#personal writings

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Deuce Spade having a crush

Gender neutral

- order 38 | Headcanons | Deuce

Note: I wanna squish him LET ME SQUISH HIM!! Cater is next btw

⇥ Ace Trappola • Cater Diamond ⇤

GOD I already know how he would act. Deuce is a mama’s boy so you know that he’s gonna be as respectful as possible.

Opposite of Ace but the problem is is that he’s not getting anywhere. He’s too busy being nervous and being kind to do anything to give you the hint that he likes you.

His friends (Ace and Cater) would come up to you and say “Deuce has a crush on you” then start giggling

Then Deuce runs up to you denying all of what they said. From there, I hope you would take a hint and start initiating conversation.

I feel like you two would somehow get roped into a game of truth or dare. Deuce gets picked on by someone and picks truth because dare is dangerous.

Then the generic question, “Who’s your crush?”

Deuce will be screaming because you are literally right there. He excused himself to the bathroom and never comes back!

He’s the type to hear you sigh or groan and just dash up to you and ask you what’s wrong. If it’s manual labor, he got you!

He can probably carry you if you need that too. However, if it’s something academic. He wishes you good luck. He’s embarrassed that he’s not the smartest and ashamed he can’t help you.

Grab his hand, he will melt. The only thing he’s focusing on is your hand holding yours. Bonus points if you intertwine fingers!

Oh my god they’re holding my hand… My palms are sweaty—

Hug him, even if it’s only short and brief, he’s gonna go light headed. Please catch him because he’s gonna fall over.

You should bully him with Ace. It’s funny to see the big contrast in responses when it comes to you.

“Please don’t tease me…”

And then when Ace says something snarky it’s just “Shut your mouth jerk” in the least polite way possible

He told his mom about you and she just went crazy knowing that her son has a crush! You can only assume that Deuce never even thought of dating since he was too busy being a delinquent.

Now he’s finally doing normal teenage boy things like having a crush! She asks many questions about you and gives him advice. Probably forwarded him some money to buy you a gift (he sent it back)

If he hears anybody bad mouthing you for any reason, hes gonna start shaking holding back from lashing out.

He somehow stays composed enough to not punch them in the mouth and teaches them to stfu

No surprise, the bad mouthers stay clear of you and learned to keep your name out of their mouth.

If you ask for his number, he’s gonna over think it so bad. He says yes but inputs his number wrong. And he wonders why he hasn’t gotten a text.

Eventually Ace created a group chat and it’s all cleared up but I wouldn’t let he go.

Yeah he’s pretty much whipped for you.

#twisted wonderland x reader #twisted wonderland #twst x reader #personal writings #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade #twst

[spinningjupiters]

// Much better //

Much better

You said

My scars

Are much better now

They don't show

The rip anymore

Much is replaced

By tissue intertwined

Like a best kept secret

What a view

You say

Can't even tell

If the struggle

Ever existed

Immaculately you think

All is held

By these glass fingers

What you don't know

Are the silent cries

Hours of self negation

A monologue

That never ends

It isn't easy

Convincing yourself

To survive

When you never belonged here

#poetry #what keeps me going #writerscreed #poem #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #words #personal #spilled words #this #personal writings #personalstories #poet #poetic #prose poem #daily poem #post #female poets #words to live by #workout #wordpress #poeticstories #world #my words #poema #love poem #my poem #love poetry #new poets on tumblr #national poetry month

[in-kind]

draft

#personal writings #c'est moi #poetry

[literatureinfurs]

for books are all i have known, and poetry is all i have. for all of this is on the tip of my tongue and heavy on my mouth. i stay within the golden light, hoping one day i'll be what glimmers. for now a day spent reading in bed. "to never leave bed, to always have books."

literature in furs, jessie (literatureinfurs) - March, 2024.

#literatureinfurs #personal #booklover #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #writer #bookworm #poet #thoughts #excerpts from my journal #word witch #poetic musings #lover of words #reading in bed #writing in bed #journaling #am writing #personal writings #am reading

[gaunt-and-hungry]

The Grace of Wedlock

Heinrich Cornelius Reiss makes a horrible mistake.

Heinrich Cornelius Reiss is a corrupt man that has fallen horribly for a man he should not have. Heinrich is as bad as they come, in fact, worse. Morally corrupt does not even touch the cosmological horrors that he has committed. He is the precursor to nightmares that leak through the fabric of reality in a way that has shaped him into an expert of eldritch anomalies. Attachments? They do not exist. Not in the cosmic expanse of things... Only if someone can keep up. He laughs. Scoffs. Mocks organised religion being a man so far removed from humanity he may as well not even be considered human anymore. So wrought with horrors of eldritch nature and tormented by crimes that weigh like feathers on his blackened hair, he accompanies Captain Erebus Wilbur Flamel on a trailing company to explore the unnatural experiences of the Franklin Expedition. If the expedition is doomed anyway then there is nothing preventing them from picking the corpses of the unusual eldritch nature of things that lay beneath the ice; their aim: to study the horrors that lay in furthest Northern reaches. He finds Flamel's desire to keep as many of the Expedition alive as possible as a futile thing that could compromise their own research. In his hubris, Heinrich finds himself unusually attracted to the least likely of men: Leftenant John Irving. Spoiler Preface: He woos the Leftenant and through incredibly long slow burn opens up his closeted mind and brings an acceptance to John Irving's life that the Leftenant desperately needs. The formidable and indominable Heinrich experiences a crisis. He falls madly in love. `-

And yet Heinrich had not faltered once in his batting of eyelashes and his unusually feminine posture. Once they were off of the theatrics and away from prying eyes it was as if Heinrich simply took a coat off his shoulders and hung it up out of the way. His body posture returned to normal, his tone and gaze returned to that deep and drowning allure that captivated John so very much. It unnerved him a little with how excellent Heinrich was as an actor. And yet, he felt that this part of him he presented was truly himself. That he had shucked himself of all falsehoods and lies and laid himself bare before him, adoring and sweetly, so very much in love with him. With time he had learned how to recognise the subtle gestures that meant Heinrich was lying or painting a fabrication; like he was drawing a curtain around something that was only meant for certain eyes. 

With time out on the ice, John had learned to recognise that unfaltering hand when his, then, fiancée had conducted a mirage to shroud the things that the two of them were doing out there in the frozen North Atlantic ocean. The frozen Arctic was brutal in ways that shook and crippled many of their men. And yet whatever it was that Heinrich bore with him alongside Erebus was something shrouded and secretive until there was no more hiding it and no more need to keep it from the Erebites and Terrors. When they had deemed it safe, they had opened that veil up and allowed them to gaze upon it. 

It was then that Leftenant Irving could truly marvel at the artistry that Heinrich offered in shrouding the truth from others. He may as well have bent reality to suit his needs. He saw how he pulled the curtains to and fro just as easily as slipping into a new set of clothes. But something was different about what had grown between the two of them. There was no shroud. In fact, there was no clothes that Heinrich could wear. It was as if the man felt as if he himself were ill-fitting. He could not offer the same respite and veiling of secrets to Irving that he did to everyone else. Heinrich was, as it were, stripped bare against his own control and volition. There were times that John could see it in his eyes. There was fear there. There was a shame that seemed to itch in Heinrich, like a child that stole a candied apple from a market stall and now lived with the guilt. It came and it went. The explanation came to John as if Erebus could read his mind. He had been watching Heinrich fiddle with an instrument of copper and silver, a structured-like pole that seemed to behave like a lightning rod. Whether it was for the arctic storms that blew over every so often or for some other unknown strange means he did not know.

All the same yet, Erebus had somehow appeared beside him like a shadow or a sliver of darkness. He truly did sometimes live up to that name, disappearing and reappearing places that others did not clearly see him go to and from like a spirit of darkness. “He thinks you are too good for him.” He offered it plainly as if he were commenting on the overcast sky. It was still black as pitch with few stars shuddering between the clouds. The frozen air made them dance in odd patterns that made charting them clearly a challenge at times.

John had looked to Erebus with bewilderment and confusion. “I’m too good for him?” He made a cold-choked breath that should have been a laugh but was more forced than he would have liked. It fell flatly in the air with frozen lips parted and exhaling more frost than he would like. It betrayed his quickened heart.

“We’ve done things, Leftenant, sir,” Erebus never failed to assure he was polite and cordial, respectful. At first Irving had taken it as mockery. No such thing lingered in Erebus’ mouth ever when he addressed people of rank. There was a cold honesty here that chilled Irving more than the fifty below. “He and I often fail to see ourselves as good people,” he continued as if it were a casual conversation, “I’m not a good man. I know this. Really, neither is Heinrich. Morality is sometimes grey. Sometimes," he shifted in the cold, stomping his feet. His eyes struck something sharp inside of Irving that had him quivering. There was a pause and a deep breath as he exhaled, "In order to do good you must do bad. This world is not painted in black and whites but a spectrum of colours that might startle you when you see that you’ve drenched yourself in reds.” He sighed something fierce then, his eyes looking down as if in shameful thought, “He thinks you are too good for him. He thinks he does not deserve you. He does not feel he deserves anything as good as you and that he does poorly by you as if sullying. He would give up so much,” Erebus was beaming at him at those last words. Something sinister almost was at play, something that Erebus knew that Irving did not.

It was just a month ago that Erebus had told Irving about the unusually intimate and close bond he shared with Heinrich - one that the two of them now shared rather deeply. It, however, seemed that it did not phase either man. There was no jealousy or concern. In its wake a burning fire was left that ushered the two of them together closer than kindling. Erebus nodded firmly, a smile on his lips as he watched Irvings understanding, “So much,” he spoke again but so quietly. “So so very much. Why shouldn’t he? It’d be good for him, I think,” his voice carried as if he were speaking to himself then, Heinrich measuring something on the rod stuck into the ice. “He wants this. He fears he is unworthy of you. It’s a self measurement." He continued almost whimsically, "When nothing in the world can keep you in check you learn to keep yourself in check less you become consumed by your own ego. You both deserve this happiness, I think.” Erebus patted a hand on Irving’s shoulder and he realised then that his knees were weak, his body buckling. Erebus was a good head shorter than him and yet he almost crumbled to the ice when he did so.

He left him like that, standing and awkward as he watched Heinrich curse and fuss with collapsing metal rods, “Your watch is up, by the way,” he had walked off but turned, taking his steps backwards with confidence, “Leftenant Hodgson is on his way to replace you. Goodnight, Leftenant Irving,” he waved. He could only offer a limply raised wrist that did not make it all the way to a salute. His knees felt the same at this time.

He felt weak in the knees and far too warm in this chapel, his body burning with a heat and not the cold of the Arctic as before; a heat that he prayed did not reach his face and flush his cheeks too deeply. Especially not when Heinriette walked down that aisle all veiled and stunning. Irving had to remind himself of his lines. He had to remind himself when to kneel. He had to remind himself what to say and when to stand. He had to remind himself to breathe for the love of God. `

#the terror #original characters #personal writings #fanfic #john irving #my writing #writing blog #yes occult magic is at play #Erebus and Heinrich are the 1800s version of Lovecraftian Occultists that study unusual happenings across the globe #I will not be taking any questions

[understandablyirrelevant]

#personal writings

[goodwilltemptation]

The Dog Who Had Three Paws

A person asked the dog, "why do you only have three paws instead of four?" The dog answered "because of the hunter who shot off my fourth paw."

-Story told by my five year old son

#2023 in review #diary post #personal post #personal writings

[vjstudios]

Unrecognizable...

{To my Sister, Who Is One Of The Most Important People To Me. She Deserves The World, And I Hope This Will Do.} 

~VJ Studios

~

The keyhole looked so far from opening as I sat alone in this home.

Love is scarce, despite it always being there.

Sometimes, rather than loving, I’d rather bury my bones.

Sometimes I don’t want to be here.

Faith is what I look for.

How very sad.

Yellow is too bright for me to wear.

Black is far too dark and just as bad.

But both can compromise, they make me feel the forever.

So why do people say “Quit being so sad.”

I search for a key to freedom.

Desperate for the craving attention that I’ll never reach out.

I cannot anymore, I cannot fathom.

And I don’t know if that’s well put.

And sometimes, when I have a mirror to even look at.

I’m unrecognizable.

The silence is far too loud to listen to and I feel like some type of rat.

Sneaking my way through the endless maze of memories and wishing to collect.

I swear I will find you this time.

#Poems By VJ Studios #Personal Writings

[eaux-fortes]

Elle n’avait jamais trop su, Agni, d’où lui venaient ses manoeuvres et fioritures. Elle a le nase baissé bien bas lorsque ça la frappe ; ses deux saphirs fixés sur le faux cuir des derbies qu’elle inspecte. Ça grince quand elle remue — un peu comme les articulations usées qui décollent sous la carne mordue de points de suture, et ça la fait sourire, là tout de suite, de se comparer à une vieille godasse bon marché qui aurait fait sauter les coutures. Elle entend l’Esprit psalmodier sur l’autre plan ; qu’on fabrique plus que de la grosse merde pas résistante, de nos jours. Premier pouffement. L’espace d’une demie seconde ; d’une moue avortée. Car l’ancre de la Souvenance déjà dégringole, transperce le coeur pour dégueuler sa pesanteur jusqu’aux tripes gorgées de vitriol. Alors en distraction c’est la nonchalance qu’elle revêt ; la gomme pourrie des semelles qui accouche sa battue sur le terrain hostile, fait claquer comme de bonnes grosses caisses et percussions les lattes vernies de la salle qui la parque et l’emmerde. C’est pas qu’elle anticipe ou qu’elle est nerveuse, Agni, c’est pas qu’elle rase les murs comme une bête acculée se préparerait à recevoir sa dose d’anesthésiant, non ; c’est qu’elle se dit que c’est vraiment la chienlit toutes ces illusions de fusion — et qu’elle a pas le temps, et qu’elle aimerait être au moins suffisamment con pour ne pas avoir à se le remémorer chaque jour que Dieu fait. Suffisamment légère pour se satisfaire des surfaces adverses, toujours disposées à se repaître de ses symboles et sacrements. Toujours disposées à redistribuer ses fragments. Mais elle est pas légère, Agni. Elle est vraiment pas légère, Agni. Un second pouffement, qui revêt plus des airs de râle cette fois, s’échappe des lippes arides. C’est un brasier de haine qui l’électrise. Soudain. Immense. Qui crépite dans l’âtre cardiaque, remonte dans la trachée du dragon, jusqu’aux deux fentes reptiliennes qui inspectent et reportent l’attention sur les volutes, là, du diffuseur d’huiles essentielles qui se dispersent et font gonfler les sinus anesthésiés. À l’interne, ça rugit. Elle voudrait tout cramer. Ça lui retourne la tête, ces conneries. De la collection de plantes grasses sur étagères, à l’enceinte dernier cri qui régurgite ses clapotis d’ambiance ‘zen’ dans les tympans et tape salement sur les nerfs de la chimère ; ploc, ploc, ploc. Y’a même un vieux vase d’apothicaire posé dans le coin, qui la nargue ; des boutons de tulipes fraîchement glanés, largués dedans, pour fleurir et s’épanouir sur la mini table d’appoint. C’est tendre. Stérile. C’est délicat. Éphémère. C’est esthétique. Une vraie couv’ de magazine déco.

Et ; wow. Ça lui donne envie de gerber.

Elle aussi est soigneusement fleurie, pourtant. Vêtue du costume et des petites parures d’argent et de cristaux que la soeur lui a fait livrer tout récemment. La crinière domptée et les griffes soigneusement peintes et limées. Immaculée. Docile, stoïque, qui présente bien ; qui ne mord pas. Encore que. L’animal(e) tangue quand du couloir le timbre familier la somme, feule un peu lors même qu’elle peine à se remettre en mouvement et s’équilibrer sur ses quilles valseuses. Y’a quelque chose dans sa constitution —non, autre chose qu’une Conscience critique pour suer sa suffisance feinte et la rendre détestable— un détail hommasse, paternel, qu’on ne soupçonne pas lorsqu’on la mire, comme ça, mais qui pourtant est geôle. C’est comme un abandon. C’est comme ne plus être là, totalement. C’est cette pierre, brute, larguée au fond de l’océan qui ronge et érode. C’est ce qu’on a jeté, oui, tout au fond d’elle, de plus précieux, et qu’on ne recouvrera plus. C’est un je-ne-sais-quoi pour s’effriter dans ses fonds, pour compliquer l’anatomie noueuse et atrophiée ; d’ailleurs parfois ça la frappe, et elle prend conscience de la carcasse ancestrale qu’elle peine à traîner, du boulet à sa cheville, des épaules et du menton qu’elle sait pas tout à fait redresser dans sa dimension, mais qui sont toujours bien là, pourtant, et du poids de cette corporalité qui la retient. Emprise. Abjuration. Quand la matrice spoliée enclenche ses mouvements y’a le temps qui s’incarne, ça l’accroche et lui rappelle qu’elle (s)existe.

Enfin, qu’à moitié.

C’est propre et ça sent bon, dans le cabinet. C’est quiet, tranquille, pas comme une eau qui dort ; plutôt comme la Mort qu���aurait déjà frappé la digue et nous aurait déjà dévasté de ses écume et marée. Nouveau regard sur ses petits pieds chaussés. C’est con. Elle y pense alors qu’elle s’avance sur l’échiquier des conventions ; qu’elle n’a jamais eu de parquet chez elle, Agni. Juste un vieux lino d’imitation qui se décollait aux encoignures et lui permettait de dissimuler ses trésors d’enfant, une vieille simulation que d’anciennes cendres brûlantes ont noircies, trouées même par endroits. Il était crade, ce lino, et il sentait pas spécialement bon, non plus. Il a fondu plus d’une fois. Trahi plus d’une fois. Reflété plus d’une fois ; les routines chaotiques imposées à la Fuyante, les manoeuvres et fioritures, l’humiliation pour fissurer les apparats vainement présentés en leurre — des trous dans le plâtre qu’on rebouche, des coulures contre les murs qu’on lessive, quelques incendies de chambrées, quelques puteries enfouies sous les dalles rongées, et un peu de carne et d’affects calcinés. Beaucoup, en finalité, de suie et de crasse. Beaucoup, beaucoup trop de crasse à dissimuler.

#personal writings #may 2021

[forbiddennhoney]

autism + cptsd from being abused in many ways + growing up religious = complicated relationship to sex where in theory it sounds amazing and fun but when u talk about it too much or think too much or even sometimes engage in sexy actions ur brain shuts off a switch and makes u repulsed immediately and u never know when it will happen

still can get fucked by my butch no matter what so at least my brain recognizes they're safe LMAO

#personal writings #pls dont mind me (:

[yulin-pop]

⤷ ✧ Lips sealed

- order 22 | Headcanons | VDC Group (Ace, Deuce, Kalim, Jamil, Epel, Rook, Vil) + Neige

P.2 — Keeping quiet

Gender neutral

Note: Personal headcanon stuff! I have a few requests and it’s a bit pressuring but please keep requesting, it’ll just take some time for me to write out.

Also I would like to note that the reasons for MC being silent is up to you and they are fine with friends pestering them about it.

Ace Trappola

He really doesn’t understand how you’re able to stay silent. Doesn’t it piss you off when someone yells at you? He would definitely say something back and yet all you do is sit there and glare or just ignore them.

Most of what is said to you goes in one ear and out the other, or at least it seems that way.

“Hey aren’t you mad at me for what I said when we first met?”

You hummed for a second then nodded your head.

“Really? If I was in your position, I would’ve picked a fight and said something. Like what Grim did.”

You shrugged.

He will undoubtedly be protective of you. Grabbing you from any that gets close with intention to hurt you. He hates it when other people chastise you when you refuse to speak. Some people get overly upset about it. What right do they have?

You’re always there to support him, despite his constant teasing. There has been a time where he genuinely asked why you don’t speak. You wrote down a little note saying.

Idk I try sometimes but it’s like something is stopping me. But it doesn’t matter how much shit I get from people about it

You still had the same humor as him in you, it’s just not verbally expressed. Your laughs are short and brief and his eyes always dart over to you when a little chuckle slips by.

“Oh? Oh? Did you just laugh? Do it again!”

He’s somewhat come to understand what your body language means. Fiddling with your fingers, bored or nervous. Playing with your hair, disinterested or excited. He’s proud of himself for remembering! Now please thank him by patting his head.

Deuce Spade

He thought you were just shy, it made sense knowing that you came from another world. He tried to be gentle with you and explained a lot of things for you. You seem really… annoyed by him sometimes. You walked away from him many times and stared daggers at him when he would explain things.

He eventually made you realize you don’t talk no matter how comfortable you are with someone. So, him trying to be considerate towards you just translates to being irritating.

He’s oddly scared of you. He doesn't know exactly what to do when with you sometimes. This guy is awkward so maybe it’s better if you text him instead of gesturing. He doesn’t get your gestures at all. He tries to understand but sometimes he doesn’t know what you mean when you wave your arms at something. Do you want it?

“Deuce! Are you gonna pick it up?” Grim yipped at him.

“O-Oh that’s what they meant?”

“What else would it be?” Ace snarled.

Ace and Grim have to tell him what you mean most of the time.

He noticed that you’re easily angered, or frustrated. Little things put you in a bad mood and it’s notable. You tend to stay away from people more and he notices you rolling your eyes and frowning.

He’s also very defensive over you. People tend to mock you over something that isn’t any of their business. There are worse things going on with people at this school and people choose to pick on the one that isn’t even hurting anyone? He’s throwing punches, well he would if you didn’t stare disapprovingly at you.

One little stare and he’ll stop whatever he’s doing and start thinking if he did anything wrong.

Kalim Al Asim

There’s no need to be so guarded around him. He understands people get so nervous they can’t speak so he proves he can be trusted. You sure do seem intimidated by his bright, sunny demeanor.

He doesn’t realize until someone tells him the truth.

“Wait, you’re saying they just don’t talk?” He pointed at you while you glanced at him from afar.

“Yes, Kalim, they never speak to anyone.” Jamil firmly said.

He keeps asking you questions and is really talkative to you. You seem less cautious around him at the very least. He often overloads you with words. He talks really fast and you can’t process a thing he’s saying!

Jamil has to draw him back when he starts up a never ending conversation. A very one sided one at that.

He really doesn’t understand how you don’t talk. Words pretty much just jump out of his mouth sometimes.

Jamil Viper

He noticed your silent demeanor from the very beginning. He doesn’t mind, he gets a break from the chatterbox that he’s around 24/7.

You were sassy though. You weren’t soft in the slightest. Seen when you forcefully grabbed Floyd by the hair and snatched Grim’s magic brooch. He could tell you were more easy ticked off than the normal person.

The people you associate yourself with were a far cry from what type of person you were. Then again, it may be because they’re completely different is why you stick with them.

“I came here on behalf of Kalim. You’re invited to join us for dinner tonight.” He had convinced Kalim that he could handle inviting people for the sake of you.

“Yippee!!” Grim cheered. You judged him and made a heart gesture in your hand and Grim nodded.

“Ace and Deuce are gonna be there too?” He asked.

“It depends on their answer.”

Vil Schoenheit

When he asks questions, he expects an answer. Which is why he was so taken aback when you stared blankly at him.

“V-Vil… They don’t really speak.”

“What do you mean?”

“MC doesn’t talk to anyone.”

Well as long as he knows you’re listening to him then he’s fine with it.

He saw how you went along with however Ace, Deuce, and Grim did. Yet you didn’t at the same time. You were willing to sell them out sometimes, but sometimes you didn’t.

You’re a complicated individual to him. You must have a knack for befriending all the rowdy ones because you became close with Epel and added him to your friend group.

But you still possessed beauty he can admire. You almost gave off the same aura as Epel but different, more calm and overtaking. Your very presence could change the room which is something he doesn’t see often.

Rook Hunt

Oh? You’ve just become the apple of his eye. Rivaling Vil and Neige! (Still not beating either of them but you’re 3rd place) your allure is one he’s never felt before. You’re pulling him in without any words, just the way your body moves and your quick glances in his direction.

He memorizes your body language and can read how you’re feeling. Though the amount of time it took was scarily short.

You go out of your way to avoid interacting or even being in a distance from him. But you’re stuck with him for a while with VDC and such. Every morning of the training camp, he woke you up. It was a terrifying sight for sure.

“Bonjour! I’d be best if you started your day about now.”

“A-ah?!”

He would repeat it every morning, while sitting at your bedside. You tried to lock your door but he got in regardless.

A bit of a stalker..

Epel Felmier

He was actually rather interested in you. Not for being silent 24/7 but because of your attitude. He always thought attitude could be expressed only through words but you prove otherwise. You roll your eyes, scoff, cross your arms, walk away, and glare to get your opinion across.

You two are on the same wave length all the time. Thinking the same thing at nearly every moment.

“MC, wanna take a detour?” You didn’t even reply as you stepped to the right to signal your response.

Both of you two are little jerks and can get away with it. Not only that, you genuinely do enjoy his company and the same vice versa.

Neige LeBlanche

First impressions were a bit rough. It was a rare time for you to be alone but the rest of the group were preparing for the performance so there wasn’t much you could do.

But unexpectedly, you ran into a face you’ve seen on ads, commercials, and billboards.

“Ah! You must be the prefect. I’ve heard a bunch about you! Oh wait, apologies. My name is Neige Leblanche!” He stuck out his hand after his introduction. You shook his hand stiffly and tried to pull away but you found his hand didn’t budge.

Red flags were everywhere and you just had to leave before anything happened. He pulled your forward and smiled, blinding you with his princely charms.

“Vil is doing okay? We hardly talk and I really want to know!” You squinted as you tried to shake off the hand subtly.

You looked away and searched the room for assistance. But there was absolutely no one. Your hands were shaking and you took a deep breath.

Dammit Grim! Where is he when you actually need him?

“Eh… Are you ok? What’s your name? Are you sick?” An idea popped into your head as you nodded with a strained look. You pointed at your throat.

“Oh dear! You lost your voice? That’s terrible. What happened exactly? Oh, well maybe you can’t answer me.” You shot a fake smile and nodded.

#ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader #kalim al asim x reader #jamil viper x reader #vil schoenheit x reader #rook hunt x reader #epel felmier x reader #neige leblanche x reader #twisted wonderland x reader #ace trappola #deuce spade #kalim al asim #jamil viper #vil schoenheit #rook hunt #epel felmier #neige leblanche #personal writings

[in-kind]

//DRAFT 2

#personal writings #me #words

[literatureinfurs]

You shouldn’t hate yourself. You are human. This is your family and it is so hard to walk away from family, especially when they are trauma bonded to you (and vise versa) and that unhealthy cycle and unhealthy relationship was a reality for you for so long and it was all you knew; it is familiar and familial. It is incredibly difficult and that self hatred is something of survivor’s guilt. It is okay to be happy and protect your peace, and it is okay to grieve the suffering and grieve the pain. However, it is never okay to let it manifest in self hatred because you will create a bonded cycle of that, like a space-filler for where that unhealthy/abusive/toxic relationship once was (may even still linger). The old Cherokee Proverb The Tale of Two Wolves is truly one I go back nearly to every day, especially in times when I am struggling (rather with self v self, or self v destiny, or self v family). To drastically summarize the tale, that I learned when I was rather young, and the thought I come back to: There are two wolves within you and the wolf you feed is the one that wins. This can be broken down for the sake of any momentary need or in relation to the dynamic of unhealthy cycles and dichotomies that exist within the reality of past and present (future, if we want to get extensive; albeit mindfulness should start and end at the present; helps the ideology of boundaries as well) — trauma and toxic/abuse relations. So, it is okay to grieve and waver through the process of survivor’s guilt (of a sorts: metaphorically and literally) and remorse and to be happy and protect your peace. Although, do not let it cultivate into self hatred, or self destructive behaviors or thoughts (or feelings). I am here to remind you this. For a place to rest your head. To make sure you don’t fall back or fall down for too long.

— messily written myself, @literatureinfurs // excerpt from today, August 29th 2023.

#unedited #personal #spilled thoughts #spilled ink #thoughts #excerpts from my journal #self written #personal writings #personal thoughts #horrors and growing pains #girlhood to womanhood #toxicity #and healing #protect your peace #it is okay to grieve #excerpt out of context #literatureinfurs

[pierog]

i'm so glad goncharov happened when it did, right before prolific public use of AI. that was pure honest gaslighting straight from the heart. real human whimsicality and trickery thru blood sweat and tears. we were a family. and we all gonched, together. you cant replicate that with any machine.

#personal #goncharov #woke up at 3am to write this now im gping back to sleep goodnight.

[ukrainian-groove-metal]

I love the "came back wrong" trope but from the opposite side.

Imagine you are dead. And then you are RIPPED from the embrace of decay into the world of the living again. Your memories are hazy and you don't recognize any of these people, but they act like they're close to you? Like they love you? So you try to get your memories back, to act like you belong here, but everybody tries to forget you died. And you can't. It is omnipresent. And just trying to grapple with that fact pushes the people who "love" you away, and they're incapable of understanding, and they're so confused, what's wrong N̶̄̀O̶͛͗T̷̉́ ̷͋͝Y̴̎̌Ȍ̴̈U̸̓R NÄM̴̃͑E̵̾̇? And you just need them to understand, you aren't that person! You aren't! You don't know who that person is! You don't know why any of this is happening, but they're unwilling to bend, they keep insisting you are that person, your memories will come back, everything will be normal again, and you want to scream and cry and claw yourself open to show them you're different. Your existence as a being wholly separate from whoever you "used to be" is a sin unto itself. All you can do is scrabble for life and to them, you're killing whoever they loved to do it.

just. lots of fun in that concept, you know?

#writing #media #tropes #characterization #character dynamics #came back wrong #kiriona gaia #nona #alecto #tlt #the locked tomb #personal growth #trans #transgender #like the whole trope is very transgender #vulture chatter

[w1770w]

GUMROAD IS BANNING NSFW CONTENT IN THE NEXT 24 HOURS

I haven't seen anyone talk about this yet, so I might as well.

They've updated their content policy to comply with payment processor Stripe and Paypal's censorhip. They gave 24 hours. On March 16th 2024, Gumroad TOS will no longer allows sales of any written or drawn nsfw content.

This is going to hurt for so many creators. Giving that little time leaves people's source of income wildly unstable, especially with such a huge overhaul of what content is allowed.

I hate this. I hate what censorship is turning the internet into. I hate that nsfw content creators keeo getting pushed to the fringes, that they need to digitally migrate so often, because nowhere can be trusted to allow their art for long.

I don't know what to do next, there isn't some sort of "here's what you can do to help!" People just deserve to know.

#gumroad #comics #webcomics #writing #current events #link #text #my words #personal #words #tech