MONACHOPSIS *:･ﾟ✧ writing dump

[finny.]

BITCH
FUCK YOU
YOU SAID YOU WOULDNT

[marsy]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯

[finny.]

YEAH
THATS ALL YOU CAN DO?
SHRUG?
LITTLE SHIT
I TRUSTED YOU

[marsy]

¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯  ¯\_(ツ)_/¯
you should never trust me, hon

[marsy]

[align=center][div style="width: 450px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 1.3;"]yep, pretty self-explanatory. just gonna,,, write some stuff and store it here. just,,, anything and everything, lmao. trigger warnings will definitely be provided as needed~ read at your own discretion—i'm a little rusty, lmao.

[marsy]

[div style="width: 350px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8pt; line-height: 105%; color: #636363;"]a writing featuring jackie and yachel. trigger warning for death, blood, violence/murder, suicidal thoughts, and suicide attempt.

the air was chilly, the breeze only chilling it more. the sky was cloudy and a shade of dull blue; hardly blue at all—it looked as if it were about to rain, which had probably been the forecast on the news. he didn't watch the news; never thought about it, and especially not now. the gloomy day matched the gloomy aura.

the polished, dark wooden casket was being lowered into the six foot deep, two inch wide hole in the ground. a tombstone was already place at the head of it, reading "YACHEL ORION BAILAR
THE BEST PEOPLE ARE ALWAYS TAKEN TOO EARLY"
and, of course, his birthdate and the current year. he was so young—he was too young to have his life stolen from him; and it was a horrible way he went. a gang of men twice or even thrice yachels' size in muscle and too stupid to realize how much strength they had over the boy.

a dark-haired boy standing close, breathing, trembling, holding back tears, muttered incoherent curses. his face was twisted in a painful, furious expression, ears and nose and cheeks red from the biting chilly air and added breeze. his shoulders were tense and his hands were in fists in his jacket's pockets. he wasn't thinking about how cold it was, or about the other people standing around with tissues and tears and quiet sobs and melancholy faces. he was thinking about yachel—how his beautiful caramel skin had been drained of color, the only color left being the dark, large bruises, and the cuts; and how his lively brown eyes had been dull and cloudy; and how his warmth had turned completely cold. he was thinking about the people who'd done this to his best friend; the only person he'd had left; a beautiful, kindhearted person with a heart of gold, who didn't deserve at all what had come to him. if anyone should have been beaten to death, it should have been the dark-haired boy—jackie.

jackie went home before the casket was even fully in the grave. someone tried to stop him, but he harshly pushed through and briskly made his way to yachel's apartment. it was a twenty minute walk, but jackie had plenty to think about to shorten the time.

[align=center]—————

he hadn't gotten out of bed for five days, except to use the bathroom, and to roughly scrub at himself in the shower each day; sometimes twice a day, so he could just sit in the tub while the water sprayed down on him, shielding the tears he couldn't quite hold in any longer.

he wanted to die. he came close to grabbing the razor taped underneath the sink in the bathroom the other day, but he heard yachel's voice telling him to stop—what are you doing, jackie? jackie, i love you. jackie, you're so amazing. jackie, don't do this, please. if not for yourself, for me—so he decided to wait a little while longer; and decided that was too messy.

[i]this is a wip but i already hate myself for it pls throw a brick @ me

[sultan]

ok so idk if i'm supposed to track but wtf??? w hat the fuck. throws a brick at you

[phantomatics]

ok so idk if i'm supposed to track but wtf??? w hat the fuck. throws a brick at you

[marsy]

[align=center][img height=120]https://68.media.tumblr.com/f60a58b3c4a5ec4a68936738589ef983/tumblr_nfyw7lhTck1rob81ao7_r1_250.gif[/img][img height=120]https://68.media.tumblr.com/3e4c52047f8bbdc2d254253a22bd620c/tumblr_ng0vunZCTO1ti26j4o1_250.gif[/img]
[div style="width: 436px; text-align: justify; font-family: helvetica; font-size: 8.8pt; line-height: 13px; color: #636363; margin-top: 10px;"]
that's the thing about him: no matter how hard he falls, he always gets right back up again—and he doesn't do it for himself, no; he does it for the sake of others. he cares too much, and that's his best characteristic, and his fatal flaw.

baby alexis willis. he's more than broken—he's shattered and unable to be built up again the same way as he was before. there will always be those little cracks and blemishes, like forever scars. he's quiet and he's cold; refuses to let anyone in. he's sassy and aggravating, and blunt and, sometimes, abrasive. he doesn't seem to care about anyone or anything, and not even himself—apathy has struck him down and has burned a hole through his heart.

baby alexis willis. he's talented and he's loyal. he can sing and dance and tell believable lies. he would take a bullet for any single one of his friends, who he considers his family. he can paint a picture worth a thousand words, and write a poem that brings detailed imagery. he puts his loved one's in front of himself, always, no matter what. when he loves, he loves with all of his heart; his big, shattered-a-million-times and pieced-back-together-a-million-times heart.

baby alexis willis. the misjudged—the lover, the fighter, the lionheart; the artist and the brainiac; the worrier, the broken, the self-loathing; the small boy in the corner, crying, weak but strong.

[marsy]

[align=center][table]