distorted projections

Originally posted by ssonqs-archived

Summary: What proved to be sweeter than baked chocolate chip cookies at 3 in the morning? 


A harsh clatter coming from the kitchen jolts her awake, darkness meeting her sight and she’s reaching out to his side of the bed instinctively, fingers only reaching out to empty, wrinkled sheets.

The bedside clock blinks 3 am and her heart begins to pick up, did someone break in?

Minho, where are you?

She snatches her phone from under the pillow, heaving off the bed to tiptoe across the room, halting midway when she catches the line of dim light through the ever so slightly opened door. A frown waves her groggy face when the clutter of sounds continue on the tapping of a bowl, the dull rustling of plastic bags, the slow turning of paper against paper.

Nothing clicks and she can’t piece the sounds together, having no clue of what could possibly be going on in the kitchen at this time of night. She draws a short bracing breath, poking a finger to nudge the door a little as she peeks through the gap to get a clearer view into the living room.

Light from the kitchen projects distorted shadows onto the carpet, but she knows him too well to recognize it’s him, pacing back and forth to what seem to be the cabinets, the sink, and the counter. The abrupt scare dissolves the sleep that hung on her lids, now wide awake she trudges out to where he is, doing god knows what.

“What on earth are you doing?” She asks quietly, crossing one arm over the other as she stands by the kitchen doorway.

Minho looks up in a state of shock, bed-head hair unruly in all directions as he holds onto a flour sieve in nothing but a pair of baggy sleeping shorts.

“It’s totally what it looks like” He lets out a smile too alive at this time of day, and she’s threatened to return it, “I’m making you chocolate chip cookies.”

This afternoon’s antics flash at the back of her head, leftover irritation nagging her still over how Minho had snacked on a batch of cookie dough, twice.

“I know you’re still mad about it.” Minho shrugs subtly as he turns to tap the sieve repeatedly against his palm.

She’s not, not anymore. How can anyone be seeing what she’s seeing right now?

“Minho, it’s three in the morning.” She presses a smile, trailing close to his side and nudges her shoulder to his arm.

“I couldn’t sleep.” He murmurs, concentrating while he scoops out the bicarbonate of soda rather clumsily and she’s grinning from ear to ear at his dedication.

“You’re high on cookie dough and chocolate chips, Minho.” He’s on a damn sugar rush, of course you can’t, you dork.

“You just make the best ones, okay?” Minho turns around and presses a single chocolate chip to the tip of her nose, chuckling deeply when her eyes cross to focus on what it is. “You keep ruining my diet, do you know how much more they make me do when I train? It’s fucking ridiculous.”

“You don’t need to go on one, anyway. Ugh.” She pokes his soft belly, the one she never minded.

Minho scowls, sulking a little, “Don’t you dare say I’m cute, we’re trying out a sexier concept this time and your damn cookies ain’t helping.”

It makes her break out an amused laugh, in all honesty, Minho didn’t need to try because he already is. His taste in chocolate chip cookies and strawberry ice-cream just doesn’t back it up sometimes.

But there’s so much more to him, so much more than what meets the eye and she’s completely head over heels.

“It’s not my fault you love them so much, maybe even more than me.”  

“Don’t be silly.” Minho pinches her chin with flour stained fingers, stifling a smile because she has no idea how she’s close to resembling a cookie herself. He leans in, gingerly flicking his tongue over the melted chocolate on the tip of her nose, “I love you more.”


anonymous asked:

i remember when you first uploaded project distortion and the description was like five miles long explaining all the fucking medical terms you used

I KNOW RIGHT WHAT WAS I DOING LMAO

anonymous asked:

Question: is the Yohioloid depicted in Project Distortion the same Yohioloid that's in The Distortionist? I know you weren't planning on it but,,,, y'know,,,,, it could be?

nopeee they’re entirely unrelated

Misplaced and/or Misdirected Extraverted Thinking (Te)

By misplaced and misdirected, in this context, I’m referring to ways in which the function is conducted that obstruct one and/or others’ wellbeing and growth. Some instances may be within what would be considered as ‘unhealthy’ and ‘toxic’. The following are only a few of the ways in which the Extraverted Thinking (Te) function of a person is misplaced and/or misdirected:

- Overconfidence and recklessness; being bold and taking risks can be important, but it can be taken too far - to the point where much more is lost than what was ever there to win to begin with.
- Over-controlling and micromanaging; people and things need time and space to work and be productive, being over their shoulder too much throughout the process may sabotage the possibility of better results.
- Over-delegating and entitlement; expecting and demanding from others to take care of tasks they could and should handle themselves.
- Being overly simplistic and dismissive; instead of being mentally agile and effectively reaching correct conclusions, information is carelessly processed and incorrect conclusions are believed.
- Sacrificing quality to be cost-effective; while there may be instances in life where this is the wiser choice, it is not as often as it may appear. Producing for the sake of producing can be counterproductive in many ways.
- Unyielding fixation on methods; learning a procedure and stubbornly adhering to it even when it shows to be more problematic and defective than others available to adapt to.
- Excessive ‘pragmatism’; continuing to choose what seems easier and safer over finding creative solutions to problems.
- Excessive elitism; rather than simply finding mind-mates and relatable people, looking down on and rejecting others based solely on perceived and imagined status.
- Brutal and dishonest communication; under the excuse and delusion of “just being honest,” unnecessarily saying harmful and distorted things.
- Projection; assuming they understand others when, in reality, they’re only attributing their own motives and intentions to others.

You may recognize one or more of these in the use of Extraverted Thinking (Te), from a smaller to a larger degree. Once you become aware of these, you’re more able to replace and redirect this function in more positive and constructive ways.

anonymous asked:

🍑3, 5, 9

3: summarize your current project poorly

- it’s this really cool fan fiction set in the future and all these people drink a bunch of weird drinks and the whole plot is based around those drinks

5: post a line from your current project without any context
sorry it’s two sentences omfg

-  “Lust,” he all but growled, and your blood began to boil.

9: what is the aesthetic of your current project

- EDM, distortion, neon drinks, ecstasy pills shaped like smiley faces, static on a plasma tv, sinister smiles (the Japanese mv for Blood Sweat and Tears)

- Admin PeachJin 🍑

Send me writer asks!

anonymous asked:

ghost. if you go into the comments of the Project Distortion remake, theres people who are thirsting for Gacha its not even funny

EW WHAT 

i haven’t really been keeping up with the comments as much b/c anxiety but hooooooooooooooooooo

ANALYSIS AND THEORY ON BTS EPILOGUE: YOUNG FOREVER

Yo hello its going to take awhile so sit yourself back down and let me explain the analysis of this. This epilogue (or atleast this era) is supposed to finally show the relation and back story of I Need U and Run (part 1 and part 2 era). 

From what we’ve seen before, it is clearly obvious that the main plot behind this was about a group of 7 boys talking about both the pleasures and pains of youth/being young. (the whole JIN IS DEAD and TAEHYUNG KILLED HIS FATHER thing can be considered as side plots for now).

First lets start off with the symbolisms (bc we all know how much they love doing this):

It starts off with a distorted projection of the title “YOUNG FOREVER” which was previously only “FOREVER”. Considering it is a projection, we can safely assume this is from a TV. Normally this kind of misinterpreted screen comes from a TV that’s old and worn out so the quality tends to be worse than being young and healthy. However right after this, the projection changes to show a high quality version of the title “YOUNG FOREVER”. This transition meant that although they have grown older, the spirit of their youth shall not die.

Keep reading

Integrating Inner Identities

Due to disruptive nature of society, it’s probably the case that with most, the lower self is separated from higher spiritual awareness at a pretty early age. Whether it be the programmed and conditioning behaviors of our parents, excito-toxins in our food or the electro-smog of modern day gadgetry, effectively the soul is fragmented into the bodymind and a barrier inserted to higher dimensional beingness. Our divine birthright is truncated. Most hardly notice the downgrading effect. That is until one day, we’re reunited with multi-dimensionality, realize the profound blessing and embark on a path of realignment, reunification and at-one-ment with the divine. How might we catalyze this reharmonization?…

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

In all seriousness i didn't think Project Distortion's lyrics were all that bad???

nnxbhbHGDH MM HHDJS LMAO i mean everyone’s entitled to their own opinions of course but damn if someone else showed me lyrics like those and asked for critique i’d probably be able to write a 5-page essay of criticism lmao

New York City, you are incessant
and I love you for it.

I cannot fall asleep side by side with silence.


I cannot fall asleep beside a dark window,
spotted intermittently with points of light.


I need the purple clouds, morning-adjacent,
the Poughkeepsie equivalent
of dawn, a siren down the block,
then more sirens, then a car alarm.


New York City, you are a symphony
and you amaze me.


The distorted projection of my grandmother’s windowpane
on the ceiling of her one bedroom apartment


alternates between light and dark – either headlights,
accompanied by the lull of an engine,
or silence,


or close enough.

—  APRIL THIRD: WRITE A LOVE POEM TO YOUR HOMETOWN ( s.b.l. )
                                               from @risingphoenixpress April prompts