pushing the hair from your face as you take another cheek-filling mouthful. You can’t remember the last time you ate this well.

“Slowly,” Soobin says with an amused tone to his voice, grabbing a napkin to wipe the sauce from your chin. “You need space for everything else.”

You gulp the food down and poke your tongue out at him before taking another big bite. Soobin only laughs, nods and hums along with you, shifting the fishcake dish closer to you.

Taehyun takes a sip of his drink and sighs, his fondness of you making the corners of his lips pick up. “I would ask if you’re feeling okay, but from the looks of it you’re perfectly healthy.”

You give him an enthusiastic nod. “You know me. It’ll take more than a bloody nose to keep me out of commission.”

“That thought is not as comforting as you think,” Yunjin snorts.

You had been meaning to get new sneakers, but this pair had served you so well you were reluctant to do so – even with the new tear in the edge of the sole. You shrug. “At least I caught Taehyun on his break.”

“If anyone needed catching, it was you,” He laughs, popping a saucy rice cake into his mouth. “The nurses have had enough of you. Do you know they’ve nicknamed you Wonderwoman?”

“You say that like it’s a bad thing,” you shrug, feeling a pleased with yourself.

“And she did have someone to catch her. Didn’t you, (Y/n)?” Yunjin smirks, wiggling her eyebrows.

Your cheeks burn red and you hang your head in embarrassment.

Most people would have simply thought you were silly and walked away. And if there was a chance anyone did help you, your rambling would have pretty much done the trick of chasing them away with annoyed glares. But this person was different. He, as you presumed he was, had the most beautiful eyes you had ever seen. They were a brown so dark and shiny they resembled tapioca pearls. His eyelashes were long and pretty, your absolute envy. And with those gorgeous eyes, that pushed up into little crescents when he smiled at you, he looked at you with a fascination that made your heart leap.

He was so handsome. “And I almost broke my nose in infront of him!” you cry in shame, smacking your head, the scene replaying over and over in your mind.

“Oh now the broken nose concerns you?” Taehyun wheezes, shaking his head.

“Oh my god,” Yunjin says suddenly, banging her soda on the table and grabbing your shoulders, her eyes wide. “What if this is the man of your destiny?”

“Destiny?” Soobin snorts. “What are we, five?”

“And I don’t have time for dating anyway,” you sigh, eyeing the last two dumplings, but thinking better of it. You sit up and consider her with a raised brow. “Were you not the one who convinced me that men are trash?”

“I mean – I’m not usually a male apologist, but since you’re the only one in this friendship attracted to the species – I’m just putting it out there. You’ve never dated anyone before. Plus you said he was kind and pretty. The only person you’ve said that about is—” Then she snaps her fingers and gasps. “What if it was Beomgyu?”

You become animated and your eyes sparkle with interest. You grab Yunjin’s shoulders. “You think so? Really?”

“Want me to ask the cards?” She grins, unsheathing a mystical-looking indigo tarot deck from her bag.

“For the love of God,” Taehyun sighs, flinging a chopstick at Yunjin’s head. She yelps in pain and glares at him. She tries to throw it back at him, but he dodges effortlessly. “She didn’t even see his face. And he was wearing a mask, now he’s suddenly a kpop idol? What if he’s a serial killer? Stop enabling her.” As soon as the words leave his mouth, he freezes. But then he shakes it off and continues eating.

“You’re probably right,” you sigh, pouting in defeat.

Soobin knocks the side of your head gently and places the dumplings in your bowl. “Just eat your food, silly. We still have to finish getting your room ready.”

Yunjin rolls her eyes. “Disbelievers.”

The finishing touch to your new room is one of your most prized possessions: a photo of you, Soobin, Taehyun and Yunjin outside a club in Hongdae four years ago. It was the night of Yunjin’s first big crowd, the day Soobin’s uncle made him manager of the café, the day Taehyun passed his first year with flying colours, and the day you had quit medical school and moved out of the dorms.

It was the first time you had truly become best friends.

It was the first time you felt like you had a family.

You polish the glass and place the frame in the center of the vanity Soobin had gifted you for the move. The smiles on your faces fill your heart with warmth and pride.

“Can you believe it has been four years?” you ask, smiling.

When there is no reply, you turn around to find your friends fast asleep. You pull out your phone and snap a photo, trying as hard as you can not to laugh.

Taehyun is curled up like a kitten at the end of your bed, Yunjin is laying in the middle of your bed on her back with her limbs splayed in all directions, and Soobin is laying across the pillows, his shirt riding up, tangerine paint on the tip of his nose, snoring softly.

You pocket your phone with a soft chuckle and decide to leave them be. Carefully removing your thick brown cardigan from under Taehyun’s head, you step out into the apartment and close the door carefully behind you.

Without the commotion and company of your friends, Yunjin’s place, that you have been to many times before over the years, felt strange.

The big, open space that was the kitchen and the living room, with its high ceiling and white downlights, its shimmering tiled, marble and metal surfaces, felt cold and alien and a little overwhelming. And as you walk through to the tall floor-to-ceiling window, pulling your cardigan tightly over your arms, feeling quite out of place, you wonder if it is really okay for you to stay here.

You loved Yunjin, but the fact that she was letting you stay here paying less than half the rent made you uneasy. You knew her well enough to know she meant every word she said, and you would never doubt her or her intentions.

You just… felt incompetent.

In the four years since you dropped out of college, what had you accomplished?

You had a dream, a vision, you were determined to work hard towards. You were moving to Seoul to live life on your own terms and make the future you wanted with your own hands.

But it was pure luck that you managed to find the old, small flat going for the rent it was. You had to beg for every job you had and had worked yourself to the bone every day for four years, only to receive setback after setback.

The space between you and your dreams seemed to become greater and greater with each passing day, until they were now faintly watching you in the distance from the far away shores of an island you’d never reach, across the dark waters of an ocean that continued to drag you further and further into its depths no matter how hard you resisted and fought.

What comes next, after this? Should you go back to school? Were you going to work part-time jobs until the end? Or were you going to keep mooching off your friends? Were you going to end up having to move back home, admitting absolute defeat?

Why is whatever I do not enough?

More and more thoughts and insecurities cleave into your brain and drive a hollowness into your chest until you can’t breathe and tears are burning in the corners of your eyes.

But before your anxiety can best you any further, you pull your earphones from your pocket and plug them in. You fight the trembling in your hands and force your eyes to focus on your screen. Maze in the Mirror begins to play in your ears, the song and its lyrics soothing your pain until you can breathe again.

My shoulders are only here

So you can rest

So that you can rest

You hum along, pulling your legs into your chest on the living room floor. You close your eyes and lean against the window, allowing its coolness to bring you comfort.

The dream you’re having, the one where you’re being consoled by the man with the beautiful brown boba eyes, who’s arms feel strong and soft and warm and safe, fills and mends the cracks in your heart until it is stolen from you as the song comes to an abrupt stop and your phone rings.

You read the caller ID and your throat dries.

You watch the phone ring and ring, until it stops and rings again.

A text pops up on the screen, and you feel the long, sharp, needle-like fingers of darkness latch onto you once more, eager to haul you off the cliff into inescapable torment.

But you won’t let it. You are not who you were four years ago.

You step out into the apartment building and make sure to hear the door lock before you continue down the hall to the elevator. A walk is good. A walk is what you need to clear your head. Maybe a cold red bean ice cream, too.

In the middle of typing a text to your friends to let them know you’re going to the convenience store at the end of the street, your phone rings again. Your nails dig into the palms of your hands, and for a split second when the elevator doors open, you consider picking it up.

At that same second, you step out into the lobby and bump into a hard body and your phone is sent clattering to the floor.

“Sorry!” you exclaim quickly, picking it up and bowing your head in apology. But when you look up, no one is there.

You spin on your heel and find the person standing in the corner of the elevator in dark clothing, with not a single sign of remorse. He grumbles, “Look where you’re walking.”

You glare at him. Before the doors can close, you stick your foot in and give him the most loaded smile you can muster. “You should take your own advice.”

Shaking his head, he starts toward you. You do not budge, until it appears he is not coming to you but for you. You shriek and close your eyes, jumping back. When you open your eyes again, the elevator doors are closing and he is back in the far corner with the same unbothered look about him. You scoff. “You jackass!”

You flip him off through the doors and stomp through the lobby angrily, growling in frustration when you get out onto the street.

“Who the hell does he think he is! I mean, we bumped into each other!” you yell, to yourself mostly, as you start toward the convenience store, making other pedestrians steer clear of your path. “And that face mask? Does he think he’s an idol? He could never compare to my kind Beomgyu,” you declare, pulling out your phone to take a look at the sweet, handsome man that was your lock- and homescreen.

Upon retrieving the device, however, you gasp and the shock causes your body to freeze.

There is a long crack from one corner of your phone to the next, small little fissure cracks meandering off from it to the rest of the screen. You jam the on button repeatedly, but it does not budge.

Your eye twitches.

“That damn jerk! You better hope we never cross paths again, idol wannabe, because if we do,” you laugh manically, “you’re so fucking dead!”

***

Beomgyu bangs the door behind him and doesn’t even bother to kick off his shoes before he enters the apartment.

He pulls off his mask, his jacket and his hat and throws them to the floor.

He slams open the bathroom door and climbs into the shower, turning on the cold water and letting it run over his head.

His breathing is heavy and labored.

His chest is numb and his heart, shattered.

He falls to his knees on the floor and sobs into his hands.

Why is nothing I do enough?

***

prev. | mlist | next

life is rough for (y/n). after dropping out of college and moving away from her family to live life on her own terms, she struggles to keep up with the fast-paced city life in Seoul. she becomes a fan of the kpop idol, choi beomgyu. while his content keeps her motivated to strive for her dreams, she can’t help but wish she had the same luck he has had. but not everything is as it seems.

taglist: @yoonzinoswife @ameliesaysshoo @bgomtori @woncheecks @seodami @thing89 @stormy1408 @boba-beom @binluvsu @lillynval @nothingwithoutgyu @gyuville @tinhq @soobnuuy @031323o @damn-u-min-yoongi (send an ask to be added!)

scintillasofbeomgyu © all rights reserved. do not copy, translate, alter, or repost in any way.

[dreamvonlicht]

I know you're just roleplaying and I know you dont even know who am I. But you can be sure that I love you whit all my heart. This love has been in my soul since childhood, I meet whit dreamswap/fatal flaws at 9 years old and since back than I have a feeling for dream, I promised to protect hım I dont know from who but I did, I even had a video about it, (I probably get annoyed of how old dreamswap gacha community treath dream 😅) Despite all the years that have passed, I have not given up my love for him, I always dreamed that one day, while I was studying, he would come to the window next to my desk and watch me studying while he rests his magnificent and elegant wings, tired of flying. I May be annoying but I been waiting for someone to reveal my feeling, so Im sorry if Im a bit too much... After all, I want you to remember something, I want hım to remember something. Whenever you feel bad and unloved. Remember me. Thougth Im not even your friend, thougth Im not even someone you know, remember I love you whitout waiting for something back from you... Just ne sure be happy. Your smile is like tons of sun, and earth chouldnt live whitout sunligth ~🌙

First time I’m breaking character on this blog to say while I appreciate the gesture I need you to please recognize that I am just a person.

I understand this might bring you happiness and many others share that sentiment but I can’t respond to this in good faith.

Please do not confess your undying love to me I genuinely beg of you express it through any other means or keep it to yourself. And while I do think it’s nice that you found comfort in the character I am not actually them. And also you are correct in the notion I do not know you which is why this is an odd thing to say to me.

I’m fine when people do it jokingly, it’s funny honestly! It makes me smile when I get stupid, absurd asks in my inbox. I don’t think there’s ever been an ask I’ve received that’s genuinely upset me. But please remember that there is someone behind the blog.

[holidayinhell]

Whumpay (Attack!)

Panic or heart attack implied. You be the judge.

Characters: actual psychopath/ serial killer Whumper, simp Whumpee CWs: restraints, electrocution, male whump, eyeballs (?), murder, it's pretty dark, you have been warned!!

“Push your ankles against the legs of the chair.” He unrolled a length of duct tape. 

Whumpee’s smile dropped. He wrinkled his eyebrows, puzzled, and stared open-eyed at the larger man skeptically. “More?”

“It’s for the thrashing.” He reasoned. “Like I said, you need to be completely still if you’re gonna get high.”

“This is really weird.” Whumpee dismissed. But if this is what it took, fine. He’d go along with it.

Whumper wrapped the tape around his legs and ankles, securing them to the legs of the narrow wooden chair.

Now that his ankles were tethered down in addition to his wrists, Whumpee couldn’t move anything but his head.

“Good, good. You’re a trooper. Getting excited yet?”

“Not really.” Whumpee said flatly. In truth, being tied to a chair had excited him, but certainly not in the way Whumper was inquiring about.

“C’mon. It’ll feel really good once it gets going.” Whumper cracked a smile “Trust me, it’ll be worth it.”

The scholar crossed the room to the couch that was heavy with clutter; books, equipment, and garbage it looked to be. The entire basement had a stinking, foul odor, Whumpee wondered if it was coming from the junk piled high on the sofa.

Whumpee rolling wrists and ankles to loosen the tape securing him to the chair, but they were wrapped snugly in their duct tape cocoons.

“God damn this is uncomfortable. Argghhh! My nose itches and I can’t scratch it.” 

Whumper disregarded Whumpee’s objections. The man grabbed a silver and black case resting on the cluttered couch, popped the latches open and removed a camcorder box. He unfurled a roll of canvas containing a tripod. 

Apprehension settled over Whumpee as he watched from his chair, his anxiety mounting with every passing second. A rancid smell in the air made him recoil. “Can you smell that? It kinda stinks down here.”

I should really stop complaining, Whumpee thought to himself. He didn’t want to annoy Whumper, much less offend him. He considered himself lucky that Whumper had even chosen him, of all people, to assist with his thesis project. 

Thankfully, it seemed Whumper didn’t hear him. He was entirely focused on assembling his recording gear.

Whumpee felt a pit in his stomach. Whether he was being annoying or not, he reminded himself that he had to make his boundaries clear before they did this thing.

“Hey. Hey. Whumper!” he yelled to get Whumper’s attention for the first time. “Remember what I told you, I’m gonna to tap out after twenty minutes. Hard stop then, okay?” Whumpee said emphatically. “Got it?”

“Yeah, sure. Got it.”

Whumper silently loaded a roll of film into the camera, snapping the plastic compartment closed with a click. He pressed the power button and framed Whumpee in the center of the video screen.

“...and now,” Whumper hit the red recording button. “We are officially ready to begin.”

Whumpee’s breathing increased. He had anxiously awaited this moment since he agreed to it days ago. Whumper had been so happy he volunteered to help with his project, he reminded himself that this was a small sacrifice for the greater good, this was the first step towards forging a real friendship. And if he played his cards right, maybe something even more.

He steeled himself and summoned every last ounce of courage from the depths of his being.

“Oh shit, I forgot. Safety first.” Whumper retrieved the object he’d been fingering in his pocket. A short leather strap. “I have to put this in your mouth--”

“What is th--!” Whumpee tried to interject.

“--so you don’t bite your tongue.” 

Whumper already grabbed a handful of Whumpee’s hair and tilted his head back before he could protest. The bound man jerked his head back and instinctively pursed his lips closed. Whumper attempted to push the strap past his lips but they were closed tight.

“Wha — STOP! Stop it!” gasped Whumpee, breath ragged and nerves shaken by the sudden assault. “Fuck. What the hell was that??!”

Shit. Too heavy handed. Impatience always got the best of Whumper.

“Heh, sorry, sorry. ‘M sorry.”

“Sorry?! That was fucked!!”

“I’ll be nice this time. Promise. Here. Now bite.”

Whumpee looked at the man incredulously and sighed, but bit down on the gag obediently. He had to stay in Whumper’s good graces, he’d come all this way. Plus he really didn’t want to bite his fucking tongue off.

“Comfy?”

Whumpee firmly shook his head no.

“Well you look like a million bucks. Ya ready?”

Whumpee’s sigh was muffled by the strap of leather trapped between his teeth. He was completely immoble and incredibly uncomfortable, with absolutely no control of his body beyond his mouth and head. To add to his discomfort, a looming putrid odor hung in the stale basement air and the anticipation of being electrocuted made him nauseous.

His cheeks burned and he prayed Whumper didn’t notice him blushing. Whumpee reminded himself: he was going to be fine, Whumper wouldn’t hurt him, and he was lucky to even be there.

“I’ll start with the calf.” Whumper commented, touching the cattle prod to Whumpee’s leg. His breath audibly quickened.

“Easy. Shh. Relax.”

ZAP

It felt like all of the air, light, and sound had been sucked from the room and replaced with searing pain.

“Mmmmmmph!” His leg jerked upwards involuntarily, if he wasn’t tied to the chair he’d have kneed himself in the jaw. A biting soreness ran from his toes to his hip even after Whumper pulled the cattle prod away.

It was intense, the most blinding agony Whumpee had ever experienced. But now that it was over, Whumpee felt strangely... good?

Whumpee spat the strap from his mouth, and the saliva-coated leather fell on Whumper’s shoulder. The slimy gag slid down the taller man’s shirt like a snail leaving a path of slime, and plopped to the ground unceremoniously.

“Oh shit!!” Whumpee cackled as Whumper rose to stand. “My bad, my bad.” He felt delirious, but amid the chaos of his mind there was a course of energy that left him invigorated. He giggled at the trail of saliva that glistened against the larger man’s black sweater.

Whumper glared at the discarded leather gag on the floor. His eyes shot back to the human filth sitting in front of him. He exhaled slowly. A tempest of rage brewed beneath his calm.

“There is some kind of weird pleasure, I guess.” Whumpee offered, “I see what you mean. But it hurts like frikin’ hell.” Whumpee started laughing again and turned to Whumper. “I wonder what pervs actually use this to get off. Maybe we should think of a safe word.” He giggled.

What, like this was supposed to be some fucking sexual exercise? 

The very concept made Whumper want to gag.

Playtime was over. 

His vision went red. It was time to end this fucker.

Whumper retrieved the roll of tape and wrapped it around Whumpee’s mouth, circling his head once, twice, three times.

The man under him struggled to fight against his motions, bobbing his head and trying to bite at him as he layered his face in duct tape. But the ambush happened quickly, and Whumpee was powerless to stop him.

Whumper felt like all the duct tape in the world couldn’t silence the miserable brat.

The large man rolled the dial on the cattle prod to maximum voltage out of curiosity. Holding the device against Whumpee’s skin, he administered white-hot pain directly into his forearm. The small man heaved in his narrow wooden chair and nearly fell backwards.

Whumpee screamed. He screamed so much that his yells bled into one another. If his mouth were free it would have been the loudest he’d ever shrieked, but under his adhesive gag he could never eke out more than a muffled MMMmph!

Whumper pushed the device deep into the flesh of his arm, stabbing the prongs into him with so much force it nearly drew blood. Whumpee thrashed wildly, the excruciating electric shock traveled up his arm all the way into the deep veins of his neck.

“Mmm. Mmm-mmph!!” Whumpee hummed into the tape that sealed his lips. He awkwardly blinked to get the moisture out of his eyelashes, which were heavy with tears. It was all he could do at this point: blink.This was the only thing he could control in the entire world right now.

“What was that? Use your words, Whumpee.” He grinned wickedly. “You’re crying now? We’ve barely warmed up!”

Whumper took his captive’s chin in his cold hand and tilted it back to get a good look at his face. Tears rolled down Whumpee’s cheeks rapidly and his breathing was rugged and quick. He averted his eyes from the larger man’s intense, hungry stare.   

“Time to come clean, Whumpee. I know you’ve been stalking me all years. The way you’ve injected yourself in the background of my life--” A remorseful tear ran down Whumpee’s cheek.

 “--what, you didn’t think I noticed? It’s not like you were subtle about it. You’re like a fly and shit, your presence is a constant annoying buzz in my ear. So I thought, what’s the best way to kill an insect?”

“Do you know, Whumpee?”

Whumpee groaned.

“Zap ‘em.”

Whumper retrieved a box cutter from his pocket. “Don’t get too excited.” He warned, pressing the blade from its plastic sheath. The knife found the neckline of Whumpee’s shirt where it traveled down his torso, digging into his flesh in places. Whumpee sliced the shirt into jagged strips and let them fall to the ground, one by one. 

Whumper took a moment to admire the pearls of blood that seeped from the shallow gashes he made on Whumpee’s bare torso. He stepped back to ensure everything was in frame of the camera’s viewfinder.

“You only have yourself to blame for this one, Whumpee. I mean who the hell volunteers to get electrocuted?” The scholar grinned wickedly.

He thought they were supposed to be friends, he thought he was helping him with his project…

“I’ve never even been to college. Didn’t even graduate high school, not that I needed to. Did you know that, Whumpee?” Whumper rounded the corner so he was out of Whumpee’s sight, not that he could see much through his watery vision. “I was pretty convincing though, wasn’t I? You didn’t make it easy on me, with you stalking me for so long.” Whumper came back, holding a heavy metal object and thick rubbery wires. “I appreciated the challenge at first.”

He sat the car battery on the floor at Whumpee’s feet.

“But now it’s annoying. So I came up with this solution.” Whumper retrieved a box of cigarettes from his pocket and placed one between his teeth.

“I had to do a little practice with Big Bertha over here.” He said with the unlit cigarette hanging from the corner of his lips. Whumper tapped the car battery with his foot. 

“Winston was fucking old as hell-- you remember old man Winston right? The fucker up the street with the dog that bit me that one time?”

Whumper raised his eyebrows at his captive, silently demanding a response. Whumpee didn’t realize. He nodded his head, sniffling.

“One little zap and boom, he was gone. You wouldn’t believe it.” He shook his head. “Must’ve been like two, maybe three minutes? I don’t know. It was disappointing.” Whumper lit his cigarette.

“But his eyes did shoot out of his face, which was pretty funny.”

Whumpee squeezed his eyes shut as tightly as he could. His muffled cries intensified, he shook his head violently. Snot ran down his tape-covered chin and he was screaming bloody murder into the sticky adhesive that silenced him.

Whumper’s fingers grazed his hot wet cheek.

“I kept one of his eyes. And you know what I did with the other?” A sinister grin crept across his face.

“Fed it to his dog.”

Whumpee was reduced to a puddle of wailing mucus.

“All that to say that the old man actually did teach me a little something about electricity. So I went to the library-- like a real goddamn scholar-- and I did a little research on how to control this shit. Check it out: this is an alternator and this one is a voltage regulator.” He presented the two small devices. 

“You want to know why I went to all this trouble?” He took a drag and exhaled a plume of smoke.

“Because, Whumpee, I don’t wanna just zap you like a mosquito. I want a real show.”

“And you’re going to give me one hell of a show, too, because this gear was fuckin’ expensive.” He glanced at the bifold doors to the closet. “At least Winston picked up the tab.” 

Whumper crouched down to assemble the parts of his machine, leaving Whumpee helplessly taped to the chair, awaiting his impending doom. Tears welled in his eyes and he was silently thankful that they blurred his vision almost entirely, at least he wouldn’t have to watch as his life was literally fried out of him. All he could see through the haze in his eyes was the steady, rhythmic pulsing of the camera’s red recording light.

Whumper rose to his feet, his full focus fixed on Whumpee, who shivered in place.

“Now then,” he declared, ashing his cigarette. “Let’s get started for real this time.”

[starlypenguins]

Ibvs Headcanons

Carvers hair was the result of him trying to follow a YouTube tutorial and failing miserably, but not caring enough to fix it because he thought he looked good either way (whether or not he does is up for debate)

Felixs hair is just naturally spikey at this point, he used too much hair gel and now it just refuses to return to normal no matter how much he tries

Adding onto that, if by some miracle you do despike his hair, it will immediately return to its spikey form. He is in spike hair prison.

Louis just isn’t great for situations that don’t involve doing wizard shit or being voice of reason. If you’re having issues that can’t be resolved with his talking skills or magic, you’re going to the wrong person

Louis isn’t the voice of reason because he’s logical, he’s the voice of reason because he talks like he’s a living poem and it confuses the hell out of everyone so to avoid the headache of trying to understand Louis, they’ll just automatically give up and give in to Edward (unless you’re Felix. He probably somewhat understands Louis at this point)

Depending on who he’s around, Justin struggles to voice his opinions and feelings so he has to get someone to do it for him

Dez used to dye Edwards hair and use him as a test dummy, so there was probably a point in time where he had blonde hair for a bit, maybe even red

Sometimes Felix will tell Brandon to shut up even if Brandon didn’t say anything. It’s become a force of habit

Louis has his suspicions of the theatre kids, but hasn’t had a chance to investigate it fully

Sometimes Drew gets overwhelmed from seeing too many colours at once and will try to avoid heavily crowded areas as much as he can because if it

Justin has a secret supplier for his snacks but once James thought it was a secret supplier for drugs, so he was very surprised when he found out that wasn’t the case

Felix is too stupid to commit murder of any kind, including third degree murder, he’d probably find a way to fuck that up too and it’s literally accidental murder

Sometimes while washing dishes or taking a shower, Drew will ramble to himself about all the things he wants to say to Nevin and will probably say them out loud if Nevins not there, he just never has enough courage to actually say it to Nevin and if he tries to it never comes out the way he’d like it to

For a point in time, Isaac did try to take new kids as a chance to actually make a friend, but gave up after a while until Chris showed up

[tariah23]

oooooo white people in my replies really saying ‘I can excuse racism but I draw the line at homophobia’

Not surprised since this is the site that only talks about racism and thinks it’s a big deal when they see it demonstrated in the cartoons and comics they like *coughs* dungeonmeshi *coughs* (for example at least. I haven’t seen THIS many white ppl talk as in depth about racism on here as much as these fandom nerds, man. I stg. Like “Ohhhh, so you all DO acknowledge that racism is real? Just not in real life even if you could feel it slapping you in the face at high speed. Gotcha.” It’s crazy.

Tumblr is like, 90% white and is extremely centered around them. That’s why you barely see stuff that’s important to black and brown people ever trending here or being talked about. It has to be something incredibly huge to the point where even white people can’t ignore it like they usually do, to talk about it here.

They only talked about George Floyd here because the topic of his death became world news. Even people in other countries were talking about it. Before him, it was probably Ferguson and Trayvon Martin… most of them are still trying their best to ignore the genocides because it’s a “touchy subject.” What do you expect from white people who live in their own bubbles of comfort and refuse to pop it with a needle??? They find comfort in their privilege and faux ignorance (they love playing stupid to avoid conversations about important things outside of fandoms like, are these mfs born with half a brain dedicated to fandom or what.) That’s literally all these mfs make a big deal out of, especially on this annoying ass platform. The ao3 mfs will go to war for the site that allows racist ff and cp like it’s no big deal. I wonder how many people here even donated to the site while actively scrolling past dono posts from folks who really do need help. They act like they’re doing a civil service by defending this site that makes over the amount of it’s intended dono goal in minutes.

Then you already know as soon as you even bring up racism in the stuff they like, they start ganging up and harassing black bloggers especially, calling them TERFs and the whole nine. Anything to make that person look bad for being concerned about the racism that they have such an intense aversion to. God, it’s absolutely exhausting knowing that these people would have no problem choosing a cartoon character over your entire existence if they COULD. Isn’t that fucking sad, man?

[ifyoucandaniel]

hey guys, it’s ya boy, queen of never finishing anything because i hate my art and spent too much time on the sketch and ran out of motivation 😎

[deus-ex-mona]

rage is a ✨way of life✨

[4law]

OMGGG YOU KNOW I JUST TRIED TO MAKE A LINK AND IT DIDNT MOVE TO SAFARI. AND YK WHAT ELSE I FOUND ?? drafts of kinktober .

[orowyrm]

like it’s fucking infuriating how every time i go through anything that causes any amount of emotional turmoil, the moment i come out of the situation and start thinking ‘ok, i need to process this, what just happened and how do i feel about it’ my brain is just instantly like ‘process what? i forgor teehee😋’ like ok cool thanks for nothing you useless fucking lump of meat

[ringneckedpheasant]

every day I get more and more angry that my roommates got a puppy that they were completely fucking unprepared for like. it is your own goddamn fault that it acts the way it does because you don’t know how to train a puppy and apparently don’t care to learn and there’s no reason to be swearing at your kids because it chewed stuff up while they were home and you were at work. they are like 10 and 5 and should not be held responsible for what the Family Dog is doing

[catastrxblues]

good morning it is now 4 am and i have just finished watching atonement good night

[spacelesscowboy]

sorry but i still think it is so so crazy and insane to look at a child—ANY child, any teenager, ANYONE, but especially CHILDREN—and hit them. as a punishment or warning or whatever. that is so crazy to me. how could you ever look at a child and bring yourself to hurt them in any way shape or form??????????? that’s insane to me.

[technetiumai]

Thank you so much for the tag @you-remind-me-of-the-babe! (Btw, if I’ve never said it before, your username literally makes me smile every single time I see it.)

So---ya’ know, at a certain point, if I feel like if I want to qualify every post with “this is a little weird”, it probably doesn’t actually need to be said 😆. 

This is from my Carry On Prompt Fest fic 🤣. Due nearly three months ago and still barely started. BUT I WILL COMPLETE IT. TIME AND CIRCUMSTANCE (and the fact that i’s way too late to appear on the list of people who participated in the fest 😅) CANNOT STOP ME! THIS IS A THING THAT I BELIEVE AND AM DEFINITELY NOT YELLING TO TRY TO CONVINCE MYSELF OF!

It’s called “Who’s Gently Awful Stirrings Seem to Speak...” (Because it’s a sequel to “He Who Fights Too Long Against Dragons...” so, obviously, it also had to have a name that was both a quote and way longer than any title has any right to be. Otherwise it would have been weird.)

Content warning for talking about viruses?

Anyway, here’s whatever this is:

Helpful contextual information:

It is important to understand that the individuals who tend to be colloquially referred to as “werewolves” are not magickal beings born to their particular sets of magickal characteristics. Rather, they are creatures (be they mundane or magickal) who have been exposed to a specific magickal virus. The term used to describe the virus known to produce these transformations, as it is discussed in this guide, will be “the lupine virus”, as this is generally considered its common name. This virus is transmitted by the transfer of bodily fluids, typically the saliva of an infected individual being introduced to the bloodstream of an uninfected individual. While the virus is most easily transmitted between members of the same species, it is also commonly passed between a variety of species (though its symptomatology manifests varyingly amongst these species). 

Step 1: Obtain the following:

A mage

Note, it is possible that the listed material is more specific than is necessary for most purposes. In reality, any unvaccinated human will be able to contract this virus. So, if one is contemplating the intentional infection of a creature, they need not limit themselves to mages in particular.

I really need to make that tag list. @cutestkilla, @captain-aralias, @fatalfangirl, @bookish-bogwitch, @onepintobean, @raenestee,  @ivelovedhimthroughworse... 

[jacquesthepigeon]

"He’s not the character he was in S1, he’s significantly worse, and I simply chose not to hold on to the affection I had for something that simply doesn’t exist anymore."

Is that why you stopped rebloging fanart featuring him?

I still rb a some that feature him with other characters… I think

Also anyone who has an adrichat pfp (which a lot of ml artists do) probably has me blocked so I don’t bother trying

[gawayne]

ughh SORRY BUT I HAVE TO SAY IT the people you meet in engineering are just by and large so unpleasant I hate it here

[fuckdamn]

slightly drunk but i’m sitting here thinking about jane margolis and like actually actively sobbing. i’m so sad she died what the fuck. her dad was a hardass and probably not someone i’d like very much irl but he also clearly loved her very very profoundly and if he didn’t like that he couldn’t always understand her lifestyle and choices and motives it wasn’t out of disgust or whatever it was because he was scared that if he couldn’t understand her then he couldn’t help her. is that fair to her?? no. and in the end he couldn’t save her because you can’t really save someone from themselves but how can that fact be any consolation when its your own child?? AND how can jane deal with being treated like a problem without internalizing that he thinks she’s a problem?? there’s no good answers there’s no right answers there’s only love that’s there despite everything and care and tenderness and the art that jane left behind and her room exactly how she left it like she could come back at any second but she CAN’T because don WATCHED them zip his lifeless daughter into a body bag and cart her off. that’s it. their last confrontation was a fight and the last time he saw her she was crying and she deserved better and she should have had more time and that’s all you can really say!! and don and jesse will have to carry on under the weight of not only crushing grief but crushing guilt (while the man who could have literally physically saved her will continue to justify his failure to act through increasingly twisted rationale). jane was edgy and snarky and ostensibly kept most people at arm’s length but she was vulnerable just beneath the surface and she was dry and funny and smart and self-possessed and creative and she made beautiful things and saw beauty in things and she was kind enough to give jesse a chance when nobody else would and making impulsive mistakes during a relapse doesn’t make her some kind of evil temptress who was in it for the money all along and the fact that i’ve seen so many dudebro takes that imply just that makes me want to scream. she was only in like half a season but to me she is utterly indelible i love you jane i hope you are painting sick ouroboros murals in the afterlife