#tw suicide reference
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so you know. so. so you know. you. you know the song. the song. the song against. against the. the song against the kitchen. against the kitchen floor. you know the song against the kitchen floor by. by will wood? the song against the kitchen floor by will wood? well whats sooo hilarious is that i was lying against the kitchen floor. yeah. against the kitchen floor. from blood loss. thats right. i was lying against the kitchen floor (from blood loss). haha funny will wood reference !!
#i have no words for this#my friends (usually non will wood fans) always get super concerned when i bring this up#i wonder why /sarc#will wood#will wood and the tapeworms#wwatt#wee woo#wwattw#against the kitchen floor#in case i make it#sorrens rambles#my thoughts#william woodiam#tw suicide reference#cw suicide reference
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Still thinking about wh for obvious reasons but
I think the end is really interesting—the choices the team all make to deal with their grief & shock.
Taub reaches out to his wife.
Foreman connects with Chase and Cameron.
Thirteen finally runs the test for whether she has Huntington’s.
And Kutner, Kutner just watches tv. Alone. He doesn’t face it.
And I don’t even think the writers had planned his arc yet but it just hits me so hard. He doesn’t reach out to anyone. He doesn’t do anything for his mental health. He just goes home to watch tv.
Ouch.
#house md#gregory house#lawrence kutner#dr kutner#wh#house md meta#cw suicide reference#tw suicide reference
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Andreil Time Travel AU
happy nye I just had the most devastating andreil AU idea while playing Life is Strange-
(cw: canon-typical references to violence, (temporary) suicide mention, this started as a bullet point list that quickly spiraled out of control into 4000k, oops)
***
So Nathaniel grows up a Raven, right? The Perfect Court's #3 striker, the Butcher's son, set to inherit a legacy.
He's also born with the ability to travel backwards for very brief periods in time.
It starts when he joins the Ravens. The first time Nathaniel travels back (ten seconds, during practice) it terrifies him so badly he runs into the goal post and knocks himself out.
He thinks he's hallucinating for a while, cracked under the stress. He never tells anyone. Even once he comes to terms with the fact that it's real, he refuses to try and learn to control it for years. It happens sporadically, out of control, at the worst times times of high emotion.
When he wins his first game as an official Raven. When Riko loses his temper. When he screws up and ends up under his father's knife.
(That night is what finally gets him to face this "ability" he's been ignoring and avoiding. He can't travel far, 10-15 seconds at most, and he has to concentrate or he'll get stuck in a loop. He's gotten stuck in some... pretty bad loops.)
He locks them away somewhere as cold and dark as his father's basement.
But ‘rewinding,’ as he calls it in his head, isn't all bad. He's hesitant to use it, scared that someone will find out, scared he's actually, truly just insane – but not too scared to squeeze in extra practice time when he can, to replay the exact twist of Kevin's wrist that spirals the ball into the corner of the goal perfectly, or, once, to replay the rare sound of Jean's laugh – loud, a bit shocked, unrestrained.
Nathaniel spends weeks trying to remember what he said and how to replicate it.
From what he can tell, the only downsides are increased exhaustion, headaches, and the occasional nosebleed if he pushes too hard. Nothing that would draw attention in the Nest. He thinks about it less and less.
Honestly, by the time Nathaniel is approaching his junior year, it's become a natural extension of him, like his Exy racquet. He's close to getting everything he's ever wanted: freedom, autonomy, a contract to play on a pro team when he graduates. Kevin and Jean are going to graduate, and in a year he's going to follow one or both of them across the country, get as far away from this fucking place as he can, and play Exy until it runs him into the ground. He's happy.
Of course that's when tragedy strikes.
Jean doesn't come back to their shared room the night of graduation. In fact, when the Raven’s private medical team arrives on the scene, they confirm Nathaniel’s greatest fear – Jean isn’t coming back at all.
Shattered over the loss of his closest friend and partner, delirious with grief, Nathaniel impulsively throws himself as far backward in time as he can reach. He only means to rewind a few hours, to find Jean and stop him from doing the unthinkable – he doesn't know how but he'll grab him and hold him all night if he has to, he can't lose him, he can't believe he missed this, he thought they were going to build a life together outside of this hellhole and how dare Jean leave him here alone –
Instead, Nathaniel wakes up somewhere... new.
For one thing, he's traveled further than three hours. It was past midnight in the Nest, but the sun is just barely cresting the horizon now. He knows because he can see it through the window. The fifth story window.
And that's the other thing that becomes clear as Nathaniel scans his new surroundings. If he's traveled to the past, it isn't his past. He's never seen this building before in his life.
Overall, he spends a bewildering thirty minutes in this strange orange-accented building, heart racing, unable to channel the adrenaline of trying to save Jean into the random place and time he's wandered into.
The first person he runs into is a tall man with a buzzed head who claps him on the shoulder and calls him 'Neil.' He looks betrayed when Nathaniel introduces the overly-familiar guy's gut to his elbow. He’s wearing an obnoxious orange hoodie. Boyd, Palmetto State Foxes. Nathaniel sneers.
There’s no time for this. He’s never traveled to a different location before, only different times. He doesn’t even know where Palmetto is, only has the vaguest idea of Exy’s greatest NCAA embarrassment. The longer he spends here, the less chance he has of saving Jean. Jean is not at Palmetto.
Somehow though, inexplicably, Kevin is. And here’s where Nathaniel realizes something is really wrong, because Kevin is wearing orange and white and lunging to fist his hands in Nathaniel’s hood and shake him and he’s speaking–
“What the fuck are you wearing–”
But all Nathaniel can focus on is the violent white scarring twisting up Kevin’s left hand.
Wrong, wrong, wrong. Kevin is not a Fox, Kevin is not broken. Jean is broken. Jean is missing, and he doesn’t know these people, and he needs to find Jean before it’s too late.
He must say some of this out loud because Kevin shakes him hard and asks harshly, fear edging his words, “Too late for what, Neil? What the fuck have you done now?”
Boyd leans around the corner of the hallway with a defensive arm curled around his stomach to ask, “He’s looking for Jean?”
At the same time Nathaniel snarls, “Don’t fucking call me that.”
Kevin’s eyes dart to the Fox in the hallway and back to Nathaniel before narrowing. Nathaniel roughly tries to shrug his fingers off, but Kevin digs in, leaning closer. Then he does something insane.
He sniffs Nathaniel’s face. Nathaniel twists away, and the hand Kevin raised to – slap him? Grab him again? Just barely brushes his forehead. Kevin exhales sharply through his nose.
“Are you drunk? Sick? What’s wrong with you?”
Another door pops open about ten feet down the hallway. “Neil’s sick?”
As everyone’s heads turn, Nathaniel lunges in the direction of the nearest stairwell. Except, Kevin is a bastard and has shifted himself directly in Nathaniel’s way, like he was expecting this. He throws an arm out to further block Nathaniel’s escape.
Fine, if he wants it that way.
Nathaniel pulls out his knife. Chaos erupts.
Boyd shouts in surprise and starts calling for someone to get ‘Andrew.’
The messy-haired boy hanging out of his dorm room throws his hands up, hooking a foot around his door and pulling it shut with a firm “Nope, that’s none of my business.”
Kevin is shaking with anger, and he points at Nathaniel’s chest. “Is this some sort of fucked up prank?”
Nathaniel doesn’t understand the question, so he gestures with his knife. “Move. I won’t ask again.”
“After everything they did to you, what are – I don’t…” Maybe anger wasn’t the right emotion. Kevin looks more likely to throw up than throw a punch.
Coward.
Nathaniel is ready to open the door and shove him down the stairs when the door at the far end of the hall slams open, bouncing off the wall with a bang. It sounds like a gunshot. Yet another Fox has arrived. Kevin breaks off his unintelligible muttering (something that sounded like “what’s going on”) mid-sentence as Neil straightens to assess the new threat.
“Thank god,” Boyd breathes at the sight of the short blonde standing, for all the drama of his entrance, nonchalantly in the doorway. Inexplicably, Nathaniel’s stomach aches.
Stocky, broad shoulders, black jeans and tee, and a pair of black armbands. One of the Minyard twins, he recalls. The backliner is nothing special, but the goalie, what was his name –
“Andrew,” Kevin snaps, a greeting and a command (though it isn’t clear what he’s asking for).
Andrew Minyard, sophomore, save percentage of 0.892 in spite of (and no thanks to) his team, 5 shutouts last season, with some of the quickest reflexes Nathaniel has seen on a college team outside of the Ravens–
The stats looping through Nathaniel’s mind on instinct are abruptly cut off when Kevin shoves– actually shoves Nathaniel from behind, right between the shoulder blades, propelling him further away from the safety of the stairwell.
Nathaniel goes to actually stab him this time, but Kevin ducks in a practiced maneuver and slides out of range. He levels a pointed look at Andrew and flicks a hand at a furious Nathaniel. “Take care of that.”
Nathaniel throws his knife and dives for the now unguarded stairwell door.
Kevin screeches, his striker reflexes barely saving him from getting skewered in the neck. The handle shudders and jams under Nathaniel’s grip. Locked. He kicks it for good measure, stubbing his toes with a curse, and then turns back to face the consequences of his actions.
Kevin clutches his (unharmed) neck with a wounded expression, which is objectively hilarious, but, con, Nathaniel is now disarmed. He expects immediate retaliation from one of the Foxes, but Boyd has discretely slipped away somewhere, while Minyard is still planted in the doorway, eyes pinned to Nathaniel's chest with an unreadable expression.
“Do I have something on my shirt or what?” Nathaniel asks heatedly. They both ignore him.
“So you didn't have anything to do with this then,” Kevin interjects, gesturing up and down Nathaniel's body.
Minyard drags his eyes away with visible effort and cocks his head.
“He came back from his run dressed like this,” Kevin answers the nonverbal question, “freaking out over Jean and ranting about how it's ‘too late,’ which is fucking ominous, and then he pulled a knife on me –”
Apparently having heard enough, Minyard shoves roughly past Kevin and moves toward a wary Nathaniel. As he passes Nathaniel’s knife where it’s stuck in the wall, he retrieves it.
He moves slowly, and Nathaniel tracks every smooth, deliberate movement. Nathaniel doesn’t take his eyes off the knife, so he’s taken by surprise when Minyard reaches for him with his other hand.
Nathaniel bares his teeth. “If you touch me, I will skewer you.” Minyard’s eyes widen slightly and he freezes with his fingers inches from Nathaniel’s neck.
It’s a bold claim for someone who is apparently (and actually) unarmed – Minyard’s eyes trail down Nathaniel’s body for a second time, probably trying to unearth any hidden weapons – but he drops his hand and, maintaining eye contact (a threat?), tucks the retrieved knife into his left armband.
“Neil. Do you know where you are.” His voice is irritatingly familiar – low, and a bit gravelly. Nathaniel realizes with a start that this is the first time he’s heard the goalie speak.
“Surrounded by idiots?” Nathaniel spits. (He has no idea where he is.)
Minyard hums and nods at the small Raven insignia on Nathaniel’s chest. “What is it they say about birds of a feather?”
“I’m not here to play word games.” Nathaniel crosses his arms.
“No, apparently you’re here for Jean.” Minyard speaks slowly, like he’s speaking to a child or a wild animal. “Moreau is with Abby. You know this.”
Nathaniel did not know this. “He’s… Abby?”
“Renee got him out of that hellhole. He’s… safe.” Safe. Nathaniel slumps back against the locked door at his back. If this man is telling the truth, then he did it. Jean is alive. He isn’t sure how or when, but the relief is enough to make his legs weak.
Renee… Nathaniel wracks his memory. Most likely Renee Walker, the Foxes’ other goalie. He’s torn between his need for information and his pride, between his instinctive distrust and the uncomfortable feeling that he would trust the man in front of him with his life. He has to be sure though.
“How did she get him out?” He asks accusingly.
“They’ve been talking for months,” Andrew says slowly. Not condescending, but in a way that makes it clear Nathaniel should have known this already. “She went in and got him when Kengo died.”
Nathaniel’s world tilts on its axis for the second time in the past 24 hours. When Kengo died? Kengo is dead? And then his thoughts aren’t the only things spinning – there’s a metallic taste in his mouth, the door behind him clicks open, and Nathaniel stumbles back, shoving his way around the new arrival and away from Minyard’s reaching hand, nearly falling down the stairs in his haste to get away, get away, get away, before he’s–
******
Nathaniel wakes up in surroundings that are both more and less familiar.
And here's the thing. Nathaniel realized very quickly that he could take objects with him when he travels. His clothes, his racquet, whatever he's touching travels with him.
But for the first time, he wishes desperately that he experimented more, that he told someone about this. Kevin would have whipped up a game plan full of exhausting and boring scientific drills within seconds. Maybe he’d have more answers than questions for once.
Still, nothing Nathaniel’s done could have prepared him to come to in his ten-year old body.
It takes him a moment to realize. The cool, dark tones of the Nest loosen something in his chest, and he’s relieved to be home, even if he’s somehow ended up closer to the court than his room (apparently he’s going to have to get used to traveling through space AND time).
Then he reaches to scratch his elbow absentmindedly and realizes how badly he’s fucked up.
His limbs look alien – too thin, too gangly, none of the painstakingly built muscle or calluses from years of Exy and all its related triumphs and punishments.
His eyes catch on his palm. The skin is smooth, even though he remembers sitting on the floor of he and Jean’s shared room, prying open a can of stolen peaches with a knife. They were so hungry that they didn’t notice right away when Nathaniel sliced his hand on the jagged metal lid.
To see physical evidence of his partner erased like this is…. jarring.
He’s not going to figure anything out from the storage closet, so he pushes his way out of the small room and into a familiar nightmare.
Noises from the nearby court echo down the hallway, shoes squeaking, children shouting out plays and passes, travel bags littering the hall.
He remembers this. He couldn’t forget this day if he tried. A knot of dread pulls tight in his gut, squeezing until he’s trembling. No matter how many times he tells himself he’s had worse days, much worse days, that this day was the beginning of the rest of his life and the day he learned he might be able to earn his freedom, no matter what he tells himself – his hands still shake.
Is this real, or a dream? A memory? Is he dead?
The sounds of Exy are like a siren call drawing him through the locker room. Nathaniel walks like he’s going to meet his executioner. His vision tunnels. He slips unnoticed past the teenagers at their lockers, following the familiar path to Evermore’s court.
Sticking his head out around the doorframe feels like sticking his neck on a guillotine. Kids are paired off for warm-up drills, rotating through tests of agility, strength, and precision.
At center court are two young boys, scrawny and sweaty, not particularly unique in the crowd of scrawny and sweaty children save for their black uniforms. But the other kids orbit them like planets around a sun, sneaking glances and showing off for the princes of Exy.
Kevin Day and Riko Moriyama. And if they’re on court… Neil squints until he can make out three figures through the plexiglass, seated a few rows back near the center. It’s the only time he’s seen Ichirou out of his luxury box seats, leaning forward to listen as Tetsuji whispers something in his ear.
Though he knows it’s coming, Nathaniel’s limbs lock up and his throat closes as he recognizes the third man sitting with them. It’s the only time he’s ever seen his father in the stands.
That, if nothing else, cements his location in time. This is the day Nathaniel first met Kevin and Riko. This was his first bloody trip to Castle Evermore, the day he found that there was something worth living for. The day his mother tried to run and cost herself her life and Nathaniel his freedom.
Frying pan, fire.
Jean isn’t even here yet. He’s still in France. He has no idea what’s in store for him.
Nathaniel ducks back into the locker room before anyone sees him and curls up in the tight space between the last locker and the wall that he hasn’t fit in since he hit his growth spurt at fourteen.
Obviously his last jump was a fluke. In what messed up world would Kevin end up playing with the Foxes? Something had to have gone majorly wrong. But then, Jean was alive… Nathaniel clutches his head, tugging at his hair. How is he supposed to save Jean if he isn’t even here yet?
He’s distracted by something warm slipping down his face and over his lips. He swipes absently at his nose and his fingers come away red. Blood. There’s a tugging at his center, pulsing in time with a dull ache in his head. This trip has been strange, but Nathaniel knows what that means. He doesn’t have much time left. Either this is going to kill him, or he’s going to get pulled back to the present.
“Nate, what the – oh my god, is that blood?”
Nathaniel scrubs at his nose with the hem of his black shirt before glancing up at the distraught boy in front of him. A messy “2” is scrawled on his cheekbone in Sharpie, stark against a face which is even paler than usual. Kevin never could handle blood.
“I’m fine, it’s just–”
“Damn Wesninski, picking fights already?” And wherever Kevin went, Riko was never far behind. Or maybe it was the other way around. Nathaniel’s head swims. He rises, giving his face one last swipe.
“You’re just smearing it around,” Kevin mutters.
Riko slings an arm around Nathaniel’s shoulder and tugs. “Whatever, it looks badass. Let’s go scare those West Coast kids!”
Kevin clears his throat tentatively. “I think Nate’s father is looking for y–”
“Oh, right! Your father sent us to get you, he’s with Onii-sama now in one of his meeting rooms. I can show you where to go, he doesn’t like people wandering around his offices.” Riko huffs. “You should probably clean that off your face too, then.”
“Right,” Nathaniel croaks, cold to his core. He nods at the sinks. “I’ll just – I’ll meet you in the hall, give me a minute.”
“Hurry up,” Riko calls over his shoulder, bounding out without looking back. Kevin pauses, eyes searching, but then he leaves as well.
As soon as they round the corner, Nathaniel lunges for the corner locker that he stashed his duffel bag in. It’s got a broken lock, so no one uses it, but he knows how to jimmy it open from the right angle. He rifles around for his notebook.
It isn’t a foolproof plan, or even a necessarily good one, but it’s all he’s got. He can’t help smearing blood across the cover and the first few pages as he flips to an empty space and writes in large block letters, “RENEE WALKER, RECRUIT, GOALIE.” He doesn’t know where she is or how to find her, doesn’t even know if his actions now have an impact on his future, but he has to try.
She saved Jean in that other world where everything was upside down. Maybe she can do what Nathaniel couldn’t and save him this time, too.
Folding the book, he shoves it to the bottom of his bag beneath his clothes, wedges the locker door shut, and hurriedly wets a wad of paper towels to clean his face off.
Then he goes to face his father. He doesn’t travel back to the present for another 56 minutes.
*****
Nathaniel very nearly gets away with it.
It’s strange, living with these new overlapping memories – like the opposite of losing a tooth and poking around at the gap with your tongue. Renee’s appearance fills a gap Nathaniel didn’t know existed, but she neatly folds into their lives as if she was always there (which, Nathaniel guesses, in this new reality, she was).
He remembers writing her name in his notebook in a desperate bid to change reality, and he also remembers finding her name the next day, scrawled among water marks and blood stains.
He was transported directly back to the present about an hour after Riko took him to meet his father and Ichirou – he didn’t relive his entire childhood – but the new memories are slowly rising to the surface while his old memories sink and fade.
When the Ravens started looking for a new goalie Kevin's freshman year, Nathaniel put Renee’s name forward. Riko was hardly impressed with her high school performance, but Kevin owes Nathaniel a favor. Nathaniel ensures Jean goes along to extend the recruitment offer.
Nathaniel doesn’t like Renee – initially because of the way Riko treated them, the assumptions he made about why Nathaniel pushed so heavily to recruit her. Then he gets to know her, and he likes her even less. She tucks her cool and calculated persona behind a calm, Christian facade, and Nathaniel trusts her about as far as he can throw her. (She’s taller than he is, but light, so maybe five feet?)
No, he doesn’t like Renee. But he needs her. Because when he comes to graduation night with blood spattered across the lower half of his face and a sharp stabbing at the back of his head, Jean is the one kneeling beside him, and nothing else matters.
It would be a lie to say he never thinks of the strange jump between his past and his present – the awkward sideways step into a nonsensical world where Kevin wasn’t a Raven and the worst Exy team in the NCAA called him ‘Neil’ with a horrible fondness.
Anyway. He very nearly gets away with it.
Except a couple weeks later, Nathaniel opens his locker and a boy with auburn hair and fury in his blue eyes tumbles out, using his momentum to slam them back into the opposite row of lockers, knife pointed at Nathaniel’s throat.
“Give him back,” he growls.
For all intents and purposes, Nathaniel is looking at himself.
“What.” It’s like looking in a mirror if your reflection was trying to kill you. This is what he gets for messing around with time. He should’ve known Jean’s life wasn’t free. Nothing in their lives is fucking free, or fair, but he’ll be damned if this freak shows up out of nowhere wearing his face and tries to undo one of the only good things he’s ever done.
“You know what I’m talking about,” Other Nathaniel snarls, “I remember you. Whatever you did, undo it. Give Andrew back,” he snarls, “And Renee too, while you’re fucking at it.”
*****
might go back and extend/polish and drop it on ao3 if people are interested?
shoutout to my sister who suggested Raven!Renee when I was brainstorming what kind of change Nathaniel could make that might save Jean’s life while fucking up Andrew’s. I have not known a moment of peace since but I’m torn between dropping tiny unconnected snippets here and committing to a full multi-chapter fic
#this is so chaotic someone should have stopped me from playing LIS directly after both oxenfree games#the foxhole court#aftg#foxhole court au#jean moreau#neil josten#nathaniel wesninski#tw suicide reference#time loop brain rot#this was meant to be a brief summary :')#kevin day#sav writes#aftg fic#raven!neil
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Lean in, let go
I feel fear for the very last time
Will (Danganronpa AU)
#oc#artists on tumblr#artwork#art#oc art#furry#sfw furry#safe fur work#tw suicide reference#cat#danganronpa#danganronpa oc#danganronpa thh#dr1#drthh#song based#the living tombstone#my ordinary life
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Malectober Day 23: Fall
Bit of a shorter chapter today! This is the first chapter I’ve written that is specifically about show and not book Malec.
It was a cool September night, the sky inky black over Brooklyn. Alec leaned on the rail of the balcony, looking over the city. Inside, he could hear Magnus humming as he mixed drinks for them.
Alec leaned over the ledge a little, looking down. Far below were the lights and sounds of traffic, cars moving through the busy streets. He gripped the railing tighter. He remembered another night at the loft, when he’d stood in this same spot. Now he stood by the railing, but back then he’d been standing on it. He remembered the voices in his head, drowning his senses, dragging him under. Weak. Murderer. He remembered looking down at the traffic below him, blood rushing in his ears, wanting desperately to be rid of every tiny bit of hurt. It had been easy to lean back into the awful drop. The feeling of weightlessness, the terrifying rush, had been freeing.
Sometimes, on bad days, he almost wanted to feel it again.
Today was a bad day.
Alec was so caught in his thoughts that he didn’t hear Magnus’s step on the balcony until he was right behind him. He could feel Magnus’s eyes on him, knew he should turn around and face him, but he couldn’t.
“Alec.” Magnus sighed. He sounded sad, but not angry. There was a faint clink as he put down the glasses he carried, then his arms were wrapping around Alec’s shoulders. For a long moment, Alec couldn’t move, couldn’t quite tear himself away from the edge. Then he shuddered and leaned back, not into empty air but Magnus’s arms.
“It’s alright, darling.” Magnus murmured into his ear. “Come away from the edge.”
Alec let Magnus lead him inside and shut the door. The cold night air dissipated, giving way to warmth and light. The voices still whispered at the edge of his mind, but he could ignore them now.
He was lucky that he always had Magnus to pull him back from the edge.
#malectober#malectober 2022#malectober22#malec#shadowhunters#i just have a lot of thoughts about alec's character in the show vs the books#might write a whole analysis on it one day#alec lightwood#magnus bane#alec lightwood bane#magnus lightwood bane#the shadowhunter chronicles#tsc#cassandra clare#malec fanfic#tw suicide reference
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Happy August 22nd Death Note LABB Fans!
Spoilers for Death Note LABB below:
Before we continue:
Alright, now, let’s continue! ❤️
Here’s what his calendar says:
(Don’t worry, he survived… barely…)
#yes this is an incorrect jthm quote#it fit him too well#beyond birthday#death note#death note another note#death note labb#dn#dn another note#dn labb#death note spoilers#death note another note spoilers#death note labb spoilers#dn spoilers#dn another note spoilers#dn labb spoilers#tw suicide#tw suicide reference#tw suicide mention#mint mumbles
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I'm gonna be honest, Logan, it does strike me as odd that only half of you seem to have two cores. That aside, I don't know that Depression /should/ be left behind. The thing about Depression is that I can shape who a person is in a lot of ways. And yeah, it can do a lot of harm. But if we listen to those early warning signs of Depression, it can help us reach out to loved ones. Even if Depression isn't a core or isn't a Side, that doesn't make not a part of a person.
Logan leans back against a tree: "and Depression is a cry for help- its trauma we don't really talk about much. Depression can happen because of a lot of factors but outside of it running in a family, trauma and stress can trigger it as well. All of us being here talking this through, being kind to iurselvea and treating each other gently is significantly a good help towards mitigating Depression but if it's trauma based there's a chance that.... well.... that Depression might be more than meets the eye. After all, Depression or a mental medically provable imbalance of chemicals that, often with medication, care, kindness and therapy, can be treated. I don't think it's something we could leave behind if we tried and I have been having suspicions that the reason Depression is so intense right now is one of two things- one.... ita affecting all of us but how is it reaching us all so intensely and quickly? And two, and much more pressing and worrying for me..." He hushes very quiet. "What if we weren't pushed?" Doesn't it seem a little odd that none of us remember something so signifficant?"
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My mum keeps trying to recommend me and my dad AI generators and since I'm banned from saying "I'd rather drink bleach" in the house, I've got "I'd rather walk into the salon and ask for the Monk Special" locked and loaded for the next instance
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Tw- one reference to suicide and general annoyance at online ppl also long post
Tldr- I hate ppl on tiktok that don't know how fandoms work
I hate the way that tiktok has done an absolute u-turn in terms of how ppl are approaching fandom. Especially in the stranger things fandom which I'm not really a fan of but my fyp often segways there. Like I remember when season 4 first came out and suddenly everyone was a fan of the character Eddie and making chrissy wake up remixes - cosplayers were doing great too. But now suddenly after one clip of some teens at a comic con singing shmoyos chrissy wake up remix its now full of ppl going "this is my 13th reason" "-🤓" "chronically online" "I hate the new fandom" and calling it cringe and u all know the kinda thing
Like what happened to cringe culture is dead and just letting ppl have fun
God forbid ppl get passionate about a show and make fan content like songs and cosplays and recreate bits of the show or heaven forbid ppl do the tiktok equivalent of x reader fics
U can really tell that a lot of ppl on that godforsaken clock app have never interacted with a show past calmly enjoying it and once it's considered uncool they all turn on those that are super into it and suddenly there's a load of bullying as assholes get a kick out of tearing into these ppl
Hate to break it to u but fandoms are gonna have cringe
I wish these ppl could've witness like superwholock and shit when it was big but I'm also so glad they didn't cos they are the most toxic ppl I've seen online with how willing they are to just suddenly change their mind to follow the crowd.
As if these ppl were thirsting over Eddie and are now bullying kids for being "weird" and "freaks"
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Fate's Children
by c!fundy
fate’s children don’t have a lucky star/held at gunpoint, they won’t see another day/faced with abysmal heights/they’ll feel the pretty bow around their neck tighten/fate’s children, faced with destiny will turn their backs/because they’ve seen it all before/they followed her into the war/fate’s children, like you and me/see nothing in eternity
#my poetry#poetry#c!fundy#c!fundy poem#c!fundy writing vent poetry I see it so much guys#dream smp poetry#dream smp#tw mentioned death#tw suicide reference
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TW: slight blood and suicide reference
there’s 86 days left ‘till my doom
i hate the education system with all my might
i need to smoke ‘till i can’t breathe and stand
i really just wish i could die silently
(i didn’t try to write a poem, no)
#tw blood#tw suicide reference#shapes and colors#my art#damn#i forgot to add my signature before taking the photo so you get picsart signature#i just realized#the hair looks fucking awful#like- the whole drawing does#but i spent an hour or so for it… (and lots of fucking crying)#so i’m gonna just fuck it and post it#Spotify
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Tagging for gore, references to suicide
I found this new album and I wanna talk about it.
https://youtu.be/d3NsU5XjAkk
One of my LEAST favorite things about being a metalhead is that certain countries get certain stereotypes about the metal they produce. The scandies have their black metal racists, the germans have their industrial, the british have their soul infusions...it really only seems to be *America* that gets to choose its metal destiny from different pools and genres.
And while there are many examples of why this is wrong, the most egregious example IMO is Japan. To a casual metal listener, Japan is known for Dir en Grey and idolmetal, big sweeping orchestral metal and electronica infused metal that, with all due respect to said artists, just sounds so *flat* to me. How is this the metal that Japan is known for? Why not the Post-black metal of Asunojokei, or the Deathcore wails of Visions of Fatima?
Well, there's another band I can add to my list of 'no, seriously, stop treating countries as monoliths' with BLOW YOUR BRAINS OUT and their new album The Big Escape.
Squeaky clean rock production does very little to hide the obvious influences of this band; I could easily imagine them on tour with bands like End It or Trash Talk, with their trashing drums and shitty guitar distortion. The album barely takes a minute to breathe, one four-on-the-floor slugfest to the next without stopping. Even the interlude, Permanent Error acts less as a cool down and more as a buildup A la Knocked Loose. The goal of the album, and of the band itself (with such a transgressive title and VIOLENT album art) seems to be the goal of any good, honest punk outfit: Weed out the fakes.
It's an instant classic, up there with the aforementioned End It's Unpleasent Living and G.L.O.S.S.’s Give Violence a Chance.
If you're a fan of gritty, hardcore punk music, it comes highly reccommended.
#TW gore#TW suicide reference#BYBO#WARNING! WARNING! THE BAND G.L.O.S.S. HAS BEEN MENTIONED#I REPEAT#THEBAND G.L.O.S.S. HAS BEEN MENTIONED
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Should he have died, Kutner edition
#house md#hate crimes md#lawrence kutner#cw suicide reference#tw suicide reference#suicide reference#suicide#tw suicide#cw suicide
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Sometimes I feel Bad.
This isn't a vent but just....how I feel and I feel...Bad.
I'm just getting my feelings out and I feel bad. Because....well...
My sister asked me something, genuinely asked me because she was worried the other day and I'm still processing it. We joked about it after but I'm still thinking about it and I...feel bad I've made her look out for this in me.
See It's December. December is a bad month for a lot of my family because of a shared event, some have lasting trauma and some have moved on.
D and I haven't.
So my depression is Bad right now and D is isolating herself more than usual.
So we were hanging out in our living room, playing a game she likes together that I don't and I....I just genuinely wanted to play a game with her because I've had a rough time and playing video games with her makes me ...feel better. She makes me feel better so I had texted her during my lunch at work that I wanted to play something together cause we hadn't in a bit !
So we were playing this game called Super Monkey Ball for the Wii! I don't like it much but I know she does and I wanted to play something she likes ! She's also having a hard time y'know? And so we're playing and after a couple rounds she turns to me and....what she asked me is stuck in my head.
"You're....not gonna kill yourself right ?"
...it...hurt. I laughed about it and told her no and why she would think that because Genuinely I'm NOT . I've had my brain be rude but I haven't had any solid thoughts or plans or anything like that ! We joked after and our Padre joined but...
But she knows me. She knows me better than anyone else ! Even my partner, I love dino so so so much but no one gets me like D, we've grown up way to close for anyone to know me better.
And she knows the signs.
Because she's seen them before.
Because it was a sign before.
The way she said it... It was genuine concern. She's not an expressive person, she doesn't voice her concern in obvious ways, at least not obvious to others. She's subtle. Little things to show she's worried so her just...outwardly saying it.
It was a shock...I feel bad for making her think about that with me.
It makes me realise that even if I didn't realise it before... I traumatised my little sister. I did the one thing I never wanted to do because we've had enough of that.
I can't do anything to change it , I just feel bad y'know? I'm not upset right now, I'm just processing it out loud.
I'm gonna put trigger warnings and maybe my rant tag but I really didn't mean it to be ... Idk a true vent ? It technically is I guess skdjd
But it's not from a place of hurting or anything like that, I don't need help or any advice or comfort. I'm just processing things.
It's a weird thing to think about so intensely but I dwell on things too much y'know ? Plus it's ... Nearly 6 am and I've barely slept sksjs I don't know if this is cohesive in any way sksjs
If you want a tone to this just ... Imagine me laying in my floor staring at me ceiling and rambling...that's what this is to me at least...staring at the ceiling and idly rambling about what's been on my mind.
I hope y'all have a lovely holiday season. Have a picture of my Boy, Baxter, if you made it to the end of this ... Yes he's staring down at my from my headboard. He's judging us all.
Also this is my first time doing ALT text so if I need to improve it in any way let me know 👍👍
Also I should ... Sleep...or at least rest aksjsj
#remus rambles#i mean in the truest sense of rambling i am#tw suicide mention#tw suicide reference#I've slept like 2 hours#or at least under 3 because my watch didn't have enough to track it#but yeah#this is just rambling#ill put my rant tag in case#remus rants
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Hi, I went to the cinema last night with an angry lil army guy who I hope will be my friend for a long time to come. We laughed, we were evil, we were caring, and most of all we embraced Halloween together (which meant a lot, as it’s my favourite day of the year and he… well he’s a Scrooge, always).
The film really exceeded my expectations and I can’t wait for it to come out so I can watch it again (& honestly just reminisce about what a good time we had). We’re going to look into season tickets as we need to go see every other film that was advertised too! Which works out as he bought me far far too much sealed popcorn, which I will bring with me on our next visit(s) 🍿🤭 and a tango ice blast 🤭 which may have made me sick twice since, and has given me a migraine splitting enough to part the Red Sea, but… I felt like a kid again, I drank my calories (!!!!!), and who could say no to “Sour Pear” and green tongues 🥰
Most of all though I suppose (and I’m realising this as a write it, which is why I mustn’t stop these little dairies, ok, me??), he treated me like I mattered. He asked me questions about my perspectives, genuinely listened to my responses and didn’t just rush through them so he could share more himself… if he couldn’t hear me or misunderstood he would ask again, rather than moving on regardless… He took me on a 20 minute speed walk to the nearest Nandos because he knew I wouldn’t enjoy my dinner without a packet of hot sauce… he held out his hand to take my wrappers and hat as we hurried back to the cinema without saying a word, enabling me to eat as we went… he… he noticed me. In a way I haven’t felt noticed since I was a child, he noticed me.
So, in conclusion (heheh), yes i feel hungover from a kids drink. Yes, i am having a really bad day, and yes, those waves of suicidal panic may continue to overwhelm me as the day goes on. But nothing is going to happen. I am stronger than any of the voices, and even if I’m not, I will reread this, I will play the Halloween opening theme through my headphones, and it will pass. I cemented a great friendship last night, I experienced the (forever? prolly not) ending of a franchise I’ve loved for years and honestly… i managed to leave the house & really enjoy myself on my favourite day of the year!
Nothing else matters rn 🖤
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why is this so funny to me
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