i'm dead help me my feels

school is rlly taking it out of me at the moment, ugh

I hate when people say like “you can’t kill yourself, you’re not allowed to do that.”
It’s like UHM THIS IS MY LIFE AND ARE YOU THE ONE THAT HAS TO DEAL WITH MY PAIN? NO, EXACTLY SO STOP TELLING ME WHAT TO DO. HERE IS A TIP: hug me and say “I love you, and I’m gonna miss you if you disappear. Please stay here, everything is going to be okay.” THAT HELPS A LITTLE MORE.


sorry for angry post.

Some days I feel so hollow I swear you could scoop out the contents of my chest and I wouldn’t feel a thing. I walk weightless; a feat possible only after the conviction you’ve become nothing. So many believe a mental disorder hurts the mind, but it’s the mind that hurts me. How is something so futile so cruel?
—  Numb // A.S

anonymous asked:

i just realized that in the one shot mv yongguk is the only one who doesn't even consider running for cover when youngjae is shot (zelo too, kind of, but he looks mostly confused the whole time except when he tries to help YG) and it fucking hurts me bc it means that as soon as YJ is dead YG is fucking disregarding his own life just to get revenge for him and that shows just how much he cared about YJ and i'm sorry i'm getting one shot bangjae feels rn ;-;

BOI LEMME TELL YOU ABOUT MY BANGJAE ONE SHOT FEELS

YONGGUK PLAYING THE VIDEO ON THE LAPTOP AND BLINKING IN DISBELIEF THE MOMENT YOUNGJAE’S BLOODY FACE IS REVEALED. LIKE HE HAS TO DO A DOUBLE TAKE TO MAKE SURE WHAT HE’S SEEING IS REAL. THE WAY HE SLAMS HIS LAPTOP SHUT BC HE’S ABSOLUTELY FURIOUS AND TERRIFIED AS HELL FROM SEEING HIS BOY GETTING TORTURED ON CAMERA FOR HIM.

YONGGUK SITTING ALONE PRAYING AND KISSING HIS CROSS WHILE IMAGES OF YOUNGJAE BLEEDING AND YOUNGJAE SMILING FLASHES BEFORE HIS EYES. AND GETS BACK UP AGAIN. BACK TO REALITY. BACK TO WORK TO GET HIM BACK.

YONGGUK ONCE AGAIN SITTING IN A PRAYING POSITION AFTER THE HEIST AND EVERYONE’S COUNTING THE MONEY AND HIMCHAN PUTTING A HAND ON HIS SHOULDER AS IF TO SAY “IT’S GONNA BE OKAY, WE’LL GET HIM BACK” AND YONGGUK NODS AND GETS UP. LEAVES THE ROOM. NEEDS TO BE ALONE. DAEHYUN LOOKING LIKE HE WANTS TO GO AFTER HIM AND MAKE SURE HE’S OKAY.

YONGGUK’S FUCKING FACE WHEN YOUNGJAE WALKS TOWARDS HIM. YOUNGJAE’S FUCKING FACE TOO, FOR THAT MATTER. FIRST TIME I SAW THIS SHIT I ALMOST THOUGHT THEY WERE GONNA KISS?? 

AND JUST LIKE YOU SAID: YONGGUK’S FUCKING REACTION TO YOUNGJAE FALLING DEAD ON HIS KNEES RIGHT IN FRONT OF HIM. ALL OUT WAR. REVENGE. WHO CARES. IF YOUNGJAE DIES, WE ALL DIE.

YONGGUK’S FUCKING FACE IN THE ALTERNATIVE ENDING’S FLASHBACK, WHEN HE FINDS YOUNGJAE PLANTING THE BUG ON HIS CLOTHES. HE HAS SO MUCH LOVE AND TRUST FOR THIS BOY.

THE FACT THAT THE ENDING SHOT IS OF YOUNGGUK BEING HELD BACK BY THE SWAT TEAM WATCHING YOUNGJAE WALK AWAY FROM HIM WITH A LOOK IN HIS EYES THAT IS NOT ANGER BUT HURT. TO THE LYRICS FROM COMA “PLEASE DON’T GO”. FUCK.

I KEEP ASKING. WHERE ARE ALL THE BANGJAE FICS??

prayer request sorta

Can you guys pray for me perhaps? I don’t know. I’m struggling in my faith. I’ve lost every bit of my fire and passion for God. I think of Him and there’s no instant response but slight disgust and unrest. There’s no feeling of peace. I feel empty towards Him and now I feel empty in my life. I’m kind of depressed and I feel so lost.

I have a strong feeling that He exists, and that the whole Biblical narrative is true, but I don’t want to accept it and believe it. I’m afraid, I suppose. And, feeling empty towards God, I don’t feel as if I particularly need to serve Him. I don’t love Him, so why serve Him? I don’t want to follow Him. But yet I feel that I should. I feel like He’s pulling at me, calling for me, but I don’t have the will or strong desire to give in.

I don’t know. I just… I need something to fuel my fire and my faith again. I’m like a dead woman walking.

I’ve killed myself 12 times in my head today and I wish at least 1 of them was real

LITTLE COMPLIMENTS FOR YOUR ASCENDANT
  • Aries: You always seem so full of life and vitality. It raises people's happiness instantly when you walk into the room.
  • Taurus: Having you around is brilliant - your voice is a grounding force and you're always good for a laugh.
  • Gemini: Wow. You have the best resting bitch face, the best smirk, the best laugh, and the best conversation topics.
  • Cancer: Being around you is relaxing because it seems like nothing can ever really go wrong when you're there to help.
  • Leo: Whenever you're there I can't take my eyes off you, it feels like wasting time when I'm not looking at you.
  • Virgo: You're easy to talk to because you seem so clever and polite, you never get boring and you never get bored.
  • Libra: Why does everyone deny that courtesy is actually great? Your manners are refreshing and you're drop-dead gorgeous.
  • Scorpio: You're so different to everyone else and the fact that you like it only makes us adore you even more.
  • Sagittarius: You are amazing at weird conversation starters and all your strange tiny talents make me laugh so hard.
  • Capricorn: People feel like they can do anything around you because you're so in control, we know nothing can go wrong.
  • Aquarius: No-one can beat your goofy jokes and you're so relaxing and un-judgemental, it's great to talk to you.
  • Pisces: You are so sweet and lovely, you have the cutest face and the dreamiest eyes. Your kindness is exemplary.

appynation  asked:

Prompt?: Lance comes down with an illness, and Keith is instructed to take care of him. At first, Lance is milking it for all it's worth, enjoying Keith having to do things for him and whatnot. But his condition quickly begins to worsen, and he really DOES need help, Keith just assumes he's faking it for more attention? I'm a sucker for the "don't believe them until it's too late" sickfic trope. :D

yeEESSSS yes

I’m drunk so don’t hate me if this sucks lol

“Keeeeith,” Lance whined, “I need you.” Keith rubbed a hand down his face. 

“I’m going to kill him,” Keith confided in Pidge and Hunk. “I’m going to lose my shit, and there’s going to be a white-hot flash of light, and Lance will be dead, and I will feel nothing.”

“Oh, go easy on him,” Hunk smirked. “He’s sick.”

“He’s got a cold!”

“A space cold,” Pidge corrected, “and he’s lonely. He misses his family.”

Keith sighed. “I know that. I just wish I weren’t the one in charge of babysitting, you know? I’m so… not good at it.”

“That’s what you get, Typhoid Mary,” Pidge teased. Keith had been sick last week with a nasty cold, and Lance had been the only paladin brave enough to risk getting sick himself to care for Keith. He’d had to admit that it was nice, at the time. Lance was a good care-taker, even if it sometimes got a bit overwhelming. He’d been freaked, Keith could tell, about what might happen with this unidentified space virus, checking Keith’s temperature every hour and forcing him to drink water and eat soup. The attention ranged from much-needed, when Keith was awake and miserable, to downright suffocating, when Keith was trying to sleep or relax.

“You were pretty whiny, too,” Hunk reminded him, “But Lance never complained about it.”

“You’re right; you’re always right,” Keith admitted, throwing his hands up in mock surrender. The red paladin steeled himself and entered Lance’s room.

“What do you need?” he asked. 

“Will you read to me?” Lance asked, looking suspiciously innocent.

“I’m out of here,” Keith decided, turning quickly on one heel.

“Wait,” Lance stopped him, “For real. I’ve got a really bad headache.”

“Go to sleep,” Keith suggested. He felt for his friend, he did. But there was no way in hell he’d read to him.

“It hurts too much,” he admitted. “My sisters always used to read to me, and it helped me relax enough to fall asleep.”

“It’s not going to happen, Lance.”

“Shiro said you were supposed to take care of me,” Lance definitely-did-not-whine.

“Yeah, he said I had to make sure you didn’t die. He said nothing about entertainment.”

Lance huffed, which turned into a fit of harsh coughing. “Fine. Can you grab me something for my head?”

“You just took it half an hour ago,” Keith said, feeling genuinely sympathetic now. “You can’t take anything more for another three and a half hours.”

Lance looked disappointed. “Oh, okay. Thanks anyway,” he muttered, rolling over in his bed to try to sleep. Keith turned his lights off on the way out.

Sitting down to the table once more, Keith let his body sag into the chair tiredly. 

“How did Lance manage to do this for a whole week? It’s only been two days and I’m tired,” Keith said.

“Lance really cares about you,” Shiro joined from the doorway, having overheard Keith’s complaints. 

“It’s not that I don’t care!”

“You wouldn’t even read to him,” Hunk argued. “Not even a little. He’s in there, in pain, unable to sleep, and you wouldn’t read him a story. He didn’t even ask you to do funny voices.”

“You know that he would have,” Keith fought weakly, but he knew that Hunk was right. He wasn’t as good a friend as Lance.

“Lance is just a natural caretaker,” Shiro offered. “That’s why he’s so sick now–he ran himself ragged looking after you, Keith. You complained that he woke you up every hour to check your fever, but have you considered that means he was up every hour, too?”

“And at least you were sleeping during the day,” Pidge added. “Lance still had to do paladin training.”

Keith was stunned silent.

And he wouldn’t even read to the kid.

Shit.

Keith stood again and walked back into Lance’s room.

“Hey, Lance?” he tried softly from the doorway.

“Go ‘way,” Lance muttered. He was shivering violently enough that Keith could see it from the door. 

“I’ll read to you, if you still want me to,” Keith offered. He had to physically lock his knees to prevent himself from sprinting away from how much he did not want to do this.

“No,” said the lump of covers that was the blue paladin. “Just leave me alone.”

“Come on, don’t be like that,” Keith tried.

“M’serious,” Lance insisted, “Fuck off, Keith.” 

Keith bristled at the language. 

“Look, I know you don’t feel well, but you’re being a baby,” Keith accused, stepping inside the room. “I’m trying my best.” He reached out and turned on a table lamp. Lance jerked away from even the dim light source, burying his face in the covers.

“Lance?” Keith called softly, uncertainly. 

“Turnitoffturnitoffturnitoff,” Lance pleaded, and Keith did so faster than he’d ever done anything in his life. His heart was pounding. 

“What’s the matter, Lance?”

“Head,” was seemingly all he could manage. 

Keith leaned in close to feel Lance’s forehead with his hand, and cursed at the blistering heat and uncomfortable dryness of his skin. Why hadn’t he made sure Lance was drinking water, as Lance had done for him while he was sick?

But Keith hadn’t been this sick. Like Shiro had said, Lance had run himself into the ground trying to take care of both Keith and all his normal paladin duties, and this was the result–he’d crashed and now he was burning.

“I’m gonna get Shiro,” Keith promised. Lance was shivering desperately still, teeth chattering. He didn’t reply.

“Shiro,” Keith cried breathlessly, sprinting into the common room. “He’s really sick.”

“What do you mean?” Pidge asked. “It’s just a cold; you had it, too.”

“I don’t know what happened to him,” Keith admitted, a pinkish tinge of panic coloring his voice. “His fever’s through the roof and I don’t know what to do.”

Shiro and the others followed Keith to Lance’s room, quarantine be damned. Lance wasn’t in his bed. 

“Where did he go?” Hunk asked to no one in particular.

“He’s in no condition to be wandering around,” Keith said. 

“If his fever’s as high as you say it is, he might be hallucinating,” Shiro deduced. “Split up. Call the rest of us on the comms if you find him.” 

Everyone took off in different directions in search of the blue paladin.

“He’s not in his lion,” Pidge supplied. “She seems really agitated.”

“She’s probably freaking out just as much as we are,” Hunk said. “He’s not in the kitchen.”

“Lance?” Shiro called. Where the hell had he hidden? “Come on out, buddy, we want to help you.”

“Guys, I’ve got him,” Keith finally announced. “He’s under my goddamn bed.” Lance was indeed sprawled halfway under Keith’s bed, looking like he’d passed out where he stood.

“What?” came a chorus of concerned voices.

“What’s he doing in there?” Shiro asked.

“He had a headache,” Keith said. “He asked me to give him something for it, but it was too early. The light hurt his eyes when I came into his room. I think he came in here because it’s dark and quiet.”

“Why yours?” Hunk asked.

“Lance?” Keith tried. “Lance, buddy, what are you doing out here?”

“Gotta check Keith’s fever,” Lace replied, a slurred, worrisome mess.

“I’m right here, remember?” Keith asked. “I’m all better now. You took good care of me.”

“I did?” Lance asked, blinking owlishly at the red paladin. He seemed barely able to keep his eyes open.

“Yeah, you did.”

Lance pressed the palms of his hands hard into his closed eyes, looking pitiful and pained. “My head hurts,” he admitted.

“I know, bud,” Keith soothed. “You’ve got a fever. I’m gonna take care of you now.”

Never, Never

“You just gonna stare at me all night?” In the midnight quiet of Monmouth Manufacturing, Ronan’s voice is heinously loud. Curled into a tight ball at the end of his bed, Noah just sighs. He’s looking more and more dead these days.

Noah.” It’s half a command.

“Probably.” Noah doesn’t even have the grace to sound apologetic. It’s not surprising.

Pushing up onto his elbows, Ronan asks, his voice still rough with sleep, “How long you been there?” In the corner of the room, Chainsaw flutters her wings.

Noah ignores her, shrugging as best he can. “Couple hours, I think.”

Ronan shivers, though whether it’s from the chill of Noah’s presence or the strange tonelessness of Noah’s voice, he isn’t sure. Noah is approaching his end, Ronan is sure of it.

“Ronan?”

When Ronan glances up again, his eyes still sleep fogged, Noah is mere inches away, his eyes wide and curious.

“What are you thinking about?” Noah’s voice is wispy, nearly drowned out by a night breeze just outside, in the rustle of Chainsaw’s wings and the rustle of the sheets as he straddles Ronan’s hips. There’s nothing sensual about the closeness, really. The dead seem to often crave contact, and it’s chilling in every sense of the word.

The dead.

When had Ronan started considering Noah one of the dead?

“You’re fading,” is all the answer Ronan gives, and Noah gives him a sad smile in return. It’s inevitable, really. That, of course, makes it no less painful.

I’m dead.” The sorrowful little smile doesn’t fade, and Noah leans closer, pressing his cheek to Ronan’s bare chest and murmuring, “What’s it feel like to have a heartbeat?”

Carefully, holding his silence, Ronan lifts one hand, settling it upon the small of Noah’s back. The touch sends chills up his spine.

Looking rather shy, Noah pulls back, glancing up through his eyelashes to catch Ronan’s gaze. He can only hold it for a few seconds before he’s hiding his face against Ronan’s neck, Ronan’s calloused fingers in his hair and on his back, Ronan’s chapped lips at the telling smudge over his cheek. Noah’s voice is soft when he murmurs against Ronan’s skin, “Will you forget me?”

“Never.”

“Do you promise?”

The hand Ronan has tangled into the chilled fabric of Noah’s ever-present Aglionby sweater tightens. Lips brushing Noah’s ear, he replies with a question of his own: “Have I ever lied to you?”

And then Noah is smiling, cuddling closer and breathing against Ronan’s stubbled cheek, “Never.”

anonymous asked:

Honestly you seem like a very sweet person so I hope you can help me cope with my EDF (extremely depressive fictophilia) of Anakin/Vader. Everytime I think of him, I feel so bad that he doesn't care for himself, hasn't felt love in so long, has been treated so horribly by everyone... It doesn't help that I'm hopelessly in love with this guy. Ever since Conversations came out, I've been depressed because of Anakin feels alone. Help me Kae, you're my only hope.

I’m so very sorry about how long this took. It was the end of the semester, crazy with finals and getting things sorted for graduation.

This is set in my “Vader lives” AU that I started with the three sentence fics. Basically, ROTJ plays out like canon, except Luke gets his father to the Alliance in time to save his life.


Palpatine had been dead for two years. Two years today, in fact, Luke remembered shortly after he had woken up and saw the date on his bedroom’s chrono. Two years since the confrontation on the second Death Star, since the Emperor’s lightning had licked across his body and left pale scars that were visible even now, since he had dragged his redeemed father to the Alliance and demanded that they save his life. Two years since the declaration of the New Republic and his father’s second rebirth, this time as informant and military advisor to Chancellor Mothma. That had taken some convincing, and there were still many people unhappy about it, but Mothma had remembered Anakin, and it had allowed for a peace agreement to be struck with the Imperial remnant. He was too valuable to destroy, especially when Luke had thrown his fate in with his father’s. Anakin hadn’t exactly been pleased about that, but Luke knew that gamble had gone a long way towards saving his father’s life. No one was willing to kill or imprison or exile the Hero of Yavin and the last Jedi just to get rid of Vader.

Luke slipped out of his room and walked across the small apartment he shared with his father, heading for the kitchen. They could have easily afforded something larger, even considering that Anakin had donated a significant portion of his fortune to helping the New Republic get set up, as yet another sign of his goodwill. But neither Anakin nor Luke was used to extravagance, and their apartment was cozy and nice, and it meant they were constantly within seconds of each other. Just in case.

Anakin was already in the kitchen, making breakfast, standing with his back to Luke as he attended whatever was on the stove. He was always awake earlier than Luke, no matter when Luke got up, and he supposed Anakin still hadn’t gotten used to sleeping a normal amount of hours in a night. And they both still had nightmares, though the intensity and frequency seemed to be decreasing, if gradually.

“Good morning, Father,” Luke said, as he walked in. There was a mug of hot chocolate sitting in front of his place at the table, wisps of steam rising from it, and Luke grinned. He walked past it though, and ducked under his father’s arm, giving him a quick hug.

Anakin pulled him closer. “Good morning, Luke.” His voice was still quiet and raspy, the medics hadn’t been able to do anything about the damaged vocal cords, but between getting him proper medical care and Luke’s limited knowledge of Force healing, they’d been able to fix his lungs so he no longer needed to depend on life support. Luke knew that was a huge relief for his father, who was finally free of the mask and suit that Palpatine had put him in 23 years before. And Luke was glad to be able to actually see his father’s face. The scarring hadn’t healed much; there wasn’t a lot the medics had been able to do, but Luke didn’t care. The brief moment of horror he had felt when he first saw Anakin’s face had been at the thought of the pain the injuries must have caused, not at the sight of him. His acceptance of his father’s appearance helped Anakin be less self-conscious about it.

“One of these days, you will have to let me do the cooking, Father,” Luke said, knowing full well that even if his father agreed now, he would never actually let him.

“Maybe tomorrow,” his father said. Luke nudged him with his elbow and slipped out from under his arm. He walked back to the table and picked up his mug. It was still pleasantly warm, and he took a tentative sip. It didn’t scald his tongue, but it wasn’t too cold either. Perfect.

His father turned the stove off and carried their breakfast plates over to the table. They ate in comfortable silence, and once they had finished, Luke’s hand drifted down to his pocket.

“I, um, have something for you,” he said, not quite looking at his father. He pulled the two tickets out of his pocket and held them below the table. “I thought, it’s been two years, and we could use a break from the whole rebuilding-the-Galaxy thing and celebrate. I don’t know your birthday, but today’s as good a day as any, right?” Now he looked up to see his father staring at him curiously. Luke took a breath and held the tickets up, speaking quickly. “They’re running an annual race to commemorate the birth of the New Republic and fall of the Empire, and I thought you might enjoy going… with… me… What?”

Anakin was biting his lip, trying not to laugh, but his blue eyes were sparkling with embarrassed amusement. He raised his own gloved hand, holding two identical tickets. Luke groaned and dropped his head to the table just as his father lost control and started laughing.


Okay, so I can’t write pure fluff. A bit of angst always worms its way in, but I tried to make it cute and happy for you.

Love Is All You Need

Daryl Dixon Imagine

First one of a bunch of rather short stories

Request: I was wondering if you could do an imagine where the reader and Daryl are best friends and are basically brother and sister and she always tells him she loves him because she wants him to know he deserves love? I guess it’s a little vague but it popped into my head today and I thought it would be cute. You can add whatever you want

word count: 781


I was lying on the bed in Daryl’s cell room yawning deeply. It was getting late and I could see that Daryl was dozing off every now and then. He was trying his best to keep awake for me and listen, but as I hadn’t said a word in a while I couldn’t really blame him. I should’ve gone to my room anyway, get some sleep but for some reason I couldn’t bring myself to leave.
“I should go.” I sighed sitting up. Daryl needed to get some sleep, he was supposed to be out on a run tomorrow and I would never in my life forgive myself if something was to happen to him because of me keeping him awake.
“Ya don’t’ve to”, Daryl said yawning. “Ya can sleep here.”

Keep reading

anonymous asked:

Hey can you give me tips or something? I hate myself. I want to die and I wish I was dead. Everything seems so pointless. I don't want to do anything anymore. I lost motivation and energy. Talking to a doctor therapist or counselor won't help. I tried the suicide hotline, I'm really tired of everything and I just want to end it. I'm sick of people and sick of my body and my life. Everything seems disgusting, I can't help to care about the people in my life. My hobbies seem shit.

       First of all. I’ve been there. I had the same feeling of “the light at the end of a tunnel is a train”. I thought I would never get better. But I refused to give up. I kept on fighting. The thing is to cling on the last drop of hope left. Believe me. Life got brighter. At some point I had some amazing time and I remembered how much I had used to hate my life. And I felt glad I hadn’t ended it. Remember : your best days are yet to happen. There is so much more about life that waits ahead. Try and look forward to future with optimism. I heard that in 2017 some amazing movies would be released, and I bet you’ll love some of them. What about autumn leaves? 

      Second of all Your hobbies are not shit. If they make you feel valid , then they are just right.

      Third of all You’re allowed to get sick of everyone from time to time. Humans can be some horrible beings sometimes. You must remember though that no one is perfect , and just as you deserve affection so do the ones around you. In my case , it was the right people that got me back on track. I forced myself to go out. Crying alone at home does not always help. Or it stops having effects at some point. You know what is really effective? Laughter. Do you know a friend that says shitty jokes? What about hanging out with them. What is your favourite comedy show?

       Fourth of all The human body is basically a shell for the soul. Looks fade. I’ve met some people with bright smiles and they didn’t have “cover magazine” figures. I myself have freckles. Always hated them. But alot of other people consider them special and beautiful. You see , when we look in the mirror what we see is an actually distorted image. Strangers notice so many positive features that we often forget about. Your imperfections are what makes you unique. Stop beating yourself up for being “different”. And finally Take care of yourself. You are loved. You are worthy. Warm hug

 - M💕

Cold, cold, it was so cold. The feeling didn’t leave her skin yet, even though she had washed several times. Her hands were still shaking. The marks of the bloodstains wasn’t on her clothes anymore, she was miles and miles away from that place.

“Why do I care so much?” she thought, alone on her bed. The blankets didn’t seem to warm her body. It was just one person… the first one. She killed him. Higuchi didn’t even know his name, and she never would.

“It’s okay, Higuchi. You knew it since you first joined the Port Mafia. You can’t stay at the Mafia without killing. The guy was an enemy. He was a traitor. You don’t need to feel guilty. You knew it would happen eventually. I knew it…”

Her wheezing breath was the only thing she could hear at her bedroom. The silent and calm dawn was incompatible with her sleepless and anxious brain, which seemed to be taking her down every single second. To be remembering those scenes all the time. The sounds, the screams, her finger on the trigger, her gun against his head. The blood on her clothing and skin… and then a warmth feeling touched her face. She was crying. The girl was trying to not shed any tears, the one who died didn’t deserve her tears. Never. Feeling the weakest of all, Higuchi allowed herself to cry a little. Maybe all this wasn’t for her. Or… maybe she could improve herself to become better and better at her job. She suddenly sat up in her bed, determined.

"That’s it. I will train more, I will try harder. I’m going to get used to this sort of thing. I just need time. It’s my job. I can do it. Can’t I?”

She let her body fall on the bed again. Wiped away the few tears with the blanket. Trying to calm down, she closed her eyes while playing with a lock of her short blond hair, the images still clear in her mind. Her heart was still beating fast. Higuchi suddenly realized how difficult it could be. Would require a lot of time and effort. She would have to be strong, she would be strong. But she still had no help. She was always on her own, needing to work and take care of her sister. Feeling more alone than ever, she felt another tear trickle down. Was she allowed to cry? It had been her choice, right? Shrinking in bed, she sighed.

“Why it must be so hard?”

Heathers the Musical: The Summary
  • Beautiful: High school sucks. Oh look I'm popular, maybe this isn't so bad.
  • Candy Store: Dump Martha, she's a baby. Let's actually do stuff that's not watching Sesame Street.
  • Holy Shit!/Fight for Me: Daaaaamn this trench coat kid can fight, how bout you date me?
  • Candy Store (Reprise): More singing.
  • Freeze Your Brain: I come to 7/11 to escape my troubles.
  • Big Fun: Parents are away, so we'll get drunk and make fun of Martha. Pig Piñata.
  • Dead Girl Walking: The Heathers threw me out of their group, lemme get in your pants.
  • Veronica's Chandler Nightmare: Good morning slut. I'm gonna tell everyone you slept with trench coat kid. 3-D glasses.
  • Pain in My Path: Lol Heather died. She died because she was having her period.
  • The Me Inside of Me: Chandler died. Let's get out of school early. No one thinks a pretty girl has feelings.
  • Blue: Friends help friends get raped.
  • Blue (Reprise): We didn't actually have sex with you, but we'll spread rumors that we did anyway. Sword-Fighting.
  • Blue Reprise Playoff (Freak! Slut!): Blue Reprise Reprise. Name calling. JD punches Ram.
  • Our Love is God: I love you, so I'm gonna kill Kurt and Ram for spreading rumors about you. Ich Luge Bullets.
  • Prom or Hell?: My teen angst bullshit has a body count.
  • My Dead Gay Son: Kurt and Ram killed themselves because they were gay. Guess what? We're gay too!
  • Seventeen: Let's stop killing people JD. Kissing.
  • Fight for Me (Reprise): JD is gonna hurt more people if he doesn't stop. Song that should have been in the show but wasn't.
  • Shine a Light: What the fuck is wrong with you Ms. Fleming? TV Cameras.
  • Lifeboat: Surpise! McNamara is a cinnamon roll.
  • Shine a Light (Reprise): lol go kill yourself McNamara.
  • Cheerleader Transition: Foreshadowing Dead Girl Walking (Reprise).
  • Kindergarten Boyfriend: My crush died and my best friend abandoned me. Very sad.
  • Yo Girl: Veronica is going to hell.
  • Meant to Be Yours: I was gonna kill you, but let's blow up the school instead.
  • Dead Girl Walking (Reprise): Veronica didn't kill herself and she tries to stop JD from blowing up the school.
  • I am Damaged: I love you Veronica. *audience crying*
  • Seventeen (Reprise): Okay let's stop doing stupid stuff and just be seventeen. Red scrunchie.

so I was playing around with autocorrect and 

things Jay has probably said at some point (whether he was high on pixie stix or not at the time is irrelevant)

-are you okay with bloodstains?
-I’m dying of feathers and bugs
-This guy is generally considered a dragon
-is this angry dump a dead man?
-I’m tired of people and baggy jeans okay
-Jay is too alcoholic.
-why does a feather get congressional approval but I can’t feel safe because I’m in constant fear for my life?
-I can always cling to my knees and burn the weeds
-mermaids are evils of the Caribbean
-we are civilized and equal bugs
-I opened the door and entered hell
-help me I can’t afford the morning
-okay so what makes people believe that basically everything is falling
-why does a barnyard full of feathers and mermaids smell like something wrong
-I’m not scared of people, I’m just saying that basically everyone is out of their minds
-please tell me if I’m wrong but doesn’t a dwarf have friends
-Kai can’t convince them that he’s blind in the dark because he doesn’t have an eye
-this is flat-out nonsense

Some Random RP Starters
  • " Can I help you? "
  • " What are you...? "
  • " HELP! SOMEONE! "
  • " What is that? "
  • " You're not thinking of eating that entire thing, right? "
  • " I've heard a lot about you. "
  • " Is anyone in here? "
  • " What the hell do you think you're doing? "
  • " Sometimes I wish I could just disappear. "
  • " It's going to be okay. I'm not letting you die. "
  • " I feel so alone. "
  • " I'm a freak. "
  • " You're a freak. "
  • " Is there any way you'll ever forgive me? "
  • " Oh my god, I'm your biggest fan! "
  • " Is it really you? "
  • " Am I dead? "
  • " Where am I? Who are you? What's going on? "
  • " I'm stuck! "
  • " Is that your dog? "
  • " I'm not sure what to think about this. "
  • " I don't want to be here anymore. "
  • " No one understands me. "
  • " It's not a phase, mom. "
  • " What did you just say about me?! "
  • " Are you really them? "
  • " I don't love you. "
  • " I care about you, you know. "
  • " Why do you do this to yourself? "