#you just can't unhear them anymore

[koumeowkami]

"paralive second season songs are weaker than season one's" NOT when hit em up exists. everytime i listen to it i find a new aspect in the instrumental and it's simply amazing

[leclerc-s]

a nonsense christmas

series masterlist

liked by maxverstappen1, nataliaruiz, arthur_leclerc and others

maejones 'i caught that holiday glee, my true love gave it to me.' i present to you a nonsense christmas.

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danielricciardo i thought you couldn't get anymore unhinged after nonsense, i was so wrong.

daphnejones mae, what the hell is this song.

↳ maejones it's a christmas song daph! do you not like it?

isabellaperez brb gonna go play it for christian and my uncle!

↳ maxverstappen1 ISABELLA DON'T YOU DARE!

↳ isabellaperez OH IT LOOKS LIKE JOS IS IN THE GARAGE!

↳ maxverstappen1 ISABELLA!

↳ user89 oh to be apart of this friend group

penelopetrevino sometimes i wonder how people think i'm the horny one when mae writes shit like this.

↳ dulceperez you wrote mayores. daphne wrote dress. mae wrote nonsense. i think all three of you are equally horny

user41 well i made the mistake of playing this infront of my parents i will never recover.

↳ user09 NO! OH I PRAY FOR YOU

esteban ocon i'm supposed to be able to look max in the eyes now?

lewishamilton i renounce our friendship. good luck to fernando and seb, but i'm done. find someone to replace me. maybe kimi or valtteri. hell kevin or hulkenberg might like these guys.

↳ georgerussell63 good luck being able to get away from us

user32 i fear jos is questioning who his son is dating and who his friends are

↳ landonorris oh, he did that way before this song or nonsense came out

isabellaperez JOS VERSTAPPEN IS NOT A FAN OF A NONSENSE CHRISTMAS! I REPEAT HE IS NOT A FAN! MAX TELL HIM TO PUT THE FUCKING FORK DOWN!

↳ user13 there's no way she actually did it

↳ maxverstappen1 I WARNED YOU NOT TO DO THAT! HE WASN'T GOING TO LIKE IT!

↳ user13 i stand corrected

↳ danielricciardo THIS IS THE FUNNIEST SHIT I'VE EVER FUCKING SEEN! NETFLIX BETTER BE RECORDING THIS BECAUSE IT'S COMEDY GOLD!

↳ alex_albon SHE JUST RAN PAST THE WILLIAMS GARAGE!! I THINK I'M ABOUT TO PEE FROM ALL THIS LAUGHING!!

↳ nataliaruiz PEOPLE! IT'S NOT JOS CHASING HER WITH A FORK! IT'S MAX WITH A WATER GUN! JOS LEFT THE GARAGE AFTER ISABELLA PULLED HER LITTLE TRICK!! HE HAD A FORK BECAUSE HE WAS HAVING LUNCH WITH MAE!!

↳ maejones YOU COULDN'T HAVE WAITED UNTIL HE WAS ALONE? I CAN NEVER FACE HIM AGAIN! OH MY GOD, DIGGING MY GRAVE AS WE SPEAK!!

↳ dulceperez she looks like a wet and angry kitten

isabella perez MAX EMILIAN VERSTAPPEN I WILL BE GETTING MY REVENGE!

max verstappen I'D LIKE TO SEE YOU TRY!!

isabella perez DULCE MARIA PEREZ! YOU'RE FUCKING NEXT!

esteban ocon she's in the alpine garage and she does look like a wet cat

oscar piastri i think it's kinda cute

logan sargeant AY-YO? ARE WE JUST GONNA SLIDE PAST THAT?

alex albon i think the songs kinda catchy.

daniel jones-ricciardo i did not need to know max had big snowballs.

mae jones you've literally seen him naked before pierre gasly UM WHAT? daniel jones-ricciardo IT WAS AN ACCIDENT! HOW I SUPPOSED TO KNOW HE WAS NAKED? max verstappen THERE'S THIS NEW THING. IT'S CALLED KNOCKING daniel ricciardo DON'T YOU FUCKING DARE QUOTE ALVIN AND THE CHIPMUNKS AT ME MAX!

fernando alonso i worry for all of you. also what does 'you got a new toy for me' mean? aren't all of you too old to be playing with toys?

esteban ocon i know you're not that fucking naive fernando. stop fucking with them. fernando alonso but it's so much fun

lewis hamilton OH MY GOD! SOME THINGS ARE BETTER KEPT A SECRET MAE!

mae jones so my sister can write dress and scratches down daniel's back but i can't write about max's dick?

carlos sainz i am permanently scarred. some things i can't ever unhear.

george russell i am in shock

esteban ocon i need 3 to 5 business WEEKS to recover from this.

sebastian vettel i'm speechless and not in a good way

mick schumacher ignoring who the song is about and that i know the singer, it's good.

freya vettel a certified christmas bop

natalia ruiz I NEED THAT CHARLES DICKENS. YOU'LL BE SANTA CLAUS AND I'LL BE MRS. I'LL TAKE YOU FOR A RIDE, I'LL BE YOUR VIXEN. I DON'T EVEN KNOW I'M TALKING CHRISTMAS!!

daphne jones-ricciardo i know someday you two idiots will have children and i pray they never find this song. just like i pray they never find mine.

rowan todd digital footprint is real guys, just look at timothee chalamet, the superior french guy.

esteban ocon uh oh, i think they're fighting again. dulce perez alright, what'd you do this time gasly? pierre gasly why is it always my fault? dulce perez it's always your fault bitch, so what'd you do? pierre gasly i didn't do shit, this time, she's just mad because i ate the last croissant. natalia ruiz uh oh, i know those symptoms. charles leclerc the world is not ready for little pierres rowan todd i'm not pregnant (i think) pierre gasly what the fuck??? isabella perez ARE WE GETTING ANOTHER BABY?? SO CLOSE TO BABY LECLERC?? AWWW!! YES!!

max verstappen god i hope not. one mini charles we can handle but a mini pierre no please no.

taglist: @burningcupcakefire @arkhammaid @sunflower-golden-vol6 @applopie

¡leclerc-s speaks! shout out to @bb-swift who replied to nonsense and reminded me that a nonsense christmas existed. let's not talk about today's gp and use humor to cope. as a charles girlie i am struggling today as i have the entire season. i've also created a google form for people to fill out if you wish to be added to the taglist to any of my series.

¡disclaimer! this is in no way making assumptions about the people involved in this story, this is all fake. it is a fanfiction please don't take any of what is said seriously. this is all for entertainment purposes and as a creative outlet for me. enjoy!

[kitkatt0430]

Raina has always wanted more and it's a flaw. She knows it. Pretty flower dresses and control over her own life even at the expense of others control over their own. She doesn't regret any of it, but staring at her face in the mirror, covered in spines, and faced with Jiaying and Gordon's kindness and the reality that the powers of clairvoyance she always envied are more curse than gift - for the moment - and... she knows that right now, if her nightmares are to be avoided - her death is to be avoided - then she has to be willing to change. To unbend, just a little.

To concede control, just a little.

The people of Afterlife are not happy with Jiaying. She's too stingy about who gets powers, especially now that it's become so much easier to bestow them using the home grown crystals instead of the Diviners. While they all agree that Jiaying is right to screen candidates, she seems to favor those whose circumstances will make them intensely loyal to her. Gordon, Lincoln... and several others are more loyal to Jiaying than to the community. And they will follow Jiaying thoughtlessly into the destruction of their safe haven in Afterlife.

Still, Gordon is the key to stopping Jiaying. Or at least minimizing the damage she will commit. And when the crucial conversation happens, Raina has already seen what happens when she asks for power in Jiaying's place. So the conversation goes differently.

"It needs to be you," Raina tells Gordon. "If you meet with SHIELD's representative, there will be peace between our people and theirs. But Jiaying cannot differentiate between HYDRA and normal humans who aren't HYDRA anymore. And it's even worse with SHIELD. She'll tell herself she's doing the right thing and she'll knock over the dominoes that will lead to our people's destruction.

"She's not well and I know you've seen the hints of it for all she hides it impressively. But she needs help. Or she'll self destruct and take us all with her. This is the first step to saving her, to saving all of us. But you have to be willing to make it without her support. Or our people's blood will be on our all hands. Yours, mine, hers."

And Gordon doesn't take it well. Raina didn't expect him to.

But he can't unhear what he's heard and when Jiaying tells him her plan for SHIELD and the war she intends to kick off in the name of 'protecting' their people... he hates to realize that Raina may very well be right.

He talks to the elders. He tells them what's going on. And they order him to meet SHIELD, not Jiaying. He doesn't want to do this, to do what feels like betrayal to the woman who reached out to him in the dark and showed him he was still beautiful - that what he'd become was a gift. But his people have to come first.

He tells the others what the elders have decided and when Jiaying objects, he puts her in one of the rooms that only he can enter. But there isn't really any time for objections because SHIELD arrives.

Gordon and Gonzales are each expecting someone else, but they work it out, a preliminary truce. Gorden refuses to allow Inhumans to go on the Index. Their people police their own. But he also acknowledges that there have been instances where things have gone wrong and he's willing to work with SHIELD in times where one of their people goes rogue in a way they can't handle. But he needs SHIELD to acknowledge that the Inhuman community has been around for centuries and self regulated without SHIELD's notice until now. SHIELD is so busy being afraid of what ifs that they're allowing bigotry towards another race blind them to the harm they're committing to.

And Gonzales objects to being told his behavior has been bigoted, but... he hears himself. What he says here and now to Gordon, thinks about the things he's said about Agent Skye... and he can't really say Gordon's wrong either. They do have an undercurrent of prejudice at SHIELD towards powered people. And what if this is the lingering legacy of HYDRA's infiltration? He can't say for sure it isn't.

He agrees that, for now at least, it pushing for adding all Inhumans to the Index isn't the right move. And agrees that leaving a line of communication between Inhumans and SHIELD is a good start. SHIELD likes to catalogue and research and understand everything out of fear of what if scenarios but some things have to be taken on faith. Instead he asks for help reviewing their Index protocols. If the Inhumans will help with powered individuals who are struggling with their powers but not necessarily bad people. And keep SHIELD at least aware of where places like Afterlife are located so that, if at least nothing else, SHIELD can remain aware of where their main gathering places are to steer clear of them - and steer others clear of them too. It's an increasingly interconnected world with satellite imaging and GPS. Afterlife and places like it aren't going to stay hidden and safe for much longer as technology evolves. SHIELD can offer ways of keeping Inhuman communities like Afterlife hidden from everyone else that remote locations aren't enough for anymore.

Neither party leaves totally satisfied or with 100% of what they wanted. Gordon has to concede that with both HYDRA and SHIELD capable of tracking his powers, it's only a matter of time until other interested parties do the same. Or find other methods of tracking Inhumans and there certainly are plenty of organizations and governments that would love to control them. Gonzales has to reassess his own prejudices and recognize that maybe there's more to removing HYDRA's influence in SHIELD than just removing the bad agents.

It wasn't just SHIELD's secrets that let HYDRA do what it wanted, but the attitudes SHIELD cultivated of always being right and being better than everyone else. Maybe part of making things right and making their operations more transparent means allying with the leadership of the Inhuman community and accepting their self governance. Compromising where they can so that when the times comes to stand firm where they can't, they'll have allies willing to stand firm with them.

It's not a great start. But it is a start. And it changes everything.

Raina has never liked leaving the decisions to others, to standing back and letting her destiny lay in someone else's hands. She still means to take a position of power for herself one day, using her powers to carve out a place for herself amongst her fellow Inhumans. But she also knows she's too new to the community to achieve greatness herself. But... well, Gordon will remember who counseled him that Jiaying was unwell and whose predictions led to him averting disaster.

So, eventually, she'll have that control she craves. If she's willing to let others have it first. But then... Raina has always been pragmatic when necessary.

And as her dreams shift from destruction from Jiaying's threat to the one hidden on the other side of the Obelisk... Raina knows she's about to cement her position as right hand to Gordon the way he was once right hand to Jiaying. Not a bad place to be if she wants to lead in her own right one day.

[thenatallie]

Control part III

Written for @infinitememory12345

This short story is a sequel to "Control part II". Feyd realizes he actually wants to please Margot even more than himself.

Explicit smut, oral sex (Margot getting it), 18+, NSFW.

Margot lies in his bed, only in her lingerie. Feyd took good look at her once more, with admiration. Her peach color of skin is in contrast with black sheets and adds to beauty of his sight. Not only that he badly wants to please her, he feels an urge to completely crawl under her skin... He parts her legs and caresses her inner thighs. Her whole body starts to shake. A soft moan escape her lips as she arches her back. Pulling her hips toward him, he removed her panties. Her glistening, pink and most beautiful orchid is calling to him, mesmerizes him... Feyd can't wait anymore, he puts his soft lips on her clit and caresses her whole pussy with them, finally adding tongue. "Oh, oh Feyd...", Margot moans louder and louder. He was drinking sweet juice from her most intimate place and that drew him mad. His blood boiling, can't wait anymore, he must be inside her again. Feyd moves like a panther that sneaks to his prey, to get on top of her. His fingertips trace her perfectly round full breasts, her hard nipples visible through that thin soft bra. She removes it slowly for him. His cock is only an inch from her anticipating wet core. He suddenly kisses Margot again. Their kiss is wet, deep, passionate, and it tastes like her sweet orchid nectar. His manhood slides into her ever so slowly, letting out a harsh sexiest wanton sigh. Although she can take him whole, he controls his pace, but finds it is very challenging. They are both shaking as her warm dipping wet pussy clenches his cock hard. She moves her hips in his tempo and rubs her clit on his public bone. "Oh fuck!", Feyd thought. He needed to increase the tempo somehow. He gets an idea. Rising up to flip Margot on her stomach, he decides to enter her from behind and be on top of her, so her juicy bottom can dampen his thrusts a bit. Just as she thought she couldn't feel more intimate and passionate with him, he reached for her lips again... Incredible feeling of their lips clashing and their tongues swirling around each other drew Feyd completely crazy. He rubs her shoulders harshly as they kiss. Slowly, he grabs her throat, keeping somewhere in his mind not to squeeze too hard. His lips and tongue on her ear now, playing with it, biting, causing ever so wild sensations of tingling and shivering down her spine. "Take it", he whisperes and forces his dick even deeper into her. Margot writhes beneath him, pushing her butt up to meet his whole length. She breathes and moans iregularly, in a high pitched voice, as tears of pure joy wet his pillow. Feyd feels her inner walls clenching even tighter around him. Their passion is becoming too overwhelming for him, too, but he must endure until he pleases her every possible way. He pushes his free hand beneath her and starts to rub her most sensitive spot in circular motion. "Feyd... you are so good at this...", Margot finally manages to speak. "It is you who drive me totally insane, my dear..." Dear? Feyd asked himself where did that came from. Nevermind now. Margot couldn't unhear that particular word. She would smile, only if she could, but this situation allows her just to bite her lips and catch her breaths while Feyd increases his pace even more and continues to rub her clit. She is so close to cumming, squeezing hard the pillows and his hand that is on her throat. "Please don't stop... ", she said it lustfully. He starts trembling uncontrolably. "I won't".

Margot's movements, although somewhat restricted by his body, become wild. "Cum for me", he whispers to her ear. Immediately, she screams Feyd's name, as her cunt now pulsates intensively and her warm juice squirts onto his cock again and again. Her strong multiple orgasms seem to last for eternity. He loves when Margot says his name when he fucks her. He loves the way she fucks with him. The way they kiss... His relief was just waiting for hers. With a couple of final thursts, Feyd deeply fiils her oversensitive cunt with his hot sperm, expelling very last of his droplets inside her. He rested on top of her for a while, panting. She did't mind. His body and scent feel amazing on hers. Taking out his cock from her creampied pussy, he colapses to the bed next to her, pulling her into his embrace. Both dazed, they look at each other for some time, their eyes saying everything that could be said. Feyd broke the silence: "Margot, can you stay with me tomorrow, too?" "Yes, Feyd" she smiled warmly. Feyd cupped her cheeks with his palms and kissed her. Exhausted, they fell asleep embraced.

The end.

[blindrapture]

THURSDAY AUGUST 4TH, 2011 (Don't Speak Its True Name IV: Music)

a voice speaks to me, I Noise. Tones, scales, motifs. Song. The environment, white dotted line on black roads. I have left Sonic behind. I am walking on monotone. Barriers on all sides, guiding me towards what? Can't I just take Tiger Stripes and swing out? Cast away the old shapes? Go freeform and just dance? This world of numbers is the Musician's domain. They have total freedom, so long as they embrace creativity within structured restriction. But they are gods. They need the limits, as otherwise they grow bored. As a human, as a kid, I'm already living in fundamental limits. Cycles within wheels within cycles! Mortality! I think, within that, I'm allowed to breathe. Listening to the vibrant wind. I hear nothing but my patience as it writhes away from life's music. Old expectations, others' old favorites. I must craft my own

music, II By listening as hard as I can, I manage to unhear the eights and fives, and I can just about hear my own footsteps. (Dammit.) By trying as hard as I possibly can… wait, no, goddammit! Jordan, listen! Think of spoonman. No, not the chorus!!! Fuck!!!!! Walk in sevens. Sevens will save you. Step, two, three, f-- Step, two, three, f-- Step, two, three, f-- Step Well, Spoonman is more like 7/4, isn't it? I need 7/8. Or 11/8, or. 7/8 it is. 7/8 it is, then. Step, two, three, f-- Step, two, three… I can hear it. My own footsteps. I can feel it. Inside my body. Three of a Perfect Pair. Back in N.Y.C. Fuck! I'm overthinking this. Have to be. I've proven I can hear my footsteps. Now I just need to understand. It does well to understand. Sound is life of its own. Movement. Is movement life? Remember what Donnie said. Character is life after death. Story too. Make a story out of particles: Movement. At the very least? Annoy the gods. Isn't that the most living thing of

all, III I enter a colorless city, knowing that opening my other eye would take me elsewhere. I have no need for that. This city will do fine. I need no escapism now. I look down one alley, it's all monotone. Whack the brick wall with my guitar controller, bring vibration to the bricks. Vibrations cause an unexpected screech, bouncing from wall to wall-- a feedback loop. Colors fly in strands from my footsteps. So I run. Hitting every surface I

find, IV ..but what is this doing? Now colors fly through the air, now what? I'm making pretty pictures, in the Musicians' world. They will have made this possible to do anyway. And the rhythm, my gait-- so it's no longer fives and eight. So? I'm still limited, still playing in their world. In the end, I'm running from the truth: That I don't want to do this anymore. That I'm letting my friends down. I'm leading them into the gods' arms. Just because I'm reckless with my own safety. Because I'm.. suicidal. Not entirely, just enough. Fuck. How's that for my music? I don't want Fentzy here. I don't want Danny either. Did I even want Bones? I just want to find a place where Donnie can be safe, while I…

end, V All sound ceases. No environment. Even I darken. If I want a chance to fade out, the Musicians gave me plenty. … >_< I guess Sonic wasn't enough to carry me. When I was younger, yes. I'm sixteen now. Too old. What would he say, though? If I could manifest him. "If you have time to worry, then run." Here, I have all the time I need. There's nowhere to run to. "You have to try. Get up, and run!" I'm not a damn mascot. I get tired. "You don't understand. Just try!" I know, running creates color. Sound and motion. Like my thoughts spin their wheels, uplifting, downtrodden. But why? What am I doing? Do I deserve to feel I'm so special? "The Harlequin thought you were special. She's right." The Harlequin? She was a sad fucking mess. There are plenty of subs in the world. She'd have found one, one way or another. And anyway, after all that she did? Should I want to share her broken values? "You're asking 'should.' Do you not know, yourself?" After all that she did? "Yes. Do you not know?" ...there's a lot of things I don't know. One can have the best values in existence, and still we make choices. Who we are inside doesn't determine our actions. Not one to one, anyway. "You're saying it's balancing acts, one after another." A constant tightrope, facing walls and long drops. You'd think the walls'd help? Instead, they throw you off-balance. You get used to one way, then you're thrown into another language set. "You're mixing your metaphors here." Exactly. It's another language set. "So. If I'm understanding correctly. You're doing fine." Huh? "You've got some doubts, because you're human. You're in a mental prison that's limiting you. But you'll get out, because. You'll talk yourself out of it."

VI I blink, and I'm back in the city. All my talking has colored the sky. "Even when presented with nothing. Even when cut off. No way out. Your mind... self-perpetuates." Behind. Turn around. Facing me down. Two blurs, black suits. Is it time to talk? "We knew that you'd escaped before. You and Donnie together make a team. But if we put you alone, against your fears? We were surprised. Aren't you?" You were testing me? "Trying to kill you." "He was. I'm not." "We are one, Seppo." "One team. One test." "One mind." "Two minds. Two characters." "'Characters?' We are not characters." "There's a lot you don't realize in this. What did you hope to achieve here, now? Isolate him, drive him mad? Then what, Grimaldi?" "An obstacle would be removed." "An obstacle? You think he's much a threat?" "I think he's-- we!! We think he's tenacious. He gets in the way." "I don't understand you anymore." The left Musician's head has grown in size. I see now that they are not blurs: their bodies are always vibrating. Fast vibrations, distorting light around. Uh. Should I be here? "'Should!' 'Should!' Always a 'should!' Are you here, that is the question!" ..yes? "Then yes! Be here! Be!" u_u I see. "Grimaldi, let me speak. Let me do this." "…" head shrinks back to size. "Jordan. We know you, your mind. You wish to do some large things. You wish to stop Rapture. Your doubts are strong only because your ambitions are so great, earth-shaking, earth-shadowing." "Also because of your background." "Yes. I don't think you have quite realized. You run into trouble because others have plans for you, meanwhile you keep thinking, questioning, deciding. Your world had no place for your ideas." None for a better world? "None for a world where you have a place. No one had even considered that." "But there's something to that." "What?" "This kid is all that is not accepted. His mind is filled with rejected, mocked ideas. He is, somehow, Everybody Else. Too big for a seat at any table." ._.;; "Are you starting to understand, Grimaldi?" "Understand what?""Why he keeps coming up? Why the Archangel asked us to stop him?" "..I think the question is, does he?" Me? "Do you see?" "Do you want to see?"

VII The ground in front of me opens up, and out rises a fungal substance emitting every color of the neon rainbow. A specter with a terrifying face rises out of the smoke, and my ears are filled with a piercing shrill shriek, the darkest bark. A rumbling Donnie, a fragmented Fentzy, dead Anna at the end of strings that I hold. I am made of wood, with jagged smile. Eyes watch me. Faces judge. I try to move, but the wood restricts. Strings tighten on my friends. I can only move in limited, certain ways. Dragging the others with me. Is this character? Is this control? Responsibility? ..life? Voices cry out around me: "You arrogant little shit!” “You are the disease!” “Should have been an abortion.” "The worst kind of person." "You're doing everything that you claim to hate." "Smartass." "Asshole." "Kind of a dick, annoying piece of shit." "He's just a robot. He has no emotion." "Strangling would be too good for him." Memories. I have to let go of the strings. Donnie, Fentzy, and rising undead Anna approach me. Their hands around my throat. Rosa comes up behind them, wielding a knife. It goes in my ear. I'm hit. I'm hurt. I'm kicked. I'm down. My head is cracked open. I let it all happen. But when they're done, when I'm still alive… Scattered wood chips on the ground around me… They destroyed the wooden suit. It hurt. But it helped. I get the feeling... I'm going to have to get used to that. Life, my mind, is going to hurt me. But I've been through worse. I'm ready for the hurt, this time I will make it free me.

My Octavarium, VIII Here we are again, in a maze of mirrors, this time extending far into the horizon. All of my reflections are Musicians. "You can talk yourself out of anything, Rael." What, you're gonna call me that too now? "There is nothing that we can do to you that you haven't already done to yourself." I'm pretty sure you guys could kill me if both of you wanted to. "But we don't. We only wanted to talk." Then let's talk. Enough of the misdirection and the tests and the word restraints. Are you going to help me save the world? "The others will not be happy with us if they find out…" Yeah, I don't know if Donnie will be happy with me either. "But we must." "We know what Rapture will do to the world." "We know what is coming." "It is a reality check. We, like the others, have been toying with the power of fear. Rapture is a horror far greater than anything we have wanted." "We cannot compete. And there is no place for us if we choose to join it." "And here you are, human and stubborn and slipping through all the cracks." "Taking your gods at face value, because you know full well that they are better at being predators than you are at being prey. And you have already seen the short future that would await you if you had even approached other humans accepting that." "The world had no place for you." "Yet you would still try to save it." "Your character is compelling. That counts for something." "Your story has legs, because it is not just your story." Even with all my narcissism? I talk a lot about myself. "Everyone has an 'I,' Rael. It would be deceptive to put yours away. Anyone reading your journals has the opportunity to do some mental math, work on their side of the equation, and solve for X." "We would be fools if we, too, did not take this opportunity." Huh. Well, it's nice to formally make your acquaintance, Musicians. Where do we. Where do we go from here? "Your group has settled in a dangerous place. Your habits have backed you into a corner. You cannot stay, but you also cannot leave. You may have to ride this one out, and take the first chance you get to make your escape." Can you help us? "We will have to see." do you want to

(Attached is a detail from the book of Ptah: “Somewhere between the first star of the universe and the last meteor to be born (otherwise known as "the 7-11 of the Ceesverse"), I receive an unexpected phone call. I didn't even know I had a phone. Look in the mirror, what do I see, held up to my face cellular tranquility. I say "Hello," she says "Seppo?" I say "'Tis me," she says "Louhi." "Thought you were dead," says I, and she "Just put to bed." "Is that so? What can I do," says I, and she "You know what I ask of you. "I'll give you my daughter's key if you'll build me the axis mundi." "I don't make for power anymore, absolutely not for another hour of amore." "Oh, but don't you desire it? To create, shape, and pontificertificate?" "Your ambigunity," I affirm, "afflectious so it may be, betrays more than you know." "I'm rubber, love, and you are only glue." "Don't be childish." "I know I am; how about you?" "Admit to it, you wish." "Tell me again, hero: Don't you desire it? All that you may be. All that you may become. All that you may behold, yours always." "I cannot be beholden as a hero." "I know this more than any." "I feared that." "Or did many?" "I'm hanging up now." "Still your tongue, hold your finger and stay your thumb! Old and wise Seppo Ilmarinen, half-mortal and many-named man, you know my disposition, you're aware of how I act. I wouldn't come to you, first action back from the grave, my first thing done since escaping Tuonela if we can call it that among its names, epithets many-- be they as they are-- and nature eldritch-- a prism refracting desire into the unspeakable just as speech does to an idea ,,,,,,,,,,,,,, unless I had a reason, unless I had a face, unless I desiblue something intent something rael something not in finite. You know this, Seppo Ilmarinen; you know this, unstoppable smith. Hear my voice." Look around my empty head. Red star. Cellphone in reflected world, lend yourself my invisible ear. "I am here." "Build me the centre because you want to be the only one who knows how." Stars in my eyes, monomyth of the quarks born in my heart this night-- if one can even tell the difference between day and night when there's always stars out. The point, the abstract point, I'm trying to get to is that of creative passion. So I put that phone back to my head and I say, "I'll do it."")

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[yiangchen]

i've been so obsessed with noah kahan's stick season recently. this album is everything that i wish ed sheeran's music had evolved into. say what you want about ed, but i loved his first three albums and even some songs on his fourth. if he'd gone in a stick seasons' direction sonically...it would just make so much sense. listen to the song still and tell me that the melodies are not so reminiscent of ed's earlier work, especially his debut album plus. listen to the hauntingly beautiful humming background vocals in the song halloween and tell me it doesn't remind you of similar vocals in bloodstream from the multiply album. tell me that the sudden bursts of anger in the song your needs, my needs isn't similar to how soft the song give me love from the plus album begins until similar sudden angry vocals. i'm not saying noah has copied ed. that's not what i'm saying at all. i just hear little notes of ed throughout stick season and i can't unhear them! idk if ed's early work was an inspiration for noah, but if it was, i would not be at all surprised. ed's music has evolved sonically in a way i just can't connect with anymore, and i think noah's new sound has filled that void for me!

[xiaozhan-appreciation]

Hi, it's still me, I hope you're not getting sick of me already. This drama just left me with so many feelings (99% positive ones). I just read the post you linked earlier, all 29 pages, and it left me with lots of thoughts and I wanted to thank you, I wouldn't have found it on my own. I actually found myself agreeing with a lot of things in it and it made me feel a bit better, as well as your first answer as I said earlier, so thank you. I'm still not super happy, because I need a happy ending for my angst and I have a ridiculously strong negativity bias, but it has helped shift my pov a bit and I don't necessarily hate the ending anymore. I love the thought of him being a little snowy rosa god, which does make perfect sense, and maybe Zhu Yan will ascend with him after her 27 years are over. And maybe, just maybe, he can stay for good until those 27, or actually 26 since it's a year later, are done. If not, I hope he has a good time in the heavenly realm while waiting to return every year.

Hi anon! I'm not getting sick of you at all, no worries! I enjoy talking about The Longest Promise, I've been obsessing over this drama for over a month now and my excitement about it won't cool down any time soon. 😁

I'm glad to hear that the linked post and some of my thoughts made you feel a little bit better about the ending. 🙂 It's not easy to digest... but I'm there with you, the idea that Shi Ying is a snowy rosa immortal is a nice one, and I don't see why Zhu Yan shouldn't be able to ascend as well – she is an extraordinary cultivator after all – or that Shi Ying can't find a way to visit longer. Both of them achieved things that were unheared of, like surviving the Tribulations of Hell, succeeding in the Star Revival Blood Oath, or defeating the God of Destruction. Unless they give it a try, how could anyone say they can't achieve something they set their minds to?

But at any rate, I'm also looking forward to Xiao Zhan's next drama to air – which most likely will be Sunshine by my side – and that drama to have a happy ending, hopefully. I think after all the pain and tragedy in The Longest Promise, we all deserve to get a romance with a happy ending in Sunshine by my side. 😁

[bokuroo-squeals]

"I love you, and you love me. Isn't that enough?"+ Best Friend's Brother with Osamu

If this does well, I might do a part 2 but I seriously don't think this is good. It's written a little to awkward for my liking.

Event masterlist here.

Stolen glances were your favorites, getting to be unapologetically in love with someone and your secret unknown to the world. In silence,you could appreciate him, the color of his eyes, the tip of his nose, how his eyes crinkled in delight when he laughed. Delicious moments where you could enjoy him.

By stolen glances was the only way in which you could reach Osamu like the idiot in love you were, because you knew that if his brother ever found out how hard your heart beats for him, not only would he be scandalized, you also believed that he would also feel betrayed. After all, Atsumu had vocalized plenty of times his disdain at the thought of you and his brother together.

You were a good friend, you really were, and while you couldn't stop from falling har for his brother- yet you admit that you loved every second of your feelings- at least you did stop yourself from acting on them, as much as it was possible. Of course you tried, though it was hard when his own brother looked at you with a glint so fond on his eyes, when his warm hands seemed to find yours with no problem when you were close, but never reaching for them, just enough to brush yours and give you a taste of what they feel like.

You continue to watch Osamu form the distance, in your seat next to his brother while the younger twin laughs at something Suna said, and his laugh could be at his friend's words, but his eyes are on you. He turns his head to the game they're playing, the sofa small with two big bodies like theirs seating in them.

"Say, Y/n" Atsumu calls for your attention, looking at the sealing deep in thoughts. "Would you be interested in me setting you up with someone"

The spit in your mouth makes you choke with his words.

How were you supposed to react to the sudden proposition, and what were you supposed to say? Should you tell him that the only guy you're interested in at the moment was his twin? The brother that he prohibited you from dating since day one?

You're eyes travel again to Osamu, who isn't looking at you, but with the way his eyebrows furrow, you are aware of him listening, and your poor heart can't handle the pressure. By the sight of it, he doesn't seem to happy about the conversation Atsumu is intending to have, and neither are you but it's not like you can't tell him that, so with a sigh, one you hope sounds tired and annoyed enough to convince him, you kindly reject the direction he wants to take.

"No, thanks" cool, calm, you remember, stay cool and calm. Yet, Atsumu can't read the room, or chooses not to do it, as always, and continues despites it.

"C'mon, you can't be single forever. I know this guy, he saw a photo of you and he's interested in meeting you" he moves to face you, a self-satisfied smile on it, as if he is about to make something incredible by setting you up– he's not, in fact, you think he's really stupid in this moment– and his brows nudged towards you like an invitation to say yes.

By now, you're too afraid to turn to steal a glance at his brother, being it for a fear of how pissed you think he might be, or because of the fear of the blond catching you, either way, your eyes stayed focused on your idiotic best friend.

"I don't care, you're lame and so must be your friend" with a hand pushing him away, you're about to end the conversation "Anyways, instead of focusing on my love life, you should start one yourself" you huffed, ending the talk.

Atsumu pouts, and while he's not pleased with your crude answer, he listens, leaving you alone. Although that doesn't mean he's dropping his irritating antics, finding another prey, his brother.

"How about you, 'Samu? There's this girl I already rejected, but I guess she'll be interested on a date with you. Obviously, I am the handsome twin, but you're not that bad yourself"

It's not your place, it really isn't, to say no, to tell your friend to fuck off and leave Osamu alone because you want to be the only one for him. But you seriously want to do it, shout that he can't set up his brother with a random girl because you feel like he already belongs to you. And you know it's selfish, that's why you stay silent, with an invisible scowl and gritted teeth and fists clenching a little too hard.

For the nth time that night, Osamu's eyes land on your figure, meeting your's in the process. The difference is, that this time, he's look is both cold and hot. Cold as if they're telling you how tired they are, and hot as if to tell you he's ready to make you step up your game, almost challenging you.

"Yeah, of course, just know that once she's met me, she'll have clear who's the better twin. Won't even remember a thing 'bout you" Osamu's smirk is teasing, and everyone could say it was towards his brothers, but you knew better. It was dedicated to you.

A pang of something hurts in your chest, maybe of jealousy, and maybe it's the pain of hearing him giving up on whatever you're supposed to have. It's wrong, you're feeling the guilt of those sensations, because you're the one that has pushed him off, denying every single advice that could have been done, and still, you want him just for you.

It isn't until hours later, when Suna has left and Atsumu has fallen asleep when you talk for the first time this day, aside from the greetings.

You stand in the kitchen, a glass of water in your hand, trying to calm how agitated your insides are. At this point, the twins have left a disaster of your mind and heart, coming like a hurricane of emotions that hits you hard enough to hurt. A part of you wants to scream, declare your undying love for him, for his deep voice and calming irises, declare that he's yours and yours only– you remind yourself that he isn't– but the other side of you is too afraid, afraid of hurting the one person that has been next to you through everything and anything, the one who has picked up the broken pieces and helped you come back as one stronger version. You don't want to hurt or hurt anyone, which it's so damn hard in your position, but you know that you'd never forgive your heart if you let down Atsumu, if you even dare to disappoint him.

Osamu's entrance pulls you out of your trance, successfully taking your attention towards him, although he appears to ignore your presence, walking past you without a word. Painful, that's too painful for you.

"Osamu…" you trailed off, trying to make you as small as you can.

"Save it. I'm not in the mood to talk to you" he's cold, and you hate it, he's never been like this to you, but you can't blame him either. While he's cold, there's just the tiniest hint of anger on his voice, making you more unsettled.

"I'm sorry! I don't want to hurt you, you know that, is just that–" he interrupts you. He's pissed, his eyes show it, his chest puffs and shoulders tense, a sight you never want to see again.

"It doesn't matter, it's not like we're anything, anyway" his words cut deep inside you, damn they do.

You wished you could unhear the pain behind what he says, but it's right there, and it shows his vulnerability.

"That's not true… you know how I feel about you"

"Then let's do something about it! I love you and you love me, isn't that enough?!" The raw emotion touches your insides in the most painful but delicious way. You want to hold him close and comfort him, yet you don't think you have the right to do it. "So what if my brother doesn't approve it?! Are we supposed to forget about how we feel? Am I supposed to ignore how much I love when our hands meet? How much do I adore the way you look at me?! Or pretend that I'm burning to kiss you?! I'm sorry, Y/n but I don't care anymore about anything Atsumu has to say at this point."

He comes your way with big steps, and you coward a little at the sudden movement, and then he kisses you. A kiss is full of irritation, annoyance, love, care, all the bottled up feelings showing in a kiss that says more than words.

"I'm not hiding up how I feel anymore, so this is me officially asking you to be mine. You can reject me and we'll forget this happened, or you can accept and we'll face Atsumu, together".

Your answer is obvious, coming in the form of another kiss, one that's more tender, sweet and short.

[rebekahgaveup]

Okay so I got tagged by @cheybeautiful to do each of Taylor's albums and an album I associate them with so HERE WE GO

Taylor Swift by Taylor Swift (2006) -> Bangerz by Miley Cyrus (2013)

Okay, so this is kind of a weirdly specific one. Basically the first and only time I ever saw the Wrecking Ball MV was in this furniture store where it was just zoomed in on her face the entire time, and then later in my life when I was not 12 anymore I would drive by the same furniture store while blasting Picture to Burn, therefore causing this association between the albums. Are they sonically or thematically similar? Not to my knowledge!! But they are eternally, cursedly linked in my head.

Fearless by Taylor Swift (2008) -> revolution by Miranda Lambert (2009)

Okay so this is a far more obvious connection. The first song I ever got on my old iPod classic (RIP) was White Horse. However, another OG song off that iPod and probably within the first 5 songs I bought was The House that Built Me. Both of these country albums contain the song that the artist is arguably best known for (Love Story for Taylor and The House That Built Me for Miranda) and were released pretty close to each other, so they're very linked in my brain.

Speak Now by Taylor Swift (2010) -> The Way It Was by Parachute (2011)

@tonystark-s POINTED OUT TO ME HOW THESE ALBUMS ARE BASICALLY WRITTEN FOR EACH OTHER AND NOW I CAN'T UNHEAR IT. Like tell me White Dress is NOT about Taylor you can't. "She wears a gold cross/She sheds her skin but it never comes off" OKAY JUST SAY IT'S TAYLOR AND GO WILL. Anyway, a lot of these songs sound like Taylor/could be responses to Taylor songs and I just think that's very neat.

Red by Taylor Swift (2012) -> When The Sun Goes Down by Selena Gomez & The Scene (2011)

This one will come as no surprise to anyone who had an ear to the metaphorical pop culture ground in 2012. What were the biggest sounds of that summer, you ask? We Are Never Ever Getting Back Together and the buzzing of Jelena rumors. Yes that's right I'm unfortunate enough to remember Jelena rumors. Are they breaking up? Are they even still together? All I know is if I had to see these two images while doing some quick research to make sure these things did in fact happen in the same summer and were not a food-poisoning induced fever dream so do you

[potatopossums]

How many times should I have hope for something?

How many times do I have to face something that I'm not ready for, and ask myself how to tackle it anyway?

I don't want to tackle it. I just want it to happen naturally. I don't want to waste my energy trying to send love that I've never really felt reciprocated.

I don't even know whether asking for it will help, or whether that's just going to make things worse.

I've been so scared of becoming the things I fear, the things that have hurt me. I don't want to misstep and become them now.

Please.

I don't even know what to say or who to be. All i know is that I'm in pain. I don't know how to solve it.

I wanted to look forward to something. I wanted something to look forward to together. But that even seems out of the question. I wanted to visit you. Now I don't even know how I could manage to emotionally, much less financially. It feels like you don't even want me to come. I can't tell anymore. I can't tell if you're just depressed or if you're pushing me away. I can't tell anything anymore. I don't even know what to say or ask. I'm so confused. I wish I knew what to do. I wish I knew what to say. I wish I knew what was going on with you. I'm scared you just don't want me to know. I can't see a thing. How am I supposed to be your friend when I feel like I'm in the dark? How too am I supposed to be a good friend if I can't even form words that make sense, questions that can solve even part of this? I feel alone. I can't even put into words how I feel. I'm so desperately lonely. I'm trying to feel better.

I woke up crying today. Lonely. Alone. I don't know what to say. No one I ask seems to help. I just wanted you to be here somehow. I wanted to be there too. I feel like I'm just grasping for things that can't happen, and I'm sobbing over disappointments that were unavoidable. I chose what I thought was the best thing I could choose; solidarity and confidence in another. I wanted to let myself be honest with myself, even if that voice never came above the surface. And now I'm just drowning, and it feels like I'm the one doing it to myself. And yet, I don't feel entirely alone in this prison.

I just want to know what you think of me. I just want to know if those stories we wrote together were as meaningful to you as they were to me. I want to know if I was the only one experiencing joy during all that, if I was the only one that carried that with me. I remember those moments, I remember feeling safe. I want that back. I saw a path into loving myself through all that, here's the thing: I don't know how to continue that without asking someone else to love me too. Because if I'm honest with myself, I enjoy myself fine enough, but I really want for other people to enjoy me. I want to trust other people when they do. I want to invite people in again. I want it to feel okay. I thought you were a safe person for that. But I'm honestly losing my mind at all of this. I have no idea who I am to you anymore, and I have no idea what to think. Where emotions run deep, I run the risk of sexual attachment. And now I can't get rid of it. I can't get that voice out of my head. I can't unhear what you've said to me, even if you were someone else while you said it. I can't tell the difference. I want to tell the difference, but I'm so afraid of what answer you'll give me. I'm afraid of what you'll think of me if my grief is so much that I need time away. I'm afraid you'll hate me just like all the others, and you'll be right. I'm afraid I'll just be disgusting to you, and you'll be right. I don't know how to defend myself, even to myself. I just fall apart. I buckle. Because I don't want to bleed. I don't want you to overpower me. (It's my dad who does all this, but I can't see anyone else doing any fucking different. I don't know how to stop this from happening.)

I've wanted to tell you this a thousand times. But I never knew how to get past my fears, my trauma. I never felt ready enough. And that just made me feel worse.

You said you'd sit with my in my hole of despair. I want to believe you, and I also don't know why you'd subject yourself to my despair, especially when you have enough of your own. I don't know why you'd want to be next to me. I feel like I've spent all this time lying to you, even though I was trying so hard to figure out what I wanted, if anything.

I'm used to being abandoned and I'm used to abandoning myself so it hurts less.

I still want to meet you. I still want to feel safe near you. I don't know why that feeling has to disappear. Every time I ws afraid, if I got to talk to you, I felt a little better. But now... that feels so far away from the truth. It's been so long since I've heard your voice. I don't think you understand. I'm afraid that's just going to scare you.

And I'm afraid I'll just keep abandoning myself. Over and over. I don't know how not to. I'll keep disappointing myself, and you. I don't want that. I just don't know how to stop it.

[sending-the-message]

Krokodil by Ra1n_Walker

Yeah…. I'm a drug addict. Not in the stereotypical way though. I get a high from being wasted. Not on any particular drug, I'll just indulge in whatever's available and make sure I end up wasted enough that I don't have to live every single aspect of life that challenges and bothers me. "I won't end up in the gutter being a heroin addict, I won't fall in debt because I go nuts on cocaine, nor will I ever acknowledge the fact that it's all killing me". That's what I told myself, but I do all of them, which ever one of them is at hands.

"You shouldn't. You can't…."

Well boo fucking hoo.

They all tried. Mom. Dad. Brother. Other brother. Even both of my sisters, but I just couldn't care less seeing as I had to have my daily needs met with herbs, white powder, pills or seringes.

I'll let you into my life and everything that happened as it gradually went from bad to worse. And, first of all, fuck you. This is my account and I'm sharing it for all those poor souls who haven't heard of it yet. Krokodil. If you have a problem with this, or if you think judging me is going to be a life changing matter, you're wrong. I am way too far gone and I'm mustering every piece of lucidity that's left within me to write this down and get my story out. Little heads up: if you're faint of heart, you might want to pick another story, because this one is true and so are the horrors I have lived.

I guess I have to go back a few years to get to the origin of the story of what is now my life, or what's left of it. About twelve years ago (I'm 28 now), I was a mess. Like, pushing away everyone including my family and friends and becoming more solitary every day. I wasn't the cool kid in school, rather the punching bag used by the previously mentioned. The center of mockery, the object of laughter and ridiculisation. Young, alone and desperate, I turned to narcotics, even after saying I would never ever do drugs. As a kid, it scared me and as an adolescent, I thought of it as bad and dangerous. Which it is, but it's also bliss and a guilty pleasure you should stay away from.

At 16, I'd already tried weed and mdma. I live in Belgium and our marihuana policy is a grey area, which means finding it is incredibly easy. I had my dealer, who I saw every other day to buy myself a fifty - that's 50 euros for a good 6,5 grams of pure Amnesia - aaaaand I'd smoke all of it in just over a day. Sometimes more, more often less as time progressed and my habit became so much more unhealthy. I'd tried the mdma as a recreational thing, my ganja dealer told me about it and assured me it was worth the try. So I did it, liked it, and never went back to it. Weed though... I know you can't really get physically addicted to cannabis, but I'd be lying if I said I wouldn't mind going a day without. You wonder how I got the money… no clue. I couldn't afford a lot of food or a roof over my head, but there was always a way to acquire drugs.

I couldn't handle myself sober anymore and by the time I was an adult, having reached my 18th birthday, I was used to cocaine, xtc, speed and a whole lot of psychiatrists to accompany the lifestyle that was slowly murdering me. Diagnosed bipolar, severely depressed and often tormented by suicidal tendancies, you all know what followed. I was 20 when I started injecting heroin.

I ran away from home on multiple occasions and always caused enough trouble in the meantime to make sure my parents would slowly start hating me. Don't think they were bad parents or anything, it's just that I had become a professional delinquent and the walls of prison cells were becoming a little too familiar. So one day I came back home like a mutilated reject of society and was lucky enough that mom and dad still saw me as their son. A monster with no joy in life and an insatiable desire to be wasted the fuck out of this world, but still their son. I was brought to my parent's house by two police officers who'd found me in a parking lot after someone called them over.

"There's another weirdo with seringes in front of my shop."

That's what they were told, so they responded and found me, brought me in and let me 'sleep it off' in jail. Have you ever seen someone wasted on heroin? It's not pretty. What's worse are the days after, kicking off from something that literally attacks your body, kills you a little more every second and makes you feel like death is upon you, without actually being dead. That probably doesn't even make sense, but hey, I'd be surprised if it did, coming from me.

So when I arrived home…. Let me tell you that moment is etched into my brain. I can't unsee, nor can I unhear the sound of my mom's horrified sobs or the terror in my dad's eyes. Mom fainted and dad cried as I sat down in the couch while he let out the cops, thanking them for bringing me home safely. Has anyone ever seen his dad drop to his knees and cry his lungs out, hugging you as if his and your life depended on it? That has to be the most painful memory I have.

That was also the next chapter of the book I lived. A book filled with dark pages, some empty, some nearly black with words and scribbles, others seemingy blank and just staring back at me. It marked the beginning of my recovery, or at least a well-meant attempt to achieve it, and I can honestly say that my family's help and genuine dedication to my cause was nearly enough to actually make me succeed. But I am me and fucked-up is my middle name, so this is what happened.

I was sent to a rehabilitation center. A haven for drug addicts to recover and try to find a way to re-enter society without having to do it alone. The problem is that when you kick off from heroin, you are hurting. Like hell. It's hard to describe, but as I said before, I personally feel like death. Like a breathing corpse, feeling nothing but an unbearable sensation that rips your soul and all hope from your body. If, and I say IF, you're well taken care of and get all the outside help you absolutely and desperately need, you might just pull through.

I did pull through, oh and by the way, did I mention my supportive family? My parents, brothers, sisters…?

They all tried. So hard.

I had a visitor at least every day, sometimes more than one and despite knowing I wasn't alone in this, I felt like the last man on earth. After those cops brought me home, not a single second was wasted. Clothes in the bag, parents on their way to the hospital with their half-dead, overly intoxicated excuse for a son passed out on the back seat. I spent the next days in rehab, kicking off.

Death probably feels nicer.

But I pulled through.

Once an addict, always an addict. Yeah, you've heard that before, right? Well fuck me if that isn't true. I should be ashamed to say it, but I couldn't care less, because I'd forgot what caring means. I faked my way out of there with no problems at all, I was even told they had rarely seen someone recover to the extent of actually being in the state I was. I looked healthy, skinny and pale, but a joyful look on my face, bright eyes and a voice that screamed enthousiasm.

There's always one person, though. One individual that sees through you and the lies you use as a safety net. Despite me being better and seemingly healthy, one specific docter seemed to be aware of what was going on. Of course I was better. Hard to not be when you've spent months being clean and pushed to be happy by people who apparently feel like they have the power to decide that. I had a hard time, but I got better and I was almost out. On the last day, just before I left through the front door, the doc approached me and took me aside, a serious look on her face. Her name was Lea Forester.

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course", I said, my voice a perfect imitation of a guy that lived to enjoy every second of every day.

Me: "What's up?

Lea: "How are you really?"

I was going to open my mouth to ask her what she meant, but she interrupted me instantly and kept talking. This is what she told me, word for word:

"A life is something we have and take for granted, you feel like your life is something that was imposed on you and you have no idea how to see clearer. I see your eyes and I KNOW you are trying hard to give the right impression, but there's an invisible wall between you and the people around you. You act honest and genuine, but I can feel your fear and doubt. Would you consider to stay a little longer? Please stay..."

I have to say I was a bit baffled. Not because of what she said, but HOW she said it. There was compassion, empathy and even worrying in her voice and the look she gave me, the eyes she was watching me with… those were so sad. She knew what I was planning. She knew me better than I did and she knew there was nothing she could do. The decision to let me go was one made by the board and she couldn't make me stay, but she did have me doubting.

I'd been clean for months, but I never once stopped wishing I was high, stoned, drunk or wasted on whatever substance that would carry me upwards again. I was tired of being nice, looking happy, healed and strong.

I gave the doc a look and felt tears rise when I told her I had to do this.

"I appreciate you being nice to me." I said. And then I turned around and left, never to come back. I think now I can skip some parts because it would just be repeating what I said before. I found myself some coke the day I got out and I was back into heroin on the second. But then I heard of Krokodil.

A guy I used to see when fixing my dope talked to me one day about a new thing he'd started dealing. Krokodil supposedly was a drug comparable to heroin, with a few differences that actually made it sound better and I was feeling adrenaline pumping through my veins as I thought of it.

It was cheaper. A lot. The rush lasted around two hours. The effects of kicking off were less bad and the high it gave you was something I had never felt before. That's what he said, and that's when I injected my first dose of Krokodil. It was fucking amazing, guys. Please never do drugs. Read this as a recollection of my past, but do not get the impression that I am recommending you to do drugs. DON'T!

But yes, it was incredible. Until it was over. I have never felt pain like I was feeling then. I have never panicked and felt like dying like that before and I would've never guessed all of that was acceptable just because of how fucking amazing the rush was. So I did it again and again and again until my brain was only a fraction of what I had left and my body started protesting against the immense pressure I was submitting it to. I needed my fix, I needed money and fast.

See, Krokodil is a drug alright, but nothing kills you like that. Remember I said that heroin attacks your body? After my second injection of that new devil in my life, my arm started itching, which then switched to feeling uncomfortable and then eventually turned to hurting like hell. I thought I was dreaming at first, but it started turning blue and purple and I started losing sensation in my hand. It was horrible and I can't even begin to wonder what that shit was made of. But once an addict, always an addict. I'd jam a seringe in that wound and get wasted, even if my life depended on it.

So this is what happened. I was walking around town without a sense of time and looking like a zombie with my dirty clothes, deep black eye sockets and a skin as pale as the moon. People would back away or cross the street when they saw me and I wouldn't have noticed if my primary goal wasn't to get one of them to give me money. My fix, you know…. And then shit got worse.

After a while, could've been ten minutes or ten hours, I came up to a shop with big windows and saw a woman staring at it while holding her phone up to her ear. She was clearly talking with a friend and laughing, having a good time. I don't know what it was, why it happened or what it means, but my gut told me her phone was worth money and the purse she was holding probably contained some as well. I lunged towards her and used all of the strength I had left to swing my fist at the back of her head. I smacked her so hard she went flying face first into the window glass and perforated her eyes with thousands of shards. I could've ignored it and never give a single fuck ever, had it not been Lea's face I saw lying on the floor, jabbed open to make her almost unrecognizable.

Guys, I cried then and there, and that was one of the first times I did so. Not thinking clearly, or not at all, I took her phone and ran away. I came here, this calm neighbourhood to write this down and decide what my future will be. From what I can feel now, I suspect it might not be too long. My arm has been eaten away by a drug that wears its name well. The damage it causes gives your skin a leather, green/black look, making you look like a reptile. My arm is nothing more than a gaping wound and I believe I've done enough to mess everything up.

Mom, dad, if you're reading this, I want you to know that it helped. YOU helped. I know you loved me and I would like to say that I did too. But I am me, and fucked-up is my middle name.

Guys, boys, girls, good people… please don't do drugs, any, ever. They sound cool and make you feel like you can fit in, escape from reality, but they really destroy every chance of being genuinly happy and satisfied with the world.

If you should one day be confronted with this, do whatever suits you best. But I beg you to think of me and my story when you make the decision. For even though I have spent my life being high and living on clouds, I have never loved anyone or anything.