I'm Addicted To Your Cheeky Smile

Lost in a sea of fan fiction. Swimming through the words. With no desire to catch my breath.

[kurosara]

I stumbled across some (y/n) fanfic/short stories, and other writings I wrote 3-4+ years ago and let me tell you…

I WISH I could remember where I got these ideas and how I wrote so much 😭😩

Others may not like them but I am obsessed with how my writing used to be. I haven’t written anything since those times and man I wish I loved it again with that kind of passion

I think I might even post a couple of them here if I find the confidence

[kurosara]

Did I just project my issues onto a customer support message on Twitter to a company that didn’t deserve it?

Probably

Am I upset about it?

No bc their customer support system is trash either way 🤷🏼‍♀️ but fuck I’m projecting in CUSTOMER SUPPORT MESSAGES NOW?!?!?! My grip on my emotional stability and masking is failing miserably these days.

[kurosara]

If you ask me a question you already don’t know the answer to, you have no room to tell me my answer is wrong.

Why do I feel like that should be common sense? If I don’t know what a jackfruit tastes like and I ask you, I don’t get to tell you that’s not how it tastes. I don’t even know!

This applies to literally everything. If you don’t know something for definitive, you don’t have the room to tell someone else their potential answer is incorrect, ESPECIALLY when you asked SOLELY BECAUSE you didn’t know the answer already. Period

[threewayradio-deactivated202005]

What causes your anxiety ?

being alive

[iwantcupcakes]

The pain piles on in Civil War, sadly.

[by david christopher bell, via cracked]

[mythicalgummies-blog]

ALWAYS reblog. Signal boosting the FUUUUUUUUuuck outta this.

[itsagentromanoff]

Reblogging because I care about and worry about Tony even if his so-called friends write it off as Tony being Tony

[officialtonystarkprotectionsqua]

FUCKING. YES.

[somespicyshrimp]

all jokes aside, it makes me very sad how literally the entire internet, especially social media, has just become more and more unapologetic in trying to wring as much money out of you as possible. can’t go on youtube without being bombarded by youtube red ads promising that if you just give them money, they’ll block the pesky ads who are also begging for your money. can’t stream a movie without searching for it on each of the dozens and dozens of streaming platforms. all demanding individual subscriptions for their tiny share of the world’s movies that used to just all be on netflix. every news site counting down your free three articles, all the while begging you to turn your adblock off. click off instagram’s stupid shopping tab, and the first post on your timeline is with #ad. and of course, now, tumblr’s adding post plus. i hate it!! hate getting advertised at everywhere i go. hate that social media’s not even supposed to be social anymore, just another thing to monetize. i’m so sick of it!!! can’t escape it ever!!! give us 9.99 per month for exclusive fucking content!! fuck!!

[hxmlock]

“if somebody becomes panicked when you accuse them of lying theyre obviously not telling the truth” shut up ugly im a survivor who got punished for shit i never did all the time of fucking course im gonna panic when im blamed for something i didnt do

[hxmlock]

since this post is actually getting attention rn i really want to emphasize this-

many of the “tells” of lying are traits commonly found in abuse survivors and mentally ill/disabled people.

stuttering, averting eye contact, panicking, raising your volume, fidgeting, and other similar traits are actions performed commonly by these groups, especially in situations of heavy stress- such as being accused of doing something we didnt do, especially if we are afraid of being punished for doing nothing.

im honestly begging people to think critically when accusing somebody of lying for small traits like these.

[kurosara]

Why can’t I let myself give up?

[colubrina]

for the love of god, write all the self-indulgent scenes you want.  be utterly  shameless about including every last fantasy.  i know everyone likes to share quotes and quips about how miserably hard writing is, but please please try thinking of it as a joyful act where you get to be a messy human who makes art rather than some pain filled quest for icy perfection.

[anexperimentallife]

The director of cybersecurity from the Electronic Freedom Foundation is offering to help women who have been threatened with compromise of their devices.

[littlewitchlingrowan]

I better see EVERYBODY reblogging this

[captainsantos]

REBLOG PLEASE

[idhren]

see also: https://www.eff.org/pages/surveillance-self-defense

[kurosara]

Tried explaining to my mom that she shouldn’t instill high expectations on my niece (her granddaughter) because my mom said you can’t “accidentally” forget homework. Told her that instilling that can create people with high expectations on themselves and others unnecessarily.

Her response was to say “oh so that’s why both my daughters are terrible. Ok.”

Never once did I say she did create terrible people or that I was a terrible person. But instead of correcting me that “I’m not a terrible child” she reinforces it with “well that’s what you said. I created terrible people.”

So not only do I have my own crippling self doubts and insecurities, I have my mother’s reinforcement of those thoughts in my mind now.

But I’m the terrible one……

[owarim]

[ambris]

Please, never let this meme die.

[silkirose]

This is the best one I’ve seen so far

[wizardshark]

What kind of quantum fucking memeing from 2056 are you people beaming to us

[warblyzombie]

It’s fucking back

[onyx-was-here]

shooting star. i can’t believe i’m hearing shooting star again in the year 2020

[mightyinvincible]

The fates have ordained that this cross my timeline again and you better fucking believe i’m reblogging it.

This is the only good meme, don’t @ me

[kurosara]

Hongjoong x Reader

I didn’t proofread this or anything. I just wrote some middle of the night comfort I needed. 

Angst, sad

I felt my spine unconsciously shiver as yet another cool breeze fluttered heavily past me. A quick glance at my phone told me it was nearing 3 in the morning. The dim light of the screen faded, as my eyes cast back to the bare sky. It was a new moon tonight, and there weren’t many stars out either. There wasn’t anything interesting in the chilly fall weather, unless you counted the never slowing raindrops falling down my cheeks.

Why was I even crying again?

I couldn’t remember. I’d been crying that long. It hadn’t felt like it, but I’ve been sitting on the balcony of my bedroom, suffering in the chilled air, for nearly 6 hours. How long could such an overwhelming feeling last?

An eternity…

A cynical voice taunted me further with evasive thoughts similar to this. It’s dark, and lonely. I’ve whispered curses and wishes to no one. I’ve replied to… no one. Because all I could wonder was if anyone was really listening. The neatly decorated interior, fit with (f/c) furniture and various art pieces and large photos of me and my boyfriend hanging on the wall, felt eerily cruel the moment I walked in. The fleeting thought of my boyfriend stuck for a moment, like the breath hitching in my throat as I visualized his soft smile, a bit of nervousness from smiling at me for the very first time. The happy thought turned sour, the smile fading into a blank stare.

“I’ll be home late…”

The image dissipated with his words. I could barely taste the remnants of the ramen bowl I’d forced down before coming out onto the balcony. The taste was bitter and dry as I forcefully swallowed the growing lump of anxiety. My fingernails, or rather the remaining nubs since I’d chewed off all my nails earlier, felt sticky as they scratched nervously at the cold concrete I was sitting on. I could only assume it was blood from the scraping contact. The balcony’s railing taunted me similar to bars of a jail cell. But at least in prison there are other people.

But here? In this dark and lonely space I created for myself? There is no one. I’ve self-isolated. And every attempt to escape has never been followed through. If I unlocked my phone you’d see the contact pulled up where I’ve nearly called him. And before that a lengthy text that boiled down to one thing; I need you. The text was never sent of course. However, even now as I describe these feelings and sensations, I don’t feel them. They aren’t processed in my mind or my physical body. I simply sat in the corner of the balcony, knees pulled to my chest, staring into pure dark, as my body and the world continued past my racing thoughts of how this is where I should be.

I deserved to be alone.

Keys jingled in the background and it was painfully obvious the individual tried being quiet, but it wouldn’t matter. He could’ve kicked the door in screaming, and I wouldn’t budge an inch.

Hongjoong removed his shoes and hung up his coat on the nearby rack. His bag made a soft sound as he tried to gently slide it onto the couch, hoping his partner was sleeping peacefully, and trying not to disturb that. As he typically did when he ended up home this late, he trekked to the kitchen for a bottle of water to carry to bed. As he exited the kitchen, a cold breeze caught his attention.

Where’s that coming from?

Just like Hongjoong. He knew how much I hated being the slightest bit cold, so the house was always a warm temperature. He narrowed his eyes slightly as he gazed around the empty living room, noticing the cracked balcony door. Cautiously, he approached the door, peering out just the slightest bit and hoping there was no intruder lurking around.

Though he’d really hoped for that to be the case right now versus the sight he was met with.

His eyes barely made out my trembling figure in the corner, huddled against the wall. Immediately Hongjoong turned on the outdoor light and rushed to my side, carefully kneeling beside me.

“Y-y/n?” The worry was so thick in his voice, yet sweet. Like honey.

There he was. My boyfriend. Acknowledging my presence as he always does, yet I hadn’t heard a word. There was no light, though he very clearly turned one on. For a moment Hongjoong panicked. His eyes worriedly scanned my body, searching for any signs of hurt or reason for my being like this. He saw the bloody fingers and the tears still flowing. He knew what was happening, for sadly he’d seen it too many times even before they were dating. At least more times than I’d like. By now though, Hongjoong knew almost how to help. He adjusted his position to sit in front of me, his knees pulled up like mine. He touched his knees to mine, gently pulling my hands from the concrete as he rubbed soothing circles with his thumbs.

I felt the tingling of sensation from the touch, still all I saw was a never ending tunnel of darkness. Hongjoong brought my knuckles to his lips, placing gentle kisses on them before resting them onto our knees. His thumbs didn’t stop caressing the top of my hands as he simply stared into my eyes and mustered the kindest smile he could as he looked at my broken state.

“I know you probably won’t process what I’m saying right now, and that’s alright. Just focus on my voice ok?” He took a shaky breath, feeling his own tears well up, “You’ve been having a hard time lately haven’t you? I know you’ve been eating well and everything because I’ve seen it, but that doesn’t mean you’re alright. And it’s ok to not be ok. It’s not your fault.”

There was a flicker of light, like a shooting star passing across my vision. I swallowed another lump, feeling a bit of warmth from the original tingling sensation.

Hongjoong squeezed my hands, trying to urge warmth into your shivering body. Just the thought of how long you could’ve been freezing made him sick to his stomach. Nonetheless he continued to talk as calmly as he could.

“Just remember that there is someone here for you. I know you don’t always believe that, but it’s true. I am here. Right here.” A single tear rolled down his cheek unwillingly. “I’ll help you pick up the pieces you feel are broken and hold them together for you. I’ll be here to hold you steady when you’re shaking and keep you warm when you’re cold. I’m sorry I was late this time. There’s no telling how long you’ve been here.” Another tear. “But I’m here now baby. I love you.” He squeezed my hands gently once more.

Like a thread, his words formed a silver lining in the dark tunnel. My vision corrupted from pure black, to blurry shapes and images. The feeling of being frozen to my core was slowly warming in the places where his body touched mine. And finally, his beautiful, kind smile. So bright, and such a contrast to the dark space I’d been suffering in. There was a soft ringing that slowly got louder, as I realized his lips were moving. Hongjoong was speaking, yet I could only hear the ringing. Hongjoong saw the way my eyes scanned his face just the smallest bit. His smile grew a bit.

“There you are. It’s ok. Take your time.” He leaned forward, never breaking eye contact as he kissed the back of my hands lovingly.

I squeezed his hands gently, the feeling, or void of feeling, was quickly fading, and in its place a crushing weight on my throat and lungs. My chest heaved at my increased breathing pace, worrying Hongjoong as he realized the anxiety was setting in more than the previous emptiness. Without releasing my hands, he scooted to sit beside me. He let go of one hand to wrap his arm around my shoulder, leaving a gentle kiss on my temple as he whispered sweet nothings.

His voice trickled in like a small river, every other word registering before his kindness fully processed. My beating heart didn’t slow, but it became easier to breathe as I buried my head in the crook of his neck silently. He pulled me closer with one arm, resting his forehead on my hair.

“Do you want to go inside and get under the blankets?” The first full sentence I’d registered in my mind.

I absentmindedly nodded, but before I could attempt to move, Hongjoong was picking me up bridal style, careful like I was an expensive glass or diamond jewelry. Once in our shared bedroom, he placed me on the bed before tossing back the covers and tucking them around me like a child. With a reassuring smile he left the room. Although I knew where he was going, I gripped the covers tightly anxiously waiting for his return.

In a matter of minutes Hongjoong returned with two cups of hot chocolate with small marshmallows, and a pack of hershey’s kisses tucked under his arm too. He set one cup down and offered me the other, which I had to fumble from under the covers to shakily take the cup. The warm liquid felt comforting, with just a splash of caramel the way I loved it. A soft melody played as Hongjoong connected to the bluetooth speaker on the dresser, playing soft instrumentals he had been working on the days prior. Hongjoong climbed into the bed, careful of me and my drink, and opened the chocolates, feeding me one as he grabbed his own drink.

He took the drink gently from me, and pulled a small first aid kit from his pocket, beginning to tend to my wounded fingers. He tried to be as gentle as possible, though I couldn’t stop the involuntary flinching everytime there was direct contact to the broken skin. He continued mumbling soft apologies and comforting words nonetheless. Once he finished wrapping my fingers, he continued with his early motion of serving me my drink and feeding me hershey kisses.

I’m not sure how long we sat like that. Hongjoong rested his head against the headboard, one hand gently playing with strands of my hair, while the other held my own hand. Originally, he had alternated between feeding me chocolates and bringing his now cold drink to his lips. The time on Hongjoong’s phone read 5:52 am. I had long since finished my drink and passed out with my head on his shoulder sometime after 4 I think. Hongjoong hummed softly to the still playing music, like a soothing lullaby. He wanted to make sure I was fully asleep before deciding to move.

Hongjoong gently laid me on the pillow, going to turn off the lamp he’d had on and turning the music down a little more, before crawling back into bed. He cuddled me from behind, his warm chest pressed against my back as he pulled me closer to him in a tight embrace.

“Goodnight my love. Have sweet dreams. When you wake, I’ll be here. I promise. I won’t let you be lonely in the dark if I can help it. I love you. So I hope you use that love as a light. It’s not too late. So don’t give up, ok? We can do this. I love you.”

With a simple kiss to my head, he nuzzled closer, leaving me with floating thoughts.

It’s not too late. I’m not alone.

[kurosara]

My mom: hey can you- never mind*stomps away to do something aggressively*

Also my mom: *grumbling about never having help* NOT LIKE ANYBODY GIVES A DAMN!

Me: you didn’t even ask me to do anything!

My mom: *continues as if I didn’t say anything (a regular occurrence) and has an attitude with me over nothing*

I’m 22…. She’s 55…. She’s reacted this way since I was around 13. This is why I react the way I do sometimes

[kurosara]

I post here because I know nobody sees these post.

How can everyone say they care and understand how you feel but continue to shove what they think you could or should be doing with your life down your throat? Or how can a 22 year old allow her own mother to emotionally and mentally abuse her? Life isn’t gonna “get better” it’s been 10 years. I find euphoria in thinking about what I’d feel if it were me last day. And yet find overwhelming desperation to… to do Im not sure what really… the moment I open my eyes in the morning. It isn’t better. It didn’t get better. It’ll never be better. That is unless someone understands that things don’t “get better”. Maybe then will it seem like somethings changing…

[kurosara]

“You can come back when you figure out what you wanna do with your life.”

-Famous last words said to someone already one foot over a cliff

[kurosara]

Have you ever had traveling anxiety? How did you handle it? I’m asking because for years I’ve dealt with it and it’s so bad now that I can’t make a 4-5 hour round trip drive without feeling like my chest is imploding.