#fuckin do drugs until I die or something

[kaijuno]

I took an adderall and went shopping and did my taxes and filled out more disability paperwork and called a lawyer about it and got gas and the mail and I did all of it before noon what the fuck is this what it’s supposed to fucking be like???? Shit is this easy for y’all??? God damn. God fucking damn it I’m pissed I’ve been on hard mode this WHOLE FUCKING TIME????

#and no it’s way different than being manic because being manic just makes me wanna like #fuckin do drugs until I die or something #but this made me wanna do positive stuff like run errands #guess I’m making another dr appt

[spectres-n-soap]

All The Things I've Said PT2 - Ghost x Reader x Soap

Content Warnings - Ghosts past, tragic backstory™️, pregnancy, implied protective Ghost

Series Masterlist

Main Masterlist

A/N - 2/7 done.

Ghost has found that the times when you are gone from the flat while attending therapy is suffocating. He normally does not mind being alone or the silence that comes with it but after spending the last weeks with you, he finds that he hates it.

He tries to keep busy now instead of sitting around like a dog left at home while the owner goes shopping. Which is what he did the first few times you told him that you would text him when the session was over. He had wandered from the couch, to the dining room chairs and back to the couch so many times in just a few hours that he was sure he was going mad.

It wasn’t until the fourth day of this that something had clicked and he started this routine. You were heavily pregnant now and after the reveal that you’d likely have to get a c-section, he had picked up more chores around the house. He cleans the dishes, takes out the trash, makes your bed and does the laundry. He buys food for the house and keeps everything stocked. Ghost looks at the little sage green onesie in his hands and wonders if the baby will even fit. He saw the size of them, they were going to be a big and fat baby.

Ghost folds the onesie with a skill that had made his hands shake when he first did it. Joseph had been a very fat and happy baby. All smiles and giggles, only crying when hungry or having soiled his nappy. He had big blue eyes that Ghost can still recall with clarity but not without it being soiled with the memory of how those eyes looked when he was dead. Maybe that's why he couldn’t visit Johnny before he was cremated. His and Joseph’s eyes were so similar. He didn’t want the memory of two sets of blue eyes glazed over with the gray of death.

Ghost rubs the soft fabric of the beige pants that went with the white shirt he had just folded. It was soft, non irritating for a baby’s soft and delicate skin. His mind is drawn back to the past, back to when Beth had just finished her own baby shower and there were so many gifts.

Despite Ghost’s family being rather small, Beth’s was not. It had been refreshing and a little overwhelming to have so many people over. But his mum had enjoyed it, she had made so much food that despite the twenty people in that house there were still leftovers.

Beth rested her head against Tommy’s shoulder, tired from all the fuss and talking while Simon gathered up the trash. “You okay love?” Tommy asked softly and cupped Beth’s cheek. Beth smiled up at Simon’s brother and nodded.

“Jus’ tired. That’s all.” Beth yawned and Tommy smiled before he suggested she take a nap while he and Simon cleaned up. Beth didn’t need any convincing and with their mum’s help, waddled up the stairs to their bedroom. Simon kept putting things into the trash bag as Tommy gathered up the collection of blue onesies and outfits. Simon had never imagined Tommy being a father.

He had never envisioned either of them being fathers because of the shit job their father had done. And yet, here was Tommy. Married to a wonderfully kind woman with a baby on the way, clean from drugs and their father left to die from whatever cancers ate away at his body. Good fuckin’ riddiance thought Simon.

“You’re gonna be a good father.” Simon said, not exactly sure where that came from. Tommy smiled at him, brown eyes mirrored each other.

“And you’re gonna be a good uncle.” Tommy said as he folded up another blue onesie. “You’re already a good brother.” Simon shook his head but didn’t argue. He had told the military to fuck off, that he was going on leave to fix up the mess that was his family. He didn’t know how much longer he would be able to stay on hardship leave. Hopefully long enough to see baby Joseph.

“I’m doing what I’m meant to do.” Simon said with a shrug as he stuffed one last pile of ripped apart wrapping paper. “I came back for my family.”

“Thank you Simon.” Tommy placed a hand on Simon’s shoulder. “For making me get better.”

Simon shrugged off his hand, “I only threw the rope, you’re the one who had to climb.”

Ghost rewashes the baby bottles, not interested in the baby drinking from unwashed bottles. He watches the droplets slowly drip from the bottle as he sets them on the drying rack, he swallows as the memories claw up from the depths. He wishes they were happy still and not fucked up with blood and a type of grief that didn’t let go.

He looked down at the baby in his arms. All swaddled in a soft blue blanket with a blue boonie on his head. Baby Joseph. His face was still wrinkled and his eyes were shut, his mouth slightly open as he slept. There were feelings stirring deep within him that he had never felt before. There was this tiny life being held in his hands, hands that had killed and shot off guns that would surely ruin Joseph's hearing. And yet he was the only one holding him as Tommy doted on Beth after some skin to skin contact earlier.

Simon held his breath as Joseph blinked, his little blue eyes unfocused as he stared up at Simon. Joseph squinted and a small toothless smile appeared. “Hi Joseph.” Simon whispered as he looked down at his nephew and he felt tears appear in his eyes. “It's your uncle Simon.” Simon licked his dry lips as Joseph looked up at him, “I’ll protect you. I’ll protect your entire family. Promise.” Simon murmured, so quietly he almost didn’t hear himself say it.

Simon wipes at his eyes as the memory fades and leaves a bitter taste in his mouth. He checks his phone just as your text message appears, “I’m ready to be picked up.” Simon wipes his sweaty palms on his jeans before he grabs his keys as he stuffs down the emotions those memories conjure. You are not Beth. Johnny was not Tommy. And he was not going to let anything happen to you or that baby.

#john soap mactavish #john soap mctavish x reader #john soap mctavish x you #call of duty #cod #soap #ghost x reader #mw3 spoilers #simon ghost riley #thyh #thoyh #simon riley #simon riley x y/n #simon riley x you #ghost x y/n #ghost x you #ghost x soap x reader

[jacenotjason]

IM ON MY KNEES GIVE ME FACTS ABOUT SALLY PLEASE PLEASEEE I WILL LITERALLY PAY HOWDY FOR NO REASON I NEED TO KNOW STUFF ABOUT MY LITTLE GOOBER SALLY also can barnaby adopt me :)

AAA GET OFF THE FLOOR, DONT GIVE HOWDY MONEY, AND YES BARNABY WILL ADOPT YOU!!

What was i doing

Sally funfacts n not so funfacts round!! Right!! Ok!!

(Au MAstERPOST AA)

Fun Facts!!

She is a lesbian! At least in this au. Her sexuality isn’t confirmed (I don’t think) so to me shes a lesbian until it’s confirmed!

She is a REALLY good dancer. You spend all day inside online you’re gonna end up on some K-pop dancing tutorials.

She sits like a goddamn gremlin. Like fuckin L from death note but worse posture

Her computer is a Commodore 64 (or C64), aka the best computer you can get in like the 1980s.

She does all sorts of things on her computer, share art, talk to Julie, troll in chat rooms, play games, talk to Julie some more, look up recipes she’ll never do, order her food, and talk to Julie, of course!

^ she’s actually really goated at like most games, esp shooters

Her favorite food is microwave noodles :3

She really loves Julie. So so so much <3. She thinks shes the prettiest girl in the world and nearly faints every time she gets a kiss. They’re so cute. I’m not normally super into wlw ships being a dude, but these two are just- a- theyre so wholesome and cute and i love them they have a special place in my heart.

She owns a lock of Julie’s hair lol. Not because she was a creep and like snipped it when she wasn’t looking, Julie gave it willingly. it went something like this: “Julie your hair is really soft…” “Aw thanks.. do you want some of it lol?” “…kinda..” “why didn’t you just say that then, here..”

She really likes hyperpop and breakcore music! Julie thinks its weird, but loves her anyway lol. (I actually have a playlist dedicated to each character and Sally’s is mostly breakcore)

She was originally going to be a moon, but i liked the star better. I just like drawing the loopys

Sally smells like Julie because Julie regularly sprays her with perfume bc she smells kinda bad. (“Sally, I love you, but *spritz* thats better”)

Not-So Fun Facts

Sally is an addict. Mostly narcotics (cocaine), but she has a collection of prescription drugs, too.

She came to Home recovered, but Howdy got her hooked again

She regularly hallucinates being outside, despite not having left her house in about six years.

I imagine her hallucinations are really unnerving, like liminal space. Something just isn’t right.

Some people have argued with me that Sally shouldn’t “be in such good shape”, but shes really not. She’s just thin, doesn’t mean shes healthy, in fact she’s just thin because she regularly skips meals either because she forgets or because shes high. Cocaine skinny isn’t in shape, PSA lol

Sally’s house is really, really gross. Sally wears shoes all the time in her own house because you literally can’t see the floor anymore and she’s scared of what she’ll step on. Its all trash, boxes from packages, noodle containers, definitely does not smell pleasant.

She fears social interaction so much, if she were to overdose, she would rather die then call for help. Not even her survival instincts overpower her agoraphobia.

I don’t think I missed anything this time! Thanks for reading :D

#welcome home #welcome home opposite au #welcome home au #sally starlet #thanks for reading #sally x julie #julie x sally #sally welcome home #welcome home sally #julie joyful #thanks for the serotonin! #funfacts n not-so funfacts

[gallawitchxx]

🔮💨 WE'RE BACK BABY 🔮💨

hi buds! i'm writing this au 100 words at a time per the weekly prompts from @galladrabbles. prompted words are in PURPLE & there’s a 🔮💨 to note where each installment ends. thanks for reading! xx

the latest installment is #26: jello for the week of march 25, 2024

✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺ | ✺

If you’d have told Mickey Milkovich that by eighteen, he’d be Terry-free and running a drug-fueled, fortune-telling business out of the spare room, he would’ve said, “fuck off and eat shit.”

But here he is.

And here’s Ian Gallagher: lanky, alien-lookin’, and back for the third time to ask about his bootlicking future.

Mickey settles in, the snick of the lighter flooding his body with endorphins, and takes a hit. Breathes in deep, blows out slow. Avoids glowing green eyes that remind him just how big of a gamble this whole thing is.

“See anything yet?”

🔮💨

Fuck, his voice is so hopeful. Curious, in a way that sends Mickey’s blood both north and south. Makes him sway in his chair, lightheaded. Floating. High.

Until the flood came.

A breeze that nips the nose. Rosy cheeks, wide grin, a warm, open laugh. Lips press in a quick, familiar kiss. “Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick.” The playful smack of a big, freckled paw. A slight wince. A weariness. Creaky knees, an ache in the low back. Determination. Something that feels like there ain’t a right word for it in any language. “In your dreams, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

What in the fresh hell…

Mickey blinks—once, twice, three times—trying to harness whatever clarity might still be available to him between the weed and the horrifying scene still playing behind his eyelids.

He’s seen some shit before, doing this kinda work. Shit that’s freaked him out, confused both him and the clients desperate for information. Visions of blood, bile and beady red eyes. 

But never before has he himself shown up in anyone’s future.

“Didja see something?” Gallagher questions, scanning Mickey’s face with an intensity that flips his belly.

“Ask me again, I’ll cut your fuckin’ tongue out.”

🔮💨

Pink-tinged shame creeps up freckled cheeks, and Mickey’s instantly regretful. Gallagher’s a paying client, even if he does keep his cash in a dorky ass velcro wallet.

Their first two sessions had been fruitful, but incomplete. 

Boot camp fatigues. 

Helicopter blades. 

A set of dog tags that read Phillip Gallagher, instead of Ian.

No wonder he’d shown up again, eager for answers.

Still, old habits die hard. Feelings are a luxury afforded to people a whole lot richer than a Milkovich. It’s easier to lie and be safe.

“Sorry, man. Nothin’ today.”

His chest clenches as Gallagher’s face falls.

🔮💨

The fuck is Mickey supposed to do? Tell him that desperate as he is to get blown to bits in some godforsaken desert, what just came through was nothing more than a couple of sore, old queens chasing each other in the snow? Even worse, try to explain that those frosted fairies are somehow them?

No fucking way.

Gallagher leans back in the rusted metal folding chair. He crosses his arms, his shirt riding up, revealing soft hair and sharp hips. 

Heat licks at Mickey’s neck, along with the desire to wrap his legs around him and hold on tight.

🔮💨

“Okay… That’s okay,” he mumbles unconvincingly as he sits up again, his long fingers coming to rest on camo-clad thighs. Then, clearer, “Didn’t mean to pressure you or anything. Don’t really know how this shit works.”

“That makes two of us,” Mickey says before he can stop himself.

Pouty pink lips part, then tick upwards into a small smirk.

The moment lingers a bit too long, but Mickey’s now sufficiently stoned and ridiculously distracted by the deepening dimple in Gallagher’s chin to break it.

Something flickers between them. Cautious, curious, yet undeniably there. 

“So, uh… what’s it feel like?”

🔮💨

“What’s what feel like?” Mickey asks, still dazed.

“You know… seeing shit.”

Oh. That.

Mickey mulls it over. He could tell him what it doesn’t feel like — a fucking gift. Or whatever people call bullshit abilities like getting so blitzed that you catch sight of what’s still to come. It’s a burden. A plight. If it didn’t make him cash money, he’d honestly consider going off weed altogether. Simply stick to the sauce.

But then again, he wouldn’t have Gallagher in his house, looking at him like he’s gonna say something stupid like, I’d rather have you, cursed or not.

🔮💨

Mickey battles between being benevolent and brash; nature versus nurture at near-constant war within him. But before he can bark out anything at all, he feels another wave pulling him under.

“Turn this chick shit off, man.” Flexed fingers separate his own, sneaking between them and holding on tight. Strong shoulders shrug. “Think it’s kinda like us.” A belly full of butterflies. A pair of flushed faces. “You’re still into me, huh?” A nod, sure and steady. “Always gonna be into you, Mickey.”

That last line takes him longer to shake, and goddammit, there’s no way Gallagher didn’t notice.

🔮💨

“Did you—” he starts predictably. Then, he quickly snaps his jaw shut, trapping the question within.

Mickey sniffs, fiddles with the zipper of his cut-off hoodie, trying to kill time. Keep his hands busy so he doesn’t do something dumb. But there’s really only one way this is gonna go, and he knows it. If Gallagher has even a lick of self-preservation underneath that buzzcut, he should too.

“It feels like you should stop asking stupid fuckin’ questions.” He swallows any stray pangs of conscience as he shoves crumpled bills across the crooked card table that separates them.

🔮💨

He watches Gallagher’s eyes snap to the money. It’s today’s fee returned, plus a little extra; whatever else was in Mickey’s pocket now collateral for his cowardice. 

But he doesn’t take it. He doesn’t move at all.

“You fuckin’ deaf or somethin’?” Mickey shouts. Agitated. “In case you didn’t notice, we’re done here.”

Gallagher looks up. Stares straight into his goddamn soul. It’s terrifying—electrifying—and doesn’t hold a candle to the turmoil that rolls through him when that contact is suddenly gone, his gaze dropping to Mickey’s lips.

He fixates like he thinks they’ve already agreed to a truce.

🔮💨

“I know you saw something,” Gallagher whispers, stepping forward like a dead man on a mission.

Mickey winces. Wills himself back into his body, his eyes drifting shut as he calls to the scattered bits of his blissed out brain.

The time has come to fold. 

“Yeah…”

The chaos spreads the room as Gallagher shifts again. Mickey’s pulse races, relying on sound and vibration to track his movements.

“I just need to know one thing.”

Mickey peeks, curious, then breathless at their newfound proximity.

They lock in eye to eye as Gallagher rips them apart:

“Do I make it through?”

🔮💨

The realization that his silence has been interpreted as some kind of personal tragedy makes Mickey want to punch something.

Hard.

Jesus Christ, it breaks his heart.

With fated versions of them swimming around his psyche, Mickey lets himself wonder if Gallagher might feel the way he does—worries he’s too broken, too disenfranchised, too fucked for life for anyone to be insane enough to love him.

He can almost hear their future selves asking, do you still love me even though I’m flawed? Can almost hear their whispered answers, yes, yes, always yes.

“Yeah, man,” he assures. “You do.”

🔮💨

The relief is clear as day for both the out-of-his-depth diviner and his confused client. 

“Thanks,” Gallagher sniffs, eyes wide and wet. Everything feels fragile, like spun glass and cotton candy. Past their prime dandelions when a summer breeze kicks up. Not at all the way Mickey likes to feel—in his place of business, his own fucking home, his body… “See you next time?”

There is no next time with what Mickey now knows. Only half-truths and keeping his story straight. 

Gallagher turns.

If you tell the truth, you don’t have to remember anything.

“Don’t—”

🔮💨

There’s an old poem about hollow men. Stuffed men. Men without sight; shape without form. Line after line of war and faith and shadows. Mickey’s not sure why he knows it. Doesn’t fully understand how it’s come to live in his brain and his bones. But here it is now:

This is the way the world ends.

Gallagher turns, his gaze a challenge. “Don’t what?”

This is the way the world ends.

“Just…”

This is the way the world ends.

Mickey’s breath catches in his throat.

Not with a bang but a whimper.

Gallagher’s lips twitch, but he stays put.

🔮💨

Maybe if those empty men were born in a different time, to other people, and raised under disparate circumstances, they would’ve been able to muster the courage to scream. To cry out their wants. Give voice to their needs.

(Could a couple of doped-up visions really create a need?)

As Gallagher continues to wait—not patiently, per se, but it’s perseverance nonetheless—it dawns on Mickey while he might have been born a worthless man, he doesn’t have to carry on that way.

His situation ain’t what it used to be.

“Can’t tell you what I saw,” he manages.

🔮💨

Gallagher’s hands flex at his sides, and it’s like Mickey’s noticing them for the first time. He ogles at how big they are, how speckled, how good they’d felt around his own hands in that last vision, how much he wants to feel them around his waist, his throat, his dick…

Flushed, and desperate to end this fucked up double date they’re on with their future selves, Mickey looks down at the soiled carpet.

“But I’m alive?” Gallagher asks.

“Very,” Mickey confirms, eyes lifting again. “Look happy.”

Gallagher’s grin sends sunlight streaming through a house once destined for eternal darkness.

🔮💨

“Thanks Mick.”

The nickname zigzags its way beneath Mickey’s skin like he’s a human pinball machine.

“Betcha I can still beat you back, Mick,” echoes an Ian who’s yet to be made real.

Mickey rubs at his bottom lip, hiding the smile that’s threatening to slip. Tries to play it off as a grimace. But Gallagher sees him—really sees him—and beams. A dream, how his smile implies that he’ll wait for Mickey to get there too.

And he will.

Mickey’s seen it. 

Which gives him the confidence to say, “Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.”

🔮💨

The Universe takes “whenever” seriously, and in the days that follow, seizes full control of Mickey’s highs:

A broad chest pressed to his back. Arms wrapped around his neck.“Love is a battlefield!” Hoarse throats. Wide smiles. Two hearts near bursting.

Full-bodied wine. Pasta sauce on the stove. Tight jeans. Tighter tank. “You look good enough to eat, Mr. Milkovich.” “Bon appetite, Mr. Gallagher.” 

“I love you, baby.” “Love you, Ian.”

Having waited the full week, Ian finally arrives on the Milkovich steps, dressed down in a striped shirt that makes Mickey’s mouth dry.

He hopes it’s cotton mouth…

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🔮💨 CHAPTER TWO 🔮💨

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Ian’s knuckles pulse from the pert pace at which he raps on the Milkovich door.

It’s torture to just stand there and wait, held captive and stripped bare, nerves torn to pieces and praying for a little compassion.

He hopes Mickey’s home. They never confirmed his appointment. Ian’s just going off of his final words—Come back. Next week. Or whenever. Try this again.—before he turned away to find another cigarette.

Ian’s watched the entirety of their last encounter on a loop ever since, like a fucked up foreign film. No subtitles, just mixed (smoke) signals, confusion, and Mickey.

🔮💨

His whole experience with Mickey Milkovich, Southside’s Supreme Stoner Psychic, has been baffling to say the least.

At first, Ian wasn’t buying it. It’s gotta be some kind of scam! But Mickey’s built a solid reputation for being accurate and to the point. Besides, Ian’s always had a little bit of a crush. A death wish, too. So he paid Mickey his money and left with some fragments of his fated future.

He also left with a hunch that his feelings might not be so one-sided... Mickey didn’t hand over a Valentine’s card, but Ian saw the way he’d stared.

🔮💨

He’s still picturing it when Mickey swings open the door and crosses his arms over his chest, tugging at the buttons of his black dress shirt.

Okay, formal, Ian thinks, taking in Mickey’s slicked back hair and the smoke of his cologne.

Ian regrets his tee and jeans, missing the authority and confidence of his uniform. But Mickey doesn’t seem to mind—there’s hunger in his gaze again, twin storm clouds rolling in over a calm sea.

For a moment, they both look their fill.

Ian opens his mouth to speak, but fails.

Mickey smirks. “Comin’ in or what, Mushmouth?”

🔮💨

He steps back, giving Ian space to cross over the threshold; inviting him to close the distance between them, and commit to finding out what comes next.

Ian obeys every silent order. His feet move of their own volition, as if they’re attached to a ratchet wrench that pulls him forward in one direction, and one direction only: towards Mickey.

The electric current that runs between them had felt innocent enough last week, and then again, today, in the fresh air of the porch.

But when Mickey shuts the door to behind them, Ian realizes he’s caught in a trap.

🔮💨

The house smells different. Good, even? Like something's cooking in an oven that hasn’t been used in years. It’s familiar in a way that tickles at Ian’s memory and further drops his defenses.

Mickey doesn’t mention it. He just brushes past Ian, leading them towards the room he’s been using for business.

On the table, next to Mickey’s bong, is a platter of pizza rolls. Ian’s mouth waters.

Mickey thumbs at his nose. “You’ve lost your way, you think your life is wrecked,” he says, taking his seat. “Well, let me just say you're correct.”

Ian blinks twice. “Wait, what?”

🔮💨

Mickey’s eerie silence pulls the moisture from his mouth until he’s nothing more than a shriveled sack of dust. A tumbleweed in the desert, crawling towards an oasis that might not be real.

What Ian wouldn’t give for Mickey to pick up his piece and press his worries into the earth; bury them in the plush of ground weed. He wants to watch the water swirl beneath colored glass, wants to watch the fire turn into steam and smoke. Needs to see the air fill Mickey’s chest, raise his shoulders and bloat his lungs.

Finally:

“I know your secret, Gallagher.”

🔮💨

Ian’s heart kicks in his chest, a jolt of fear spiking through him, and his head swims. It’s like he’s back inside the dark theatre he’d been in all week. Mickey’s words are nothing but unfamiliar sounds.

If he’s gonna go to the movies, he might as well get a snack.

He grabs a pizza roll from the plate in front of him and pops it in his mouth. But when he bites down, the inevitable happens.

“Fuck,” he garbles, the sauce piping hot and burning his mouth.

Ian doubles over, in pain and embarrassed. He really should’ve known better.

🔮💨

“Jesus Christ,” Mickey huffs, standing up and leaving the room.

Ian opens his inferno of a mouth, hoping the air of the room will cool down the masticated snack. Thankfully, by the time he hears the familiar sound of a beer cap being popped off, he’s able to swallow.

Mickey returns, bottle in hand. He offers it to Ian. “S’all we got.”

Ian takes it, grateful as the icy liquid chills his charred throat. “All you got, huh? Even juvie’s got jello.”

“What d’you know about juvie, Gallagher?”

Mickey’s squint makes Ian’s chest constrict.

“What d’you know about me, Milkovich?”

#we love a master post moment! #updates weekly babes 🔮💨 #crystal ball weed bong mickey ily #bright eyed bootlicker ian you are so precious #shameless #shameless fanfiction #galladrabbles #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #ian x mickey #bee writes 🐝 ✍🏼

[carolmunson]

video killed the radio star (rockstar!eddie)

rockstar!eddie and you, his wife that he literally is so horny for all the time are caught up in a sex tape scandal. this is so stupid and dumb and lame and silly but i had a lot of fun writing it. i love how in love he is with his lil’ wife, it makes me wanna DIE.  inspired by this anon: rockstar!eddie and actress!readers sex tape being leaked and the whole thing is just eddie being a simp for her and giving her praise after praise plus most of the movie is just him eating her out and doing the helicopter with his dick

warnings: 18+, female anatomy mention, oral (f receiving), mention of oral (m receiving), drug use, drinking, consensual filming of sex acts, consensual drunk/high sex between a married couple, mild daddy kink if you squint, mentions of restraints, etc. 

CORRODED COFFIN GUITAR LEGEND EDDIE MUNSON AND LEAD INGENUE ACTRESS OF OUR TIME CAUGHT IN SEX TAPE SCANDAL! 

For you, it had been a mortifying ordeal. For Eddie, damage control was his middle name. Both of your PR teams begging him to come up with something slick and charming on a press circuit to help lessen the blow. They didn’t want you talking about it, too clean of a record to even be asked about it. The most dangerous thing about you was that you married a metal guitar legend with a bad reputation. His good little angel compared to his bad boy persona.  It was the Leno interview that softened the blow.  “So Ed, we gotta talk about it.”

“Talk about what, Jay? What ever do you mean?” The audience laughs, his charming and knowing smile flashes to the crowd.

“The tape, c’mon, Ed! I haven’t seen it, but I can bet there are people at home that have seen it. And you know something, I hear the ladies are going wild over it!”  “And shouldn’t that tell you something Jay? All these ladies in a tizzy cause their man can’t satisfy them. Guys talking about what a pussy I am for telling my girl how much I love her. Can’t a man love his wife?” he turns his attention to the audience, “Can’t a man love his wife?”  The audience cheers.  “You know, I could be embarrassed, and my baby? She’s mortified. But she’s got nothin’ to be embarrassed about. She doesn’t even do anything! She’s innocent!”  “And how’re you feeling about it?”  “I think, it was a private moment, and someone took advantage of that. But on the bright side, it ends before any of these horny assholes can see what my wife can do in bed. No one’s thinking about how they can handle her but me. I’m sleeping like a baby.”  You both sat on the couch in your living room at the Malibu house the next week. You both knew what was on the tape, but you hadn’t watched it – deciding that now that things had died down in the press a little bit, it would sting less. The tape warped to start, fading in from static snow, to lines running across the screen – pulling the picture left and right with each glide down the picture. Another fade to static, then – 

“Okay, okay, it’s recording,” you heard, and just the image of Eddie’s collar bone and his chain dangling in front of him filled the screen. You watched him as he stepped back until his full body was in frame, he gave the lens a thumbs up. You could see yourself, sitting back on your heels on the mattress – completely naked. At first, you’re mortified – so many people in America are seeing this, have seen it, still might see it. The legal battle of getting the tapes destroyed has been raging for weeks. Deep down, you know it’s never really going to be gone, but at least –  “Baby, it’s not that bad, I think this is the only time we see you like this,” Eddie mumbles, kissing the bare skin of your shoulder, “Let’s just keep watching.” 

“Of course you wanna keep watching,” you said, rolling your eyes, “We were there, honey, why do we need to watch it?”  The Eddie on screen started talking, “Hey -hic!- future Eddie, here with our smokin’ hot wife on our honeymoon. Consider this a gift or something, I don’t fuckin’ know, we’re so fucked up right now.” 

“That’s why,” your real Eddie said, pointing at himself on the screen, “We were a little loose that day, baby, c’mon.” 

“I hate this,” you pouted, pausing the video with the remote. The VCR whirred and the edges of the screen pulled. You admired him in the frame, his skin covered in tattoos, his hair messy over his shoulders, his body defined but still somehow soft in his posture.  “We can stop,” he said, putting his hand over yours on the remote.  You sighed, considering it, “No, no, it’s like ripping the band aid off, let’s just…I don’t know, let’s just get it over with.”  Eddie grinned, taking the remote out of your hand and clicking play. You watched the image spring to life again while video Eddie grabbed a half empty bottle of Jack Daniel’s off the side table and took a swig.  “And for the lady,” he said, reaching for a bottle of Dom Pérignon off screen and shaking it up to open at the end of the bed. 

“Baby, don’t waste it! That was a gift,” you laughed while the champagne sprayed over you, still so careful in your tipsy haze. He passed the bottle to you, kneeling on the bed. He let his tongue slide from the side of your breast to your neck, collecting drips of champagne off your skin.  “We can always get more,” he mumbled into your neck, “Lemme clean up my mess first.”  You saw yourself take gulps from the bottle, leaning over to place it next to his bottle of Jack. You both fumbled around each other a little awkwardly until he had his hands on your waist. You watch him run his mouth from your belly button up between your breasts in fat stripes with his tongue, you mewling at every nip he gave at the end.  “Fuck baby, you’re so fuckin’ pretty,” he breathed, “Let daddy tie you up so he can worship you.”  “Oh,” you pouted, “You want me to keep my hands to myself?” 

“Jesus fuck,” he slurred, “No, don’t keep your hands to yourself. Wanna feel you all over me.” You pulled him into a kiss, tangling your hands in his hair while he eased you down on the mattress. Just the side of your body visible, angled away from the camera enough that your arm obscured your breasts.  Eddie got up and walked out of frame, coming back while slapping a little baggie onto his palm, pouring it out on a neat line down your sternum to the top of your belly button. He snorted from the top down, gliding his tongue back up to swipe up whatever coke he left behind, letting his tongue flick at a nipple before reaching back to your mouth. You squealed into his kiss, wrapping your legs around his waist, his nylon black boxer briefs grinding mercilessly against you.  “God, you’re so hot…” Eddie whispered under his breath next to you on the couch.   “Are you like – are you getting off to this?” you asked, a scoff escaping you.  “I’m sorry? Am I getting off to this? I’m watching a home video of me fucking my hot wife. Do you think I’m not rock fucking hard right now?” he asked, gesturing at the television while the film him left a trail of kisses down your body, “This is like…this is PEAK porn, babe. This is my ideal porn.” 

“I don’t even go down on you in it,” you said, adjusting on the couch so your head was on his lap. You could feel his erection in his jeans.  “I don’t need a video of you sucking my cock, sweet thing,” he said with a smirk, “I got that tattooed on the inside of my eyelids.” His eyes were still glued to the screen while one of his hands smoothed over your hair. ‘Oh, baby, yes, oooh! Unh! That feels so good,’ your voice leaked out of the TV speakers. 

Eddie eyes rolled into the back of his head and he bit his fist at the sound, “That is what makes it ideal. Those little sounds you make? Ugh, fuck. Now that’s music.”  You blushed and turned your head back to the screen, Ed’s bitten fist now splayed over your thigh.  On the screen, Eddie had your legs apart, bent at the knees, his mouth lingering over your puffy lips while looking up at you.  “Please more,” you whined at him, putting your hand on the top of his head, “I need it."

“You’ve been so patient all day for it, haven’t you, baby?” he asked, grazing his fingertips up and down your inner thigh.  “Yes, so patient,” you whined, grinding your hips into the mattress in slow circles.  “You’re so perfect,” he said, kissing where his fingers traced, “My pretty girl.” 

He traveled down, painstakingly slow while your fingers gripped his hair, “Gonna worship this pussy the way you deserve.”  He made slow, deliberate swipes of his tongue, lapping up salty sweetness while he kept your lips open with his fingers. His nose brushing your clit while he kept full attention to your other aching spots between your legs. He liked to get deep into it, practically swimming in your slickness before he made any moves that would send you over the edge.  Hearing the squelches and sounds through the TV made you involuntarily clench, your thighs squeezing together. You remembered how good he made you feel that night through your drunken haze. He always made you feel good, but the high of the wedding, the romance of the honeymoon – it was all that and more.   “Oooh, yes, Eddie right there!” you moaned out, leaning up on your elbows and forearms on the mattress in your honeymoon suite. Eddie was latched onto your clit, sucking diligently while his fingertips teased your entrance.  “Love when you say my name, princess,” he said gruffly against your thigh, taking a breath before diving back in.  “Eddie, Ed–oh! Oh god, yes, yes,” your voice was choking out of you while two fingers slid into you with ease, his tongue still lapping and fluttering at your clit while you clenched around him.  “So wet for me, such a pretty fucking pussy,” he muttered, reaching his other hand up to graze one of his thumbs over your nipples, pinching after every few strokes. While it wasn’t always your first source of stimulation, he always knew you liked it right before you were about to finish.  “You’re doing so good, sweet thing,” he cooed while his fingers picked up the pace, your head lolling back trying to get a handle on your moans so anyone else on the floor wouldn’t hear.  “That feels so good, huh?” he mocked while you whimpered at his fingers curling upwards into you. Your hips jolted at the feeling, bucking and writhing while he kept hitting the same spot over and over.  “So good, baby,” you huffed, your eyes brimming with tears while ecstasy rose in your chest.   “You ready for me?” he asked. You nodded feverishly at him while he slipped his fingers out of you. He sat up and put his wet fingers to your mouth where you sucked your slickness off obediently, a moment to bring you back down with him to prepare for the next round.  “You’re so pretty like that,” he said, taking his fingers out and kissing you wetly on the mouth, “My beautiful baby, you’re so pretty.”  You blushed at the praise, in the video, and on the couch with your real life husband. 

“Lemme get a condom hold on,” he said, a little laugh coming out of his mouth from his chest. You laid down with your back to the camera while Eddie hopped out of frame, you could hear bottles clinking and plastic being shuffled in the background. 

“That fat fuckin’ ass…” Eddie mumbled to himself on the couch, “Fuck.”  On the screen, only half of Eddie appears in the background – his dick now on full display.  “Babe, babe look,” his laugh infectious. He shook his hips until his erection swung in a full circle around itself. He laughed again, your back shook in the frame, your little giggles echoing through the speakers in your living room.  “Look how fast I can make it go,” his voice was love drunk. He sped up the pace of his hips as his cock whirled around, balls slapping against his thighs as he did it.  “You’re so stupid,” you laughed from the bed. He bent down into the frame, a hand softly caressing your shoulder, leaning in to kiss you.  “You make me so stupid. I love you so much,” he smiled. He got back up, walking closer to the camera, Trojan in hand, and tripped. The image on the screen whirled, showing the ceiling and the back of the room before the camera fell with a hard ‘CLUNK!’ on the ground.  A quiet, ‘Oh shit!’ was heard, before the static snow flashed and fluttered to a steady stream on the screen.  “See, I told you baby, not so bad,” Eddie said on the couch, his palm sliding up and down your thigh. “Just me telling you what a pretty girl you are.”  You didn’t respond for a second.  “You okay?” he asked, his brow gently furrowing in concern, “We’ll get it sorted out, sweet thing, I promise.” 

“I’m okay, I just–” your legs parted slightly, your face reddened, “I kind of wanted to see what happened next.” 

Eddie grinned, getting up from the couch. He hoisted you up over his shoulder, bending you at the hips, smacking your ass hard over your tennis skirt to hear you yelp. He started walking you up the stairs to your bedroom, a dirty little look on his face while you kicked your legs.  “Can we film this, too?” Eddie asked, “It could be fun. Like an anniversary present.” 

“Absolutely not.” 

#eddie munson rockstar au #rockstar!eddie munson smut #rockstar!eddie smut #rockstar!eddie munson #rockstar!eddie #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson smut #dom eddie munson #eddie munson fan fiction #stranger things au #eddie munson au #rockstar!eddie au #stranger things fanfiction

[a-friend-of-mara]

Hey uh

I'm leaving my mask at the door for a minute

If you enjoy the image of myself I put forward, the happy cheery autistic trans girl who doesn't dwell on her issues

Please just ignore this post

If you are uncomfortable with mentions of self harm, talking about non prescription drug addiction, suicide rates of trans kids

Please just go

Look

I say my biggest fear is that I'll be forgotten

It's easier than saying that I'm scared to death of myself

I'm worried I'll give up on life and stop eating... considering I can't gain or maintain weight I'd have a week before I was dead at the most

I'm afraid that I'll give up trying to look like the person I want to be rather than being stuck, trapped in a body that isn't mine but I'm wired up to like some sick torture method

I don't want to fall into drug use or self harm hoping that it'd pull me out of this pit of self hatred and hopelessness

I don't wanna be another tally mark on the trans suicide charts

I don't wanna die

I feel like I'm suffocating

That I can't move my legs... only the ones attached to me

I don't even know if I matter at this point

I just

I wanna be me

Not some false image that I was born with

Nobody understands how it is for me

My dad almost killed me with th fact he understood so little he put me into survival mode where I cared about nothing but staying alive because of how much damage his insistence that my body was in fact his son and not the cage that trapped his daughter

He used to have twins now he just has one kid with her twin sister... my sister

Now I live with my mom who doesn't understand, how could she? She's never wanted to tear her skin off because it wasn't hers... she understands how much I hurt though

She's able to see through my mask that I'm really suffering inside

Without her yall wouldn't have ever known I existed

You would've heard a news article of a trans kid who killed herself by diving off the balcony at her school although the media would misgender me.

I've almost done it

Sitting on the edge of a lethal drop fighting with myself to not do it

Not sure if I was lying when i told myself things would get better

I'm not sure if they are

Everything just keeps getting worse and worse

I can't even cry anymore

I don't care about so many things that I used to

I used to love

Then I was heartbroken

I used to care for my friends

Until I moved away

I used to enjoy helping others

Now I'm so tired I can't

Just

Fuck

It's kinda funny

How part of me thinks it's all my fault

How I'm not sure if it's something I did

But then I have to think

What could I possibly have done that'd make this torment justified?

How can any higher power exist when I've prayed to every God and Goddess I've ever learned of and not once has a goddam thing happened

How would a higher power let the world get this fucked up

Fuckin hell

My trans siblings are getting murdered for being themselves

Innocent people who live in unfortunate places are being killed because of stupid ass reasons

Fucking hell in America most people aren't free enough to take a month off work without becoming homeless

Decades of prejudice make people think women are weak and need defending but don't pay them well because... fuckin I don't know why!

It's pathetic that men get away with rape while women get away with false rape accusations usually destroying every relationship the man ever cared about

People look at others and treat them differently based on the color of their skin

YA KNOW HOW FUCKIN STUPID THAT IS?!

ITS DUMBER THAN PICKING ON SOMEONE WHO WORE A BLUE SHIRT PURELY BECAUSE OF THE SHIRT

What for?!

WHAT THE FUCK IS ALL THIS FOR?!

The privilege to go through 12 to 20 years of school to earn the right to have to work a job I'll probably hate until I'm like 60?!

Right now I'm pretty sure my life is gonna end before I reach 30!

What's the fuckin point?!

America for fucks sake

The land of the free

Yeah free to work or die because the 0.01% run the fucking nation like their playground

People wonder why I've responded to hostility with hostility in the last 3 years

Simple

I've bottled my emotions for so long the bottles are all full

Yelling and ranting always make me feel a little better

If anyone comments on this negatively I hope you die in a vat of boiling vinegar and drown in the yolks of rotten eggs

That goes for all the phobic people too

If you made it through this whole essay sized emotional breakdown and don't think I'm a complaining winey bitch

I can only say I wish the world was made of more people like you

Alright

Time for sleep

#tw: depression #tw depressing stuff #tw self destructive behavior #trans #trans woman #me #depressing shit #trans struggles

[i-write-hurt-not-comfort]

so yesterday after me and a few others finished watching my vampire boyfriend, we got talking about ships and laito and stuff on call. and we had a particularly interesting conversation about laito and his loneliness. i feel like i need to write it down somewhere. 

// typical-laito themes, mentions of suicide and drugs under the cut. this is a long ass post. 

so in my head when i start pairing up everyone in DL, it goes as follows: 

kino gets with yuri, obviously. shin and carla have each other - whether you make that incest or just as brothers keeping each other company, isolated as founders. then you get shu and yuma, reiji and ruki, kou and subaru and i do like azusa and kanato; they are official rivals too. 

that leaves ayato and laito but goddamn, ayayui is my STRONG bias, so i’m gonna take ayato and put him with yui. 

who does that leave? laito. 

laito as a character is SO fuckin lonely. someone said yesterday that he was like a side character in his own routes and yknow what, it’s so painfully true. laito’s routes are so isolated from everyone else. yeah he rivals with kou in more blood but not in the same way as subaru rivals with kou. 

sure, ayato TRIES really hard to get through to laito, in both drama CDs and the games, ESPECIALLY lost eden. but laito generally turns it away. he isolates himself so hard, to the point where he is straight up suicidal and prepared to die so that he doesn’t have to carry the burden of having the powers of the man he hated the most in the whole word. 

until laito fully understands himself, his feelings and his trauma, i don’t think he will ever be able to love somebody. in fact when i look at all of the guys, i genuinely think laito is the only one who i don’t think will ever manage to have a healthy relationship. he might do “his best” but frankly i don’t think his best attempt at loving and trusting yui is enough and she would deserve so much better. 

laito’s existence is a pit - there’s that one quote that diane says in bojack horseman where she says “i’m a pit that good things fall into” or something like that. and damn, yeah, that reminds me of laito. i think back to lost eden when he says “i want you to let me hate you” 

this chronic emptiness is precisely why laito’s routes never feel like laito’s routes. his childhood was stolen and i don’t think he’ll ever get his sense of self back. hell i don’t think he ever developed one. this is one of the major reasons i think he has BPD. 

and this, all this, is why laito as a drug addict makes So Much Goddamn Sense. if he found something which made him feel good, confident and just a little bit more whole, he’d throw himself into it headfirst. and if he dies, he dies. but addiction is lonely. in the long term, it’d make him so much worse. 

laito loses himself very easily in more blood, dark fate and lost eden when bad things set him off. frankly i don’t think he has much of a chance after everything and we definitely see that. 

in fact in his lost eden vampire ending when he resets his existence or something and lives his life with yui without his memories of his mother, it’s pretty interesting that this is the only time he’s ever truly been happy. all the time he’s living in the shadow of what cordelia did to him, i don’t think he has much of a chance at a happy ending. 

thank u for coming to my tedtalk. i could talk about laito for hours. 

#diabolik lovers #laito sakamaki #text

[homunculus-argument]

It might be helpful to get an exercise buddy if you can.

Honestly though, I’m adhd too and I’m in kinda the same boat. If I don’t maintain a certain level of muscle mass my joints start crapping out in a major way. It’s been that way since I was 15 and it’ll be that way until I die. One of those fun chronic conditions.

If you’re anything like me, you have to just do it. Purely brute force your way into it until you can gaslight yourself into liking SOMETHING about it. Or until you get used to it. It fucking sucks but sometimes things suck and you have to do them anyways. You already have the motivation to do it, you just don’t want to, and there’s no fun tip or trick out of it.

I usually put on a podcast if I’m going to be lifting weights or doing cardio, it helps me not get distracted by changing the music. Varying the exercise I do makes it a little less grueling on a physical level. A class of some sort might help. Maybe not sports, but intro to weight lifting, a spin class, etc. I found that early on they helped me have direction and took some of the mental block of having to choose what to do and figure out the machines on my own. I did martial arts as a kid too, and I liked that well enough. Mostly because I got to hit things and I was an angry kid but it’s individual and it has a built in variety of things to do, external rewards system, and clear instructions.

If you don’t need it done in a single block, body weight exercises might be helpful. Over time I’ve been able to redirect some hyperactivity into doing wall sits or whatever during downtime at work or between classes. One of my coworkers (she and her girlfriend also have adhd) changed their sleep schedules to get up at 5am so they could work out first thing in the morning. It works for them, so getting it out of the way first thing in the morning or at a set time may be helpful.

However, if you physically don’t get endorphins from exercise at all no matter the intensity or duration, you may have some brain chemistry stuff going on. I’m not a doctor, but I actually couldn’t feel that post workout high until I was medicated for my depression. That first workout after they kicked in was fuckin crazy. It felt more like drugs than drugs did

Yeah, doing a buddy system thing with my boyfriend worked once already, we're trying that again.

[dilf-enthusiast420]

feelz (ii)

find part i

next part

[dealer!eddie]

~

eddies pov

“I would never put a knife in your back, the love i give her is kinda creepy but fuck it she orders and i deliver”

Eddie was absolutely positively living right now. here you were in all you gorgeous, gorgeous, glory. Sitting criss-crossed in his room. on his fucking bed. 

And he was just standing front of you like an idiot.

“You just gonna stand there? I can leave if you want..” no, no, no ,no

“no no i'm fine, i’ve just,” never had a girl in my room? thats pathetic eddie. “had a lot of caffeine? i’m just a bit wired..” real fuckin smooth eddie. You idiot.

“oh.” you stare at him “so.. you gonna stand there or start rolling?”

“right! I'll start, uh, doing that.” Eddie fumbles around his room for a bit before finding the box he keeps his stash in and gets out the necessities. 

Meanwhile, you uncross your legs and lean back on his bed and start looking at your surroundings. Eddie can't stand the silence but would rather die than speak in fear of him accidentally making a fool out of himself. 

so, of course, you’re the one to break the silence. “I wanted to smoke with you to get to know you better.. If you were uh, wondering.” eddie stills. He wants to cry. Or die. Both sound like a solid option at the moment. “Me?”

“uh, yeah. You deal to me yet I know nothing about you, other than what other people have to say. But if you ask me, they seem a bit biased.” you take a breath. “I wanna know eddie. Not Eddie “the freak” just good ‘ol Eddie munson” Eddie looks up at his ceiling.

God? is that you?

He looks back at you, “ well uh. What do you wanna know? I'm weird and do drugs.” he shrugs.

you look at him for a second, eyebrows furrowed in a way that eddie cant help but think is absolutely adorable “What’s your favorite color?” he looks at you to see what color shirt you have on. “Green.” he grabs the two neatly rolled joints and grabs his lighter then hands you one.

you put the joint in your mouth and eddie is completely transfixed onthe way you hold it between your fingers and place it between those perfectly kissable lips. you grab the lighter from his hand, and eddie cant help but notice had soft your hand is even if he only felt the pads of your fingertips, and light the joint between your lips.

eddie feels like he cant breath. 

you take a puff and resume talking. “good to know. but you and i both not thats not what i meant. ask me something, to start?” you take another drag and give him the lighter.

he grabs the light from your (significantly) smaller hands and subtly tries to flex just how much bigger his hands are. girls like that right? she probably didnt even notice. (you did)

he lights his own joint while thinking of what to ask but the space between you was kind of suffocating. he doesn't know when but you were sitting against his head board with one leg hanging off the side while he sits just a little bit above the middle of the bed with his legs criss crossed. 

he takes a long drag to stall some more.

“tell me about your first friend?” god eddie. would it kill you to be somewhat original?

“well, her name was jaden and we were friends from 1st grade up until i moved here” you shrug and take another hit. “we were pretty close but when i moved she practically ghosted me and i found out from a mutual friend she started dating my ex.” you say it with such a casuality that eddie can’t tell if your hurt or just dont care anymore.

well now i feel like an asshole.. “oh wow. that sucks. sorry.” he looks down at his hands feeling bad for asking you such a question, as if he could have could have known.

“im over it. she was a kind of a bitch” you chuckled and finished your joint. “so eddie, why do you let me smoke for free?” you look at him with your lips curling into a coy smile.

“well uh. you see, i just uh, your new. and well, new people should uh. well- you’re nice and pretty. so you should smoke for free.” eddie stops speaking and feels like his brain just exploded. why did i think smoking with the person i would like to have my children would be a good idea?

the room feels like its getting warmer with each minute (second) eddie waits for you to say something.

you laugh. “thanks eds. i think you’re pretty too.”

what.

eddie is staring wide eyed, mouth slightly agape. you stare at him in return, though it feels like you’re staring through him rather than at him. 

“oh.”

“oh?” you question.

“oh.” he confirms.

you eye him skeptically, then lean your head back against his headboard, exposing the unmarked column of your throat.

eddie’s mouth gets dry and its not because of cotton mouth.

“hey y/n”

“hm?” you hum

“can i.. try something?” this is such a stupid idea.

“yeah go ‘head” you tilt your head to look at him

now or fucking never

eddie leans forward and places his lips against yours.

it’s nothing but inexperience on eddie’s part. but he couldn’t have imagined anything even close enough to the euphoria he’s feeling right now.

and he’s done shrooms before.

you both kind of just, sit there. lips placed on each others. unmoving. 

eddie pulls back fearing that he fucked everything up because his stupid brain thought maybe, maybe, you could have wanted something more.

“was that your first kiss?” 

ouch.

“that obvious? im sorry. i shouldnt have- you can just- you can uh, you can leave im really sorry-” .” he starts to get up just before you grab him by the the collar of his infamous hellfire shirt and place your lips against his, moving them with such experience that eddie cant even be bothered to feel jealous when it feels so damn good.

but just like that. you pull your lips off his stand, stand up, grab your bag, and say “its getting late, see ya later.” and walk out leaving eddie with one thought only.

what the fuck.

~~

hope you liked? this is gonna be a mini series so stick around if you’re interested :)

#eddie munson #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x you #stranger things #stranger things fanfiction #x reader #x y/n #x you #song fic

[writtenjewels]

Mirrored part 2

Part One

Jason was relieved when the angry Iraqi soldier-- Salim-- agreed to team up with him. He could tell the man did so very reluctantly, but at least he wasn't pointing his gun at Jason anymore. Of course, Salim had every right to not trust Jason or any of the other American soldiers. They came here thinking they were going after chemical weapons, but all they found in that hut were drug-trafficking shepherds. Not legal, but relatively harmless.

“If I think you are trying to cross me,” Salim spoke up, “believe that in the next moment you'll be dead.”

“I'm a marine; I ain't afraid to die,” Jason replied. The guy hadn't thought much of Jason's offer of a tent peg so Jason held onto it along with his pistol. They came to a door and Jason suggested they lift it together. It was insanely heavy and Jason barely managed to crawl through before the thing came crashing down again.

“You okay?” he called out.

“Yes,” came Salim's reply. “But I will need another way to get through.” Jason searched around until he found an opening. All he needed was to move some rocks. “Do you truly believe we're dealing with vampires?” Salim asked him.

“Sure. We bagged one and it lit up like a fuckin' Christmas tree when our C. O. ran a UV light over the body. Like they say, if somethin' looks like shit and smells like shit--”

“You don't have to taste it to know that it's shit,” Salim finished for him. Jason let out a snort. He never heard it phrased like that before but at least Salim was being civil to him. It was a step in the right direction.

They resumed as soon as they were reunited. Salim surprised him by asking what he would do when he got out. “Probably just go for a drink,” Jason shrugged. Feeling encouraged, he returned the question: “What about you?”

“Hold my son,” Salim responded without hesitation.

“You got a kid?” Jason asked. “How old?” Salim was quiet for a long time. Finally, he turned to look at Jason and spoke.

“He turned eighteen today.”

“Holy shit.” Jason almost said that Salim looked good for a father of a teenager, but stopped himself at the last minute. He wanted the two of them to get along; the last thing he should do was try flirting with the guy and risk pissing him off. “I'll make sure you get home,” Jason said instead. “You'll get that hug.” Salim's eyes widened as he stared at Jason.

“Thank you,” he said hesitantly. They made it to double doors that were heavy enough to need both of them pushing. How the hell did people in ancient times get anywhere when it took this much effort to open a door?

“Wonder why they built it like this?” Jason mused aloud.

“To keep... people like you... out,” Salim grunted. Jason let out a tired sigh and dropped his arms away from the door.

“Y'know, I ain't got any beef with you.”

“Your uniform tells a different story,” Salim retorted.

“I donno how you got room for all that anger with that swelled head of yours,” Jason grumbled.

“Do yourself a favor and shut up.” Salim resumed pushing and Jason sighed, doing the same. Looked like they were back to square one, after all. He heard a familiar clicking noise behind them and looked, seeing one of the vampires crawl out of some hole.

“Shit! I got this, you keep on with the door!” He opened fire, knowing it would only slow the creature down. Salim shoved all his weight onto the door, but just then the vampire pounced. Weapons went scattering.

Jason was pinned down, struggling to hold off the vampire as it inched its weird fangs toward his face. Salim yelled something in Arabic and attacked the creature. It immediately let Jason go to turn its attention on Salim. Freed, Jason grabbed the tent peg and slammed it down as hard as he could into the vampire's spine. It shrieked and writhed, collapsing on the ground. Jason stomped on the peg to make sure it drove in deep. The vampire gave one last thrash before it was still.

Salim shakily got to his feet. He caught Jason's eye and the two men stared at each other. Salim had a strange expression on his face.

“Guess that's it for the tent peg,” Jason commented to break the tension.

“What kind of soldier loses his weapon?” Salim huffed, though the tone was teasing. “Come on, we should keep going. Maybe we'll find something that can be my 'sword'.”

“You never know,” Jason agreed with a smile. He was glad Salim was in a friendly mood again. Hopefully it would stay that way this time.

#jason kolchek x salim othman #salim othman #jason/salim #jason x salim #jason kolchek #house of ashes #au #jalim

[shittyrpmusing]

LYRICS FROM MY PLAYLISTS.

CW: Mentions of suicide, drugs, and other dark topics.

“I’ll bet you’ve never had a Friday night like this.”

“Let’s scream until there’s nothing left.”

“You want a martyr? I’ll be one.”

“Enough’s enough - we’re done.”

“I don’t wanna feel a thing anymore.”

“I’m tired of begging for the things that I want.”

“Imagine living like a king someday.”

“Dying is a gift, so close your eyes and rest in peace.” 

“Why do you make me feel like no one?” 

“You want me to be something I can never ever be.” 

“I’m not saying I’m not playing god.” 

“I still think you’re beautiful.” 

“I will never be taken for granted again.”

“If we die at the same time, does it still scare you?”

“Will I make it ‘til the end? Or will I crawl away and die?” 

“Why’s my mother always right?”

“I’m living a lie, and it’s not the best thing for me.” 

“Confidence is key when violating trust.” 

“I wish I could see this filth through someone else’s eyes.” 

“I follow these pigs around, but I never get used to it.” 

“Nobody can say they know me.” 

“These drugs are fucking with my head.”

“I know my mother wants me dead.” 

“I think my mailman is a fed.”

“I think I used to have a purpose... Then again, that might’ve been a dream.”

“Sometimes I think I’m happy here.” 

“I’m not your friend or anything, damn.” 

“Get my pretty name outta your mouth.” 

“If you go, I wanna go with you.”

“If you die, I wanna die with you.” 

“Your beauty never ever scared me.” 

“I think about just how petty you are, and it blows my fucking mind.” 

“Anything exceptional gets crushed by common people.” 

“You wanna win the war? Know what you’re fighting for.” 

“You need people like me to fail.” 

“I don’t know where I’m going to sleep tonight.” 

“I’m sorry, I can’t see that you truly love me.” 

“Please, don’t take this out on me.”

“You’re the only thing that’s keeping me alive.” 

“I would rather end it all tonight.”

“If I mean anything to you, I’m sorry, but I’ve made up my mind.”

“There is no real me, just this dark entity that can’t be redeemed.”

“Fuckin’ magnets, how do they work?”

“I know it’s hard, but who are you to fall apart on me?”

“What about us? Well, what about me?” 

“Don’t let me fall.”

“You left me here, I’m all alone.” 

“Nothing can stop me now, ‘cause I don’t care anymore.”

#ask memes #sentence starters #rp meme #rp memes #roleplay meme #rp starter #rp sentence prompts #rp prompts

[playball-jeanette]

SCREWBALL DYNAMICS + HEADCANONS (Jeanette x Toby)

SFW EDITION :] <33

Warnings- mentions of Tourette’s, DID, swearing, possessiveness, stalking, arguing, suicide, and alcohol+drugs, also murder duh

FLUFF

•when Jeanette and Toby first met, Jeanette wasn’t too sure about him at first. Like most people she met, she always tried not to get too attached. However, Toby made it very hard. He’d always greet her, make conversation about anything he could, be playful and warm towards her, it was hard to stay away from such a welcoming personality.

•The first mission they went on, they worked extremely well together. Even if it wasn’t the hardest task in the world, they worked like freshly oiled gears in a machine together.

•Toby was always so flustered around Jeanette, but did his best to play it off. Let me tell you, this boy was and is a fuckin SIIIIIIIIMP. He will bend over backwards and break himself into pieces for this girl. He will do anything just to see her smile. *good fucking luck buddy, cus that’s a rare sight to see-*

•Once Jeanette starting getting feelings for Toby, she was very conflicted about it. She didn’t even want to be acquaintances with this dude, let alone fall for him. The night Toby offered her a bouquet of half dead flowers after a mission tied that knot.

•LIKE SRSLY MY MANS WAS SO GROSS AND HE DECIDED TO ASK HER OUT LIKE THAT- AND SHE SAID YES?????

•now onto the fun stuff, we all know who wears the pants in this relationship let’s be real I don’t even have to say.

•Jeanette finds Toby’s verbal tics cute, in the nicest way possible. He’s embarrassed by them, but she does her best to assure him they aren’t.

•Toby gives Jeanette the TIGHTEST hugs, the ones where she’s lifted off the ground with no air in her lungs. He really doesn’t realize how tight he’s holding her until she wheezes.

•Toby carries bandages and tissues on him for her !!

•Jeanette packs them lunch for their missions. It’ll usually be something a parent would pack for their child, a veggie, sandwich, and a snack with a water bottle. Of course, Toby is a big boy, so he gets a sub instead of just a sandwich. If they aren’t going on one together, she’ll put a note in with his meal. “Don’t die, dumbass. -Jean <3”

•While Toby is out, Jeanette cleans up his entire room. It is a fucking PROCESS but she gets it done right before he gets home. He’d usually walk in and find her passed out on his bed, exhausted from cleaning the shithole that is his bedroom.

•If Toby comes back from a mission roughed up, Jeanette urges him to the bedroom to treat his wounds. She knows he can’t feel any of his wounds, so she insists that she patches him up. Having experience in this, she does quite well cleaning him up. Of course, she’ll be murmuring half insults at him while she does it. “Dumbass-“ “how the fuck do you manage to do this???” He’d be laughing the entire time.

•Toby claimed the right side of the bed *when they do sleep together* much to Jeanette’s dismay. “Right is always right, Jenny.” He’d insist with a dumb grin. “Shut the fuck up, Toby-“

•TOBY IS THE LITTLE SPOON 78% OF THE TIME CMON NOW-

•Jeanette will literally just lay there with Toby like a teddy bear, playing with his hair and mumbling sweetness into the air. She listens to his breathing, feeling the way his body slowly stops twitching as he falls asleep in her embrace. The admiration this woman has for Toby is insane but she will never show it around anyone but him.

•the times Toby actually gets to be the big spoon is when Jeanette is too tired or viscerally stressed/upset to be the big spoon. Even so, he takes care of her as best he can. His hands will have a death grip on her, try and pry her away from him and he’ll bite. Literally. Man will fucking bite like a god damn dog.

•Toby LOVES tracing over Jeanette’s freckles, playing connect the dots with each one. She doesn’t mind this, his hands were so gently it usually soothes her nerves. He also traces over her scars, all of them. He just wishes his kisses could make them feel a little less painful.

•just because they’re laying down together doesn’t mean they’re sleeping, both having terrible nightmares most of the time. So, to avoid it, they’ll stay up for as long as possible talking about all sorts of things; their pasts, their fears, mindless thoughts, and laughing about nothing while half asleep.

•Jeanette makes the bed in the morning, along with breakfast. That bitch can fucking COOK LET ME TELL YOU WHAT- *let her cook-*

•Ok ok, so their first kiss- it is AWKWARD. Toby would try to be smooth about it and Jeanette would end up turning her head away. NOT IN A MEAN WAY BUT SHE’D JUST GET TOO OVERWHELMED AND HE’D END UP KISSING HER CHEEK.

•now, their REAL first kiss is very sweet. They’d most likely be out of the mansion alone together, somewhere in the woods. They’d probably find someplace abandoned and hang out there for awhile. Then, Toby would work up the courage to ACTUALLY ASK THIS TIME. Jeanette would go red immediately, watching as he sputters out incoherently that he wants to kiss her before she takes him by the cheeks and promptly shuts him up. The kiss would last for a good few seconds before they pull back. Toby would be stimming so harshly Jeanette thought she broke him. Then, he’d pull her back in for another smooch.

•Jeanette WILL be teasing him about this for the next few weeks.

•ALMOST COMPLETELY FORGOT-

PETNAMES-

For Jeanette: Jenny, Jean, Bean, Pups, shorty, dork

For Toby: Tobes, Bug, babs, hun, loser

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

ANGST

•they get into a LOT of arguments about their lives as proxies. Jeanette doesn’t enjoy being a proxy and literally hates the operator/Slender Man. While Toby on the other hand sees it as his savior of some kind, obeying anything it says. This can be frustrating for both parties for obvious reasons.

•both are unstable, like, extremely. Between Jeanette’s impatience and PlayBall fronting during arguments (which can get physical if this is the case) and Toby having bpd, his own immaturity and anger issues, their fights get intense. One will surely be crying or broken down in their room afterwards.

•When PlayBall does front, hoo boy do things get mean. PlayBall is cold and cruel towards everyone, including Toby. They will pick on everything Toby has to offer; Tics, abuse, his speaking manners, the way he dresses, anything. PlayBall will not hesitate to call Toby by “Ticci” or “Rogers” it the argument gets bad enough, all with a huge smile on their lips knowing damn well this will strike a nerve.

•Toby is very possessive, jealous. In the beginning of their relationship, he began isolating Jeanette from everyone in the mansion. At first, she didn’t mind but it became a bit much when she watched him snap at Brian while they were chatting in the kitchen about a mission. She confronted him about this which almost started an argument, him being very defensive about the topic.

•Toby was a major creeper before they got together, always watching Jeanette from afar even before she became a proxy. Once she started living with them all, she noticed some of her things started disappearing; lighters, hair ties, ect. Mostly small stuff, until one day her flannel went missing. She quickly found the culprit once she spotted a bundle of hair ties on Toby’s wrist and confronted him on it. Creepy.

•Jeanette can be very stand offish, constantly feeling like she’ll be dead soon either by her own hand or something else’s. Obviously, that’s not great when you’re in a relationship. She rarely talks about what’s on her mind, making it frustrating for Toby to talk to her at times. She bottles up a lot of her feelings until they spill over, usually on Toby, who kept prying.

•Because of Jeanette’s mentality on her life, Toby is constantly on high alert for her. He is horrified of the chance she could just kill herself or die at any moment. As sad as it is, he knows it’ll happen one day. He’s just lost too much already, losing Jeanette would most likely send him over the edge. He’s always nearby, constantly checking on her, keeping sharp objects and slender-sickness pills hidden away. He can’t risk it. He just can’t.

•Toby cleans Jeanette’s self harm often. He feels she shouldn’t have to do it herself, it’s the least he can do to help her. However, just seeing how brutal the wounds are make him want to cry at times. Some are so deep they need to be stitched. He learned just for her.

•The first time Jeanette lost herself during a job, she completely broke down. Blood was pouring from her nostrils, she was panting and crying. She was so used to dealing with this by herself, however, she wasn’t expecting Toby to be holding her the entire time. He’d be speaking so softly, offering to help her walk or support her in anyway he could. It was a foreign exchange for Jeanette, but she highly appreciated it. *though she’ll never admit that.*

•Toby plays guitar and sings for her when she’s distressed :(

•Jeanette will hold Toby through his tic attacks, making sure he doesn’t hurt himself *despite not feeling it.* when physically ticcing. She doesn’t care if he hits her on accident, she just wants to make sure he’s ok. Unfortunately for them both, these episodes could last for quite some time.

•When PlayBall fronts, Toby is the only person who knows how to get them to recess. Either talk about Jeanette’s father, or something else personal. Since Jeanette only ever opened up about this to Toby, he’s the only one who can help in this situation.

•neither of them touch alcohol, though Toby occasionally dabbles in marijuana from time to time. He’s aware of the past Jeanette has with drugs, so he makes sure to keep away when intoxicated to prevent any ‘incidents’.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

OK THATS ALL THE HEADCANONS IVE GOT FOR THEM CURRENTLY ILL PROBABLY ADD MORE BUT MY PHONE IS DYING. BYE TY -Cody🔪

#creepypasta #marble hornets #original character #slenderverse #creepypasta fandom #creepypasta fanart #ticci toby #creepypasta art #creepypasta headcanons #ticci toby headcanons #creepypasta fanfic #creepypasta incorrect quotes #toby rogers

[arashincleric]

Have you ever had a relationship with GOD, have you asked HIM things, for help/understanding? What is stopping you from pursuing a life w/ someone who will never leave you & has your best at heart?

Alice in wonderland: 'If you don't know where you want to go, then it doesn't matter which path you take.'

Agreed, we don't know how to live.

We're all unique snowflakes, but I think divorce & drugs & alcohol exists so we can try to calm down from all the anger & rage we feel when we can't get what we want, or the way we want to be treated or remembered.

Essentially if anger is as murder, Hell is basic entry level for everyone—so if GOD sent HIS SON to die on the cross in our place to avoid this Hell & lead us thru life by HIS HOLY SPIRIT; & HE says there is only 1-way forward & JESUS is the way/truth/life, that no one comes to the FATHER except thru JESUS. [John 14:6]

Why in the world would we ever avoid HIS easy yoke? Why wouldn't we ask HIM in to show us the way?

We clearly don't have life/truth/way to GOD, unless we accept JESUS, life/death begins forever after we're ejected from earth.

I wonder if you were to die in your sleep suddenly: Are you ready to be drop-kicked into eternity?

What a fuckin message to get lmao Anyway I think about my mortality a lot bc I'm chronically ill so I think about whether I will die in the night every week or so, I don't really care if there is an afterlife because I will not care because I will be dead. If I die then I die, I'll just live until I don't. I don't believe in a christian god, but I am agnostic bc it would be nice if there was something out there, but I haven't ever seen or heard anything that gives me faith. Church and the people in it give me some comfort but ultimately I like that because it's a familiar and calm place with kind people, and kind people can come from anywhere.

In the future please do not message me like this I don't like it ty <3

#Anonymous #ask #givin me the five Gs rn

[adelaidedrubman]

all evens + johnjess ty xx

hey stella hate you bites you KILLS you. whatever i did it.

2. What would they do if the other woke in a manic state after a nightmare?

answered here!

4. Which one is more protective? Who needs to be ‘protected’?

neither, nice folks need protecting from them.

neither starts particularly protective of each other either, john develops anxieties about fates he does not want jessie to meet (death, angelification) but overall has confidence in her ability to fend for herself, jessie is protective of john in an “only i can be the one to kill you” way that eventually morphs more into outright defending him (not always obviously).

6. Who would beg the other not to leave? Who has to leave to protect the other?

john but he would be so so normal about it, so so subtle, so dignified. jessie would leave to protect him from... i don’t know, interrupting her fishing time. stays away for a full week queen of independence queen of self control.

8. What happens if one of them gets sick?

they die i don’t care. sick jessie pretends she’s fine this is fine, she does not need anything. stop babying her. john initially brushes off illness on reflex as well until the light bulb goes off he can use this to actually freely be babied by her for once. it works. (she respects two things: sick boys and birthday boys, although she still insults the former for being an over dramatic baby.)

10. Describe their first date.

answered HERE and also you already KNOW. shout out daniel.

12. Do they have many heated arguments? How do they smooth things over?

no. chill people. smooth things over by... just moving on to the next argument.

14. How do their personalities compliment each other? How do they clash?

compliment each other in the sense their wit plays well off each other, they have an intuitive understanding of each other’s thought processes, both extremely reactive and volatile in a way that tends to alienate others but somewhat counterintuitively makes the other feel more at ease about how they’re being responded to when they would usually be insecure, fucking annoying, more underlying similarities in attitude towards the world than they’re willing to admit (“yeah, no shit, john, we all hate society. grow up.” and etc.), selectively codependent. so on and so forth. clash primarily in the sense that jessie finds john overly pretentious, condescending, and clingy; john finds jessie unnecessarily combative, spiteful, and stubborn. (no these aren’t actually more shared traits shut up.)

16. Can they stay up all night just talking?

yeah.

18. How likely are they to have fur babies? How many and what kind?

does jessie ultimately not having the heart to get rid of the “creepy fuckin’ taxidermy” and naming each one instead count?

20. Choose one song that perfectly describes their relationship.

in spite of ourselves - john prine ft. iris dement (their karaoke song!)

22. What reminds each of their partner?

full moons; dead bodies; waterfalls. sunsets; whiskey; Blood, Hers; denim.

24. Who's more likely to give the other a massage?

:/

26. What are their vices?

violence anger sex drugs alcohol etc.

28. What are there thoughts on pet names? Do they have any?

it’s all he has he doesn’t know her real name. (once he does usually only tacked on to her name, “jessie, dear” and the like. jessie occasionally throws a “baby” out in heated private moments.)

30. Your OTP gets to pick out each other's outfits; what is each wearing?

jessie picks out this fit for john. no pants.

john picks out something very similar to what jessie would normally wear to dress nicely (mid thigh floral print cotton a-line dress, heeled boots over combat boots) but switch the judghead jacket out for a sensible cardigan or blazer with eden’s gate insignia embroidered.

32. Who's the better story teller?

jessie pov is less painful!

34. Who's more likely to tell a dirty joke or story to make the other blush?

jessie, but less blushing more general annoyance.

36. Who's more likely to fire up the stove at 2am because the other woke up in the middle of the night hungry?

john, house burned down secret wildfire ending revealed.

38. Who is more sexually experimental? Who's more vanilla?

uhhhh leave the experiments to jenna and faith 🤗 but ig shout out to john for being more. accommodating. (actual willing switch, unlike switch in theory jessie who in practice only brat tames.)

40. Who has an insatiable appetite? And what does the other do to help?

idk, jessie forgets to get then binges on huges meals to compensate, which john probably enables.

42. What's their favorite type of weather to enjoy together? (getting snowed in together, watching thunderstorms, etc.)

world on fire.

44. Who would dance in the kitchen making dinner? Would the other join in or watch from the doorway?

i stand by neither of them being good dancers. jessie would if she was drunk enough.

46. Would they get frisky at the movies by themselves?

if only hope county had a movie theater.

48. Who's the better driver?

city driving john, rural driving jessie. jessie also better navigator.

50. who's more likely to do something out of spite?

answered here!

52. Describe their weekend getaway?

laying in the dirt.

54. Who’s more likely to carry the other to bed?

well, john has carried her. point to him.

56. What do they do turn the other on/put them in the mood?

yell fight instigate. or just playfully tease, ig.

58. Who’s more likely to hold a grudge after an argument?

jessie, overall. john also lets things simmer but is more likely to repress, jessie has a harder time repressing resentment.

60. Who pulls the other closer when they’re sleeping?

john. will fully drape jessie over his body so he can be little spoon.

#otp: stop bothering these nice folks

[killemwithkawaii]

L.S.S.: Alright, distraction time.

Mitch(3): I got my bucket and I'm ready ta gooo~

Mitch(3): Sugar Mommy Meadow, comin through once again~

L.S.S.: Yeah, between the two of us not feeling well, we really needed these….

Mitch(3): And at the rate we’re goin, we might need some more… ‘specially once we’re over the hump and back ta humpinnn~ [laughing]

L.S.S.: Ugh… how about we wait to plan for that once neither of us have involuntarily expelled any fluids for at least 24 hours.

Mitch(3): That sounds fair… it’s gonna be a while, ain’t it….

L.S.S.: Yup…. damn, I’m just feeling worse and worse today….

Mitch(3): Yeah, you’re lookin’ kinda… puffy…?

L.S.S.: I’m definitely bloated. And stiff… like, really stiff… that shower didn’t help me relax at all…

Mitch(3): Maybe you weren’t in there long enough? You still… kinda smell…

L.S.S.: Thanks.

Mitch(3): Uh, no, I… sorry, I shouldn’t pick on you when you’re sick… Uh, yeah, stomach and muscle stuff’ll happen when you detox. I’m feeling it, too... Want me to see if these fingers can work some non-sexual magic? I’ll rub your back if you rub mine.

L.S.S.: Worth a shot... Thanks, Mitchie.

L.S.S.: Thanks Meadow, but neither of us have had much of an appetite today… the yogurt might be okay, though.

Mitch(3): I dunno Sal, I think some a this stuff might have sat out for too long… something smells fuckin’ rank. It might be the fish… [sniffing] [gagging]

L.S.S.: Wait, I thought you’d lost your sense of smell?

Mitch(3): Yeah, me, too....

L.S.S.: ...[sniffing] Ooof, yeah, I think this might have turned… better toss it, just to be safe.

Mitch(3): Yeah, I do not want to add food poisoning on top a the rest of this….

L.S.S.: Hurray for following food safety protocols~

Mitch(3): Huh…?

L.S.S.: You know, like, the rules for handling and preparing food at restaurants and stuff…?

Mitch(3): …Sure, yeah, whatever, just throw that shit out before I start dry-heaving again, please…

L.S.S.: Well, you did ask nicely… [chucks the sushi out the front door]

L.S.S.: …god, I did not want that image of Kenneth Phelps back in my brain…

Mitch(3): Wait, wait, you two are talkin about The Big Dog…? [laughing] [laughing] Jesus, he’d tan your fuckin’ hide for sayin shit like that about him…. [laughing] I ain’t about to talk shit about the hand that feeds, Mama. His weird-ass kinks are his business. As long as I get paid, he can hump all the bibles he wants. Hell, I’d help him find the best passages to jerk it to… 

L.S.S.: Wait, I thought Addison was ‘The Big Dog’…?

Mitch(3): Pssh, nah. How could Addi supervise while he’s all cooped up in his apartment? He cooks the Addison Special and supplies, but Phelps is the one that pulls the strings and runs the show.

L.S.S.: That… makes perfect sense….

[sigh] Don’t do drugs, kids. They make you stupid.

Mitch(3): So you finally admit you’re fried, Fisher...?

L.S.S.: Probably a little… might be why that smell is lingering…

Mitch(3): Could be….

Mitch(3): What does she mean?

L.S.S.: There have been a few times where objects have gotten caught up in the glitch and appear at random, like this laptop. I didn’t have it until a few days ago, right?

Mitch(3): Right…

L.S.S.: Yeah, this is the sixth Mitchies. Somehow, it’s followed me through the last couple glitches. Then, a painting and a bunch of knives and forks appeared, and now, the hooks.

Mitch(3): Sooo… what does that mean?

L.S.S.: I don't know, it… it seems like they keep showing up just before-...

…..

Mitch(3): ‘Before’...?

L.S.S.: … Before we die again.

….

Mitch(3): …..

L.S.S.: But, uh, neither of us are dead, sooo it could just be a coincidence! Haha, yeah… [clears his throat] I’m not worried about it…

Mitch(3): Oh yeah, you look so chill…

L.S.S.: … I think I might feel better if we got rid of them…

Mitch(3): Ya’know, me too? We don’t need them ta have fun in the tub, anyway…

L.S.S.: Yeah, no. You got a screwdriver around here?

Mitch(3): I think so… somewhere…

L.S.S.: The search begins…

L.S.S.: Yeah, I was a little afraid I'd fall back into old habits, too... But I know better now. One or two drinks is enough for me. I'm in control, and I'm gonna stay in control, just like I promised.

Mitch(3): That's him, [mocking] Sober Sally...

L.S.S.: Mostly-Sober Sally.

Mitch(3): Same dif....

L.S.S.: I know that the first and second Mitchie both had dreams about their deaths because they told me they did, they just didn't bring it up to me until I got into detail about it... It was an educated guess that this Mitchie had one, too, though.

Mitch(3): That was a guess?

L.S.S.: Yup. I'm starting to see some patterns after the last couple weeks, and that's one of them. Three for Three...

Mitch(3): Is that what your whole deal about not touching the door was about, then?

L.S.S.: Yeah, but, neither of us died the day after you did that, so I could be wrong about that one... the door-to-bed loop is still definitely a thing, though.

Mitch(3): Yeah, that is... really freaky...

Sooo... does that mean we're gonna be okay, then...?

L.S.S.: Hopefully. We just have to wait and see, I guess...

Mitch(3): That's comforting.

L.S.S.: I know, right?

Mitch(3): ....

L.S.S.: .....

Uh... C'mon, let's go see if we can track down that screwdriver...

#the staycation 🏡💙 #l.s.s. answers #dealer!mitch #meadow chan #tw drug use #tw vomit #tw unsanitary #tw violence #lime #grapefruit #sorry steve #tw mental illness #tw death #meet the fishers

[silva-exspiravit]

If you’ve ever seen the movie Only The Brave then you know how they all passed away! And honestly that’s the way I’m willing to die! Doing what I’ve dreamed about for a long time now and that’s fighting Forest fires! If it’s my time and I enjoy engulfed in flames than I’m perfectly okay with that! I don’t have shit to lose. I’m already losing my dad and I’ve already lost the love of my life to a piece of shit guy and to pregnancy so what do I have to lose? Fuckin nothing so I’ll die doing what I love doing! If I’m gonna go out then that’s the way I wanna go out, laying in my fire suit with my face buried in the ground while being overcome by 2200 degree flames! Maybe then she’ll think about why she didn’t come back or why she stayed with him or why she never said goodbye. There will be questions running through her head wishing she could go back. The only downside is she won’t think about any of this until it’s already to late but if that’s what it takes then so be it! She has already let go but eventually she’ll lose the only person who is still alive that would cherish her and never put her through what her current boyfriend puts her through. It’s just sad that it’ll have to take me dying in flames for her to realize any of this. But as of right now i know she looks at her man as a guy that treats her better than I did which is complete bullshit because yeah I was toxic to her and did fucked up things but the shit her current boy not man but boy she’s with has done to her I can’t compare to and would never do have the shit he’s done. No ones perfect in life but there is real hearted people who may fuck up but wouldn’t do it intentionally and always try to fix what they fucked up. I tried for over 5 years to get her back and fix what I did but for some reason she rather stay with the man who hurt her far more than I did and still hasn’t learned his lesson. I learned my lesson and tried to fix my fuck ups but she wouldn’t allow it. Out of two imperfect people she chose the more fucked up one and is having a fuckin kid with him! So the past 6 months I’ve made the decision to stop trying to get her back knowing it won’t happen and I chose to follow my path to death and make a career out of it. She was the only person and living thing that kept me going and breathing because I had to much faith in getting her back but the day I found out she aaa pregnant was the day I tried as hard as I ever tried before to end my life. I’ve tried it plenty of times before but this one time was different! My worst nightmare came alive, the love of my life got pregnant from the worlds biggest piece of shit! I did things I haven’t done in years to try and end it! I stepped my drinking game up and tired drinking a half gallon of vodka and did drugs I haven’t done in a very very long time and all it did was fuck me up and put me in the hospital but never killed me so my next choice was become a wildland firefighter and do what I love doing and hope life either works out and I make something out of this career or I just let the fire consume me and I pass away! I’m still leaning towards the Fire consuming me over making a life out of it but either way hopefully it works out. God won’t let me die by my hands so this is the second best thing to do. I’m not her soul mate and she made that clear to me, she already lost her soul mate in a motorcycle accident and I see how she acts and the things she says about him and it eats at my heart more than her being with a piece of shit. To me it feels like I was just a waste of time to her, just another failed shitty relationship. I thought I was her soul mate but the day she told me I wasn’t her soul mate and she told me who she believes her soulmate is fucking crushed me even more than I already was. She’s literally made me feel like a piece of side trash that she had a relationship with. I was nothing to her and the older I get the more it makes since and why things ended the way they did. I was never her soul mate or the person she actually wanted. I was just another guy who has a relationship with her.