#my life is just so sad. like truly. u cannot even imagine how sad & miserable & lonely my life has been. on fucking goddddddddd

[lesbianlenas]

truly think i was placed on this earth just to suffer unironically…….like my life cannot just be like this coincidentally…… i am literally like. LMAO.

[just-like-playing-tag]

I have a very tragic question. What if Emma died by fighting demons & her close friends/family witnessed her die (ofc that includes Norman...)? Can u imagine how her friends/family would react to her sacrifice?

Yay it's sad headcanons hours!!!

Norman: Dead. Destroyed. Seeing Emma die in front of him would literally be his worst nightmare coming to reality. He'd probably be not accepting she's gone and would keep shaking her corpse for a long time, screaming, tears uncontrollably streaming down his face, begging her to come back. Don has to take him by force away from Emma's body because he just won't leave her. After the event, he spends a week at home alone, not allowing anyone near him. Nobody knows what he did during that time. But I believe after some time he will find the strength to keep going on, and return to relative normality. He knows that there's people who needs him: be it the habit of being a leader or his innate kindness and altruism, but he knows he can't abandon his family. And he has swore not to leave Ray on his own. So he keeps living. He constantly tries to keep his mind busy, not allowing himself to indulge on painful memories, which will lead to him constantly overworking himself (it takes an inhuman amount of work to distract that big smart head of his). He tells himself that's what Emma would have wanted, that he has to keep living for her. But a certain light has left his eyes, and it will never come back. He will blame himself for her death for the rest of his life, never being able to let it go.

Ray: His immediate reaction to Emma dying in front of his eyes is not as strong as Norman's: maybe it's because he's already experienced many near death experiences with her, but he isn't taking that she's dead. He waits for her to get up, frozen in disbelief. For the first time in his life, his fast reflexes and incredible observation skills just can't keep up with what's happening around him. Why is everyone screaming? Why is Norman crying? Emma cannot be dead, that's impossible. Emma is too strong to die. Everyone needs her, and he knows she would never abandon them. But then what's happening? Why doesn't she get up? With Emma dying, time stopped moving for Ray. He can't put himself to do anything. His life has lost any meaning. He's shocked. He's furious. He's desperate. And soon enough, he just stops living. He knows that's not what Emma would have wanted, and he feels sorry for that; but he's not strong enough to keep going on. I think there's kind of a deep meaning to his reaction? Thanks to Emma, Ray started living: he started thinking that happiness, freedom, love attended him in his life, when previously he only saw death. Now, with her dying, he has once again lost all of it, and all that's left is emptiness. I don't think Ray would kill himself because that would be REALLY disrespectful towards Emma, but I think he would essentially just let himself exist, and stop living. His family would try to cheer him up as much as possible, but with time it becomes evident it's all useless. However, they keep hanging out with him, as they don't want to leave him alone, and he really appreciates it. But his family loving him and him allowing himself to love them back is just another part of Emma's legacy, and it hurts in its own way. Norman insists for the two of them to move in together, and Ray doesn't oppose, but in his life there's now this gigantic, empty space that is impossible to fill, and that crushes him more and more every day, slowly consuming him.

(Oh my God I've made myself sad?? Jk forget about it, if Emma died Ray would party.)

Gilda: When Emma dies, Gilda's world falls upon her. She can't believe it. Her first reaction is similar to Ray's, but in her case rage fastly takes over the other emotions. Emma shouldn't have abandoned her family, the children that so much looked up to her. Emma had no right to betray Gilda, to leave her alone. Of course it's just a defense mechanism, and Gilda doesn't really believe that, but right now that's for her the easiest, most immediate reaction in order to not let the pain kill her. She's losing sight of what's the meaning of living, now that Emma's gone, fastly falling to desperation. Eventually Don will be able to bring her out of her state, and show her that there's plenty of things that make life worth living. I truly believe these two have an amazing relationship, and they would be of great help to each other with coping with the grief. Gilda is going to be ok, because that was the most important thing for Emma, for her friends to be happy.

Don: Let me get this straight: he's as desperate and lost as everyone else. He just lost one of the most precious people in his life and he's absolutely destroyed. He cries a lot, on the spot and the days and nights after. Emma was a big model and inspiration for him, but before that, she was a dear friend like no others. However, I think between him and the people before listed he would be the most functional one although the pain. He's broken, but he still manages to get up and push the others to move forward. Now that Emma is gone, he knows that somebody has to take her place; and even though he knows there's no one like her, he can at least try to be the support the children need. His family needs him, and he owes it to Emma. After Emma's death he will be the most helpful guide to help the others overcome the grief- which is sad in its own way, because if he helps everyone, then who helps him? I hope these kids will get therapy.

Anna and Nat: Shocked. Desperate. Heartbroken. They're young enough to see Emma as an older sister and old enough to fully feel the pain of her death. Hopefully they will be able to recover.

GF children: They're all so confused and lost. They can't understand what's happening. More than Emma's death, which is hard to process on it's own, they're shattered by their older siblings reactions. They would be upset indeed, but I believe children have a magical way to cope, and they will eventually be able to overcome the pain. They're the ones that best cherish Emma's memory, truly believing that she lives in their hearts and in their happiness. They become the greatest cheer up and drive to keep living for the older ones.

Phil: Heartbroken!!!!!! Miserable! Inconsolable! Emma's death deeply signs him. It takes him weeks to fully recover. After that he will try acting as normal as possible, especially for his younger siblings, but he'll never manage to be as cheerful and thoughtless as he used to be ever again. His childhood died with Emma.

Oliver: He cries a lot. Since Emma was younger than himself, he loved her as a younger sister, and when she dies, he blames himself for failing to protect her. However, he will do his best to reassure and help the others. Goldy Pond's experience taught him that it feels better to keep yourself busy, so that your mind won't have the time to linger on the pain. It isn't the best coping mechanism for him to handle the trauma with, but he indeed was of great help to fill the leader space Emma had left behind.

GP group: Upset. I like to believe that with the time they spent together at the bunker, they started loving Emma as a sister, rather than looking at her as a leader or a hero. That made her death all the more dreadful. Emma's death brought back once again the horror and desperation of the hunting ground, the pain of losing the family you loved. Having it suddenly brought back after such a long time was horrible: multiple people had breakdowns, with many thinking that such suffering is destined to haunt them forever. Eventually, with the support of their family they will help each other to get out it. Group therapy guys!!!

[sinkix]

~ Haikyuu!! Boys baking with reader - Ft. Ushijima, Tendou, Oikawa, Hinata & Nishinoya ~

YO! SO UHHHH... I’M BACK??? I GUESS?? MAYBE??? After a little break I had this in my drafts for a while and realllyyy wanted to complete it since it’s such a cute concept. Honestly at this point my posting frequencies are so sporadic and random pls forgive me lmao.

@deathcab4daddy​ gave me the inspo to include Ushi and it was so funny coming up with ideas for him, he is no.1 country boi chef 

Dude I’m listening to the Mario Kart soundtrack ‘Coconut Mall’ while I continue writing this someone save me. Like u think I’m joking. UR WRONG.

Ushijima:

The most straightforward yet idiotic baker you will ever come across.

Before you even THINK about performing step 1, he will read the entire fucking leaflet like it’s a Shakesperean monologue.

INGREDIENTS INCLUDED.

LIKE SIS I DIDN’T NEED TO KNOW IT CONTAINS  MONOCALCIUM PHOSPHATE THANK YOU.

I’m surprised he doesn’t count every single particle in the brownie mix.

You bought him a frilly cupcake-printed apron stating ‘best wife’ not expecting him to actually wear it

But since he’s secretly a big softie and treasures anything you buy he wears it proudly.

His stoic and dignified disposition is a comical contrast to the words printed on the front lmao.

Ushi best wifey bro.

The tight fit of the apron is pretty hot since it outlines every ridge of his pecs and tightly toned torso.

Gotta resist groping your mans while stirring the brownie batter.

tbh he’s more likely to grope you, he can’t resist that a$$.

And let’s face it he’s def an ass/thigh kinda guy.

Can and will try to casually initiate some form of unholy activities by lifting you up onto the kitchen counter, goading you to slowly lick the spoon and locking gazes before pulling you in for a deep, open-mouthed kiss to get a taste of the incomplete creation himself.

Ushi’s lips and brownie batter are a knock-out combo js.

Literally has the most serious face when he’s cracking the eggs into the bowl

The amount of concentration is equivalent to that of when he’s performing a serve at match-point.

HAS to set the temperature to the EXACT degree stated on the box

Everything is done by the book if you do one thing out of place he will pull you up on it lol.

“(Y/N) you were supposed to stir it for 5 minutes, not 7.”

When its done you feed him some and he can’t help but smile its so ADORBALE AHHH.

You end up eating most of it since Ushi doesn’t strike me as much of a chocolate/junk food lover.

STILL A VERY FUN BUT F R U S T R A T I N G EXPERIENCE.

Tendou:

The complete opposite of Ushi

Does everything wrong and the unconventional way.

Absolute disaster but doesn’t even sweat it since Tendou basically thrives in chaos and the disorderly.

To him instructions are purely equivocal, will read them for five seconds then toss them away.

Step aside Gordon Ramsey, Chef Tendou is here.

Despite doing everything the unorthodox way it still comes out amazing.

Like??? how???

Will cheekily place a dollop batter on your nose then lick it off fh3jkeffefds

Or if he’s feelin’ a lil freaky, he’ll swipe it off with his long ass finger and make you suck it clean, smirking at your submission as you coat his finger with your saliva.

oop-

Constantly cracking jokes and shitty food puns, pretending to drop the bowl to make you go into preemptive cardiac arrest before you can swat him with the spatula.

While you’re waiting for the timer to ping, Satori being the schemer he is will use this as an opportunity to pull some fuckery and tease you in any way he can.

u better be praying like bodhisattva TanaNoya rn because he is MERCILESS.

Suggestive comments, the brush of his fingers against your thigh, it’ll leave you A C H I N G in frustration by the end of it.

Unholy activities aside, once your baking session is completed you finish it off by feeding PHAT forkfuls of brownie to each other and giggling like dorks when it gets all over your mouth.

The jackass actually got a fingerful and SMEARED it over your cheek and forehead, drawing a little cross and snickering when the crumbs fall onto your nose.

Tendou was smart to draw a cross bc he gonna need jesus with the ATTACK you launch on him after that, which promptly leads to an all out food war in your kitchen that neither of you want to clean up after ward.

Don’t worry though it’s Tendou, he’ll somehow find a way to make such a mundane activity fun.

Nishinoya:

stirs WAY TOO VIOLENTLY

IT’S LIKE AN ELECTRIC WHISK ON OVERDRIVE.

IT WILL SPLATTER OVER THE COUNTER, CUPBOARDS AND EVERYTHING YOU HOLD DEAR WITHIN A 1 MILE RADIUS.

You best believe he will try and eat some of the batter and you have to swat the spoon away from his mouth since he has NO REGARD FOR THE FACT HE COULD GET SALMONELLA.

Plus you know what Noya’s like once he starts eating something the whole thing will be gone in a matter of milliseconds.

He somehow managed to get Baking powder EVERYWHERE and even gave him self a little moustache with it.

The white substance kinda looked like something else but you didn’t really wanna say lmaooo.

could explain why he has so much energy all the time oK ILL STOP-

While you’re putting the mix on the tray he is SO extra and will do fancy lil swirls and over extend his arm like a swan to gracefully spread the batter

until he nearly fucking knocks it over.

During processing time since he is so excitable and impatient you best believe he’s gonna suggest a game of ping pong or something because my guy can well and truly never sit still.

ping pong match with the spatulas, kitchen island and a hard boiled egg.

Pls be careful he will rolling thunder that egg and pimp slap it so hard with the spatula it’ll damn near give you a concussion, not intentionally, but like protect your noggin. Wear a helmet.

For the remaining 5 minutes of baking time y’all just sit like kids in front of the oven and watching it rise like starved hyena’s observing it’s pray before demolishing it into sad particles of cocoa.

And lemme tell u, once the timer pings, that baking tray is free real estate for Noya. Half of your creation will be devoured before you can even put it on a plate and marvel at your handiwork. 

He kicked your ass at spatula ping pong btw I’m sorry sweaty but short kings stay winning.

Oikawa:

Such a dramatic bitch like he got the whole she-bang going on.

Strapped with a pink apron, a whisk at his side and standing proudly with both hands on his hips.He is prepared like a greek gladiator going into battle.

You better believe he gonna make some snarky remarks and tease your method of doing things. 

“Ah-ah-ahhh (Y/N)-chan you’re doing it all wrong, let me show you how a PRO does it.”

Proceeds to drop entire bowl on his foot and yelp like a little girl in pain.

Well and truly embarrassed with himself, you put a band-aid on his toe and he piped down after that.

Shattered big toe and mixing bowl aside, actually a really good baker??

He is a PRO at decorating, y’all decided on cupcakes since its literally his forte to make them look aesthetic and pretty.

You almost don’t wanna eat them from how good they look.

jk almost

You take it in turns breaking bits off and placing pieces into each others mouth with a loud “aaaaaahhh!”

Places a piece in your mouth, leans forward and locks lips with you in a soft, passionate kiss before pulling away and uttering the words “It tastes even better coming from your mouth ;)”

hnnnNNGGGGGGggGg.

You both whine and bicker over who cleans up after.

“You cleaaannnnn!”

“no Toru YOU clean!”

“but I made the cupcakes look pretty :(”

“not as pretty as you <3″

He did the cleaning after that.

Like just stroke his ego with some compliments and he’s whipped with a smug grin on his face for the next 30 minutes.

You decide to save the rest and bring them to his next practise.

Literally on the verge of tears when he sees you beaming and holding the platter of treats, Kiyotani mauls half of them in a matter of seconds to which Oiks gets salty over LMAO.

Hinata:

So excited oh my god he’s so precious please protect him I will CRY-

Has a little sunflower apron on and JBJKNDDDKDW IM SMILING JUST IMAGINING HIM FIDGETING IN EXCITEMENT OVER THE THOUGHT OF BAKING COOKIES.

Yes you decided on cookies bc he goes rabid for some choc chip biccies.

You have to guide him v carefully because of how easily confused and clumsy he is.

Cannot for the life of him crack the eggs without getting a quarter of the shell in the bowl so you have to do it instead.

Has a surprising amount of strength and forearm power bc holy shit boy can stir FAST.

Hums a little tune while he does it and bobs up and down with a wide grin on his face it’s so adorable, he has such a gentle singing voice I can’t-

Attempts different shapes with the batter when pouring it onto the tray but fails pretty miserably lol.

he tried ok???

Once they’re done he takes the tray out of the oven and since it was heavy, subconsciously propped it with his knee and nearly dropped the entire tray from the pain. (I’ve actually done this before when making chicken nuggets I do not advise being that brain dead)

Had to put some burn cream on the bbies knee :’((

When you decided to dig in, he handed you a cookie that looked like a crooked circle and said he tried to make that one a heart and insisted he feed it to you.

Blushed VERY hard at the moment of silence and intense eye contact while he fed it to you.

Nearly short circuited when his fingers brushed against your lips.

Moe moe x100000000000000000000000000000

You offer to do the cleaning after because he hurt himself and you didn’t wanna make him do any work, but he still offered to wipe the surfaces for you bc he’s an angel <333

literally just wanna marry him.

[unchartedsailors]

literally every time my mother speaks i feel physically ill, im literally gonna be so fucked up when i leave this house. not that im not already but u know when ur going thru some bad shit and ur brain just finds a way to adapt bc life always prevails? then when u leave that situation is when u start noticing how fucked up u are? yeah its like that but i have enough self-awareness to realize how bad things r lmao. like could imagine what if get done if i didnt live like this??? if being in my own home didnt suck the small amount of energy i have left out of me to leave a shell of a human being???????????? id finish my projects, id work out, i could train my dogs, i could clean. this literally sounds like im making excuses for being lazy but i really and truly physically cannot do these things. u know how much i eat a day??????? like max 1000 calories and thats on a good day. i still literally do not lose weight. i dont fucking sleep. some days i cant even fucking walk without more effort than anyone should have to exert to fucking walk. i started reading a book the other day. do u know how much i used to read? constantly. do you know how much i had to fight myself to actually fucking focus on reading and not space out?????? thats just sad. id estimate at this point about 88% of my life is spent at least partially spaced out. like i just dont fucking care. everything is so awful that my brain is literally tryna shut itself down and not even that helps. every moment of my existence is awful. not even sleep is a relief. its unbelievable to me that people have times when theyre not miserable. even more so that that happens in their own house. like yall like..... experience happiness???? what the fuck lmao sounds fake but ok

[circumswoop]

perfect, really easy

I hope I can still do this. Write on my phone. Write at all. I still have a messy novel that’s really more of a deconstructed memoir buried in a google doc and I think I have a heart buried somewhere nearby too. The pilot Ben and I are trying to make has been slowed by technical misfortune, substance abuse, and literal distance. I was told from a neutral corner that my dialogue, which is my main consultancy, is too cerebral and will make the show Hard to Sell. If u gave me cash up front, I would be willing to make it dumb. If it’s spec only, I think the smartness of it swings a kind of bellum against my own boredom. It is, indirectly, a show abt a woman who’s turning 30, has two boyfriends, and is constantly thinking up ways to avoid both of them. 

I’m in a rental car with two friends in the middle of New Mexico. Scheduled to go to Marfa two weeks ago, we got into some leftover coke one of us had, mere hours out from our flight, and then nobody woke up on time. Hence the rental. This has got me fucked up, the mind-blowing lack of quality control that went into this. Who books a flight and doesn’t show up? Who does coke and then oversleeps? I now have credit toward a future flight, to a destination I can’t imagine, bc the future rn is the only thing I truly believe to be fake news. Where shd I go next–home for christmas? A beach where the sand looks and feels like broken glass? I want to breathe into a balloon til it turns into another planet where depressing inadequacy is not so elemental. I feel like a farmboy who cannot get all his chores done. This year and the whole headlong rush of this epoch toward certain death by profit cannot be sensationalized enough, and yet sensation is almost all it consists of. An indefinite, generalized body feeling is what we are all turning into as news and politics hammer us with detail. All hammer, no sickle. In the time it took to write the last paragraph, which also involved a lot of staring out the window while eating Taco Bell to be honest with you, we crossed from New Mexico into Texas. Welcome to Texas here’s your white hood. Welcome to Texas the state that killed Kennedy. Actually it was a supreme leftist who killed the centrist Kennedy, but the John Birch fascists get all the credit. Such is our myth of Texas that we empower their racists with more historical thought and influence than they ever exerted over their most famous export which is assassination.

I am in Marfa for the unaccustomed luxury of time spent with friends in an unfamiliar place.

At the start of summer I wrote in an email “even better than love’s confessions are its permissions”. According to the Invisible Committee, much of being a radical is refusal of the world. As abstention makes me feel more miserable not less, I can’t relate. Maybe the reason I can’t go full radical, or am fatally reluctant to, is I like being able to say yes a lot. Anytime I feel desolate or estranged, I get kitted out and go be seen in public even if I don’t talk to anyone. Which I usually don’t. My friend Chloe says she does this too. Love only makes sense to me as a radical act. Much of what passes for functional love in this culture is really just a bunch of hyperextended reactions to institutionalized sadness, but lots of luck finding anything better. I’d like to beat bourgeois coupling unconscious as much as any self-made cynic, but when you compare American marriage to, say, American corrections, both of which are needed systems lost for good in insane blears of greed and paranoia, abolition may not be the answer. It’s like, you can fix it only by starting over which is not the same thing as abolition. Abortion maybe, bc you can always try again if u want. Habitually getting mixed up with ppl already in committed relationships is probably just emotional vampirism. Some call it looting, I call it eating. As a marginal figure slightly on the spectrum with anxiety and repression who can still somehow lie and flirt and manipulate at the executive level all while having no interpersonal or socioeconomic prospects that I don’t want anyway, I am a really good last chance for someone with a probably basic, art-damaged kind of life. Married women always speak of their husband figures in slightly awed tones like they can’t believe how lucky they got, like the man is good in all caps and would instantly unravel at the slightest seam in the stocking. Like if he ever caught them stepping out via some OPSEC mistake they made and not even by his own subatomic awareness level, he’d be demolished simply by never having had anything go wrong for him before. Husband is such a specific kind of person-state, grown and trained, and if I were to ever try to be one i would have to hack the shit out of it–although I’m not convinced they’re any less toxic just bc they’re more high-functioning. Meanwhile the wives or wives-in-waiting pretend not to know they’re already starring in a commercial for how much sweetness and light and GOOD do not fulfil. In short, this is the kind of lawlessness that permits radical love but briefly, before turning again to refusal–the refusal to tamper with status quo, to make any kind of permanent alteration. If it’s secretly very trendy to decry structures the existence of which you not so secretly benefit from, what’s worse is to treat those structures more like fabrics to loiter in or on, or touch longingly. Essentialism doesn’t rend.

If you fall in love with someone you’re not really allowed to, and then that love goes mutual, you’re at least tagging yourself in a picture of paradise. But eventually you’ll be asked to leave. And since paradise is just a picture anyway, your image will feel decayed and exposed. Now it’s 2 days later and I’m back in New Mexico. Despite being a dreamlike Klono-state of pleasant denial, Marfa is still in Texas, the roguest of states. We drove near the Mexican border thru light so splendid the terrain looked recently refreshed. We put our hands in natural running water and looked at millipedes stranded on rocks. A thunderstorm diffused somewhere off to the side. Every picture arrives on your phone instantly airbrushed. The sky dies in pinwheels of color every evening and then reblooms like it never happened, sunsets and sunrises as breakdowns and recoveries scaled to look like natural events. Texas is beautiful but it is not art. Drive-thru banks, courthouse annexes, touchless car washes, parked backhoes, so many f150s.

Halcyon Digest, the Deerhunter record that didn’t define a decade but definitely translated it, was on repeat all summer. So we were playing that as we barreled thru arroyos and past rock formations so intricate they looked cut with string, and I remembered a night earlier in this terrible terrible summer when Ben and Andrea and I were doing coke and playing dominos at like 3am and the song Helicopter was on–that’s the one abt the Russian fashion hopeful murdered by sex traffickers. Its lyrics are too beautiful to edit so I will not reprint them here but I remember as Bradford sang “I have minimal needs/and now they are thru with me” something resetting as I looked at the faces of my friends, like a key of exquisite sadness being turned but I did not know in what lock. I’m certain it wasn’t just a drug reference, and I’m certain I won’t realize exactly what it was for years. 

On the 10 out of town, just before the Prada store, there is a zeppelin, part of the Tethered Aerostat Radar System, used by border patrol. Its role is surveillance. Unmanned, it hangs perpetually off the ground, secured by a single cable, from which it can reach altitudes of 15,000 feet, a white bulge of eerie focus, as various homing info scatters and beams. If you ran for your life, this is the thing you would imagine hovering over you, just out of frame. The kind of thing that knows it doesn’t have to hurry to get you. So run. Maybe I can still do it.