Ok But Why Can My Brain Ever Do What I Want It To Do?? Like I Have To Fucking Trick It Into Thinking

Ok but why can my brain ever do what I want it to do?? Like I have to fucking trick it into thinking about my story by acting like I don’t want to think about my story.

Like I’m at work and all it wants to do is distract me with new scenes and then at home it’s like “I’ve got nothing, sorry”

This is my amazing gf btw, check out their account their writing is so beautiful! anyway yeah go look at their cool stuff :)

I miss my body.

I miss my tail, my paws, the way I was never alone in the woods, but  never surrounded.

There were no walls that trapped me, Oh, how I miss my body,but I'm stuck with this one now.

For once I walked on four with my squishy paws, now I'm stuck on two, surrounded by these walls. as I lay awake at night, longing for my paws. 

I'll know somewhere that part of me that used to have those paws will be sitting somewhere quietly longing for my claws.

So, yes, I miss my body, but I'm stuck with this one now. And I try to remember all the lovely things I can do without my paws.

whumpee can't even tell if whumper has drugged them or if the constant, intense torture has just pushed their mind too far that nothing seems real.

they hear screams that they can only assume are theirs. they see blood, too much blood. their body is wracked with sensations, but they're too detatched to process it as pain. or as their own.

and when a flood of strangers enter the room, with noise and lights, and lift whumpee's broken body onto a stretcher, whumpee assumes that it has to be a hallucination their dying mind created.

Whumpee: I can put up with all these other terrible symptoms as long as I don't have to deal with [insert most miserable symptom here]

Whumpee the next day, now experiencing [most miserable symptom] at full force: Well, shoot

Lol these were my notes for my 2nd book. It was three am.

Somehow being hurt/blood makes it safer?

Maybe opposite tho… like u CANNOT FUCKING BLEED (wouldn’t that be spooky)

The endlist snatches up the government

Maybe things change when yaz dies and someone else in charge so things get worse

Driving in a truck, Frankie is speeding, blaire asking them to slow down, Tara just kinda enjoying herself, Frankie promising they would never let anything happen to her, they KISS HER HAND omg

Abandoned buildings

Stealing Raman from abandon gas station

Bit of idk ya know

Wait wtf did I mean by the above??

Someone dies?

New character/love interest for Tara

Does Tara work well with a love interest??

Walls?

Creatures? Like ppl have disease? Idk r we just running from like humans or is it deeper

Blood (sorry I think it’s hot)

Blood in hot way/in like I’m dying way

VAMPIRISM

^probs not tbh^

Wait but NOSEBLEEDS THO

Wanted to share a short scene from my WIP, please do not use!!

“How can you do this to me?” They scream, blood dripping from their lips.

“Because I want something.” She says calmly, her hands toying with the knife in her hand, as though they're not dying at her feet. “And you are going to help me get that. Imagine, you and I, the Endlist has taken control of everything. We are on top of the world, darling. I want you to work with me, that’s all I want.”

“I don’t want to hurt anymore.” They say, it feels like surrender, it feels like failure, they tried to be a good person, they tried to do what a hero would do, save the world and shit.

“It’s a win win, Frankie, we both get what we want.”

“You’ll leave Blaire alone?” They ask, quietly.

“If we have you, there’s no need for her.”

“And you never fucking touch me again?” They are so tired, the end is here. It’s over.

“Of course,” she laughs.

Frankie stares into her shallow, dark eyes, something they do have in common. They try to make excuses to themself, I would have died if it continued like this. I can’t take it anymore, I might be sacrificing the world but I just can’t take it.

Does that make them selfish?

Or does it mean they're human? Just trying to survive.

We are selfish animals, we only truly care about ourselves, and in that moment that’s all they could think about. They are not any different, they are only human.

“Fine.” They breathe. Yaz’s eyes light up with delight.

“Perfect.” She sighs, relief in her eyes. “May I remind you of the many times you said you would never help me?”

“It’s funny what pain can do to you,” they say, repeating what she once said to them, their hands shaking. She smiles, a look of approval on her face.

She also said that she would break them, they had told her it was impossible, but here they are, completely fucking broken.