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@griefhaunt
an independent roleplay blog for š£šš¦šš¬ ššØšØš¤ from š¬š¤š¢š§š¬. headcanon heavy roleplay blog. dark and mature themes. 25+ only.
written by lissi. headcanon and canon. tw include: drugs, addiction, abuse, violence, self-harm.
exclusive with yana: @sorrycoping, @honeylies, @inheritsins.
Today means nothing. Today is just a ghost thatās haunting me. Iām at the end of the world, on the edge of things and I think about letting go. I think about falling. My name is James Cook. I did something once, my ghosts wonāt let me forget it.
Skins (2010)
Skins (2009)
i've been trying to teach my pup to smile. :') also hi i havent been around cause i've been nursing a hurt neck. so i just read books instead.
Skins (2009)
living takes more than to just survive.
life, as cook had known it, had been full of fun, heartache, and violence. he was a creature of violence; he had been told once that people who are hurt divvy out that pain through their fists. he had scars on his fist to show how he shared his pent up sadness. they would know his sorrow by way of blood and bruises. he couldnāt speak, he feared the words would come out in a scream. there was regret. he wished he had been better, a better friend, a better son. better for them, better to them. he wasnāt, and wishes werenāt always meant to come true. sometimes they sat in your head like a taunt of what you werenāt and what you could never be.
survival came with murder; running away was the safest option. he had done so many things wrong. he could name the right things heās done in his twenty one years of living on his fingers. the wrong were infinite; he was an infection. and if nothing else, he could cut himself from everyone elseās life before he ruined it. ā yeah, ā a nod, the word came quick. he didnāt want to make eye contact, he didnāt want her to see the hurt that hid behind them. ā but sometimes there's no choice but to survive. living is a privilege. one i donāt think iām lucky enough to have. ā his mouth twitches between straight and a frown as sorrow grips his throat. ā besides... i donāt think i deserve it. ā
and just like that, weāre starting over. / effy.
poets write about love like itās ethereal, a beauty so unreal it changes you. cook knew better. he knew it was dark, and destroying, a storm tearing your insides apart ā heād torn himself apart for it. ruined relationships just for a taste of it; they donāt talk about how it changes you, turns you into someone rotten, because love is a drug. especially when youāve never known it. and cook had never known it, not like this. not like her. so he held onto it so tight he left bruises, white knuckled and desperate for it.
when he left everything behind there were pieces of his past that clung to him, he drug the love around at his ankles, begging for it to leave his mind. begging for release, heart sick was harder than a hangover, it was harder than kicking any drug from your system; because it latches itself onto your heart and when you think youāre okay it squeezes, and you feel the weight of it in your chest, and in your stomach. it makes you want to cry, throw up, and give up.
seeing her again felt like he was rediscovering himself. it felt like he found himself at the edge and someone had given him a reason to live; he stepped back, took her in, and though his walls had been built so tall he couldnāt find a way out somehow, she had found her way in. he stared at her; lying next to him. they were both undressed. a mix of last nightās alcohol and activities in the air. he blew out a breath and realised: i slept. heād spent so long running. never comfortable enough to rest.
he wanted to hold her closer; to let this be. to let their twisted, and toxic love finally flourish into something that could be beautiful. they were better now, weren't they? he hoped so. ā eff, ā he began, his voice sounded unsteady. ā i have to tell you about... ā his throat seized up, and the ache of a sob settled in. ā freddieā¦ ā his name came out hard, and he felt like something broke inside of himself. ā i have to tell you about him. ā it was only fair; she had loved him too.
JAMES COOK Skins UK | 4.06
started a rewatch of skins the other night. time to feel sad again.
āĀ š¢Ā Ā ššØš®š„šĀ Ā šš¢š§šĀ Ā šĀ Ā š©š„šššĀ Ā ššØš«Ā Ā š²šØš®,Ā Ā š²šØš®Ā Ā š¤š§šØš°ā¦Ā āĀ Ā theĀ Ā offerĀ Ā cameĀ Ā unpromptedĀ Ā andĀ Ā afterĀ Ā aĀ Ā stillĀ Ā silenceĀ Ā betweenĀ Ā theĀ Ā two.Ā Ā @griefhauntĀ Ā hadĀ Ā mentionedĀ Ā manyĀ Ā timesĀ Ā howĀ Ā oftenĀ Ā heĀ Ā roamed.Ā Ā theĀ Ā pie-makerĀ Ā listenedĀ Ā asĀ Ā ifĀ Ā theĀ Ā lifestyleĀ Ā wereĀ Ā exciting.Ā Ā but,Ā Ā inĀ Ā truth,Ā Ā heĀ Ā thoughtĀ Ā itĀ Ā lonely.Ā Ā heĀ Ā musedĀ Ā onĀ Ā theĀ Ā ideaĀ Ā forĀ Ā aĀ Ā longĀ Ā whileĀ Ā beforeĀ Ā proposingĀ Ā itĀ Ā toĀ Ā cook,Ā Ā wonderingĀ Ā howĀ Ā theĀ Ā otherĀ Ā mightĀ Ā takeĀ Ā it.Ā
āĀ š¬š°ššš©š¢š§š Ā Ā šš„šØšØš«š¬,Ā Ā šš®š¬š¬š¢š§š ,Ā Ā šØš«,Ā Ā š”šš„š„,Ā Ā š²šØš®Ā Ā ššØš®š„šĀ Ā ššÆšš§Ā Ā š¦šš§Ā Ā šš”šĀ Ā ššØš®š§ššš«.Ā Ā š š¢šÆšĀ Ā š¦šĀ Ā š¦šØš«šĀ Ā šš¢š¦šĀ Ā š¢š§Ā Ā šš”šĀ Ā š¤š¢ššš”šš§.Ā āĀ Ā theĀ Ā pie-makerĀ Ā madeĀ Ā theĀ Ā lastĀ Ā commentĀ Ā withĀ Ā aĀ Ā slightĀ Ā chuckle.Ā Ā itĀ Ā wasĀ Ā noĀ Ā secretĀ Ā thatĀ Ā heĀ Ā preferredĀ Ā theĀ Ā backgroundĀ Ā moreĀ Ā thanĀ Ā theĀ Ā spotlight,Ā Ā evenĀ Ā inĀ Ā hisĀ Ā ownĀ Ā shop.Ā Ā heĀ Ā hadĀ Ā hopedĀ Ā theĀ Ā offerĀ Ā soundedĀ Ā lessĀ Ā likeĀ Ā pity,Ā Ā andĀ Ā moreĀ Ā likeĀ Ā whatĀ Ā itĀ Ā was;Ā Ā anĀ Ā option.
he wished it were that simple. he didnāt blame ned for trying to help, hellā¦ he was grateful; but he was trouble. his mother said it best. he is an infection. he smiled though; looking up at ned and giving a nod. ā not sure that's for the best mate; best thing for me is to stay low, you get what i mean? ā
he wanted to stay. he wanted to live a normal life again but he agreed; his mother was right. he had ruined everything he came in contact with and he would ruin this too; no place was safe for him, and if it werenāt safe for him it would be unsafe for others. ā iāveā¦ done things, ned. things i canāt forget. things thatā¦ i canāt forgive. ā he couldn't let his face be known.
Skins (2010)
theĀ Ā gratitudeĀ Ā madeĀ Ā himĀ Ā smile.Ā Ā toothĀ Ā brushĀ Ā hangingĀ Ā fromĀ Ā hisĀ Ā lips,Ā Ā foamĀ Ā drippingĀ Ā intoĀ Ā theĀ Ā sinkĀ Ā whereĀ Ā theĀ Ā loudĀ Ā faucetĀ Ā quicklyĀ Ā washedĀ Ā itĀ Ā away.Ā Ā hisĀ Ā humbleĀ Ā littleĀ Ā singleĀ Ā wideĀ Ā wasnātĀ Ā reallyĀ Ā worthĀ Ā beingĀ Ā thankfulĀ Ā for.Ā Ā fourĀ Ā wallsĀ Ā andĀ Ā aĀ Ā roofĀ Ā tuckedĀ Ā strategicallyĀ Ā awayĀ Ā inĀ Ā theĀ Ā ass-crackĀ Ā ofĀ Ā town,Ā Ā blendingĀ Ā inĀ Ā withĀ Ā theĀ Ā restĀ Ā ofĀ Ā theĀ Ā shitĀ Ā aroundĀ Ā him.Ā Ā itĀ Ā didnātĀ Ā keepĀ Ā companyĀ Ā often.Ā Ā inĀ Ā fact,Ā Ā itĀ Ā hardlyĀ Ā keptĀ Ā him.Ā Ā herrisĀ Ā heardĀ Ā cookĀ Ā asĀ Ā heĀ Ā calledĀ Ā out,Ā Ā ofĀ Ā course.Ā Ā heĀ Ā couldĀ Ā hearĀ Ā everyĀ Ā moveĀ Ā heĀ Ā made,Ā Ā andĀ Ā theĀ Ā veryĀ Ā momentĀ Ā hisĀ Ā breathĀ Ā hadĀ Ā goneĀ Ā fromĀ Ā wakingĀ Ā panicĀ Ā toĀ Ā frustrationĀ Ā overĀ Ā hisĀ Ā missingĀ Ā shirtĀ Ā (Ā itĀ Ā wasĀ Ā tuckedĀ Ā beneathĀ Ā theĀ Ā couch,Ā Ā niceĀ Ā andĀ Ā tightĀ ).
heĀ Ā hadĀ Ā toĀ Ā duckĀ Ā slightlyĀ Ā beneathĀ Ā theĀ Ā archĀ Ā beforeĀ Ā movingĀ Ā downĀ Ā aĀ Ā short,Ā Ā narrowĀ Ā hallĀ Ā (Ā theyĀ Ā didnātĀ Ā comeĀ Ā inĀ Ā hisĀ Ā sizeĀ )Ā Ā toĀ Ā meetĀ Ā cookĀ Ā inĀ Ā whatĀ Ā wasĀ Ā meantĀ Ā toĀ Ā beĀ Ā aĀ Ā livingĀ Ā room.Ā Ā aĀ Ā couch,Ā Ā aĀ Ā lamp,Ā Ā andĀ Ā aĀ Ā blockyĀ Ā tvĀ Ā whichĀ Ā heĀ Ā hasnātĀ Ā testedĀ Ā forĀ Ā aĀ Ā signal.Ā Ā hisĀ Ā toothbrushĀ Ā stillĀ Ā hungĀ Ā fromĀ Ā hisĀ Ā mouth.Ā Ā āĀ šš”š¢š§š Ā Ā š¢š¬ā¦Ā Ā š¢Ā Ā ššØš§āšĀ Ā šš”š¢š§š¤Ā Ā š¢āšÆšĀ Ā šššš§Ā Ā š²šØš®š«Ā Ā š¬š¢š³šĀ Ā š¬š¢š§ššĀ Ā š¬šššØš§ššš«š²Ā Ā š¬šš”šØšØš„.Ā āĀ Ā heĀ Ā teasesĀ Ā withĀ Ā aĀ Ā softĀ Ā snort,Ā Ā pausingĀ Ā forĀ Ā comedicĀ Ā effect.Ā Ā āĀ š¬šš¢š„š„,Ā Ā ššš§āšĀ Ā š¬šš§šĀ Ā š²šØš®Ā Ā šØš®šĀ Ā šš±š©šØš¬š¢š§š Ā Ā šš”šØš¬šĀ Ā ššššš„š²Ā Ā š°ššš©šØš§š¬Ā Ā šš§šĀ Ā šš„š„.Ā Ā š©šš°,Ā Ā š©šš°ā¦Ā āĀ Ā oneĀ Ā byĀ Ā oneĀ Ā hisĀ Ā handsĀ Ā imitateĀ Ā guns,Ā Ā takingĀ Ā aimĀ Ā atĀ Ā eitherĀ Ā ofĀ Ā cookāsĀ Ā nipples.Ā Ā ifĀ Ā notĀ Ā cook,Ā Ā heĀ Ā makesĀ Ā himselfĀ Ā laughĀ Ā beforeĀ Ā beckoningĀ Ā theĀ Ā youngerĀ Ā manĀ Ā along.Ā Ā āĀ ššØš¦šĀ Ā šš§šĀ Ā š”ššÆšĀ Ā šĀ Ā š„šØšØš¤.Ā ā
cook couldnāt help but laugh, though it sounded more like a scoff. his real laughter was still bottled somewhere in his stomach, making him sick; am i deserving of that? that laughter reminded him of who he used to be. how carefreeā¦ ah, that's it. he thought; in an odd endearing way, harris reminded him of his uncle keith; always equipped with some quip or another - and that was one thing cook liked about him; oneā¦ admittedly, cook liked a lot of things about herris; but that was one thing that never left him. he found a reason to like most people even when they werenāt entirely likable. was that a good trait? it felt nice to smile, though, would feel even better if he found his shirt. ā hah, not sure you were ever my size, mate. ā he eyes him up and down; huge man. ā maybe fresh out the womb. ā he wipes his hands on his pants, his nerves were growing now. heād been stagnant for far too long. he needed to move before someone found him.
he moved to close the distance between them, now to overly aware of his own nipples; thank you, herris for shooting those out. it didnāt matter though, cook felt comfortable with herris, again, because of uncle keith. ā nah, man just pick one you donāt want anymore. maybe i can tear it a bit, make it fit better. ā still, he enters the room. crossing the threshold. still safe, still safe. am i safe? he glances slightly over his shoulder to herris ā yeahā¦ ā a beat, realization. ā absolutely none of theseāll work, man. youāre a small giant. ā a bit of a contradiction of words, butā¦ there was such thing, right? even giants had babies.
šššĀ Ā šššššĀ Ā ššššššĀ Ā šššš , results? ; the slacker.
I'm a Slacker. I think I'm chill and easygoing, but I'm actually just a leech.
dudeā¦youāre the slacker! you probably donāt think of yourself as toxic because youāre so chill and easygoing, but youāre actually kind of a jerk. youāre somewhere between the kid who wonāt contribute toĀ the group project and the 50-year-old stoner who lives in their parentsā basement. your laid-back attitude means other people are constantly picking up the slack ā and itās annoying af. at some point, you decided that life is simply not something youād like to actively participate in, and youāve been living in your own alternate version of reality ever since. lazy, unreliable, and indecisive. the slacker works hard at only one thing ā avoiding responsibility.
tagged by. @werewaif love you stinka butt tagging. @sorrycoping, @venimiss, @honeylies, @airservice, @orphicrypt
most cook line ever.
thinking about cook while listening to tormenting music. don't save me.
