#now that this is finished I need something else that can occupy my brain and stop me from thinking

[sableeira]

drawing a bloodied Chuuya is very therapeutic

[hyuckkaiji]

even the stars do not compare to you - abby anderson × f!reader

summary; you and abby are both fools. fools who have loved each other while thinking the other incapable of reciprocating. fools whose feelings are finally out in the open.

word count; 1.8k

warnings; momentarily sad abby

note; abby anderson brain rot. she is my precious baby girl, and I'll give her the whole world if she'll let me

∘₊✧───── ─── ─────✧₊∘

Owen had been Abby's first, well her only, everything. But truthfully, he'd never been her first choice. He was what was left when she realized she couldn't have what she wanted.

And don't mistake that for her not having love for Owen. She does. She loved him once. It was a true love of sorts. And he has cemented his place in her heart, albeit small. There wasn't much room for him to take up, not when you occupied the rest of it. You occupy it still.

You have seeped into her, mind , body, and soul. She is infected by you. It seems the more she tries to stop it, the further you spread. You've claimed her, soiled her, left her unattainable to those around her. And you don't even know it.

That's the fucked up part, gods be good, she's yours and you don't even know it. She has to satiate her desire for you with mere friendship. She feels like a dog on the streets begging for scraps, for any measly form of sustenance. But if you need her to beg, she will.

Clearly, you need her to beg. It's been almost two weeks since she's seen you. You were fine last she saw, but it feels like you're avoiding her.

Volunteering at any open tasks, never on patrol with her. She doesn't understand. For years now, the two of you have been attached at the hip. Going so far as to switch shifts just so you can patrol together, but now, all of a sudden. She doesn't get it.

She did something she not particularly proud of, she's already established she'll beg ... it just has to be in person. She can't write down these thoughts to get your attention, she'll seem ... weak. So instead she asked Manny to find you, to tell you she's looking for you and it's an emergency.

There's no emergency, no that's a lie. The lack of your presence is an emergency, and you're the only solution.

"Abby." The sound of your voice startles her out of her thoughts. You didn't knock. You never do. Abby doesn't mind. She actually enjoys that you walk into her space like you own it. Because you do, not that you know that. At the very least, it makes her happy that you know she'd never deny you her space.

"Manny said you were looking for me, something serious." Concern laced your voice but you'd still yet to walk up to Abby the way you normally would, keeping your distance. Standing at the base of the stairs as she looked up you.

Her braid was loose at the end, starting to fall apart, she'd just finished pulling the band out when you interrupted her. She looks pretty with her hair down, at least you think so. But she hardly ever has it down, it's a vulnerable thing for her. And how she's hates being vulnerable.

"Yea." She stands, rubbing a sheepish hand over the back of her neck, "I've been trying to catch you for over a week now." She's walking towards you, and you want her to come closer. Want to feel the warmth that radiates off of her, want the scent of pine waft around you. But you take a step back.

A look of hurt passes over Abby's face, stopping in her tracks. "Why have you been avoiding me? Did I do something wrong?" Her thumb nails flicks against her forefinger, picking at the skin around her nail. An anxious habit.

"No." Your voice is small. You're not sure what else to say, how to voice what you've been feeling, if you even should. You had decided against it, decided just to distance yourself as much as possible, but now, being confronted like this, your decision wavers.

People underestimate Abby. Yes, she's big, but she's also fast, faster than you. She up the last few remaining steps, inches away from you, fingers locked around your wrist, all before you have time to say another word.

"Then why are you avoiding me?"

"I'm not."

"Liar." You are a liar, you've always been a liar, at least when it came to Abby. The truth was a weight you chose to bear alone, you say choose but really your fear had forced the decision. Fear of losing her should you come clean.

"Abby." You try and pry her hand away, but her grip holds firm, just enough to keep you near her, but not enough to hurt you. Never enough to hurt you, Abby would never hurt you. You let out an exasperated sigh, giving up, letting your hands fall at your sides.

"Sometimes... people grow ... apart." She says nothing, a beat of silence before you continue, "It's a part of life. People get older, they change, friendships don't always last forever." Her brow is furrowed, she nawing at the inside of her lip. The two of you ... grow apart ... it's not possible.

"You were fine last time I saw you. How long have you been feeling like this?" Her hair had fallen loose in her rush up the stairs, falling in waves around her face. Damn every God, she looks so beautiful with her hair down.

"A while. I didn't know how to tell you." Abby looks you over, you're lying. She's known you for as long as she can remember, she's loved you for as long as she could remember. She knows you, do you not know that? She knows when you're lying.

"Tell me the truth."

"I am-"

"The truth. Now." She's angry, like she has any right to be angry at you. This is her fault. Your resolve is shattered, how dare she be mad, how fucking dare she. This is her fucking fault.

"You wanna know the problem, Abigail?" You sneer at her. "You're the problem. You. I cannot stand being around you. I can't stand seeing your face everyday, hearing your voice, smelling you in the air. For fucks sake that stupid scent  of that stupid fucking soap clings to everything and I hate it. You are the problem."

She finally lets you go. She's on the verge of tears, but the tense tick of her jaw tells you she's not going to let them fall. "Alright... if that's how you feel." The guilt settles, deep in the pit of your stomach, you feel nauseous.

"Abs..." Your voice trails off.

"Just go."

"Abby." You reach out for her hand but she pulls it away.

"Go."

"I can't. I can't because you're right, I'm a liar." And a coward, damn the universe for making you, damn it for making her. She says nothing, only stares at you her anger is palpable, no, not anger, hurt, her hurt. Liar, coward, you add monster to the list.

"That wasn't true ... I don't know why I said it like that."

"It sure felt true."

"Abby..."

"How else could you have possibly meant it?"

Liar, coward, monster, idiot. Your list of personal descriptors is ever growing.

"I do hate those things." Abby huffs, looking away from you. "But not because I hate you ... Abby, even the stars do not compare to you. I have never see so beautiful a person nor I have I been enamored with anyone other than you."

"Do you know what it's like? To be in love with someone for so long and you can't say or do anything about it? To watch as they get with some ignorant douche who doesn't treat them the way they deserve?"

"To be in love with someone who only sees you as a friend? To be the shoulder they cry on about their shitty partner?" You shake you head, running a hand through your hair. You catch Abby's eyes, she's staring at you with this look of utter shock.

"I don't know when the years just became one too many, but they did and I can't keep doing this to myself. I can't get over you if I'm always around you."

Your name slips from her lips, like a mortal who has just come across their deity in the flesh. Oh she must be dreaming, then she's laughing.

It's your turn to be hurt, to cross your arms over your chest defensively. Watching as she giggles like a mad woman before wiping away a stray tear. "Pinch me, I want proof I'm awake."

"Abigail."

"Yes?" She smiling at you, big doe eyes watching you. Fuck you're so hopelessly in love with her, what made you think you had the self control to stay away from her.

"I'm not joking ... I'm in love with you."

She pulls your arms free just to take one of your hands in her own, running a callused thumb over your knuckles.

"Do you remember, when we were sixteen and we'd snuck out to watch the stars?" You nod.

"Do you remember asking me what I dream about? Asking me if you think the stars would grant our wishes if we told them?"

"You told me you dreamed of freedom and that the stars were just gas in space, not genies. And that they weren't even that pretty." Abby let's out a breathy laugh.

"I've never dreamed of freedom, I dreamed of you. And the stars are just gas, I'd come to realize that by then. If the stars could grant wishes they would have answered mine."

"I used to tell them my secrets, but they never made them come true."

"What...what did you tell them?"

"That I was in love with a girl, a girl so beautiful she took my breath away every time I saw her. I told them that I wanted to be hers, I wanted her to love me the way I loved her."

"When we were sixteen I hated the stars for ignoring my prayers. But it seems I was wrong, they had been listening all along. Though I maintain they really aren't that pretty, not in comparison to you."

Abby leaned in, her lips ghosting over yours, asking permission, you closed the gap. Wrapping your arms around her neck.

It was soft, sweeter than any kiss either of you had before. All gentle caresses and light wandering fingers trailing exposed skin.

Abby pulled you to her bed, pushing you down in between pecks. She hovered over you, "If i wake up and this was all a dream, I'm gonna be so fucking mad." Her lips are back on yours before softly trailing down your neck.

Her kisses are cool and open mouthed on your warm skin. She kisses her way down to your chest before letting her weight slowly settle on you. She rests her head, using your breasts as a pillow. "Promise I won't wake up by myself."

"I Promise." You wrap one arm around her, tracing random patterns on her clothed shoulders and back, the other falls into her hair running gentle fingers through her dirty blonde tresses. With in no time she's fallen asleep, feeling safer and more loved in your arms then she ever did in Owen's.

[dokoni-mo]

I’ve arrived with more horny william brain rot!

There is little doubt in my mind that our favorite afton to slut up likes to read. He’d probably love to share that with his darling bunny. And you absolutely know that man is making the polaroids he took into bookmarks. He just loves to see his bunny everywhere!

Bunny is in fact a college student, and sometimes certain classes end up requiring/give the option for a field trip. And that trip happens to fall on a weekend. They’re a little bummed, Willy is like actually depressed (lol), so bunny decided to hide a little something for him. As a ✨treat✨

So when afton wakes up Saturday, he reaches over for his book to read a little (because what else is there to do when his little rabbit is gone), and his usually bookmark feels a lot more lumpy than usual. So he opens it and what does he find? Polaroids of his precious, lovely bunny in nothing but his shirt, and a pair of her panties 💜

YEAH i uhhh,,

warnings: age-gap relationship (reader is 20 will is almost 40 yall know the drill), swearing, smoking, drinking, dom/sub undertones, sir kink, not proof read AGAIN IM SRY

"What? What do you mean the whole weekend?"

It had been an especially hard week for the brit at his diner. For one reason or another, it seemed as if nearly every single damn brat in that town just had to have a birthday that week. The diner was booked from start to finish every day of the week. William was frustrated. But every day drew him closer to the weekend. Closer to when he'd be able to see you again. And god did he fucking miss you. He missed his little bunny next to him; kissing them, holding them. Coming up with so many fun activities to show you.

But, it was in the past now. It was Friday. You'd be over tomorrow, and help relieve him of his pent-up stress like the good bunny you were.

Right?

Wrong.

"I knowwww, I'm sorry!" You pleaded with him at the other end of the phone, the older man taking a long, drawn out puff of his cigarette, "I just totally forgot about it until today!"

William sighed as he rubbed the bridge of his nose, leaning against the wall, "And you're certain you have to go, love?"

"Yeah..." you sighed back, "It's required for my major. And I already rescheduled it last month, too. I can't do it again or I fail."

"Bunny, the weekends are our time together. You know this."

"I knoww, and I'm sorry! I'd stay behind if I could but I just can't. I'm sorry, Will. I'll be back for next weekend though!"

William took another puff of his cigarette, "Are you certain you can't come over even for a little? I... I miss you, bunny. It's been a tough week, and... I want you."

You let out a sympathetic hum, "I miss you too. But I have to go. I'm sorry."

"Alright." William sighed, "Fine. But don't expect to get off the hook next time I see you, little one. You need to tell me these things sooner rather than later."

The brit heard you giggle over the phone, "It'll be fine, Will. Surely you can survive two weeks without me."

"Getting smart with me now, hm?"

"No, sir."

William let out a pleased hum, "Good bunny. I'll miss you, okay? Have fun for me, alright? I'll be here waiting for you."

"I will, I will... Hey, before I forget; you remember that book you gave me, right? The old, thick and dusty one?"

"It's not old, love. It's classic."

You giggled again, "Classic, sure. Well, I finished it. I'll leave it in your mailbox before I go. Maybe that'll keep you occupied until I get back."

"Nothing could replace your company, little one. But, thank you. That's very kind."

"It's no problem. I gotta go pack now, Will. I'm sorry again. I'll see you next saturday, okay?"

"...Alright, bunny. Have fun. I love you."

"Love you too."

~~~

It was odd to have an empty house on the weekends. While William was used to Michael being away at his mother's, the house felt more depressing than usual without you in it. Dull. Grey. No life whatsoever.

William didn't drink often, not at all. He never found it to be that classy, and he wasn't about to throw his charm to the wind over alcohol. But god fucking damn it. He missed you so fucking much that Saturday afternoon. His cigarettes weren't having their usual kick to them. He needed something stronger to fill the void where you should be.

Pouring his second glass of whiskey for the evening, he couldn't help but wonder how you were. Your college was taking you an entire state away from him. Those fucking bastards. How dare they drag you so far away from him. What if you got hurt? Or in trouble? And he wasn't there to save his precious bunny? You knew his number, sure, but you were still so fucking far away from him. And a lot can happen so many miles away.

William took a large swig of the alcohol.

Fucking hell. He missed you so damn much.

He knew you didn't mean to tell him about the trip so late. You were a good bunny. Hell, he was the entire reason you didn't go when you were supposed to. He vaguely remembered convincing you to stay in town the first time you told him about it. You had just forgotten this time, surely. He couldn't stay mad at you for that. It was hard for him to stay mad at you in general. You were just too cute.

But William was miserable. He didn't want this shit to happen again. You would need to learn your lesson. And he'd make you learn it next time you were over.

But would he? Thinking of it now, it was hard for him to imagine giving you any sort of punishment. He just wanted you close to him. To pull you in his lap and kiss those sweet lips of yours. Hold you close to him. Lie down on his chest while he read his books before bed.

Oh, yes. That's right. The book he leant you. You said you'd give it back before you left.

Maybe he should take your advice. Use it to get his mind off you.

Finishing up his glass, William finished up his glass before he walked to the front door, opening and shutting it behind him as he made his way to the mailbox. The cool breeze of the sunset blew his neatly-combed hair out of place, washing over his pale skin. Upon opening up his mailbox, sure enough. The book he leant you was in there. But, it was... strange. Looked a lot fatter than normal.

The older man reached in and took the book out, brow furrowing in slight confusion. Leaning against the mailbox to shut it, the brit opened up the pages to see inside.

...

Oh.

William could feel the heat creep down his neck and cheeks.

Oh.

Oh, bunny. Sweet bunny.

Strewn about the pages was a handful of polaroid pictures. Pictures of you. In so many different positions... so many. He could see the plushness of your thighs. Your sweet little smile. Those big, gorgeous doe eyes. Your cute little pair of underwear...

You even still had some of the marks he'd given you last time you were over. And was that his dress shirt? It certainly was. How long have you had that, little one? Why, sir barely noticed that it was gone. Stealing his things now, are we? Naughty bunny.

You've been so bad recently, haven't you? William didn't much appreciate that. You had earned yourself a punishment, bunny. You probably know that just as sir does though, don't you? Was this your attempt at getting out of it?

William calmly shut the book, but quickly walked back into his house.

It worked, bunny.

For now.

[blacktobackmesa]

Circus Peanuts - a Half Life VR but the AI is Self-Aware Minific

It's the middle of the night, and one eldritch horror calls another to talk about that clown cartoon. Canon to the Streamman fanfiction continuity, but exists on its own.

Written as part of my personal NaNoWriMo challenge to work on fiction for an hour a day.

“You’d tell me if I was like Caine, right?”

“...whu?”

“I–I  know it’s late,” The caller stammered. “Sorry. I saw you were up from your Discord… thingy. The… fuck, I don’t know works. Words. The green dot.”

“Status. The status thingy..”

“Yeah, you can tell I just woke up, huh? It’s nothing. Sorry–”

“No, no, don’t hang up,” the recipient cut in. “Commit to your bit. You wanted to ask about Cane’s.”

That made him laugh. Victory. “No, not Cane’s. Caine. The ringmaster guy.”

The recipient’s eyebrows furrowed for a moment, then raised to the brim of his bonnet. “Talking about the clown show?”

“Yeah, way to not make me feel goofy about it.” 

“Fuck. No, that’s– didn’t mean to sound like that. That’s a real question. You mean the teeth from the clown puppet show.”

“Yeah, that. That’s the… wait, puppet?”

“Cartoons are picture puppets, y’know?.”

“We can unpack that later,” the caller decided.  

“Was it a dream or just night thoughts? Or something else?”

“Dream.”

The recipient crossed one leg over the other and curled his finger around an imaginary phone cord. “You wanna tell me about it?”

“Mm. I don’t remember the whole thing, but I’ll tell you the important stuff.”

The recipient waited for a moment as his friend got his thoughts sorted. 

“We were playing something together, the whole team. There were some parts where it was streamed? But other times that wasn’t part of it, and it was hard to tell who was the host. But I must have gone through the wrong door or something, and I ended up in the Amazing Digital Circus. The place, not the… the cartoon. I mean, I guess it was in the cartoon, since it’s about the place. It really depends–”

“Did that matter?”

“What?”

“If it was the place or the cartoon.”

“I don’t know.”

“Keep going.”

Yeah, he could practically hear the eyes rolling. “Alright. Well, I was there. The team wasn’t. And I was kind of in Pomni’s role– you know, the jester girl. But she was there, too, so it was more like I was just the new guy after her.”

“It’s your self insert fanfiction.”

“Fuck, yeah. That’s… that’s legiterately what it… that’s not a word. Literally, legitimately what it was.”

“Be cringe and free.”

“I wasn’t free, though!” He almost laughed. “That’s the whole thing about the circus, you’re stuck there. And that’s why Caine does the adventures, right? He’s… I mean, there’s lots of ways to interpret the pilot, but that’s what I figured: Caine does the adventures so that the people trapped there have something to keep them occupied and fulfilled and all that. He’s not exactly, uh, sane about it, but he’s not trying to hurt them, he just doesn’t understand what it’s like to be them, he knows they need something to interact with and just makes shit up so they have something to do with their lives–”

“Ohhhh.”

“You get it?”

“Yeah. That’s fucked,” he confirmed. “Now breathe before you pass out.”

From the sounds on the other end, that’s just what he did. 

“So whuhappen?”

“It’s a little fuzzy,” the caller went on. “We had some task, but it changed through dream logic stuff. Something like finding keys in eggs. But my brain wasn’t fully locked into the dream logic, so whenever something changed it just fucked with me real hard. I was just freaking out about being stuck there, about not being able to go back home, what would happen to my kid and my apartment and…”

He trailed off. 

“And what?”

He took a deep breath. 

“You guys,” he finished. “What would happen to you guys if I was gone. That’s when… this is the part that fucked with me, I guess. At some point, even though they still looked and sounded like the cartoon characters, my brain decided that the circus characters were the Science Team.”

“Oh, cool. Was I the bunny?”

“Was–” he wheezed a little. “I don’t know. That’s not important.” “It is.”

“No.”

“Yuh-huh.”

“No, it wasn’t– it wasn’t a direct, one-to-one thing. It was more like the concept. The concepts got crossed. It wasn’t… I didn’t Kin Assign you guys.”

“Boo.”

“Ignoring that. It was around that time that Caine kind of disappeared from the dream, and I didn’t even notice until I woke up. Instead, I had to be the one who set up things to do to keep the circus team busy. And when I got into that, my mind kind of… stopped being about being trapped. The dream kind of morphed, the way dreams do. By the time I woke up, it wasn’t even about being trapped in the circus anymore. It was brainstorming for next week’s stream, just inside the circus. It happened so smoothly.” 

There was a lull in the conversation. The caller seemed out of steam. The listener continued to twirl their invisible phone cord.

“You wanna play Carnival Games for the Wii next week?”

“...No, Benrey. Not really.”

“Why?”

“...I don’t know. Motion controls.”

“You use VR legiterately all the time.”

“Heh. Maybe.”

“Maybe yes?”

“Look, just… thanks for listening.”

“Mm. Thanks for talking.”

[imperatriceauxdiamants]

Review of my past dopamine detoxx efforts, so you can learn from my fails and wins, just cuz I love you

YOUTUBE - I simply uninstalled the app off my phone. Some think it is simply unimaginable, that they can't handle it without YouTube, but Istg it's all lies your mind is telling you. If you're spending so much time on YouTube Shorts, just uninstall. It's like, so easily accessible via the YT app. On the desktop website version it is not as accessible (important keyword!), and thus, you're less likely to binge so hard. Every time I installed YouTube, Shorts was my bane. So I was so much off just uninstalling it. I also unsubbed from all my channels, I used to only have a few subs but I realized I just didn't listen to any of their content. I liked the IDEA of those people, their aesthethica, their whole mood, etc. But their content didn't help me. So out the window it goes!

FACEBOOK - That was a easy one to be quite honest, I used to post a few pictures a month, mostly food or hike trips, stuff like that. I just kept my Facebook going on for the professional groups and school group chats, otherwise it would be completely shut down. I now just don't post anything at all, nothing at all. People don't need to know every minutiae of my life. Shoo shoo.

TUMBLR - This one bit my ass hard. I unsubbed from every single blog, even my favourites, and saved the list in an archive sideblog. But it turned out I just didn't visit those blogs that often, and thus, I wasn't as active on Tumblr as much. So I'll concede, because I love my blog and Tumblr so much, I'll subscribe to a few blogs, but be very strict about my curating. One of the issues I had with Tumblr was the endless scroll of aesthethic pictures without any informative and thought provoking content... it just annoyed me to no end having to scroll and NOT MISSING THE "IMPORTANT" STUFF. (FOMO in a nutshell). Later on I'll reexamine my use of Tumblr. Maybe I'll just unsub again, maybe I'll curate it even more, to be seen. That's the beauty of this process, you can make mistakes, learn from them, and correct your shot as you go. No need to get it perfect from the start.

REDDIT - Despite deleting my account, I noticed I kept coming back to Reddit, because I lacked things to occupy my mind (veryyyyyy important to me else I'll go rabid). I found solutions that engage my mind, without absorbing negative vibes. Yeah as you might've noticed, Reddit is like so negative, and so irritating. No bueno. I installed a very simple sudoku game without ads, and downloaded a big fat bunch of boosk to read into my ebook. A massive quantity I can't ever finish them all. Smart babes gotta maintain their brains!

INSTAGRAM - It has been like YEARS since I ditched this, but I still remember very well my lesson: I obessively followed accounts of influencers, and artists and those home decorating accounts, to a point it took like a hour to check every single account's posts. Spending so much time over this, because I ASPIRED to become those people, but DIDN'T do any sort of effort. I did save pictures of artist's art, thinking I will do something inspired by their stuff, but I just did nothing. I just collected and collected and collected. It was exhausting my precious time without any good return, and as the wastage went on, my guilt became heavier. A guilty mind will do shit. It won't do stuff. It will procrastinate. So I decided to just quit, it was hard at first, but later I realized I just didn't miss it, and I was happy to have my productive, creative mind back. So yeah, good riddance

[cat3ch1sm]

Yeeey! what would my last request be like in Jujutsu Kaisen? only with the cute and beautiful Itadori, Sukuna and Gojo! S/O having communication problems and having their diaries read by them, and reaction to seeing this! ( S/O with Komi san personality with Itadori, Sukuna and Gojo? 🤔😳 )

🍵| ofc ofc<33 i really appreciate ur patience:DD also i have yet to finish the anime do forgive me if i don't characterize these guys right!!! im going off of what i have RN, im about halfway finished with the anime<333

pov: reader s/o is very shy and hardly talks at all, what happens when their partner finds their diary?

itadori yuuji

༊* don't get me wrong, itadori is literally in love with you more than anyone else probably ever will be. but with his personality, sometimes he really wishes you would talk!!! more!!! often!!!

༊* so he goes to one of his friends, say nobara and megumi, and he's like "why do you think y/n doesn't talk??" and nobara's like "idfk bruh but she probably has somewhere else to 'express herself.' like a diary or smth"

༊* "so does that mean fushiguro has a diary too??" *deadpan voice from across the room* "no."

༊* now that itadori has this idea in his head, he goes off to look for one. and after searching in these dumbass places like the toaster or some shit he finally finds it in an obvious-ish place like under your bed

༊* "wow! y/n has a diary! i didn't know that.. wait, should i be reading this? probably not..." *looks guilty for two seconds* *opens the diary*

༊* when he starts to read it, he's surprised by the eloquence of your writing- tbh it makes his brain hurt. but itadori keeps reading anyway

༊* he is also surprised because you seem to feel a lot despite not conveying any of it whatsoever. he reads how you worry when he goes out on missions, he reads how at peace you feel whenever you're with him, he reads how you get angry when sukuna threatens to harm itadori, he sees how you wish you could show him more affection than you are able to, and he reads about how you wish you were able to be real friends with his friends. he even gets to know about how you felt about him even before you started dating, and how shattered you were when you thought he had died

༊* also, it makes itadori so happy when he reads the way you write about him throughout your relationship. all this time he had never been totally sure how you felt about him, but now he's relieved and absolutely thrilled to know that you love him as much as he does you. he only wishes you had shared all of this with him personally

satoru gojo

༊* okay. let's start with the fact that this man has the attention span of a celery stick

༊* you probably left the house for ten to twenty minutes to run and errand or two. and knowing that satoru is a literal child, you put something interesting on TV for him to watch so he doesn't blow the place up

༊* but yeah, no, that didn't work. 0.0005 seconds after the door locks behind you, he's all over the place. and of course he ends up in your room, where he unashamedly snoops through your things until he comes across a little journal

༊* "what's this? a diary???" *opens it up immediately and starts skimming through pages*

༊* sooner or later though, satoru is forced to actually start really reading when he doesn't find what he expected. he'd kind of been counting on some long, depressing sob story that would maybe explain why you were the way you were or something sappy like that. but a lot of your experiences don't seem so different from his- you just take them more slowly. your way of viewing things is a lot less quick than satoru's- while he kind of blasts through everything with a smile on his face and cracking stupid jokes, you stop to observe everything, and he can see this clearly in your writing.

༊* you need a medal fr- you managed to keep your mental boyfriend occupied for more than three seconds at a time??? and he's actually enthralled??? what the heck?!?1!1!1!1?!

༊* he doesn't even bother covering up tbr fact that he read your diary tbh. chances are when you open it up again to the last page you wrote on, there'll be a little teasing note from him or a stupid but affectionate doodle in the margins

༊* anyways, in the future, when satoru annoys you and you try to act mad, he'll just bring up your diary and quote something sappy you wrote about him just to make it worse

ryomen sukuna

༊* sukuna knew you had a diary. he sees you writing in it all the time when you think he isn't around

༊* to be honest, at first he couldn't care less. so what if you had a diary? diaries were for children- it was weird that you didn't talk to begin with. if he wanted to get something out of you, he would. that was all there was to it. he didn't care. sukuna didn't even want to hear about your thoughts and feelings and experiences.

༊* well... until he got to thinking. why were you scribbling all of your thoughts and feelings and experiences on paper when he was right there, anyway? of course, it wasn't like sukuna cared. no, not at all. but still. you should've been telling him these things, not rambling in some silly journal.

༊* he had a right to your mind, didn't he? why was sukuna even dating you if he didn't have access to your thoughts? no, this wouldn't do. he would just have to read the damn thing himself.

༊* so that's what he did. once you'd finally gone to bed, sukuna slipped into your bedroom and pulled your diary from its hiding place. he was surprised to feel no cursed energy radiating from it- that seemed uncommon for a human diary. somewhat curiously, he opened it and began to read.

༊* instantly, sukuna sees why there's nothing cursed coming from your notebook- but tbh, he doesn't necessarily understand how. in your writing, you seem to omit the negative things he was sure you'd include. he's not the "king of curses" in your eyes- he's just sukuna, your eccentric, sarcastic, and occasionally murderous boyfriend. you don't really bring up his "thing" with itadori, either, though you write a little about the boy himself as well as the teachers and students you've met while attending the academy with him. your character analysis is certainly nothing to sneeze at despite barely knowing many of the people you mention in your diary. you write about things as if they're flowers- sukuna's surprised that that's one of the first things that pops into his head as he's reading. frankly, he thinks it's sickening. but something stops him from closing the notebook

[gayscytheblog]

Opinions and headcanons because I FEEL LIKE IT

Btw asks are open :3 (also spoiler warningggggsssss)

Starting off with my favorite Scythes-

Scythe Faraday:

-GGGOD HE DESERVES SM BETTER

-Favorite Scythe in the whole series.

-His character is really well written and I love it.

HEADCANONS TIME. (haven’t finished The Toll yet btw, just to note)

-He’ll never get over Scythe Curie’s death. Never. He might deal with it better, but he will never fully get over her.

-Cat and dog person.

-Probably doesn’t gaf if he’s referred to as “old man”

-He def has some sort of soft spot for kids. (Not in a gross way istg)

-Prolly thinks of Rowan and Citra as his kids

-He’s giving Bisexual or Pansexual. Idk

-He needs a hug or something goddamn

-I feel like as a kid he was shoved into a pile of mud. Idk he just seems like it.

Scythe Anastasia:

-2nd favorite Scythe

-I FORGET HOW MEAN SHE WAS IN THE FIRST BOOK I STARTED TO REREAD IT AND I JUST KEPT LAUGHING MY ASS OFF I love her for it though

-Character development was nice

HEADCANONS TIME.

-She probably looks back at her old self and cringes.

-Fetal position sitting is the safest sitting position for her

-Probably hates freezing cold weather since it reminds her of the Vault when, yk, Scythe Curie died and she died for a good 3 years or so??

-I feel like she’s more of a cat person than a dog person

I have no more ideas for her rn help

Scythe Curie:

-GOD I LOVE HER why the FUCK did she have to die NEAL.

uuh I don’t have any hcs for her rn i’ve been stuck on this for days

Scythe Volta:

-I will admit, when he was first introduced I didn’t gaf

-To be fair, I was only reading the Aoas series originally because there was nothing else interesting in the library. Soo I was mostly skipping through parts of the first book like an idiot.

-Now though? 4th favorite Scythe.

HEADCANONS WOOOOO

-Idk I feel like he’d be both a dog and cat person

-idk what else to add my brain isn’t functioning i’ll think of more eventually

NO MORE SCYTHES NOW.

Jerico Soberanis:

-Favorite character in the whole series.

-Jerico was the only reason why I actually started The Toll. I didn’t want to read it because CURIE FUCKING DIED but my friend mentioned that there was a genderfluid character in it.

-Jeri occupies my thoughts 50% of the time.

HEADCANONS TIME again

-I feel like he (it’s cloudy rn) would be pretty damn flexible. Idk why I just feel like it.

-Probably gets along really well with just about any animal except for cats. Idk why

-But at the same time I can see Jeri being a cat and bird person

-If it’s freezing out, and Jerico’s cold, he’d act as if he’s not cold in the slightest.

-Can be the biggest smug ass BITCH sometimes

My head hurts im done (for now..)

Note: I forgot to post this two days ago help

[madstwd]

Day 13 - Daryl Dixon x Reader

"Can't banish me, it's my room"

Season: 5/6

Words: 1k

Warnings: None

Hope you enjoy some fluff! Only 7 days left ❤️

Masterlist

--------------------------------------------------------

“The hell are you doing girl?” Daryl spoke as he walked up to the house. He had gotten back from a hunt only to find you on the porch holding cans of paint and choosing the best colour. He watched as you intensely stirred and considered each colour. “Oh hey! I found theses in a storage cupboard and I thought it would be nice to paint your room”

“Why it's fine”

“Well I thought it would be nice, plus everyone's going out and with my sprain I can't do anything” you replied. Daryl eyed you, he was thinking about how to go about this situation. “What colour ya thinking?” He asked. You were shocked by his response, “I'm not sure, maybe an earthy tone like brown or green. Something other than black” you said, showing him the collection of limited colours. He nodded. Daryl wanted to decorate his room, finally having his own space that was permanent and wasn't occupied by someone else. At the prison his cell was just littered with bolts and other things a few pelts from animals he thought were pretty. The idea was just overwhelming and he was shocked you seemed so eager to help him, without him asking. “Sure, do you need any help?”

“I was going to do it as a surprise, so no coming into your room as I paint it”

“Ya can't banish me, it's my room. Besides how ya gonna reach the high places” he joked. A small grin placed on his features. You slapped his arm, “I decorated my own place back in the day, I would have managed” you replied. Daryl laughed and raised an eyebrow, causing you to lightly punch his arm. “So which colour then? I like this green” you said pointing to a muted olive colour. Daryl thought for a moment, his brain not being very creative he found it hard to imagine the colour on the wall. You watched as he got lost in thought, his brain trying hard to imagine what would look best in the space. “Here I'll show you, can you carry the other pots?” You said, picking up the handle of two paint cans. He nodded, picking up the rest and following you.

His room was bland just like the prison, the wall bare and the room in dire need of a pop of colour. He watched as you pulled out a paint brush, dipping it in the colour and creating swatches. He smiled at the length you were going to help him settle more in Alexandria. “So which one?” You said now having the colours displayed neatly on the wall. He looked again, the swatches helping him visualise the colour more. “I'm stuck between the green and the grey” he replied. You nodded, giving him a small smile, “that's alright we can do both! If you paint that wall green then the rest will be grey, since we have more of the grey” you said, handing him a roller, brush and the paint. You both quickly got to work, you showed him how to cut in the edges allowing him to control the paint much better and get a better finish. Idle conversation filling the space made it comfortable and memorable for him. “I forgot how it feels decorating, I painted my whole apartment on my own. No one would help me” you said, wiping your brow with your forearm as the Virginian heat leaked into his room. “Never did this, Merle and I never had anything permanent” he mumbled, expecting you to be shocked or pity him. “Well we are doing it now” you said smiling. You knew about his past, helped him move on from it, and leave it in the past . He admired you, wanted to help you move forward as well. “Think of it like, painting over old cracks” you said, he nodded not replying. You turned to watch the man focus on evenly spreading the paint on the wall with the roller. He didn't fail to notice as you tried to sneak closer to him, confused as to what you were doing until he felt the paint swipe on his arm. “The hells that for!” he exclaimed, turning to look at you with the most offended look. You burst into laughter, before doing it again, his arm covered in two large swipes. He couldn't be made for long, the sound of your laughter almost making his knees buckle. Instead as you were distracted he swiped at your face, covering your cheek in green paint. He started to laugh at your shocked paint, clearly thinking he would ignore you or not find it as funny as you did. It quickly escalated into a paint battle. Your clothes were covered in paint as was his arms. The walls half done as you continued to dip and chase each other around. When he dipped his brush and chased you he dragged small paint marks as he ran around, which you didn't notice until you lost your footing sliding and crashing into the green wall.

“GOD! Are ya alright?!” He yelled quickly running over to you only doing the same thing and collapsing in a heap against you. The both of you laid looking at the ceiling laughing. Just two idiots covered in paint. “Are you okay?” He asked again, clutching his stomach from laughing too much. “Yes I'm okay! I might have a bruise but I had fun” you laughed. He smiled at you, laying watching you. You turned to meet his gaze smiling at him as well. Even though the community was hard to get used to, you had each other to make memories.

“You guys alright down there? We heard a crash, ``Rick called out. You and Daryl both giggling helping each other up.

“We are just fine”

[eddiesmxse]

Savior - Eddie Munson x Reader pt2

Masterlist Pt1

Warnings || Cursing, mentions of drugs, mention of a dead character, slight bickering between the reader and a traumatized ™ eddie…lazily written s4 Plot (gonna have to look up the script anyway but don’t think it’s gonna be spot on hehehe), Not much happening this part unless I just keep writing and writing okay lemme stop. Enjoy! 🫶🏾

He wouldn’t stop shaking. He couldn’t stop shaking. Here he was, scared shitless with you, you a few meters away. Ready to give him a tight hug or a let him cry in your lap. This was so insane he couldn’t wrap his mind around it. Hours ago you made the declaration of never tutoring or seeing him and although one of those he didn’t like … here you were. Wait. Why were you here? Why did you come to his trailer that late? And in your work uniform, which he noticed after sobbing his eyes out. The tight blue shirt with red sleeves hugging your chest and your black skinny jeans tight around your legs.

“Why were you there?” He questions quietly, lifting his head from your lap.

“Hm?” You mumble, looking up from the spot of the floor you were spacing out to.

“Why were you at my trailer?” He questioned again, sniffling and wiping his eyes so they were rid of tears.

“Oh uh- well I was coming to take back what I said. At lunch. I know we have our differences but everyone should be able to graduate, so I want to help tutor you” You give him a tight lipped smile, trying to be as nice as possible. You figured entertaining this conversation would keep him occupied but unfortunately you’ve used up a good amount of your nice points to comfort this man and you were starting to run out.

“Really? You’re gonna help me?” He says a little louder, sitting up straight. “No bullshitting?”

“Nope. None. I know you don’t wanna be in highschool anymore so of course I’ll help you. But that’s it, nothing else” You finish, crossing your arms and sitting back.

“Thank you, really it means a lot. Thank you.” He repeats himself, sitting back on the couch and crossing his feet, stretching his legs out.

“Are you feeling better?” You say softly, glancing over to him.

“A little” He mumbles weakly, picking at the skin of his fingernails. “Are you alright?”

“Yeah I’m fine, just trying to figure out how I’m gonna get back to my car and back home before my mom starts calling around Hawkins like she’s crazy” You exasperated, standing up and rubbing your temples, closing your eyes for a second.

“Didn’t you have a Date?” Eddie speaks up again. First of all .. that was out of nowhere and second of all, what lie can you possibly tell to get him off your back. You definitely weren’t going to tell him the thought of him invaded your entire head and made you bail on the date. So you decided you weren’t going to lie but instead, avoid the question.

“Eddie I really think we should go to the cops. We both can’t stay here-”

“I’m not going to the cops Y/N. They’re going to blame me and I don’t want that. You can go. No one saw you.” He cuts you off, turning away from you a little. Feeling not so relaxed when you brought the police up.

“I can’t leave, my car is there and honestly I don’t want to go back to it- I’m a very curious person and I will most likely go into your trailer to see what happened so no” You huff, sitting back down and looking to him. “We’ll both wait here till I think of something.”

And you both waited. It’s about 2am and unfortunately you couldn’t think of a damn thing. Before you knew it, Eddie passed out from exhaustion. He had been crying for hours on end so you understood. You shortly crashed after him, body too tired from the 8-hour shift you worked and brain too fogged from the horror story eddie told. You’ll have to deal with your frantic mother later. You’re starting to realize this whole things is going to affect you too.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡

“Max we need to find Eddie, now!” Dustin exclaims, getting up and heading towards his bedroom door.

“Wait! There’s something else” Max started, shifting from foot to foot. “When Eddie ran out of his trailer there was some girl standing outside, they hugged- well he fell into her but- that’s not the point, she drove off in Eddie’s van. she left her car”

“Wait lemme get this straight, Eddie had two girls over?” Dustin was very confused. Last he knew it Eddie had no game so for him to have Chrissy Cunningham over and someone else, something is totally wrong.

“No! She pulled up after Eddie got there I think. Like I dunno 10 minutes or so, she had one of the shirts the employee’s wear at the arcade” She adds, frowning when Dustin’s face lit up.

“Y/N! Wait- wait so if y/n was with Eddie- then she had to have gone back to get her car. Right!? Right so let’s go see if she knows where he is!” He rambles, grabbing his backpack and walking out his room.

“No! No her car is still there- she didn’t come back. She’s gotta be hiding with Eddie” following him out the room, she caught up to his side.

“Okay then that means we’re looking for two people how great-” He grumbles, thinking for a second and looking back to max with wide eyes. “Oh shit- oh shit oh shit shit shit” running out the house, dismissing his mom off, with a very confused and agitated max on his heels.

“What are you saying oh shit for?! Spit it out!!!” She yells, pulling dustin back by his backpack.

“If Eddie’s name is with the cops, so is y/n’s, her car is there! This is very bad, COME ON” He yells, running to his bike, max already taking off on her skateboard.

* .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡ *:･ﾟ✧ ⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆ * .♡

You were getting tired of sitting around. Eddie was still asleep when you woke up and you were getting nervous. This was getting you nowhere and you were now positive your mom was going crazy. How the hell were you going to explain this? What even is there to explain?! Eddie’s story might be true but come on, no one in this dumbass town is going to believe that. And how was this happening again? First it was Nancy Wheeler’s best friend, Bob Newman who sometimes came and fixed the cameras in the arcade. Your fellow peers, who weren’t really your peers but it was still odd seeing “Remember us” poster’s around and annoying ass Jason Carver giving speeches at every recent pep rally. The saddest one, well sad for you…was possibly Chief Jim Hopper.

You used to help him around the precinct, not to fight crime or any of that bullshit but to help Flo with answering phones and such … in return get free donuts and attendance notes to get out of school. Hopper was a great man, he took you in after the tragic passing of your dad. Cared for you when your mother was to overcome by grief. You would be lying if you said you didn’t cry when you heard the news. Something just wasn’t right with Hawkins and you couldn’t wait for the day you got out of there. Now you could possibly leave Hawkins pretty soon … in the not-so-alive way. God you have got to find a way out of this.

You were too distracted by your thoughts to notice a groggy Eddie waking up and stretching. He was not too happy about sleeping on this busted ass couch. Not that his mattress is any better, but at least his bed had the perfect firmness he needed. He was having all kinds of kinks in his back. He groaning and exaggerated stretches caught your attention.

“Morning Eddie” You greet, turning to him slightly. “Feeling better?

“No. My back hurts and I just watched a girl die right in front of me” He says flatly, sitting up a little and rubbing the sleep out of his eye.

“I think I should go find some help. I could go get Dustin- or Mike!” You start, trying to think of some kind of plan instead of sitting around.

“Mike is in California and I’m pretty sure Dustin wouldn’t care where I was because he just saw me. He probably doesn’t even think I’m missing!” He exclaims, stand up and starting to pace.

“They probably think I’m crazy…they’re gonna hate me- they’re gonna pin this on me because I’m the fucking ‘freak of hawkin’s high’ … Eddie Munson goes off the rails killing Sweet Innocent cheerleader due to dungeons and dragons” He mega rambles, panicking- pacing faster after every sentence. He didn’t catch you getting up and flinched a little when he felt you grab his shoulders from pacing and turn him to you.

“Hey, you need to keep it together okay? I can’t have you freaking out on me. You’re right, they probably don’t know you’re missing but that’s a good thing, the cops don’t give out information, aka, suspects for cases until they’re certain you’re the guy. I can leave your van and start walking till I get to my friend’s house- she lives not too far from here and I can ask her for some hel-" You were cut off when you heard the gravel outside the house crack. Soon enough you started hearing voices and doors closing and you grabbed Eddie’s hand in an instant.

You dragged both of you out the back of the house and into the boat house a few yard behind the house.

“Think your plan’ll work out now? Hm?!” Eddie whisper shouts, terrified yet again.

“Just fucking- hide!” You slap his arm. You both look around like dumb idiots until you looked to the boat in the middle of the room. “Oh fuck it” You grimaces, Eddie getting in first and then helping you as fast as he could, throwing the tarp back over to cover you. Woah, you both really didn’t think this through because Eddie is very close and he is damn near laying on top of you. Fucking shit.

“I just don’t get why you think they could be here, it’s pretty obvious..” Steve states, walking closer to the door of the shed.

“If it’s obvious Steve, why are we here and not the cops? Hm?” Dustin quips back, sass lacing his tone. “Yknow im sick of you doubting me, it’s disheartening” He adds, opening the door and walking in.

“Im not doubting you doofus, it’s just- sometimes it’s okay to admit you’re wrong.” Steve finishes, holding the door for Robin and Max.

“Can you two shutup and stop with the bickering, we’ve got a task to do here” Max groans, starting to walk around the place looking for clues.

Okay this is exactly what you needed. Dustin was here! Steve and robin and Max who you don’t really know but you’ll be glad to meet her! If Eddie would fucking let you take the tarp off. As soon you heard their voices you wanted to jump out and hug your fave little freshman. Before you could you felt a tight squeeze on your wrist and your eyes landed on Eddie who had a hand up, holding a broken bottle. You were squinting as if You were saying “what the hell are you gonna do with that?” Because cmon, what could they possibly do to you guys. Other than help you. What didn’t help his paranoia was the fact Steve decided to poke the boat’s tarp. You could heard Dustin and Steve bickering again, every second the oar hit closer and closer to you and Eddie.

It all happened so damn fast. Eddie was jumping out the boat, pining a shaken steve to the wall with the broken bottle to his throat. Everyone were panicking, first for the jumpscare Eddie totally caused and the frantic pleas for him to not cut Steve’s throat they’re here to help!

“Eddie, calm down! They’re here for us! Just calm down” You reason, struggling to get out of the boat until max came over and helped. “Just put the bottle down and let Steve go alright?”

“Listen to Y/N, We’re cool! I swear on my mother!” Dustin promises, holding his hand out at Eddie. “Right guys?” You all agree in unison.

Eddie was shaking, glancing around the room. He was so conflicted because yes these were all familiar people but he is fucking terrified and the only person he could trust right now is you. Like yes unfortunately but he was certain you weren’t out to get him because one, you were there and two, you believed him. So after looking at you one more time for some reassurance he pushed Steve away. You immediately went up to him, putting a hand on his shoulder while he slightly stumbled back, sitting on the wooden table in there, staring at a blank spot.

Dustin slowly walked up to him, bending in front of him and glancing up at you sympathetically, looking back to Eddie, reaching to put down the hand that was still holding the broken bottle, nodding his head when Eddie flinched. “Okay, okay, we just wanna talk- we wanna know what happened” He says softly.

“See Eddie? It’s fine” You keep the tone dustin had, finally getting the bottle out of his grasp and putting it down, bending slightly next to Dustin. “Tell them like you told me”

“They won’t believe me” He sniffles, shaking his head and looking at you for a second. A sad, broken hint to his eyes.

“Try us” Max says, raising a brow and fixing the strap on her shoulder.

Eddie tears his eyes from yours, looking up at her and nodding, explaining to them the horrific, unbelievable story.

And that’s part 2! I hope you guys enjoyed. I have a lot of dialogue and I love dialogue bc I get to make Dustin and Steve do their bickering (one of my fave duos). You’ll learn more about the reader soon and I’ll be doing more for Eddie x reader in the next chapter, rn the plot kinda matters bc I want this fic to make sense to you guys, I’m loosely following st4 but I just hope I’m doing it right lol idk. But I’ll be starting up part 3 soon. Byeee

Taglist - @lily-sinclair-2006 @natashaashleymarvelromanoff @buckys2thicc

Creds to gif maker 🤍

[spacebatisluvd]

I don't usually post headcanons here. In part because I a) don't really have the kind of encyclopedic knowledge much of the fandom has in regards to the canon and b) because many of my headcanons don't fit with commonly accepted fanon.

But. I like this one. And I don't think I'll get to use it for anything anyway, so here. Have a headcanon.

I have always really liked to think that there's more truth to the story Hordak tells Entrapta and the story he tells himself than we give him credit for. Granted, there's something gratifying about him being completely unremarkable to Prime, only to find love and life and a name when he comes to Etheria.

But the story he tells has always bothered me. It seems like a plothole or a red herring the writers threw us, just to keep us from figuring out the ending. Character-wise, though, having Hordak be that wrong about his own origins bothers me. It means he's either delusional to a distressing degree or he's lying.

We know he doesn't lie. It isn't in his character and seems to be something he finds offensive to an extreme degree.

Personally, I'm not fond of the delusional angle. (And, listen, I'm not really interested in started a debate here. I'm sharing a headcanon and, as a part of that, sharing why the common fanon isn't for me. I'm not trying to disprove anyone else's headcanon or trying to say mine is better. I'm simply sharing a headcanon I personally enjoy, because I suspect there are others out there who might enjoy it too. Please don't try to debate me about this.)

So, here are my thoughts--

We know Prime's vessels are mortal. We see an old Prime clone in a tank. We also know Prime can possess any of his clones, at any time. He seems to prefer the Prime vessel, probably for the sake of visibly standing above his clones.

However, we're never really shown how those vessels are made. Maybe they're simply a variant of a clone, but...I think something a little more sinister might be going on.

I think Prime alters pre-existing clones to create his vessels. I think each of his vessels was once as capable of free will and free thought as any of Prime's other clones. I think they used to be individuals, but after altering their bodies to suit him, I think he takes them over so completely that their minds are essentially burned out of their brains. But I also think the procedure itself is slow, and he doesn't occupy them before their transformation is finished.

Now, you can imagine how he chooses to be as impersonal or as personal and traumatic as you like it to be. Same with the procedure itself.

For me, I think to think the procedure is a form of very extensive gene therapy. And I think that sometimes, it goes wrong. I don't think Hordak is the first clone to be selected, to be disabled by the process, and to be sent to die before he can become an "embarrassment".

This headcanon fixes Hordak's origin story for me--I can see how he might come up with that by blending his own perception (that he was important to Prime) and his attempts to explain to Entrapta using language Entrapta would be familiar with.

It also fits with what we know of Prime and how he regards his clones. It ups the horror factor--not that it needs to be upped; that's just something I enjoy--and also explains why Prime would keep Hordak after he's found on Etheria. I can see Prime wanting to study how he's been affected by the alterations, how the degeneration has progressed, etc. (Maybe because he keeps losing vessels and he doesn't know why. Maybe because he's just curious and Hordak's a fun science experiment for him.)

So, yeah. Free headcanon, if you want it. It's a bit too extensive for me to use in Intimacy Log, so I probably won't ever touch on it. But that's definitely the background headcanon I'm using.

[kinetic-elaboration]

March 10: Writing Project Statuses

So this wasn't the most productive/focused weekend I've ever had, but I feel like I ended it on a high note and I'm decently ready for next week. I think/hope. Plus now that the time has changed, it will be lighter for longer and I'll be able to stay out after work on Fridays if I want, which I think will help me feel more normal overall.

Current writing statuses:

Jasper/Monty Dual Timeline: Writing; wrote one more scene this weekend, leaving me with one scene/one writing session left. I really hope to finish this next weekend! The story doesn't excite me but the idea of having it be done and something I can post does!

D/J College AU: Writing; officially started it this weekend and I am legitimately excited! It's always weird to put down on the page something that's lived in your brain for a while... but the advantage is you get to re-read it. I feel pretty pleased with the first scene and hope I can continue next weekend.

Make a Lot of Money: Editing and Posting; I posted Ch4 on Friday but I haven't mentioned it on tumblr yet because I forgot. I'll do that tomorrow. The only comment I've gotten on it is someone requesting a totally different fic, which honestly makes me want to commit violent acts but--whatever. I just want it posted, I am so tired of the zombie nature of this fic. I still like it and am proud of it but I'm also done, mentally speaking. I've started editing Ch5, which is only 9k, and it's still my goal to get it up by the end of the month.

talk about timing in times like these: next up on the editing list, but I might take a break before I tackle it. It's actually shorter than I remembered--only about 14k I think--but I sort of feel it might be a slog... I don't know. I'm not really in a hurry to post anything other than the Time Loop and that's just because it's a WIP.

Miller/Bellamy Road Trip: Ch 1 is still next on the writing list, though I still don't feel confident in the vibes of it. I know I need to do a little more work at researching and immersing etc. I also keep changing my mind on the specifics of the very first setting so that's not great. It's coming up, though--it's what I plan to put into the slot currently occupied by the Jonty fic.

Free writes: I'm still working on my July Break Bingo prompts... I think I've done 8? Out of 25? It doesn't really matter; if I'm not getting prompts from there, I'll get them from somewhere else, but this is my current main source.

[yunshoto]

until we meet again

word count: 1.5k

genre: fluff, angst

yunho x reader

summary: "because you're the most beautiful flower here, i want to cherish you more. "

he's there, standing tall under a street lamp with his sheepish smile, watching you walk across the street. he had known you since last year's summer break as someone who frequently visits the park every thursday at 4 pm.

summer break

it's thursday, 3:50 pm, and it's summer break. yunho, a college student, aggressively tosses himself to the couch. he looked at his cracked screen phone, and he noticed how time had passed. he had been working on his music project with hongjoong since the beginning of the semester. 

"i guess i need some time to replenish my energy to make my brain work, " he mumbled whilst grabbing his car key and wallet. 

he walked downstairs and decided to stroll around the town. he thought hard about his music during his drive. after minutes had passed, he stopped at a coffee vendor near some park.

he took a sip of his coffee in his hand and sat by the bench. you were drawing a dress in your sketchbook. you worked at a boutique in town. you're so into your sketch as you didn't notice yunho, who occupied the seat next to you. 

"nice dress, is it for you? " he asked. 

you snapped from your sketchbook and coyly looked into his eyes. 

"i mean your drawing, not that your dress is ugly, it's pretty too, " he said. he smiled at you sheepishly. 

"oh, thank you, young man, " you smiled at him. "i drew them, " you claimed. "really? it's great. do you like to draw? " he asked. 

"i do, and i'm happy when I'm doing it, " you said while playing with your pencil. "what about you? do you have something that you like, too? " you shyly asked him. 

"i have something I love too, " he said. "i like to make music, and basically songs, " he answered. "for a fact,  i'm majoring in practical music, " he said gleefully. 

you took a glance at his eyes. it held a kind-puppy smile in it. it's beautiful like you've never seen before. he stared down at you and smiled. 

"do you want to grab something for-, " he got cut off because of your chimed phone. 

"sorry, i need to be home now. maybe next time i'll treat you a lunch? if we ever meet again, of course, " you said while looking at your phone as you gave him a smile.

"sure, maybe tomorrow? can i-, "

"great, i'll see you soon, " you packed your stuff and walked away to grab a taxi. 

a sad smile crossed yunho's face. 

"hey, what you're doing here? " a voice spoke to him. "oh, it's you. what brings you here? " yunho asked. 

he scoffed, "homework? what else do you expect? " he asked.

"i haven't finished my call, but since you're here, let's work this shit together, " yunho said. 

he looked at yunho with a frown. "okay, please, hongjoong, " yunho answered.

hongjoong and yunho were putting all-nighters for their homework 'til dawn. they're pretty much tired. hongjoong woke up first at 10 am. based on his own experience, he wouldn't dare to wake his friend up. yunho would be angry if someone woke him up so early. yunho only woke up due to the hunger in his stomach.

"so, who's the girl? " hongjoong asked.

"what  girl? " yunho laugh half-heartedly.

"let me guess. you didn't get her number, too? " hongjoong replied.

"shut up, fucker, " yunho stretched his back. 

"you're the one who didn't have any balls to ask her first, dumbass, " hongjoong laugh sheepishly.

they took yunho's car and went to the nearest cafe for brunch. yunho was lazy enough to cook for two. he hadn't bought any food supplies either. "one croissant and iced chocolate chip frappe, please, "

yunho stared at the cashier while he held the door for hongjoong as his body startled. hongjoong, who noticed it, glanced back at the cashier too. he saw you. you were picking up your order, and as soon as you turned your body around, you saw him. you smiled at him timidly.

"hi, come here, " you invite them to your seat.

"good morning, beautiful, " yunho said coyly. your cheeks blushed the reddest shade of red.

"i didn't get a chance to introduce myself yesterday. hi, i'm (y/n), " you said. 

"hi, (y/n), i'm yunho. this is my friend, hongjoong, " yunho answered.

"well, yunho and hongjoong, do you want anything to order? it's my treat, " you offered with a faint smile on your face.

and that's how the whole summer break went by. yunho had developed his feelings towards you. and he's certain that you have feelings for him too. especially during the fireworks festival, when your hand and his brushed. it would be a lie if you didn't have your stomach swooped every now and then. 

how he hugged you one night when you were crying in the park alone. or the time he bought you a bucket of ice cream just to make you smile when someone stole your design. it would be a lie if you didn't fall for him, right? 

it would be a lie if you didn't blushed your cheeks when he pecked your forehead. 

well, here we are. 

yunho's lingering eyes into your figure at the park. you were early and alone at the park again. "hi, can i take this seat? " you gasped. you met his eyes with your gazed. you smiled at him as he brought you a bouquet of flowers. 

"it's beautiful, isn't it? " he chirped with his puppy-like eyes visible to you.

"yes, it's beautiful. thank you, yunho, " you said.

"you're welcome, " he strokes your cheek. 

"so, what's the occasion for this? " you asked bubbly.

"nothing, i just want to show you beautiful things, " he replied.

"yunho, do you want to know something? " you asked. "sure. what is it all about?" he tilted his head at you.

"you know, right? that we can't ever be together, " you speak softly. his eyes held so much confusion.

"did you almost forget?" you asked.

"no, (y/n). we're not going to talk about this, " he replied.

"you know, during my last time, i heard your confession, " you said.

"you confessed to me, " you look down at your feet and rock them back and forth.

"and i think i know why you keep seeing me after a year it passed, " he looked at you with a painful smile. 

"it's because i haven't given you my reply, right? " you asked. 

"my answer is no, " you said with a stern look in your eyes. "i want you to be happy, find someone else other than me, " you proceed. "look at this beautiful park filled with beautiful flowers. you will find one that you cherish the most sooner or later, " you claimed. 

"it's not that i don't want you when i desperately want you, " your tears threatening to leave your eyes. "but we're-, " he cuts you off.

"stop it, " he said. his hands are trembling. iI'm okay with us being like this. i'm happy with this, " he bites his lower lip. "don't you understand? because you're the most beautiful flower here, i want to cherish you more. because we both know, the only time i could meet you is here, " he couldn't handle the tears and cry. 

"it has been a year since you confessed, and in that time, i believed in what we call true love, " you looked up at him. your eyes filled with faint woes. your hands slowly cupped his cheeks and caressed them with your thumb.

"i'm grateful we met. i'm happy when i'm with you, " you said. you take a deep breath and smile at him. "i won't leave you, but we can't see each other again, " you daintily said. "we're two worlds apart, "

yunho bit his lower lip, teary-eyed, and couldn't help himself to hug you. "yunho, it's okay. please be happy with your life. do everything that makes you happy. you deserve it, "

"what's the point of being happy? i'm all alone here, " he said. you brushed his hair and said, "you're not alone, yunho. i'll be there for you, "

"please, (y/n), even if my body can't reach out to you, please stay with me until the day we'll meet again, " he said. "yunho, you have my heart with you, "

"come on now, stop your cries, " you said. "go get ready for your graduation. be happy. don't worry about me because i'm going to be here, always, " you said softly. 

he was getting ready for his graduation. "this marked a year after the traffic accident that killed 12 people, " the news anchor said. yunho turned the tv off. He went to his campus for his graduation ceremony. 

"(y/n), i have graduated. wait for me, okay? let's be happy in our own world. until we meet again, (y/n), " yunho put down a bouquet of flowers and caressed your stone name. 

wind whiffles through his ears, and it sounds like you were saying, "i love you, always, " to him as words of comfort, which he replied with, "i love you, eternally, " 

[lale-txt]

what’s your favorite piece you’ve written?

aww i saw a few writers getting asked this today! cute question, i had fun thinking about this. i was surprised about how many things i have forgotten and how much i still liked even older stuff? in the past i used to die of shame like half an hour after finishing a piece, nowadays i allow myself to be a little proud of my work (ﾉ´ヮ`)ﾉ*: ･ﾟ i went a bit extra and in detail with my answer oop-

for fluff, i'd say:

birthday letters to Rayleigh ↳ writing Rayleigh is always so bittersweet and this one has it all. i really wanted to come up with something for his birthday because i love this silly fictional man and i think i did him justice <3

confessing while thinking the other one is asleep w/ Roger ↳ i was down bad for Roger but i think writing this made me down even... badder? i loved writing the interaction with the whole crew before it's just reader & Roger. need him to kiss me really bad.

"you owe me a kiss" w/ Thatch ↳ oh bread man. another one in the "need a kiss from him now or else i cry" department. it was fun spinning a story around this prompt and trying to catch his charm!

Flowers w/ Rayleigh ↳ another bittersweet Rayleigh! i saw the whole thing very vividly in front of my eyes and tried to grasp it with words.

comforting their lover on a bad day w/ Roger & Rayleigh ↳ great thing about being a writer is that you can write your own comfort pieces against the blues. it really helped and i love describing those soft little moments where nothing much is happening but you can still feel all the love.

and for smut:

sexual tension while tending his wounds w/ Kid ↳ this was the very first time writing Kid properly for me and possibly the moment i stepped foot into Kid simping hell. i haven't escaped ever since.

"i haven't even touched you and you're already this wet." w/ Sabo ↳ need the unhinged little man to rail me in semi-public okay

loving him all night long w/ Denjiro ↳ do you know the feeling when you want to read a fic about your unpopular side character and can't find any? especially in the smut department? that's how this fic was born lmao. kiss me shrimp man.

undercover w/ Law ↳ this fic has been occupying my brain for over a week. like the prompt was so fun and i wanted to do it justice and then kinda just... ran with it. always the best fics if you ask me.

one night with Kaido & Yamato's babysitter ↳ ahh, yes. the forbidden dilf. i've been joking so long about never being able to write Kaido smut but i guess someone had to? now here we are and i think it's so much fun. thinking about doing a sequel actually and i loooved reading all the comments and tags on this! really said 'pspspsps' to all Kaido fuckers and the ones in denial.

and for headcanons and stuff like that:

their recent search history ↳ because sometimes i'm really funny

giving them a booty call (nsfw) ↳ again, because sometimes i'm really funny

reacting to you not wearing panties in public (nsfw) ↳ always exposing myself in my smut pieces and this was not an exception. many little drabbles were born from this one too and i'm still not tired of this concept.

sex accident headcanons w/ Rayleigh (nsfw) ↳ oh, Rayleigh. horny old man. i love you.

Whitebeard Pirates: online dating headcanons ↳ those were born on a very long train ride and had a few sequels also, i really love all of them so much

[jgcm2003]

episode one

I’ve recently become a human being capable of reflection, but only just recently. For many chaotic years, I wasn’t. Every memory I had was tinted by biased opinions, beliefs, and more often than not, embarrassment. Looking back on my entire life, it’s pretty tricky for me to point at one memory specifically and say I value it any more than any other experience. There’s nothing I wish I had done, nothing I wish hadn’t happened to me, and nothing I would alter in any way. The triumphant highs followed by agonizing lows, the ignorant fearlessness towards my surroundings juxtaposed with the overwhelming fear of the people that resided in them; they’re all experiences I find invaluable, crucial to the way I am right now and the way I have been. 

My experiences dictate the places my feet take me, the words my mouth chooses to say, and they provide me with the filter through which I witness the world. They’ve all led me to this moment, right here, right now. The sole inhabitant of a desolate island— trying to illustrate something invisible, trying to comprehend the incomprehensible, looking in the rearview mirror, but only briefly— my eyes will eventually find their way back to the road ahead. 

These experiences are the core of our very existence, and today they’ve led me to this table where I’ll write for a little while. I’ve grown to be immensely grateful for the fact I’ve been given the ability to sit down and write. It’s calming, it’s problem-solving, and it’s evolved into anything I need it to be. For this reason, I believe writing has become the most reliable friend I have. Perhaps the paper is just forced to listen to everything I say, but I like to think it may appreciate me and my brain sometimes. After all, it’s something to occupy its blankness even if it’s just the ramblings of a 19 year old boy. 

Of course, I want to look back and see something I can be proud of, but that’s simply not the case. I simply wasn’t ready to reflect honestly then. I wasn’t ready to accept the pain and discomfort of positive change, let alone the disappointment that comes with the realization that I was living the wrong way and I needed to grow. Yet I was so depressed for so long due to that unwillingness. My brain, my attitude, and my behavior were all screaming at me, trying to get me to admit something was wrong, yet I was so out of tune with reality that I didn’t seem to hear them. When I briefly did hear them, I didn’t seem to be able to care for very long. 

I vividly remember those times when life felt like more of a burden than much of anything else. I lived a very pessimistic life, void of any hope. This was a learned outlook on life. Given what the universe dealt me, I developed the awful habit of focusing on the inevitable end of everything that surrounded me. Any beautiful moment would turn melancholic almost instantly when the thought of its impending departure crept into my mind. It was the temporariness of it all that got me, and man, it got me good. A nice day ended was always ended with nightfall, falling in love always ended in turmoil, and being alive could end whenever, however. All were extremely valuable and necessary, yet all were far too temporary for my liking. Especially death— that freaked me out. 

When I was younger, death seemed to chase me around every corner, down every road, and occasionally when I was too tired to keep running it looked me square in the eyes. Sometimes death even mocked me with its cold and unforgiving existence. I learned that death will be completely okay with suddenly cutting me off mid-sentence one day. It won’t let me finish a book, a song, or even a thought. It’ll cut me off and kill me on its own time, not my time. 

When I was 15, death caught up to my dad while he was completely alone, living in YMCA housing. I had been aware of death before, but that’s when I first realized how final it all really was. Life had never seemed so temporary. It felt like a cruel joke, the man I grew up with was instantly turned into nothing but a bunch of unwelcome memories. Someone so prominent in my life, so real was now so gone. 

Death cut him off at the lowest point in his life. My mom and other people tell me that at that point, there was no way he was getting out of that. I know they’re right but a piece of me, the piece of me that loves him still, thinks maybe he could’ve seen the light and recovered. We’ll never know for certain because he couldn’t run any longer, and death caught up. 

Regardless of the pain it caused me, I never understood more that my days were numbered. Everyone around me, everything around me, their days were numbered as well. Everything I felt would eventually be nothing but an abyss trapped inside of my corpse, burned to ash, or buried beneath the dirt on private land. Almost instantly upon the death of my dad, I was firmly gripped by the notion that nothing this existence had to offer me mattered all that much. It crept into my brain, my heart, and in turn my behavior. If my own father had lost his race with death in such a manner, then why should I expect anything more? Why would I set myself up for failure with any sort of optimism? The simple answer to me back then was that I wouldn’t.

For years I took that nihilistic approach to life. I became extremely complacent in my growth as a human being. I was utterly indifferent toward whatever lay ahead, I figured it was nothing anyways. I took a back seat to my impulses in search of something to drag me out of the deep emptiness I was feeling. I felt like I was right to think the way I did, and the mental anguish was just a nasty side-effect of the reality of life and impending death. It never dawned on me that the feelings had been coming from a place of rejection— that maybe I was right but the way I was responding was extremely wrong.

I was in a Costco parking lot when it finally broke through to me. This wasn’t the path I needed to follow. Maybe if I just allowed myself to admit I’d been wrong, I could take a step forward and get out of this rut I had been stuck in for so many years. Upon realizing this I felt this resounding feeling of dread, I knew at that moment more than ever I had missed out on really enjoying life for what it was. I didn’t really appreciate anything. Of course, bad things had happened but I had opted to choose a simpler route in response to those bad things rather than face them head-on and grow. I had so much, so many possessions, so many friends, and so many people who cared for me deeply. I was a Division 1 football player, I had a nice car, and I had so many Instagram followers and so much attention. I could’ve been more and everyone knew it. They’d remind me of this in our interactions, when my report cards would come back, and when I stopped to really look at myself for a moment. I had so much, yet I was completely and utterly empty. I was one of the worst possible versions of myself. I had been treating so many people the wrong way, I had been treating myself the wrong way. I hated myself so much for this in that Costco parking lot. 

It was one of the hardest hours or so of my life in that spot, yet one that I remember as one of the most important because in that hour I let myself be subject to the pain I deserved. In response to that pain, I decided to change my life for the better. While it completely sucked, that pain killed some of the parts of me I despised. Those parts of me I hated died but were reincarnated as the pieces of me I sit here reflecting on today. In response to that hour the past few months have been more fulfilling than any other period of time I’ve really ever had in my life before. 

Even so, I didn’t really know how I’d improve. I stood before a mountain of things I needed to work on, the summit so high I couldn’t even see it. I didn’t even know if I should believe in this summit. I stared at this mountain for an hour, occasionally falling victim to some of my own doubt. Jonah Hill’s therapist Phil Stuz refers to this doubt as Part X. It’s the factor in each of us that makes growth and change feel impossible in the face of adversity. It’s the aspect of ourselves that we recognize as a fixed limitation. It saw me staring at the top and tried to keep me on the ground by offering shitty advice such as You know you’re going to wind up back down here right beside me or How many times have you done this, tried to better yourself to no avail? Why even try? 

Yet for the first time in a very long time, I felt a resounding sense of hope that if I ignored him for at least a little while and started to climb, maybe I’d reach certain spots on this mountain where I could rest for a while rather than climb back down. So I began my ascension into the unknown for yet another try, but the first real-time in my life. I’d seen my father completely fall victim to his Part X. It took control of his body, his mind, and his actions. It led him down a road of delusion, unnecessary discomfort, and immense pain. He never tried to climb his mountain, all of his efforts went into searching for ways around it or through it. It did nothing for him but kill him. 

At first, it was the seemingly small patterns of behavior such as maintaining a clean room, writing in a planner every day, or attempting to tell the truth regardless of the outcome, even when it was hard to find. These were simple changes in my life all meant to at least make my life a bit more simple. The organization of life around me was the fuel I needed to generate the first framework of guidelines by which I wanted to exist. It helps me recognize Part-x for what he is, a figment of my imagination; one that will never go away in his quest for my company on the ground, but one that can be beaten by my persistent action in response to the world around me and my own inward reflection. I’ll fall victim to Part X at times because everyone does, but because of my climb at least, I’ll have somewhere more peaceful than the ground to rest. The view of the world is much better from these places than it’s ever been before. 

I’m going to document this climb here, through videos and these short memoirs, and see how far I can climb. It’ll change and grow as I do- forgive the first video's seemingly directionless premise, and my complete ramblings in this. I hope to improve with both filmography and writing, my favorite two ways of expressing myself. I want the reader or watcher to know that as much as this is for me, it’s for them because I thoroughly believe if I’m capable of realizing this, then so are you. With death making its way towards me and everyone, with Part X living within me and everyone, I now know this for certain; if I’m going to become the person I want to be, then I’ll need to start my climb now. 

I’m 19 years, 4 months, and 25 days old, about to leave high school, and I have been gifted with the ability to reflect. It would be a waste if I didn’t use it to grow as a human being as I make my way into adulthood. 

[clarkresse]

August 15; Still In San Fernando

It was a little past midnight when I woke up. I've only slept since I arrived at the Sta. Clara Inn. As if all the panic and anticipation of the worst things exited my body after I kicked off my shoes and dropped into the bed.

Maybe also because in the days leading up to my departure, I paced all night and occupied each minute trying not to think of coming back home to this town.

As soon as I was awake, without even cleaning sleep from my eyes, I prioritized my hunger.

Small town so there are not many restaurants or fast food chains open. There's only one convenience store and that's where most of my friends and I used to go to. And I thought, "It's been nearly a decade they should have found a different place now' or 'It's late and they probably know how to cook now, they wouldn't be there'.

I shouldn't have let my brain which hadn't been delivered with nutrients from my stomach make decisions. The brain will rebel against sanity when hungry.

Someone called out to me. I was about to act like I didn't hear it or pretend to be someone else entirely. But my body betrays me.

Really should have fed my body more.

I turned my head. Lucas seemed like he'd just gotten off work. Buttons are undone and the sleeves rolled up of his white shirt. A police badge shined on his chest.

He said my name again and I awkwardly raise one side of my lip and shrugged my shoulder. "Hi"

Lucas: You're really back Me: I think you know why Lucas: Oh yes. I... I'm sorry. I should have Me: Don't worry about it.It happens

It's cold and he doesn't seem surprised. Makes me wonder if I was really like this.

I got my cold pre-packaged burger, cup ramen, and a can of coke. He was there for cigarettes.

We weren't close in high school. We had each other's numbers and spoke casually in the hallway. We only hang out when Rowena and the others were around. Aside from that, we were acquaintances. However, after I left, he sent emails to me for days before the ... other funeral.

I took big bites of my burger and gulped down my ramen and coke. I may have choked a few times. But I wanted to finish my food and leave. I wasn't ready to meet anyone yet.

But he waited before he spoke and as if sensing my panic, he made it quick.

He asked if I was staying in my old house. Then asked if anyone from the morgue has called me yet. Then when did I get here. Then if I was okay.

Santa Clara Inn. I haven't checked my phone. This morning. I'm okay.

Quick answers to tell make sure he knows I don't want to talk. Out of all the people in this town, he knows how to read the atmosphere. But then he suggested he'd pick me up from the inn in the morning so he could take me to the morgue. I'm about to pull my hair out.

.

.

.

.

.

He'd been waiting in the inn since 6am. The innkeeper said he didn't want to let me know because I was up late and probably need more sleep before this dreaded day where I have to confirm with my own eyes the body in the morgue is indeed Rowena.

We were quiet in the drive. He was still wearing his clothes from last night but poured a bunch of scents on him to mask whatever he was trying to hide.

Then we were at the morgue. He did all the speaking for me. Making me focus on everyone else staring at me. Pitying looks for me who lost someone.

Lucas stayed at the door with an attendant.

The body was in a cold drawer. The sheet pulled out to uncover the face. Pale and stiff...and... yeah, it was Rowena.

I sighed. Yeah, part of me really didn't want this to be true. that maybe, even in the small town where everyone knows you, they made a mistake in identifying the body. That maybe something happened to her face that they couldn't be so sure. And maybe it wasn't her. But it's her. It's really her.

Stupid bitch. Whatever it was that got you here, you should have known better that it wasn't worth it.

I know. I'm horrible. But that's what I'm really feeling. It happens. And there's nothing I can do about it. I can just accept it now and give her a proper sendoff.

After that, I could remember what happened next. Lucas and I talked for a while and I don't remember much of it. I just went to the convenience store and just grabbed some snacks before going back to the inn.

Now I'm googling how to plan a funeral cause I don't know how to do this shit. She was really a dumb bitch for trusting me with this.

A dumb, selfish bitch...

Next Chapter:

Start here:

[kdipshit]

Well I Got The Thing I Needed, I Guess…

I have to learn to do everything my own way, as doing something with someone else’s perspective is just not possible. I have to be difficult all the time huh…

My body stays the same even tho it feels like my brain switches. Perspectives change. Beliefs. Realisations. Like the person I was 1 hour ago was dark and gloomy and quick to anger. irritated. But BPD irritation. I wanted to turn into a tornado and rip thru my entire house taking everyone up in it. Lol. Jk. But fr… and the person I am now is nothing like that. I don’t even think that way at all, why would I even want to it sounds like a war zone over there. Lets remember the parts of ourselves that occupy the body when the body is feeling so dark. She’s still us. Thats still me. Lol how do I say that? Im still me. Thats better. Im so sick of these walls in my brain keeping me from the other sides of myself, I can’t stay in the dark space for very long without scratching my way out. And its painful. Am I supposed to stay in that feeling until it passes? Coz sometimes it feels like it doesn’t fucking end, so I grab my bong and then I’m better. But weed is limited. Sometimes I think ill be better if I was just on the right meds. Im still very upset about my psych trip. And it makes me feel so discouraged to even continue trying…. But. I will keep trying. As long as I have weed to lean on, I’m straight as. But I’m not ignoring the darkness by trying to feel better. I can look at it in another perspective. I gotta do better. I gotta do better. The bruised knuckles do give me character tho. I should message A more quickly next time, she really did an amazing job at switching my perspective, its like she knows exactly how to talk to me. Im so grateful.

+ the weed makes me write better. Its easier to write down the thoughts… I found myself sounding like my hippie ass aunty telling my little sister that thoughts become things lol. Its such a shame that I’m actually crazy because no one really believes me lol. thoughts do become things tho, she was right, I just didn’t see the bigger picture, and I guess no one ever really will until they can for themselves. THANK YOU FOR PAIN. You give your shadow self love by learning how to thank the pain, and the hard journey, and the sleepless nights and teary eyes. Learning better methods, keeping yourself out of thought loops by treating every single day as brand new. Realising no ones got a problem with me lol. Im not a problematic person.

anyways…. Whats been going on wed chyall? Lol imagine all that trauma dumping and then I sip my tea. Your turn aunty. I’m always trine rush finish something because the act of doing something for too long freaks me out. Thats gotta be that ADHD hoe, which will be fixed if I fkn get my right meds bro wtf!!! D: like so much of my problems would be fixed if I just had the fun goddamn meds Jesus FUCK. Is it that hard around here? They think imma pill popper bro won’t even give me valium anymore, dogs. No fkn wonder why I’m smoking like smokey mother fucker, my shits al the way fucked up my boy. Give me the fucking pills lmaoooo. And up them anti-psychotics while your at it lmaoooo.

Does anyone else have conversations with other people in your head? Thats a normal thing right? Well the convos in my head are too quick to for me to write down, but they be having me fucked up on some different shit. I just did it, I just stopped a bad thought for manifesting bigger and replaced it with a better one AS SOON as it appeared. Sometimes I’m not quick enough and it catches me instead. I sat with myself today, I don’t even remember what I wrote in the ideation one. But I remember what mindset I was in, I’m curious to see how honest with myself I was. I can be honest with myself right now and day I don’t think I did good enough. There were times where I was thinking I really don’t wanna do this anymore. I forgot what I needed to remember, which was to redirect all go those feelings into positive ones, I know these things, but at some point, every emotion on peak feels the same, so I was historically crying on the way home, recklessly, because I forgot to remind myself, to switch the thought, look at everything else thats good, and setback or something super annoying happening is because your energy is needed elsewhere!! Butterfly effect, nothing in the end is bad. Its just a redirection, stop being so controlling, and let it be, let it flow, while you only control yourself, your reactions and your thoughts. Thoughts determine emotions, and emotions are my kryptonite.

The problem is my thought patter, and how it recycles the same 10-30 sentences over and over again. Some fkn crazy delulu, some that genuinely make sense cuz, and then the same normal other shit, right???? lol. Idk what I’m saying anymore but sometimes I ramble write (all the time) and I read it back and its dope as fuck and I actually make sense.

My poor knuckles are busted all because I knocked and no one answered. Well nah fuck, it was that, and then it was the non answered door last week too, its the non answered phone calls its the non answered emails like broooo. Should not be this hard to see a psychiatrist in my city I swear to god. Without weed I’m completely self destructive, I need to build my strength on my other positive coping mechanisms because typing really hurts. And I love to write. Self destructive me is very overwhelmed and unsure how to untangle everything so everything comes out as a big fat cry.