#time to write the pain away

[calamitouskings]

as a binger, i'm very selective of ongoing fics i'm subscribed to.

some fics make me grin when i get an update email, and when i finish the update, i beam and nod and happily go about my day thinking about blorbos being happy / horny / on their way to poundtown.

some fics make me go, "oh fuck oh goD IT'S HAPPENING IT'S HAPPENING" and i read it (with breaks in between bc FUCK IT'S RLLY HAPPENING) and once i'm done, i have to lay in bed and stare at the ceiling for an hour bc it's so painful. great update, but ow, damn, these splinters to the heart. jesus fuck. can't wait for more pain. haha. haha.

[createandconstruct]

Thinking about Peter's absolute cry of anguish after the final boss battle when he finds Harry unresponsive. Thinking about how all he can say is I'm sorry. Thinking about the fact that in Peter's head it was him at May's side sobbing I'm sorry. Thinking about how "with great power comes great responsibility" can never be separated from the guilt Peter feels. Thinking about how that guilt extends to May. How it extends to Ben. How it cripples Peter so much that he tells Miles that he can't do this again. Thinking about Peter's voice as he'd begged Harry to fight - pleaded with him to not make him do this. Thinking about how when consumed with the symbiote Peter had screeched out I'm the hero, I don't get saved! Thinking about how that's not just pride, how that's not just responsibility, how it's guilt. How it's always been Peter and the weight of the world, the life of his loved ones, and their blood on his hands. And now it's Harry's and Peter just breaks. Always the hero, he's done the right thing, but this time it's the last straw. His best friend. The last sacrifice Peter Parker can take...

...and it's then... that Miles saves him.

[gifti3]

i graduated years ago i shouldnt have to do this...!!!!

[mochinon-yah]

— YOUR LOVE.

(Alhaitham x Reader)

Your love was as passionate as the golden light shining through the open windows as you and your lover both lovingly look at each other in the morning. It was like this every single day. No amount of anger, fights, and pettiness could dissolve such wondrous moment from both of your life. You loved him, and he did too. He alone believed that it was an unbreakable fact.

He also remembered how much you loved every other little things in the world. The way your eyes would shine brightly at the sight of a cat. Your cat, to be exact. You always said that its grey fur reminded you of him, even the cat's stoic-like personality was similar to him as well. It was funny, really. He never liked it when people speak nonsense, just like what you did then, but oh boy, did he fell deeper in love with you after you said that. It was truly funny. Love had always been such a foreign concept, yet he tried to learn it as best as he could. He wanted to love you as much as you do to him. But with you now gone, who will be the one to teach him?

He can't let another have a go through his heart. You were already enough. It was only you who could fill that empty abyss of a heart. Knowing that there was no way of bringing you back, he fell into a lonely road of remembrance. He missed you all too well. He missed you every time his consciousness returned after being woken up from his slumber. He missed you. Your warm embrace was now left with him only trying to gain warmth from the sun's light.

From the start of the morning till the end of the moon shining, he missed you. It was just you, you, and you in his mind.

You just loved too much, and it hurts him. The blues, the greens, the greys, and even him. He, who you said was one of the most insufferable men that you've known, was loved by such a charming person. He was loved by none other than you. So, with you now gone, he couldn't quite imagine how hard the pain would inflict itself on him. Ironically enough, it went beyond the imagined.

Maybe that was why he stayed coop up inside his house after the announcement of your death. Maybe that was why all the mirrors inside his house was thrown away into the storage room. Maybe that was why he couldn't look at himself normally anymore. He, himself, reminded him of you. The way you would always compliment his cat-like eyes, his grey hair, and his cold yet warm approach made him stayed in that particular past—not wanting to move into a future where you did not exist. He did not want to exist.

All he wanted now was to be by your side, yet that was impossible. After all, he promised you. He promised to live well, even if you were gone now.

"I tried to live as best as I could, love, but it's hard. With you gone, I feel like the whole world has stopped working too. It was all too sudden, and I was forced to try and accept it. But, I just can't. Now, I'm sitting here on our old couch, looking through the window as the light of the sun hits me once again. Yet, there's something missing. After looking around, i found the problem. It's you, my dear. You are not in my arms, and it pains me to realise that. I cannot live without you, but you made me promise that exact reality. I have to go on living in this pathetic world with you not in it. Ah... I miss you, love, and I miss your love."

- Alhaitham, your beloved.

[beebopboom]

Imagine them meeting in front of the stars again - either in space or looking out on a night sky

Imagine Crowley realizing that Earth and its humanity was too important to leave behind

Imagine Aziraphale seeing that Crowley was not as happy as he remembers him to be in front of his stars

"I wanted to give this back to you” “they aren’t the ones that left me”

Imagine Aziraphale realizing that Crowley never needed his stars back - he just needed him

Imagine getting a parallel to the “look at you. You're gorgeous.” line

[uhbasicallyjustmilex]

current editing moodboard, please send help

[irenespring]

Me: I'm going to get back into writing fanfiction for a fun creative writing outlet, while I work on other humanities and social sciences in classwork :) Also me: Has now read at least one official medical study, multiple interest/support group and government reports, and several online testimonials re: House's possible amputation vs. non-narcotic pain treatments sans amputation, and now has a pretty good mental chart going of decidedly STEM things.

I have been tricked into researching STEM. Creative writing has betrayed me.

[haunted-xander]

Thinking about the parallels between Riku losing himself to darkness because he (believed) his life-long friendship had been broken and replaced and Terra losing himself to darkness because he wanted to protect his friends/friendship more than anything else

[lightasthesun]

Nothing ever cost me as much in life as loving you did and yet, still, I do.

- excerpt from Ben Kenobi's diary.

[actual-changeling]

if you do not follow/haven't seen my recent posts, i really recommend you read this one and this one before continuing, just to make it hit the right way.

also reminder that i have an ao3 right here (and it's not all pain, promise!)

sorry in advance :)

-

the more time passes, the easier it is for joel to talk about sarah. it still hurts, always will, an old bullet buried in his heart surrounded by scar tissue, but except for a few memories, words don't make him bleed anymore. tommy tentatively starts bringing her up once he notices that joel no longer flinches when he mentions her name, and it feels good to breathe life into their shared experiences, his brother the only one who comes close to understanding his pain but also the joy that colored their years.

ellie asks, too, just as hesitantly as tommy at first, but soon her curiosity takes over and not a day passes by without a question in-between sentences about his past. joel answers all of them, stories spilling from his lips and spinning themselves into a sarah-shaped web that he can share with her.

"she played soccer, right? when did she win her first competition?"

there's a few sports teams in jackson, and of course the soccer one caught her eye, making joel dread all the twisted ankles and bruised shins he was going to have to tend to. getting grass stains out of sarah's uniforms had always been a task and a half, and eventually they both stopped caring about it and just watched them pile up, turning white fabric a greenish-brown.

joel opens his mouth, the coffee cup in his hand hovering above the kitchen table, and then he stills, every muscle in his body turning to ice.

ellie's joel? is drowned out by the ringing in his hears, knuckles turning white and gripping the porcelain so tightly he can feel it crack in his palm, and he must have stopped breathing because his vision is growing fuzzy, black dots scurrying in his periphery.

joel lets the cup fall more than he sets it down, stomach turning, bile rising in his throat, because ellie asked him a question about sarah, his sarah, and he doesn't remember the answer.

it can't be, right? just a small gap in his memory, nothing big, it'll come back to him in an hour and he'll tell ellie about it later. but the panic squeezing his chest is real, terror slithering up his neck and curling around his ear whispering what else did you forget?

more than ever before, he tries to think back to all of it, from the first time he held her in his arms to the moment he buried her, and something odd happens to him when he finds that so much of it is. blurry. frayed at the edges, burned holes and white blotches obscuring important and unimportant details alike, memory an old role of film decomposing in the back of his mind.

the color of her baby blanket (blue, it had to be blue, he can't see), the first movie he watched with her, her favorite book in primary school, the way he did her hair on the first day of kindergarten, the friendship bracelets they made together, the posters on her wall, the dress she wore to her first dance (purple right? right?), memories surfacing as his panic cracks him open like an earthquake, and joel tries to cling to them, nails scratching at the parts that should be there but aren't until he tastes blood, desperation growing and growing because he is forgetting her.

"joel you're scaring the fuck out of me right now what's wrong?"

ellie's voice is distant, and he hates worrying her, hates the almost hysteric edge beneath it when she repeats herself, hands squeezing his shoulders, softly, first, then harder when he doesn't respond. all of the years that he didn't even know she existed, memories she has that he never will, all the firsts and buts and what ifs and failures that define a childhood, their innocent light fractured into vivid fantasies by the stained glass window of life. he has had all that and more with sarah, clung to it in the after to remind himself that she is real, that he is still a father even with his daughter buried by a nameless river.

it is all he has left of her, the childhood she never got to outgrow, and it's fading in a mind that has mourned her for longer than she got exist.

not for the first time, joel wishes he hadn't flinched, his brain worthless if it allowed sarah to fade away. without ellie bound to his heart, he would have tempted fate again for that alone.

-

"who hurt you" too many people to count and luckily tumblr lets me make it everyones problem

[buck2eddie]

fic moodboard inspired by into the fire by @gayhoediaz

Buck thinks he could be drenched in gasoline and lit on fire, and it wouldn’t make a difference - he wouldn’t know - he’s already there; they’re it. Their bodies together. Them together.

After all, this is what a fire is - it’s what a fire does. It doesn’t matter how controlled it is, or how contained - a fireplace, or even a harmless, small candle flame - all it takes is one mistake - one misstep - and it devours everything in its path with ruthless enthusiasm.

[h0estar]

dawg, one thing abt me is that i've always been an advocate for yukine and yato's happiness.... so i'm just curious.... WHEN EXACTLY WILL ADATCHITOKA PAY FOR THEIR CRIMES AGAINST THIS KID AND HIS SILLY SELF-PROCLAIMED DAD 😭 LET MY BOYS REST MAN DAMN

[forcedhesitation]

*wheeze* slowly, but surely, working on art of them all

[izuris]

yeah this is my art piece it's called "oh my god it sucks so bad" enjoy

[bmpmp3]

i do think its kinda funny when i see someone in the year of our lord 2024 talk about vocal synth music like its all gone downhill since like 2010 because like dont get me wrong i love a good niconicodouga-ass 2008 ass vocaloid joint BUT also like. the past couple years have had the most fascinatingly creative and expressive uses of vocal synthesizers ive ever heard in my life DJFSKHJDFS dont write it all off just yet!!

[silenthillbunni]

🐰💬