#But life goes on I suppose. I need to be strong. I can't afford to break down again

[cerise-on-top]

Cried on the train today, then thought of this! This is just me coping to the highest degree again, but I thought other people might like this as well!

Nikolai as a Father

First off, he’d likely be absent rather often. He was a soldier, he runs a PMC, he’s a busy man through and through. That’s why he won’t be able to see you as often as he’d like. He’d have loved to see all your accomplishments, meeting your first partner and intimidating them, your graduation, the first time you performed on stage, but it wasn’t possible due to work. He does feel bad about it, but he can’t help it. He will try to make it up to you somehow, though he’d understand if you couldn’t forgive him. He does try to be there for you whenever he can, visiting you whenever possible, but you will be apart from each other more often than not. However, if you ever have any suggestions regarding what you’d like to do together, he’s all ears. He has enough money to grant you any wish like that. You wanna go to Japan? You want a boat trip? You wanna go karaoke? It’s all possible, as long as he gets to experience those things with you. He really does wanna make up for the lost time.

He’s a pretty relaxed kind of father. The kind that would allow you a sip of beer when you were young. He’d have no problems with you drinking, as long as it doesn’t get out of hand. You should be responsible about that sort of thing. But if you ever wanted to invite a friend over to drink a bit, then he’d have no problem with getting the booze for you. Nothing too strong while you’re still young, of course, but he gets it. You’re young, you want to be stupid and do foolish things. He was like that too when he was younger, so he won’t stop you. In fact, he’ll even drive to the nearest fast food restaurant and get you and your friend something to eat. Sometimes he might cook himself, though. Nikolai’s food is downright godly, he can cook just about anything and cook it well too. As long as you don’t invite a friend over to get blackout drunk every weekend, all is good.

I think he’d probably lie to you about his job when you’re younger. You don’t need to know that he kills people for a living. You can know that he does paperwork, though. So he’d likely tell you he works an office job that has him traveling a lot. Speaking of traveling, he’ll always bring you a souvenir. That could range from a small snow globe to a nice T-shirt he found that you might like. He may be busy, but he does think about you very often. This continues into adulthood as well. If he can’t see you and give it to you in person then he’ll just mail it to you. Won’t ever allow you to work in the same field he does, though. You’re too sweet to work as a mercenary. You can become anything you want to be, but he’ll do what he can to not have you work in the military or in a PMC. He wants you to live and live well. There are no exceptions to this. He knows you might not listen to him, but he’ll tell you over and over again that those kinds of jobs are not what you might think they are. He doesn’t tell you what to do very often, but you should listen to him when he does. He’s an older man, who actually knows what he’s talking about. Besides, he only means well when it comes to you.

A very accepting father, in all honesty. You’re gay? You’re trans? He’s very supportive of you. Besides, it doesn’t matter who you bring home, he’s gonna try to intimidate them either way. Only the best of the best for you. If you ever find yourself some sleazebag, who won’t spoil you rotten like you deserve, then he’ll make sure that person will learn their lesson. He can be a very scary man when he wants to be. If you’re transmasc, then he’d delight in going clothes shopping with you and finding something that you look good in and that fits. He might even buy you a bomber jacket like he has so you can match. He’ll get you the fanciest suits too. Whatever you need, he’ll give it to you. If you’re transfem then he might not be the best suited candidate to go shopping with you. He can tell you what you look good in, but he might call someone like Laswell to help you find nice clothes that suit you well. However, he won’t save any money on anything. You know what you want? You can gladly have it. Nikolai will even pay for your surgeries as well. As long as you’re happy, he’s happy. No price is too high when it comes to your happiness. In fact, he probably has the means to get you a prescription for hormones as well. It might not be entirely legal, but it’s better than nothing if you have shitty doctors.

Likewise, if you come out to him as aromantic or asexual, he won’t mind. Sure, you might have to explain what that means, but once he understands he won’t make you feel bad for that sort of thing. Gives you a side hug and tells you that he’s glad he doesn’t have to worry about your heart being broken by some asshole who can’t appreciate you for who you are. Unfortunately, if you do come out to him as ace, he might make some puns about it. Nothing offensive, but he’s your father, he can’t help the urge to make awful dad jokes from time to time.

If you don’t know Russian then he’ll teach you. He’s a proud Russian, so he does want you to know the language. He can hire a teacher for you too, if you’d prefer that, but you won’t be spared. He’ll talk to you in Russian and compliment you on your progress. Besides, it’s never a mistake to know another language. If you do know Russian then he’ll speak it with you whenever he can. Yes, even when the likes of Price are around. Doesn’t matter if it comes off as rude, it just feels homey to him. It makes him feel at ease.

[pharawee]

I think it's no secret that I'm not all that much into gmmtv BLs. I used to think that it's because I'm just not that into the romance/slice-of-life/ensemble cast genre and it's pretty much all gmmtv focusses on in their BLs. Or maybe I'm really that shallow and I just don't like anything mainstream.

I can't really talk myself out of the mainstream thing because it's unfortunately kind of true, but also I like plenty of romance/slice-of-life/ensemble cast shows by smaller companies, like Gen Y or Future or Our Days (the list goes on and on and on).

There's just something about gmmtv BLs these days that loses me every single time. A series starts out strong with an interesting concept and characters and then it just gets... boring to me:

The things and characters and issues I find interesting are never delved into, and (probably because of that) everything just feels so shallow and formulaic and palatable. Shows like Never Let Me Go and Be My Favorite and My School President completely underwhelmed me towards the end, to the point where I was relieved when they ended and I no longer had to gif them (which is an entirely different thing that I'm trying to work on 🙏).

And now the same thing is happening with Wandee Goodday and it makes me really sad because I really like Great and Inn and the rest of the cast.

Mind you, I'm not blaming gmmtv for this. They're mainstream for a reason and good for them! I'm also not saying that their approach to making series or marketing their actors is bad because clearly their success and their many fans prove them right.

But there's just something about how smaller or indie companies work that appeals to me so much more. I like shoestring budgets, I like it messy and rough around the edges. I like it when they're so passionate and ambitious about their projects that they try to make it happen no matter what. I like it when they take risks with genres and stories that bigger companies wouldn't touch because they're not as marketable. I like when they say "fuck it, let's do wonky sound and rookie actors because if we don't we won't have the budget to make it happen at all."

I suppose it's similar to gaming for me, where I appreciate indie games and ambitious AA titles much, much more than AAA games that tend to appeal to the biggest possible audience.

Ultimately, I'm glad there's a market for both, but it's sad to know that many smaller productions will never be as commercially well-received as mainstream titles (while ironically being held to the same standards). And it's also bittersweet to know that whenever gmmtv contracts one of my favourite actors (which is fine of course - it's one of the best things that can happen to an upcoming actor in Thailand), I know that I won't get to see them again in the kind of series that I prefer.*

*Sometimes they contract them out to non-gmmtv productions. That's how I became a fan of Marc Natarit. But as soon as they're in a fixed acting pair it's basically over.

I guess the easiest solution is to just stop watching BLs from gmmtv (I'm explicitly only mentioning BLs here because I like most of their gen shows a lot more - The Gifted is still one of my favourites and just recently Enigma and Midnight Museum and Mama Gogo were absolutely amazing) but the problem is... their pilot trailers actually get me excited. Right now I'm really looking forward to Kidnap and ThamePo. Plus, once in a while gmmtv DOES take a risk and then you get incredible shows like Not Me (which apparently didn't do very well numbers-wise, so from a business pov it makes sense not to invest in them too heavily).

In the end, I think I need to get a lot more selective with the Thai BLs I want to watch. After all, there's now so many of them that we can finally afford to be picky (and that has to be a good thing, right?).

[jennay]

Honey Bee

Jolly Master List

PART ONE/PART TWO/

You feel your throat tighten, a knot forming as you hold your phone to your ear. You feel your chest constrict, your breaths becoming shallow and ragged. You feel your eyes well up, your vision blurring. You feel your mind racing, your thoughts spinning out of control. The amount of anxiety you felt today was enough to make you leave.

Noah will know how to help you and make you feel better. He gives you honest and practical advice without judging or blaming you. He'll support you, tell you you're not alone, and always be there for you.

You hate that you feel this way, out of place. What a change from yesterday when you fully felt you were where you were supposed to be. You hoped for a different outcome, but now you knew how Jolly felt and were thankful for it, but you also felt shattered. Why couldn't life be kind for just once and let you have what you wanted?

You hear Noah's voice on the other end, but it's not the friendly greeting you hoped for. "It's only been three days, Y/n. Why are you calling me? Shouldn't you be focusing on lover boy?" He jokes. "You must be calling to thank me, right?"

You sigh and roll your eyes at his sarcasm. "Noah, please, this is serious. I need your help."

He laughs and says, "Oh, I see. You want to come back home to me, right, cause you feel bad for leaving me for so long? Well, too bad, honey. I'm taken."

You groan, "Stop it. I know you're not dating anyone, and when I come home, it won't be to YOU because we were never together, dumbass." You giggle, "You've hit full delusion without me there, huh?"

"I mean, I've had a lot of time to myself, and I've spent a lot of it in my room talking to George." He chuckles, "Anyway, what can I do for you, buttercup?"

As you walk through the tiny backyard, you admire the vibrant flowers and herbs that Jolly has grown in his garden. He's away at his mom's place, but you still feel nervous when you speak out loud. It's like you are afraid once the words come out, they will be true, and once you admit it to Noah, there is no turning back.

"I need to come home." You say, biting your lip. "I can't be here another day." You feel yourself choke over your words.

You hear him close the door on his side, and the phone crackles as he moves it closer to his mouth. "What do you mean?" He asks, sounding more concerned now. He clears his throat and lowers his voice, "Did something happen?"

"I can't talk about it at the moment. I already feel like I'm going to puke." You say, sniffing back your tears.

You can tell that Noah is getting anxious. "Did he hurt you?" He asks, his voice hard and furious. "Cause I'll come there, and I'll sort that shit out immediately."

You shake your head, even though he can't see you through the phone. "No, he didn't hurt me. Not physically, anyway." You pause, wondering how to ask him for a favor. You hate to impose on him, but you have no other option. You need to get away from this place as soon as possible. "I was just wondering if maybe you could help me out with the ticket." You whisper, hoping he won't get angry. You know you can't afford a last-minute flight back home.

Noah sighs, "Yeah, I'll see what I can find for today." The line goes silent for a moment, and when Noah speaks again, he's more gentle and kind, "I don't know what happened, but I want you to know it's going to be OK." He sounds sincere and caring, and you feel a sense of gratitude.

You feel your eyes water, but you quickly wipe them away. You don't want to cry in front of him, even if he can't see you. You want to be strong and brave like he always says you are. "I'll talk to you later." You say, trying to sound cheerful. You hang up the phone and take a deep breath. You hope he can find a ticket for you. You could really use a Noah hug about now.

Jolly sank into the recliner, facing his mom on the couch. He couldn't look at her; he felt too embarrassed and conflicted. He kept replaying the events of last night in his head, wondering if you hated him. He knew you were hurt; you barely said a word to him for the rest of the night. He saw you lying on the couch, pretending to be asleep, but he could see your eyes flickering and your body tensing.

He wanted to tell you how much he wished things were different. He wanted to kiss you and make you feel loved and be your hero and protector, but he thought he had no right to do that. He felt like he was trespassing on something that belonged to Noah.

He thought he should back off and let you sort things out with your best friend. He couldn't shake the feeling that you had hidden feelings for Noah, even though you denied it.

You and Noah seemed perfect for each other. You had known each other for so long, had your own jokes and secrets, and shared many interests. You spent a lot of time together, and Jolly knew when you did stay the night at their place, you were always in Noah's room. He couldn't help but imagine what you did behind closed doors.

"Joakim," His mother says, breaking the silence. "Is this about that girl?" She asks, noticing his gloomy mood.

He doesn't look up, afraid of what he'll see in his mother's eyes. He knows she's worried about him, but he doesn't want to disappoint her. He continues staring at the floor and nods slightly, "I should have listened to her and kissed her. I think I ruined everything." He leans forward, resting his face in his hands, and sighs.

"Tell me what happened." She urges, moving closer to him on the couch. He sits up and crosses one leg over the other, finally meeting his mother's matching irises. "I messed it up." He groans. "We had this fun day, and at the end of the night, she leaned in for a kiss, and I turned her down."

She nods, listening, "Why, I thought you liked this one?"

He shrugs. "I do. I have, for a long time."

"What is the problem? Did you forget to tell me she was married or unavailable?" She asks, growing concerned that her son has fallen into a trap.

Jolly shakes his head, "I think she has feelings for Noah, and Noah has feelings for her, but they won't admit it." He tells her, feeling the pain crushing him all over again.

"Joakim Oskar Patrik Karlsson, I love you, but you're not very bright sometimes." She laughs, "She came all this way to see you. She wanted you to kiss her. Isn't that enough evidence?"

Jolly's eyes widen, "But Noah-"

"What about Noah? She said she doesn't have feelings for Noah. You need to believe her, and if this is what you want, why aren't you going after it?" She sighs, growing slightly frustrated, "Men." She mutters. "I raised you better than this." She stands up, walks to the front door, and opens it. "Get out."

Jolly looks at his mother with confusion, "What?" He stands up, "You're kicking me out?"

"Go talk to her. Tell her everything because if you don't, she will move on, and there will be others, and you will regret this forever." She was right; he needed to tell you before it was too late.

He kisses his mom on the cheek as he exits the cozy house. He feels nervousness and excitement; he'll do it. He needed to tell you everything: how he thought about you, dreamed of you, and wanted to be with you. He rehearses what he will say but knows words are not enough. He needs to show you how he feels.

Jolly clenches the steering wheel as he drives to his house, his heart pounding in his chest. He dials Noah's number, hoping to hear his voice and clear the air. He doesn't want to lose his best friend over this. He wants to explain himself, to apologize, to make things right. But when he calls, the phone rings once and goes straight to voicemail. He hangs up and tries again but gets the same result.

Anxiety washes over him. He wonders why Noah is ignoring him, and then a horrible thought crosses his mind. You must've called Noah first.

"Fuck." He curses under his breath.

This was going to be the worst drive home ever.

He pulls into his driveway and parks the car, but he doesn't get out right away. His chest tightens when he thinks about facing you. He doesn't know what to say to you, but he hopes his feelings will show through. Jolly finally gets out of the car and walks up the driveway. He takes a deep breath and reaches for the door handle, calling out your name as he opens the door. But he stops when he sees you walking toward him with your bags packed. He feels a jolt of shock and pain as he looks at you, his eyes wide and incredulous. He can't move, he can't speak, and he can't breathe. He stares at you as you approach him, dragging your luggage behind you.

The sound of your bag hitting the ground jolts him out of his trance. "What's going on? Where are you going?" He asks, his voice cracking with emotion. He tries to catch your eye, but you avoid his gaze.

You avert your eyes from him and clamp your mouth shut, suppressing the sob that wants to break free. You wish you had left before he came back.

"Something came up at work, and I need to go home." You lie, hoping he won't hear the quiver in your voice. He knows you too well; he knows you're lying.

"Oh," he says softly, knowing at this moment there was nothing he could do to make you stay. "Let me at least take you to the airport…"

You shake your head and adjust your backpack on your shoulder. You pull out your phone and glance at the screen, "My cab's here." You say, feeling guilt in your chest. You see the pain in his face, and it breaks your heart.

"You were going to leave without saying goodbye?" He asks, his voice barely audible.

You bite your lip and look around the room, trying to find something else to focus on—anything but him: anything but the memories you've made here. "I'm sorry, Jolly. I have to go." You say, walking past him.

He grabs your arm and hugs you tightly, holding you close.

He wants to tell you how he feels. He wants to beg you to stay. He wants to kiss you and make you forget everything else. But he can't. He loves you too much to be selfish and force you to stay. He has to let you go and hope that the two of you will reunite and things will be different.

"Be safe, Honey Bee." He whispers in your ear, then gently pulls back, looking into your eyes. He sees the tears that are about to fall. He wipes them away with his thumb. He tries to smile, but it doesn't reach his eyes.

You nod your head and pick up your bags, "OK." You whisper, leaving him in the doorway as you drag your bags to the cab. You look back at him one last time and see him standing there, watching you go. You feel a surge of emotion and want to run back to him, but you know you can't. You get in the cab and close the door, feeling the finality of your decision. You drive away, leaving him behind.

He lets out a soft sigh, feeling disappointed and empty. He enters his room and sits on the bed, his heart heavy with regret. He kicks off his shoes, hoping a nap will help him forget the pain. But as he looks around the room, his eyes fall on the bedside table, and he sees it: the ring he bought you, a black band with your favorite stone in the center, sitting there, mocking him. He grabs it, holds it in his hand, and tilts it back and forth, remembering how happy you were to receive it, the smile on your face, the joy in your eyes, and your sweet smile. He feels the cold metal against his skin and wonders if you were intentionally hurting him as a form of payback. He shakes his head, not sure of how he feels. He sets the ring back on the table and lays down on his bed, staring at the ceiling. He feels so angry, knowing that this could've been prevented if he just would've kissed you. His heart aches with longing, and he wishes he could turn back time and make things right. But it's too late now, and all he can do is lie alone with his thoughts and regrets. He hears the clock ticking on the wall and counts the seconds, hoping they will pass faster. He closes his eyes, trying to block out the image of you walking away from him. He wonders if you'll ever forgive him, and he wonders if he'll have to watch you fall for someone else or if there is still hope for him when he returns home.

When you arrive at the airport, Noah greets you warmly and offers to help you with your bags. "You doing OK?" he asks, his voice laced with concern. He sees the sadness and exhaustion on your face, and he knows you've been through a lot.

You nod, "Yeah, just wanna get home." You say, forcing a smile. You don't feel like talking; you just want to forget everything that happened. Noah nods in understanding and leads you out of the airport, where his car is waiting. As you walk, Noah glances over to see you staring at the ground. It's dark and cold, and you haven't yet asked him for his jacket, which surprised him. He knows you're always cold and usually lends you his jacket whenever you're together.

"Hey," he says, wrapping his arm around your shoulders and pulling you close. He tries to comfort you, to make you feel better. "You wanna talk about what happened?" He asks, hoping you'll open up to him. He wants to know what went wrong, what Jolly did or said to make you leave so suddenly. He wants to help you, to be there for you.

You feel a pit in your stomach as you think of the events of the last three days. You shrug your shoulders and nudge Noah's arm off you. You open the car door, still remaining silent. You're confused and angry.

Noah starts the engine, his lips pressed together as he watches you stare out the window. He feels like he's partly to blame for what happened. He was the one who encouraged you to go see Jolly, to confess your feelings, to take a chance.

"I'm sorry things didn't go how we thought they would," he says, his voice heavy with sorrow. He watches the road, purposefully missing the turn to keep you in the car a little longer. He wants to spend more time with you, to make you laugh and forget.

"Noah…" You groan. "I don't want to think about it anymore. Jolly made his choice, and now I need to move on." You lean your head on the window and watch as the rain droplets slide down the glass. You feel like they're a reflection of your tears and pain. You wish you could wash away everything that happened, everything that didn't happen and will never happen. "Please stop missing turns. I know it doesn't take this long to get home." You say, feeling impatient and restless. You want to get out of the car, out of this conversation, out of this mess.

Noah's grip tightens on the steering wheel, not out of frustration but worry. He sees the tears in your eyes and the pain on your face. "You wanna stay the night with me? We can watch a movie, and I'm sure George would love to snuggle you." He suggests, hoping you'll agree.

You shake your head again, closing your eyes and pressing your lips together. You don't want to stay with Noah, you don't want to watch a movie, you don't want to snuggle George. You just want to go home, to your own bed, to your own space, to your own misery. "I'll get him in the morning, Noah. I just really want to go home." You say, growing frustrated. You hate to sound ungrateful, but you can't stand being around anyone now. You just want to be alone.

The rest of the car ride is quiet, and it's not until you reach your apartment that you remember Noah has a key to your door.

You unbuckle your seatbelt and turn to face him. "Give me your key." You say, holding out your hand. You don't want him to have access to your place, check up on you, or bother you. You want to cut him off, at least for tonight.

Noah looks at you, shocked. "What?" He asks, "No." He says with wide eyes, "You said it's for an emergency, and right now, I'm worried you might have an emergency." He's afraid of what you might do. He cares about you more than you know, and he can't stand the idea of losing you, even if it's only mentally.

You stare at him with disbelief, "Noah, give me the fucking key. I just want to sleep peacefully without you annoying me because you're worried." You snap, losing your patience. You don't care about his feelings, and you don't care about his fears.

Noah can't believe you're pushing him away like this after everything you've been through together. He clenches his jaw and pulls his keys out of the ignition. He grabs the key and drops it in your hand. "Fine. Take it...just promise you'll come get George in the morning."

You force a smile and get out of the car. Noah pops the trunk, and you grab your bags, avoiding his gaze as you walk into your apartment.

You feel a twinge of guilt for how you treated Noah, but you can't help it. You're angry at him for making you believe that Jolly had feelings for you when he clearly didn't.

You drop your bags by your door and head to your bedroom, passing by one of the pictures you cherished of you and Jolly. You push your fingers under the frame and knock it off the wall, letting it fall to the floor. You hear the glass shatter and glance at the broken edge, feeling pain in your chest.

You stare at the photo of you and Jolly, your faces glowing with happiness. It was from the Fourth of July, the night you celebrated with fireworks and laughter. Noah was your photographer, capturing every moment with his phone. He teased you for being too scared to light anything but sparklers, but Jolly didn't mind. He thought you were adorable and joined you with his own sparkler. He wrapped his arm around your shoulder and kissed your temple as the sparks flew around you. It was a perfect night, and you felt nothing could go wrong.

You shake the thoughts as you walk away, not bothering to clean it up.

Reaching your room, you strip out of your clothes and turn off the light. You crawl into bed and reach for your phone, squinting at the bright screen.

You see a text message from Jolly. Did you make it back safe?

You sigh and turn off your phone. You don't want to talk to him. You toss your phone aside and lie on your back, staring at the ceiling, feeling lost and confused. You can't believe you fell for Jolly after holding him at arm's length for so long; you should've trusted your instincts. How did you miss the clues that he was only being nice to you? Maybe you missed the friendly signals because of how he held you the other night in his bed, making you feel safe and serene, or was it how he would wrap his arms around your waist or rest his hands on your hips when he spoke to you? Or maybe it was the ring he gave you, telling you he wanted you to think of him whenever you glanced at it.

You roll on your side and pull the blanket over your head, muffling your sobs. You hate feeling this way. You wish you could erase him from your mind, but you know you can't. He's a part of you, and you can't let him go. You close your eyes and drift into a restless sleep, dreaming of what could have been.

Part four

Tags: @blackveilomens @xxrainstorm

@somewhere-diamond @cookiesupplier

[not-goldy]

Ngl I hate people blurring out the other soliders faces. So many times we get leaked pics or videos everyone else is afforded basic privacy and the tannies are expected to be on display and then one time everyone gets posted and we play where's Waldo with jikook people jump in to hide everyone else's face instead of posting as is. They're all supposed to be equals right now either faces are allowed to be seen or not but these dual expectations blow me

Sigh. I welcome your thoughts and do feel free to share your frustrations and worries with me. It beats the "Jimin is strong and can handle anything tone deaf outta touch squad over there."

Apparently, "Jimin is so strong it's okay for anyone to violate his privacy cos he can handle it. He has a black belt, he's rich, he can protect himself you know💀

his brain is made of vibranium membranes what's a little privacy violation gonna do to him

Feeling gaslighted yet? Welcome to my life on these streets.

Tae must have been late on his wakadan taxes cos dude was low on vibranium the day he threatened to shoot poison needles at reporters who violated his privacy💀

Jungkook reporting those stalkers is crazy cos dude has enough muscles that only rivals that of Kangoroos- you'd think a guy like that would let a little privacy violation pass🥴

It's the dehumanizing that goes with that for me.

They are protecting those other people because they are civilians who have not signed away their right to be respected and treated as human beings. Something about them being civilians reminds them of their own sense of humanity.

However idols can be so- rich, so pampered, so privileged, so objectified, so commodified, so commercialized to feel human let alone be thought of as human in our subconsciousness.

It's why its easy to tear into them and call it review, constructive criticism, when we detouch them as idols we fail to remember they are people's sons, brothers, partners, friend, mentor- worse? They won't fire back. They won't fight for themselves tear into them right back, defend themselves because their station in life requires utta resignation of their personhood.

Why won't they block out their faces? Because THEY KNOW they can get sued for publishing their images without authorization, they can be held directly accountable but not these famous folks. They don't deserve a right to privacy because they have perpetually given those rights away as idols.

This level of dehumanizing of idols has become so normalized in internet spaces we don't even blink or think twice before participating in it.

Somehow we've come to the conclusion that being a public figure means giving up your basic fundamental human rights and that not only is it okay to consume them in ways that violates them, that somehow hyper scrutinizing their very existence, bringing them apart so recklessly and putting them back upside down is okay and all part of their work hazard.

That somehow fame is proof of their consent to be placed on a pedestal so out of realm of human possibilities because that's the only way we can adore them is if they are over and beyond us- beyond human beyond the stratosphere.

I've been trying to protect my own mental health by detouching from certain conversations around these boys because it cuts too close to home. And I don't want to hear she's projecting her queer traumas onto them as if breach of privacy, the blatant micro aggressions, dehumanization isn't a universal struggle- why do i gotta queer to know how that feels? Why can't I just be a fucking human being who relates to another human being?

Imagine a few of us expressing concerns over some of these mental torment they have to endure in there through no fault of theirs only for people to tell you in the face, these men are stronger than they look, they are not victims, they are not damsels in distress- WELL THEY ARE NOT ROBOTS EITHER SO WHICH IS IT?

As if we need people's permission to express concerns, as if there's a threshold of pain these boys, Jimin, is expected to endure before its okay to worry for them and only then would it be okay to worry for their mental health, breach of his privacy and other gazillion bs they are bound experience in there- the hyper masculinty, the toxic masculinty- these boys, Jimin, have gone through so much to discover himself, to break away from toxic gender ideologies, to be okay with who he is, to accept himself and all that is going to chip away at MS and these nutheads are out here telling us he's strong he can handle it. They lack context, can't even comprehend context or nuance IT'S EXHAUSTING.

It's the worst form of bigotry, policing, dismissiveness, anti intellectuallism packed as alternative view points, I've ever encountered in my life. They metamorphorizing, shape-shifting to hide who they truly are at their core.

If I hear anyone jubilate over an untwinked Jimin or untwinked anyone in BTS I WILL GO OFF.

And yes I'm sensitive about this, I've ever had a melt down over the fandom cheering because JM muscled up, I won't have a meltdown this time- I WILL BLOW THIS WHOLE THING TO THE GROUND WATCH ME.

But yea, go off Anon. Get things off your chest💀

[scoobydoodean]

“Loving Dean is a curse that gets other people killed.”

This breaks my heart because this is definitely how Dean sees himself and I hate that for him. I hate that people made him feel that. I hate that the toxic masculinity was so fucking strong that Dean never would’ve bought into therapy. I hate what was done to Dean and how those voices now live inside him and he can’t stop them.

I extra hate it because it was the first time I ever saw a character and saw myself. The difference is that I had someone who loved me enough to push me to do the work and heal. Nobody ever loved Dean enough to live or to actually support him through the work of healing.

Ngl—I don't think toxic masculinity is really Dean's problem? That isn't to say I don't think Dean is a victim of toxic masculinity or that toxic masculinity doesn't affect his life. I just think "Men aren't supposed to feel x" is pretty rarely the reason Dean suppresses something from my perspective.

I actually think when Dean suppresses things (which I think he actually does far less—or at least less effectively—than Sam or Cas) it's usually with quite a lot of awareness about what he is doing (I have a post I need to make about this related to 3.10), and it's because he genuinely cannot afford to fall apart, or feels that he can't afford it. Throughout the whole show, Dean is actively in a war zone or he's repeatedly being thrust back into one and has to be ready to react at any moment. Take season 4—where Dean is freshly returned from arguably the most traumatic experience of his entire life, and is immediately saddled with an apocalypse in which he unwittingly and unwillingly plays a starring role. I haven't had very many experiences I would consider traumatic (and certainly not on Dean's scale), but the one that stands out was not a situation I was mentally capable of healing from while I was still trapped in the situation that was causing me that distress. I had to get out first. 15.19 does set Dean up to escape the war zone, but then 15.20 rips away his right to choose his own path (until The Winchesters) by killing him and writing through decades of time where Dean's feelings and voice are utterly silenced.

I think everyone has their own vision of what healing looks like for Dean. I think for a lot of people, healing looks like a deancas reunion. For one of my friends, healing looks like Dean leaving Sam and Cas behind forever and making his own path away from them jahgdjabjdfnj. For others, it looks like retirement and maybe therapy.

I think tbh the show itself ruined "Dean goes to therapy" for me (especially with 13.04) and also the idea of me really dictating Dean's path at all? (And when I said that to a friend, she said "So Dean is really a real person to you, huh?" jshbfjhsbdajhfb) but I think it's that... what I want for Dean after years of being objectified and used and having his voice silenced, is freedom and endless possibilities—including freedom from my own vision of his ultimate fate? It's so strange because it's almost as if the finale thinks it gave me that with the open road Dean drove along. Yet in reality, it gives me the stifling, nightmarish antithesis—a Dean devoid of determination who looks and feels like he has utterly given up and is just swept along by the tide, silenced, moving through a void, painted with forced happiness/contentment that doesn't feel real. For me, The Winchesters renewed that flame in Dean, but what I want for Dean—personally—looks probably more like... Dean having a knock-down-drag-out vicious fight with almost everyone in his life one by one, where he advocates for his own interest and his right to be heard, and well... wins. 🤭 And then goes on to do absolutely whatever the fuck he wants.

I think Dean does know—he really does—where most of these intrusive thoughts originate from, and a part of him knows these judgements of himself aren't fair ("Dream A Little Dream Of Me" shows us a lot of Dean's awareness, as does "Sam Interrupted") but... hm... I guess for me personally, therapy isn't what I'm looking for for him. But I think it's completely valid that other people want to see that—especially when speaking from their own experiences and the joy they now have that they'd like to share with him.

[galaxyofwrites]

“Hello, my Lady,” Ainara greets the statuette of a shrine on the side of the road, sitting on a box with a side open, with small offerings at its feet and a necklace of prayer beads wrapped around it, she gives a quick bow to it, “It has been a while, has it not? I don't need anything, I just… needed someone to talk to, and you seemed like my best option. If you can even hear me this way.”

“I should catch you up a bit on my life. I've been traveling some while, still with that centaur and triton, and things have been calm for the most part. No sign of the hunters for the last few months, I think I have managed to get them off my tracks for the time being… Nayven and Achos are a bit further ahead, trying to find a spot to set up camp in. But… That is not what I came to talk to you for.”

She sighs, sitting down to the height of the shrine, looking into her bag for her bottle and pouring a little bit of her water into the earth. “What would you do, what advice would you give me, hypothetically speaking, if I were to be in love? Of course, just a hypothetical train of thought, I would not be stupid enough to fall in love after, well, you know.”

Ainara hears the call of a swallow in the distance, “If you are listening to me, would you be laughing at me, my Lady? Fair enough, I probably do deserve it. The irony of my situation is not lost on me… running away from one royal to fall into the hands of another, falling for another royal.” She hears the swallow again, seeing it land on top of the shrine and stare at her, and she laughs to herself. Yep, Aeis is sure listening to her.

“I know love is more the domain of her goddess, not yours, but emotions sound close enough. I just… My Lady, what am I supposed to do? What is happening to me? I don't know what to do. I didn't know myself capable of this.” She fidgets with her ring, taking a deep breath, “My heart beats too fast, I feel too warm. I have never been one for touch but… I can't help but ache for it, when it is her…”

The bird chirps at her, in something that sounded almost like a question. “It is pitiful, is it not? That I was made into this mess by just a pretty face and some tea. A girl who showed kindness to a stranger who only knows to bring danger along her path. Love is too strong a word, but it is about as close as I can to describing what insanity she brought in me.”

Ainara's mind goes to Nayven. To her snowy white fur and hair, prim and proper and well taken care of, occasionally calling upon her to help. To her soft hands, which seem to only know how to be gentle, their touch always being light like a butterfly. To her pale skin, rosy at her cheeks and knuckles, too her lips, but it's not like Ainara would know that– she doesn't spend more time than she is willing to admit into wondering what their lips would feel like together, wondering if she tastes of that tea she loves so much.

She wonders, even if Nayven cared for her in the same way she did, would she still love her the same if she knew the truth? That the name of Ainara Boreas was lies, that she –unfortunately– had a fiance waiting for her back home and looking for her, that she was not a cleric of Aeis at all? If she truly knew how weak Ainara was, building fragile walls around herself made of half-truths?

Every rose has its thorns, Ainara knew that as a fact– she thought her heart was untouchable, but here she is. Love is for the fools, she used to think, but now she is not sure anymore.

She tried to build up walls around herself once she lost Hyacinth, she could not afford the idea of getting attached to someone and losing them again, but here is Nayven, who found a crack in her defenses and decided to chip away at them, intentionally or not.

Gods, someone help her.

The thorny vines that made up Ainara's defenses surely started to bloom, little flowers of white and blue, and for some reason she was okay with it.

The bird chirps at her again, pulling her out of her thoughts, “Alright, I will head to them again, I just… make no promises about approaching her with my emotions. They will fade on their own eventually, right?”

She gets up, giving a little bow to the shrine, “Thank you for listening, my Lady. I'll see you soon.”

[artsychaosbean]

I'm so tired of this (Rant)

My mom is sensitive to EVERYTHING unless shes the one doing it. > I Open the windows for air BAD bc its too cold > Mom opens the windows on the same day GOOD even though its colder than before when I tried to > Mom puts on perfume in the bedroom GOOD (2 - 3 squirts of a strong perfume) > I Put on perfume in the bedroom BAD (1 squirt of a medium perfume) > I put perfume on in the bathroom with the bath fan on or window open so the smell doesnt linger STILL BAD because mom will then decide to walk right into the room to put on makeup despite my warning about the perfume. Then rages out about it. > Mom or my siblings puts nailpolish on in the house, upstairs in the living area and uses nail polish remover GOOD > I put on nail polish and use natural oils to remove nail polish downstairs with the door closed to upstairs and the door to outside open to prevent smells from lingering in the house BAD its still too strong i have to go do my nails in the pouring rain or snow instead. > Mom brings flowers into the house into a tightly closed room with poor ventilation, flowers im allergic to, every year despite knowing it effects my asthma GOOD > I bring flowers into the house after double checking she has no allergy to them and keep them in an open room that is well ventilated BAD What the heck does she want from me?! Everytime I do something SHE does its wrong Everytime I do something SHE tells me to do its not enough and I have to go to extreme lengths like do my nails in the snow in winter or put perfume on out in the snow or she goes into a screaming match with me. But she has no breathing problems or headaches when SHE does it, When my brothers do it, when GUESTS do it. (Yes we've had guests put perfume on right in our house) But when I do it and ventilate the house well, suddenly she can't breathe yet can breathe enough to stomp around the house slam doors and scream.

I'm tired of the heat being cranked up in the fall and spring as though its winter and in the summer the AC being turned off and windows opened wide when its 28C out. I get heat stroke at anything above 21C and have lung problems with it my lungs have to work harder because I can't breathe. I always have since I was a toddler. My body runs hotter im supposed to be careful. But im made to suffer the heat every single year my whole life and when I open the window suddenly its "Im freezing im going to get hypothermia" at 20 - 21C When I was a kid she would go out in -15C weather just fine and enjoy walks in cooler weather. I don't know what has happened to her. I've gone to a seperate room before on cooler days (16 -18C) and opened a window, closed the door just so I could cool down and enjoy the air because the other rooms would have heaters on in them and be 26C - 28C and I would be struggling in them. Heres another kicker: > I have asthma attack > Mom gets mad and says "WELL WE ALL HAVE ASTHMA" - despite the fact theirs doesn't need an inhaler according to the doctor it is a "very minor case". I have always needed one but mom never would get me one when I was covered by medical for minors and its too expensive to get as an adult now. I could never ever afford it. Even if I could she still would stop me or throw it out because "I don't want you reliant on medicine because then your lungs wont work on their own. DO YOU WANT TO BE ON A BREATHING MACHINE" To note im in constant pain in my lungs every single day of my life, my whole life. Im in my 20s now. I have found natural ways to manage it so its not as bad such a caffeine and try to avoid as much as I can that irritates it. But im living my life on a thin rope. > I have depression and bring it up > Mom says "We all have depression, You're not special. WHAT ABOUT YOUR SIBLINGS?" >I bring up my anxiety > Mom says "Well what about my anxiety? I have it too! or your siblings. Just learn to live with it, just force yourself through it. You don't Try hard enough. > I bring up my ptsd and ask her not to do something that triggers it from numerous cases of s*xual and physical abuse / assault and 2 cases of almost being r*ped. > Mom says "WELL WE ALL HAVE PTSD get over it"

Shes my ONLY parent. She treats my siblings so much different than me and I will never understand why. Is it because im the youngest? or is it because im the one with physical and neurological disabilities? > Mom also says "I never need to worry about you. Look at your poor siblings they need me more. I gave you enough attention as a child" > The "Attention" mom gave me being fighting a court case to protect me from my abusive almost r*pist father. Thats it, my siblings got all the hugs and care, favourite foods made for them, presents and birthday parties as kids.

[rainbowuniversepageantsys]

Piggyback about Inner Beauty Tip: Have a Plan for Your Education & Career Goals!

Have you ever noticed that those who have a plan for their life and are prepared have a light and inner spark within them? Me too. Planning and preparation are both powerful and as the saying goes "If you fail to plan, then you plan to fail." This is so true. A life unplanned is a life that will most likely fall by the wayside and the person who lives this unplanned life will be flying by the seat of their pants and there is no safety there. So here are some tips for you about how to plan for your education and career goals:

Don't let anyone, parents included, control your path but God. God sees everything we don't see, way in advance 50 years into the future and beyond and that means he knows what is good for us and what is bad so always tell God to let Jesus take the wheel for me please and guide my steps on the path that is right and good for me and you can't go wrong.

Don't be a "fly by the seat of your pants" type person. Be seriously responsible for your day to day actions and plans so you don't just roam through life oblivious to your gifts and power.

Create a portfolio for your life plan and make it fun so you want to look at it and go back to it again and again and revise it and tweak it and follow it. Your portfolio should include your hobbies, interests, a solid vision board that you can add to and take away from time to time, a list of colleges or schools you want to attend or check out, your grades from 7th grade and up, your certificates and degrees or diploma, your test scores from SAT's and any important exams you need to get into colleges or universities, your career history, your career choices, a clean and solid resume that you can build upon, and anything else that will get you to where you want to go in life.

Dabble in different things to find your passion and don't ignore your heart. It will lead you to your destiny even if you end up taking some detours go back to it and keep following it until you figure out your purpose for being on this planet.

Ask God to show you what your destiny is and who you are supposed to be with so you don't get involved or stay involved with the wrong person or take the wrong jobs and wrong career path. This is what I did and I had a dream about what I was supposed to do (be a motivational speaker) and God made sure I was good at that so I have been following that path for years and it has taken me to great places and to meet amazing people encouraging everyone I can and now I have a youth services empire that is still in the works. Ask until you get an answer!

Check out schools and colleges and make a list, weigh pros and cons, likes and dislikes and find out what you can afford.

Determine degrees or certificates or licenses that you need.

Chart your journey and make it fun.

Choose a solid career that will resonate with your hearts desires and get your feet wet by volunteering and doing internships.

Befriend people in the industry you want to work in and make some waves.

Be seen on social media, do videos, audios, podcasts so people know who you are. This will help build your professional reputation. Keep it golden and filled with integrity.

Build your reputation and your image so you know how you want to present yourself to the world and how you want people to see you.

Write down goals, find an accountability buddy who will stand by you and encourage you when you need it and stick to your steps to reach your goals.

Reward yourself for finishing strong.

Remember, when people and you yourself see how responsible you are at planning and prepping for your future your inner beauty will shine from the inside out, you will attract others and they might even learn from you so they can do what you did to get what you got!

Youth - find a guy/gal who has his/her life in control and plans and prepares for what is to come. It's ok not to be doing this yet, just make plans and take the time to make this a habit and you are on your way. You will feel secure!

[writingforatwistedworld]

May I send a letter to Epel. Oh and before I forget congrats on 500 followers!

Dear Epel Felmier,

I hope you receive this letter. I admire you very much. You're so cool, even though like me you're still quite petite, but unlike me you're strong. Both physically and emotionally.. But I want you to know that, just because you're beautiful or cute that doesn't mean you can't be strong or tough. After all, the best assassins in history could pass for BOTH genders. So, Vil is right in a way. That you can be beautiful and strong.. He just goes about it all the wrong way. But with that out of the way, if you're still confused about why you ended up in Pomefiore, remember that nickname you said you had, "Poison Apple," which is the same thing that the Beautiful Queen used to take down Snow White, so like the apple she gave her, you're quite beautiful but there's also a "poison" or tough side to you. So don't forget, I'm rooting for you. Sorry, I'm probably spiraling. But what I wanted to say is, I wish I could be by your side more often. You're amazing and so cool. I wish I was more like you.

              Yours truly,

                               Reader

I do not know if the reader is already supposed to be in their world or not. I need to know that. Please keep that in mind the next time I open requests.

Self-aware au

I do not take any responsibility for you reading this no matter which age group you are from!

WARNINGS: Yandere themes, obsessive behavior, possessive behavior, religion, murder, poison

Epel Felmier-Following faith

Dear Overseer,

getting a letter from someone like you is something beyond my wildest dreams. “The overseer is above us all. Don't expect them to even shed a glance into our direction.” was what the elders of my village always told us. They would always stand in front of the small church, talking about how rude the entire nation is by denying you your belivers. There are not so many places in the Shaftlands that follow you in more religious ways but I doubt there is a place so loyal like Harveston.

All my life I was told that I am nothing more than dust in your eyes and yet here you are, telling me that I am perfectly fine the way I am. You are right, after all, you are perfection itself so your words are the law of the universe. These last few days I had been thinking about the paintings in the church which symbolized you but in the end, they are nothing like you. You are so... human. Kind to everyone yet also cruel when the situation calls for it. I would love to live up to your standards but sadly, I am not able to do that. There are still many doubts in my head. I am aware that just doubting you is a sin by itself but I can't help it.

The person wishing to be like the other isn't supposed to be you, it's me. I was not able to see past my insecurities and use my looks like you said. Here I am, a sinner, daring to call himself a devoted follower of yours! If there is a way to repent, please tell me! I will do anything to please you! After repenting might be able to spend time with you! My dear God, you aren't the only one wishing to be by the others side. No matter what, my thoughts are always with you. Your perfection and that imbecile who dared to be too close to you. How dare they? Just breathing the same air as you do is a luxury no one could ever afford and that annoyance just took it for granted! Vil has taught me about many different poisonous plants. Do you wish for me to out that knowledge to use? Just tell me that and I will make sure that he won't see the next sunrise.

Please keep in mind that I am a faithful follower and that I would do anything for you.

Epel Felmier

[pig-wings]

I went home this weekend for what was supposed to be my mom's bday party. That got canceled because of covid, which was a bummer. There was a ton of lead-up to this weekend for me because I had been pretty firm that coming home would be difficult given what I have going on at work, but my dad and sister really wanted me there, so my dad ended up getting me plane tickets. Frustrating, but my therapist and I worked together to make a plan for enforcing these boundaries in the future.

Pretty much the only thing anyone in my family wants to talk to me about is the wedding, which is understandable to a certain degree. Wedding planning really stresses me out. I don't enjoy it. I don't really care about most of it. It's a lot of money. It's a lot of time. And it makes me feel bad that this is seemingly the only thing people can talk to me about, especially when work is exciting and challenging and I'm going through a lot of changes. My sister wanted to know about colors, decor, the registry, dresses etc--all things I don't know because I haven't even sent the deposit. I eventually asked if we could put a stop to wedding talk. That just made her mad, because it's just "what I have going on in my life right now". Okay.

So the shindig gets canceled and I need a place to stay because obviously I can't stay with my parents since my dad has covid. Fiance gets me a hotel room because I said I'd rather eat the cost than stay with my sister. A little selfish and immature, maybe, but I can afford a room for a night and I was having pretty strong emotions about my encounter with her.

My mom calls me this morning and asks why I stayed at a hotel and not with my sister. For some reason, I was honest with her. I've been trying to keep her on a lower info diet and idk why but I felt like this was an opportunity to finally say "Hey, wedding stuff really stresses me out and is not fun for me personally, please find other things to talk to me about and let me start these conversations with you". She goes quiet and just starts saying,"Well, I guess the whole day was a bust then. I guess the whole day was bad." and I have to asked her what she means, say that I'm sorry her surprise party was canceled. Because I am. I wasn't looking forward to coming home but I knew she would be really surprised to see me. So my mom just starts lamenting about how she wishes everyone could get along, how she wishes everyone was happy with each other. I say that I have a right to ask for this boundary with my sister. My mom immediately goes into supportive mode, and then starts asking questions about whether or not I want a normal wedding, then she asks if I'm getting cold feet. Those are both fine questions and I tell her I got the one thing I wanted to make me happy for the wedding, which was my venue of choice (our local zoo). I tell her that I'm not getting cold feet.

It's weird, because she pivoted from trying to be supportive to saying "well, it's your fault people are asking you questions" because we've been engaged a "long time" (we have been engaged 10 months) without a scrap of planning. "You have to throw people a crumb." "Surely Fiance's family is asking a million questions" (they're not). She says once I have a date picked out people will stop. We do have a date. The venue confirmed. The questions are not about the date. They are about what colors everyone will wear, what dinner plates I will put on my registry, etc. This really upsets me, because she has turned a behavior I requested people stop and made it a 'me' problem. She also then says that she understands it's my first instinct to shrink back and not do anything, but that I have to. Ouch! Ouch ouch ouch! I start crying, tell her I need to go get ready to leave, and she launches into "oh I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make you upset, that came out badly" and I just reiterate that I need to go.

She sends me a text that basically is "sorry if i upset you, i was trying to be supportive, sorry that I upset you." Non apology!! Total non apology! I don't reply because I'm trying not to lose it in airport security. She texts me later with "let us know when you land." and I just text back, "I will, love you." She texts back "I hope so!"

Which is just...genuinely one of the worst things my mom has ever said to me. I'm not sure if she meant "I hope you'll tell me when you land", or "I hope you love me", though I really think it's the second one, and that's like, a whole can of worms I've barely begun to unpack.

It feels like I hit a turning point. I don't know what to do about it. I have been struggling with my mom a lot, and this has been a major subject of therapy lately. She is hyper obsessed with my appearance and weight. She wants me on a certain life path. She does not acknowledge the acommplishments I've made. She does not allow me to be negative. Just two weeks ago, she told me how proud she was of me, because the "old me" would have taken everything going on at work as "bad things". That is not a compliment. I was depressed. I still am depressed. I'm just better at taking care of myself.

I let my leg and armpit hair grow out. I embrace my interests. I sink into work. I am forever grateful to have a partner in life who loves me. He sat me down while I was wallowing and said "Hey, my love for you is unconditional. There are things I like about you. There are things I don't like. It doesn't matter. I love you unconditionally, the good and the bad."

But, still. It's painful. I don't know. Being a daughter is one of the most painful things I can be. I know my mom has suffered a lot. I know she was raised by a mom who sent her to charm school and French lessons. But I'm her hairy, nerdy, bisexual, biologist daughter. Being married is not my life. Being submissive is not my life. I know she paid for horseback riding lessons and I know she went to award ceremonies and sporting events and etc. It still hurts.

[067supremacy]

WARNING! Mentions of death, loss, and grief 

Your one and only - Jill Valentine

I'm sorry in advance 💔

Rain and tears mingle on your face, salty tracks blending into the fresh sky-fallen trickles. Only the pinkness of your eyes gives any clue to your sadness, and in this city, who will look closely enough to tell. There is a heaviness to your woolen coat that was absent when you left the hospital.

The rain beats down on you like a drum; the sheer force, combined with your ultimate sadness, was tiring. The massive sign covered in graffiti signaled that you had just entered the local park. Seems a good enough place as any to have a breakdown.

The children play park came in to view, and that's when the memories of your childhood spiked; it was this exact play park you met the love of your life, Jill. Better times and Better memories.

Yesterday was so simple, you picked up the expensive ring you could barely afford, you got Jills' favorite flowers, her go-to snacks. And even had her favorite movie ready to play. Jill always said she wanted subtle, so a proposal in the apartment you now shared together seemed perfect. Little did you know that shortly after midnight, you would get a call.

A call you hoped would never come, a call you couldn't imagine would ever come. The sound of a man's voice, easily mid-'50s, said with nothing but sorrow, the two words you never wanted to hear. "I'm sorry,"

The rest of the call was a blur; you couldn't even remember hanging up. But you had one destination, and that was the Raccoon City Hospital.

It was fairly routine for people with Jills' skill set, a possible kidnap and hostage situation. You didn't know the details, and quite frankly, you didn't care for them, but the man who was responsible for that crime had just taken the life of your one and only.

Your mind was in denial; she would be fine. Sitting up in the hospital bed with a slight cut, anxiously awaiting your arrival.

This was far from the case. The sad smile the doctor offered you; told you everything you needed to know. She was gone—your Jill. The sight you entered on was sickening. Multiple bullet wounds scattered her chest and stomach, tubes, and wires were surrounding her body. Her face was pale white, but her neck under was stained crimson red.

The overwhelming urge to release the contents of your stomach was stopped, for you had to be strong at this moment. The tears you tried so hard to keep back were eventually released—a downpour, similar to the one outside.

It was almost as if mother nature had taken your soul as a reference to how the weather would be. At first, the flood gates opened, and as you stroked her cold, bloodless cheek, the rain got heavier and heavier.

Your tears of sadness soon became anger. When the anger crept up, you could hear the light rumble of impending thunder, followed by the deadly strike of lightning.

The devil himself would have been shaking at your fury, begging for endless mercy.

She was right in front of you, even in death, she was angelic. You took this opportunity to let everything out. Your agonizing wails of pain echoed through the empty hospital hallways; patients, doctors, and nurses could all hear your life unfolding. This is genuine pain.

As preparations for Jills' body were put into place, you kissed her hand one last time. The last time. Your heart was officially broken; no amount of time would heal this fracture on your being. The second you exited the hospital room, you felt nothing.

A man you knew to be Jills' partner, Chris, was standing by the door. He, too, looked distraught, his tall, overpowering demeanor was gone. Replaced by utter sadness, he avoided eye contact as he caught your attention.

"I'm so sorry, I-I tried my best, but- "

You shook your head in response. You knew Chris would take this hard; Jill was his partner after all.

"Don't do that to yourself, she wouldn't let you," That was all you could manage; it was blunt but to the point.

"In the event of one of our- this is for you, I promised I would give it to you,"

Chris held out a small envelope, which you took before aimlessly walking through the silent corridor.

With those thoughts pushed aside, you looked down at the wrinkled envelope; it was slightly water damaged, so you hoped whatever was inside was still intact.

You took a seat by the playground; it was covered from rain by a small canopy. As you open the envelope, you take a deep breath when you realize it's a letter, and the handwriting is unmistakable. It was Jill who wrote this.

"So, I'm not good with this sort of thing. I hope that you never have to read this.

Anyway, Hi, babe. If you receive this letter then, well. I'm gone.

I want to start off by saying that I'm sorry. I know how you will react to this; you will be upset at first, but that will turn to anger; it will be with others at first, but soon the anger will be with yourself. Please don't let it consume you; I know you won't fight it, which is why I will personally come back and throw it out of you. (Drawn smiley face) when my light goes out, and it's my time to settle down, just know that my main concern will be you. Always you.

Secondly, I love you. I dedicated everything I have to you, but it still feels like it isn't enough. When I get home tonight, I will be sure to tell you ten times over just how much I love you.

Finally, since you probably/hopefully won't see this, I should tell you that I may have plans to get you a puppy for your birthday. You won't stop talking about it and well if it makes you smile. It will make me smile. Also want to add that I'm still waiting for you to propose; stop teasing me with it and ask the question already! The answer is always yes.

You're the one I can't live without.

This fact is true, I have no doubt.

I love the way you smile at me.

I love the way together we're free.

Your one and only, Jill."

Everything about this letter was crushing. She was waiting for you to propose. God was playing a sick game right now; he had no respect for your life. Everything that you wanted was supposed to happen tonight. You would finally spend the rest of your life with her until the powers beyond took it all away.

The tears continued to fall, and the rain had yet to die down. Looking out at the busy street beyond the park, the neon glow of high street shops surrounded by water droplets, created the aesthetic of a lifetime. You began to see her face in the rain; you could make out every single detail that made her so unique. As a flash of lightning temporarily blinded your vision, by the time it was back. Her face was gone.

There was no doubt that tonight would forever be remembered, just not in the way you hoped. The night you were to ask Jill for her hand in marriage was the same night you lost her forever.

[raichijin]

⋆͛♡⋆͛ the hangover; mirio edition.  ❥ a one-shot.

━━━━━ 𝐑𝐀𝐈𝐂𝐇𝐈𝐉𝐈𝐍 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓. (tba)

preface; writing this was honestly so painful. a testatment to why i should never 1.) do collabs ever 2.) write long things. i am drained.

word count; 5k words.

starring; mirio, mina, shinsou, denki, unnamed boyfriend.

summary; after your boyfriend forgets about your anniversary, you spend some time with friends to forgive and forget about what happened. then it gets worse.

warnings; reader gets called some nasty names towards the end of the fic. watch out for that.

you were supposed to be spending this weekend with your boyfriend. at a resort, poolside, on vacation, or on a beach, or where ever he’d fancy peeling off the nice (read: expensive) swimsuit he’d gotten you for your five year anniversary.

he was kind, is kind, but not as committed to your relationship as he was to his job. not even a call as the clock struck midnight, almost an hour past your reservation, but a text the morning after with a short apology, and the sudden announcement that he’d be working late. again. you didn’t cry. wouldn’t, because shedding tears would cause a mess and a headache, and self-doubt is what’s tucking you in at night, telling you that maybe for tonight, tomorrow and the day after your feelings don’t matter.

cause his job is the one keeping you afloat. (your interest in the arts is cute, to him; like a hobby. nothing you could stay afloat with. it’s too risky, he insists, so to you, it became nothing. to others? it became offhand remarks at his high-end office parties. a joke to your in-laws. a breathed sigh of relief from your parents.) so more time is what’s best for the both of you.

that has to be it.

your friends figure out something might be wrong when you go ghost for days, bordering on a week.

you mention how it’s easy to lose track of time when you’re by yourself as you are, but they don’t buy it. say you need to loosen up, take a vacation of your own even when you say you don’t need it because you’re not working, give you sharp glares whenever you object. you don’t know why you thought you had a choice in the matter — especially when mina’s sugar mommy gives her enough money to afford 2 full suites at one of the most expensive hotels in the area.

denki also tags along, just cause, and brings his boyfriend; shinsou, with him.

if they know what’s going on, they never mention it. 

and it’s a little easier to cope that way.

you dip your toes, ease yourself into the night, before you’re being pulled into the deep end and your mind’s been left at the door, but your body is having a field day.

you should’ve blacked out two margaritas ago.

you think you did.

you’re too drunk to recall all of the rash decisions you made, or whether or not you maxed your credit card, but you’ve must’ve gotten separated from your friends somewhere along the way, because when you wake up, you are distinctly not in your bed, not in a tastefully decorated room, not in a hotel.

and mina, shinsou, denki? unless they’re in the adjacent room, they’re not here with you either. you’re still in your clothes from last night. your shirt is missing a button and you don’t have your shoes on, but beyond that, you’re perfectly fine.

a scraggly bed head lies next to you, who is, notably, more nude than you are.

he has no shirt. no shoes. no pants. his blonde hair is unruly and you’re so shocked you actually start to wake up. your eyes widen and you’re sitting up so fast you’re a bit dizzy from the sudden motion.

the room is spinning and you feel sick, the headache behind your eyes making you want to grind your molars into dust. and just as quickly as you sat up, you lay back down; shaking the bed with the force. the guy next to you isn’t as heavy of a sleeper as you hoped, though. he blinks open tired eyes, showing you the most exquisite navy blue, and the little bit of drool dripping down his chin might’ve been cute if he wasn’t a complete stranger.

though you can’t stave off the creeping anxiety, the silence as he comes to his senses doesn’t feel wrong, and you’re more confused than scared.

he rubs his eyes with the heel of his palm, and gives you a criminally bright smile, and though his voice is wrecked when he says “...g’morning, sunshine.”, you doubt yours sounds much better. 

the nickname makes you feel fuzzy, if only for a second.

“i, uh … good morning?” you sound awkward, but the guy manages to find humor in your predicament when he chuckles gently, sitting up without so much as a second thought. you can see more of his body when he does so, and when his hand comes up to ruffle his hair, you can catch the glint of a silver band, resting on his ring finger. 

then everything clicks into place.

did you cheat? was he cheating?

all of the things you’d been beating yourself up over settle thick over top like smoke clouds and a raging fire. you feel like you’re suffocating, and don’t realize you’re freaking out until a strong hand is wrapping around yours, which, in your panic, you squeeze.

you spot a matching ring on your hand, that you know for a fact wasn’t there before,

and you think that’s when you pass out.

you wake up (again) to a room with tacky but charming decor, the smell of breakfast, and considerably less of a headache than what you started with. now more lucid, with the strength in your body to walk and think, your first priority is finding your phone. you tap your pockets, check the bedside drawer and tables, under your pillow, in the cracks of the bed, under the bed.

no cigar. you’re digging through miscellaneous memorabilia, trinkets and clothes that aren’t yours for at least a minute before the guy you were laid up in bed with comes back to just to see you picking through the corners of his bedroom, banana in hand.

he stands in the doorway and clears his throat. he has clothes on this time, pants. “you’re awake? are you feeling any better?”

you startle, straighten your back and stand upright, your arms falling to your sides. “um, kind of. i — have you seen my phone?”

he shakes his head, offers you the banana. “you should have this though! it’ll fix that hangover, i think.”

“i … thanks.” standing and eating a banana in someone else’s bedroom is certainly … a time.

“i made some breakfast,” he says when you’re halfway finished, “if you want some.” he ends with a smile, and you feel those 3 shots of serotonin go straight to your brain.

granted, you shouldn’t be that happy.

he takes the lead and turns around, leading you down a narrow hallway into a quaint kitchenette with a lovely beach view and all the good summer vibes condensed into a single, small room. it makes your heart hurt even more when you realize you have someone home, someone expecting you to come back.

to a hollow apartment, a cold bed, a lukewarm welcome.

you have to force your brain to be quiet to even hear a fraction of what blondie is saying.

“alcohol basically just dehydrates you. the potassium stops that, gets you all your minerals and stuff back. i heard it works with beer, so i was thinking it works for other stuff too!” he sounds so chipper that it brings your mood up just to hear his voice.

so bold and sure, warm and kind.

“but if it doesn’t clear up in 30 minutes, i have some advil i can give you! don’t want you having a headache all day now.” he’s sitting you down at his small table and sliding some pancakes in front of you, some orange juice. eating feels like a chore, but you know you have to, or that you should try at least.

while you push around your food, blondie chatters away, and even if you just met, he has you entranced by the way he speaks. smooth like the butter on his toast as his stories flow effortlessly into one another, how easily he can chat you up is amazing; getting you from gentle chuckles to full blown belly laughter before you can get your first bite in.

there’s lulls in the conversation if you count the moments he takes to actually eat, but he keeps you on your toes with his personal anecdotes, and questions about yourself, forcing you out of your shell, little by little.

the thought of your boyfriend pushed back into the depths of your mind.

until you broach the topic of your friends.

you learn quickly that he’s a good listener, completely silent unless prompted, asking questions or making jokes only when you’re finished speaking. when he asks, you tell him about the ones that got you here, shinsou, denki and mina.

his eyes flash momentarily, a look of recognition, or maybe understanding, passing over him. he hums gently, head swaying as he does so.

“they’re a little rough around the edges but they’re like family, you know?”

“i get what you mean. they were very nice when i met them. especially at our wedding!” he sips his coffee.

“i — are you alright? you’re choking!” that you are. the guilt you felt when you first woke up and the rising panic ram into your gut like a freight train, and suddenly, you don’t want to eat anymore.

"what do you mean we're married?" you rub small circles into your forehead as this idyllic morning goes right back to being cruel hell. 

"yesterday, at the chapel," he twists his wedding ring with warm familiarity that makes your stomach churn. "i can't really believe it myself, like maybe we were meant to be? i know the universe works in strange ways like that."

you're sorry to burst his bubble, but you save the happily ever afters for fairy tales, not real life.

you pinch your forehead and heave an exasperated sigh.

"i have a boyfriend." you wrap your arms around yourself, trying to seek lost comfort. "and we don't know each other to begin with. can't even remember your name, i was so drunk."

you cradle your face in your palms, feel his stare bore into the top of your head.

"togata." you perk up.

“what?”

“my name. it’s togata. mirio togata.” 

“oh.” you rub your cheeks, pull them back with the heels of your palms.

“that’s a nice name.” an uncomfortable silence washes over you both before someone speaks up. mirio.

“so what do you want to do?”

you answer a little bit too fast in response. “i don’t know. i … i should call my friends. i still need to find my phone—” you stand up, ignore the onslaught of nausea, and look around the kitchen.

“help me look? and then … and then we can figure out all the other details later.” mirio carries both your plates to the sink, and busies himself with dishes for a brief moment, allowing you to find the bathroom nook and reorient yourself. you fix yourself up a bit, straighten out your shirt and fix your hair up. no time to take a shower.

you cup a hand in front of your mouth, breathe and sniff. eugh. 

“hey, uh, togata; got an extra toothbrush?” his heart might’ve lept when you called him by his given name.

“um! yeah!” rushing water obscures his voice a bit, but if he shouts he’s loud enough to hear. “check under the sink? i should have some there.”

“thanks.”

you rummage around in his cabinets, and in that time he’s managed to clean up the leftover food and put a shirt on. 

your phone having gotten lost or being stolen becomes more of a possibility the longer you think about it. you doubt you came back to his house to do anything but sleep. how many places could you have dropped it? you come out of the bathroom to mirio sitting back at the kitchenette table, holding his phone in his hand.

“hey togata … do you think you can call me?”

“i mean, sure, but i don’t know if i have your number...”

your anxiety makes you a bit snippy even when you don’t mean to be rude, but you can apologize when you get your phone back.  ”just give it to me then. i’ll do it.”

it rings a few times before someone picks up, which is a step up from going to voicemail, and the situation goes from okay to great when the croaky voice of shinsou answers, worn out and tired, but awake enough to make a greeting.

he says you’re not here to pick up the phone right now, you interrupt and say that this is you, and that you just borrowed togata’s phone to figure out where yours was.

“togata? who?” 

“my, my um. husband.” gingerly said, you can see mirio tense up in the corner of your eye.

“oh,” someone’s snickering away from the mic. denki probably. you can’t help but roll your eyes. “mirio?” you’re upset that he can remember his name but you couldn’t. “how is he?” you shoot mirio a look, he gives you a thumbs up.

“good. so, uh, where are you guys?”

two hours away. they’re two hours away by car and mirio’s pickup truck is exactly what you’d expect from him. it’s big, beat up, it’s blue, and it’s his pride and joy, even if it’s slow to start up. if anything, it feels a bit humbling to hear the low hum of the buzzing engine. brings you back down to reality, out of the lap of luxury.

reminds you of the way mirio laughs with his whole chest. that gentle, rumbling purr.

you’re sinking into the crunchy leather seat with a groan, then a laugh from togata; to which you swat at him. you give him the address so he can set it up with his gps, and get going. he messes it up a bit and then it’s your turn to laugh, much to his displeasure. he blushes from the embarrassment, and you pat his shoulder, still chuckling. it feels natural. waking up together. having breakfast together. unofficial road trip to meet back up with your friends because you got blackout drunk and are 100 miles away.

oh, right. you sigh softly and mirio looks over, thinking to comfort you by turning on the radio, greeted by soft pop and slow guitars.

the silence carries.

fifteen minutes into the drive, he thinks to ask about your boyfriend.

“what’s he like?” togata drums his fingers on the wheel with an air of anxiety almost, though you can’t imagine why he would be — unless he thinks you won’t react well to his question. you don’t mind however, and sate his curiosity without as much as a glance.

“oh, he’s nice,” your statement lacks the enthusiasm you’d expect when someone talks about their significant other. it seems sincere, yet exhausted.

“buys me whatever i want, when i want it, loves his job to death, and … we were supposed to be celebrating our anniversary this week.” dejection is visible in the way you slouch your shoulders, interest waning. mirio can’t help but exercise a little concern, filling in the gaps while he’s at it..

“and you couldn’t, because you came here?” you shake your head.

“what? no. i came here because he was too busy, and my friends thought i could still have some fun on my own. his job is important to him.”

“and your relationship isn’t?” your eyes narrow, glaring at him from the passenger's seat.

“the fuck’s that supposed to mean mirio?” 

“well, an anniversary is supposed to be more important than some job— don’t you think he should just take a day off? it wouldn’t hurt.” you lean against the car door, shoulder propping your head up as you peer out the window.

“i mean, i guess. but he’s keeping us afloat, so i can’t really complain.” togata’s eyebrows shoot up.

his tone is incredulous. “what, you don’t work?”

seeing you cringe away out of the corner of his eye is what makes him back track almost immediately.

“i’m so sorry! i’m — wow, that was completely out of line,” your embarrassment lessens when he apologizes, and you inhale sharply. 

“don’t worry. it’s, it’s fine.” you can’t help the way your fingers dig into the flesh of your arm, gnawing the inside of your cheeks, afraid of getting laughed at. mirio wouldn’t laugh at you, would he? 

“i, i used to make music. i was in a band in highschool, actually.” though mirio’s forced to keep his eyes on the road lest you two crash, you can see the way his smile reaches his ears, the silent ‘wow’ of awe making your cheeks heat up. high brow company doesn’t have much use for your talents unless it’s the violin, or something else that fits their lame-ass agenda. your bass chills in the back of your closet, a relic of the past, but a neat decoration.

you shake your head, too caught up in your own train of thought that you didn’t realize togata was speaking.

“i’m sorry, what’d you say?”

“oh! i was just curious, i asked if you sing?” you snort, then full on laugh, though mirio doesn’t seem to get the joke.

“oh, hell no. i don’t have the voice for it, nor the patience to do vocal training. i just played bass! thought it was easier than guitar because it only had 4 strings. i was wrong. maybe i could … show you sometime? i mean, it’s been a while, but i think i remember a few songs: have you heard of seven nation army?”

you talk with mirio about music at length, and learn that he’s a pretty big enthusiast himself and while he’s never played an instrument, he’s been interested in learning guitar. he brings up your band, and the memories of your senior year come flooding back; mina and denki convincing you to audition, your stage fright, recruitment later in spite of it. 

mirio can see the stars in your eyes when you speak, speaking so animatedly with clear adoration at the topic at hand, and he starts getting a creeping suspicion that back where you’re from, you don’t get to talk about this as nearly as much as you like. he realizes in the same breath that he doesn’t mind indulging you. he participates enough so you don’t feel like you’re chatting his ear off, but quiet enough to hear you fill in the empty space.

the way your hands move as you tell stories is adorable and so is your enthusiasm, he could hear you ramble for hours and never get bored. and he nearly does, it’s been an hour and you’re still talking — but then you take a breath, and apologize for no good reason.

he squints at you, confused.

“what’re you apologizing for?”

“i’ve been talking waaaaay too much. i’ve barely heard a word out of you for the last thirty minutes!”

“i thought you were having fun! i know i liked listening. besides, it looks like that you don’t get to talk enough about the stuff you enjoy. i’m willing to listen, so talk all you want!” the assumption makes you furrow your brow, and you hate that you feel like he’s right. 

your boyfriend either talks about his job, your friends, his parents, or nothing at all. no interest in music. no time for it. your friends enjoy reminiscing on occasion, but you don’t speak enough to them to get all nostalgic.

it’s … nice that he takes your feelings into consideration. you smile to yourself, saying nothing in response.

“we’re getting closer to the hotel — it’s 30 minutes away now.” it gets quiet again, before all the sounds you hear are the other cards and the slow hum of low volume music you’d forgotten about, coming from the radio. you turn towards the window to take in the scenery while mirio catches glimpses of you in his periphery, surprised at how adorable you look, doing even the most mundane of things.

mirio couldn’t remember much from the night before, well, can’t remember anything that wasn’t you. you weren’t completely out of it when you met him, but he could’ve misjudged, considering he wasn’t quite in his right mind either. didn’t know if it was the alcohol that made you so bold, but everything about you was so charming. 

from something as simple as your smile to how easily you chatted him up, despite his tendency to be a tad overbearing, you would take him and his attitude in stride. running around town, dipping in and out of nightclubs with your friends close behind, getting kicked out of said clubs, dancing and laughing together in another—

he huffs, pouting to himself. your boyfriend was so damn lucky.

he steps on the gas and starts going a little faster. you don’t seem to mind.

the rest of the trip was silence, and it wasn’t until he parked and stepped out of the car and said something.

“wow.” he whistles, low and long, until you pinch his arm to stop from attract the stares of passerby. “you guys could afford this? gosh. that’s like, three of my paychecks, maybe.” you chortled as he helped you out, quick to clear up any confusion.

“not me,” you walked in the lobby with him, going straight to the elevators after checking in with the front desk. “i could barely afford it! mina’s … uhm, girlfriend, paid for a room for all of us.” he arches a brow at the emphasis on girlfriend, but if he has any objections, he holds his peace.

“mmh. wonder what it’s like to be rich.” 

you laugh as you’re carried up a few floors, specifically to the more expensive suites, at least 12 floors up. “me too dude! mina is lucky.”

you’re barely knocking on the room door before denki is throwing it open and screeching, ushering you both in. they remember mirio from last night, which is upsetting, considering they don’t remember anything else: not how you got to mirio’s house, not how they got back home. not how they found your phone in the bathroom either, apparently.

“speaking of bathrooms, i’m gonna take a shower. keep mirio company, i guess." 

you have to look through your luggage for a change of clothes, and find your phone on your bed in your room, charging and you don’t think about going through it until after you’re clean.

coming back to nearly forty notifications from your boyfriend wasn’t on the agenda, and quite frankly, might’ve been a sign. some were calls but most were all lower case texts, each more foreboding than the last. holding your towel up with one hand, you scroll through your messages with the other.

 what the fuck is wrong with you?

 who the hell is this guy?

beneath it, a video of you and togata. your pupils dilate, and a deeply rooted sense of dread clutches your heart. it looks like a screen recording off of denki’s instagram account, of you two dancing. not overtly scandalous, but too close for comfort.

have you been cheating on me? 

for how long

how desperate are you? i say i have a business trip and you take it as an excuse to slut it up somewhere else?

you’re fucking pathetic.

heart slowly sinking, threatening to beat out of your chest, you can’t find it in you to scroll through the rest. you barely have pants on before you’re calling him up, frenzied and feeling out of breath. the phone barely rings twice before you’re going to voicemail and hearing the beeping tone. 

fuck. fuck fuck fuck.

you hang up, and try again.

this time, he picks up on the first dial tone.

“baby?” you nearly yell into the microphone, while the other end remains silent.

“what is it.” his voice is hollow, not even asking a question; rather making a statement. you choke on your words, are quiet for a few seconds at most before he’s barking at you. “i don’t have all day. i’m busy.”

“t-that video. it wasn’t, it wasn’t anything—” something slams in the background that makes you flinch, and he takes it as a good opportunity to cut you off.

“so the wedding wasn’t shit either? the way he was holding you, looking at you like that, like some lovesick fucking puppy?”

“w-what? what’re you talking about honey? it’s nothing like that—”

“don’t get fucking cute with me. i’ve seen the photos. that girl mina doesn’t know how to not publicize your life.” you feel like dying. 

“i knew i should’ve never settled for you.”

“you don’t mean that—”

“shut the fuck up.” there’s more shuffling on his end, a deep sigh. you’re too shaken to speak. “i wasted so much on you. gave you a house, a home, just for you to repay the favor by being a two-bit whore, sit on your ass all day and complain, and waste my time with those stupid fucking hobbies of yours.” what’s more terrifying is that his voice doesn’t wane or waver. he means it.

“... honey, please. please just let me explain!” you hadn’t even noticed the tears until you’re wiping them off your cheeks, your sniffling getting louder until you’re full on sobbing.

“there’s nothing left to explain. get your shit out by tuesday. we’re done.”

the line goes dead after that.

you don’t realize how much time has passed since you went to go shower initially, only that it’s been a while, considering how urgently mina starts knocking on the door.

“baby, are you alright? you’ve been in there for half an hour!” you can’t find it in you to respond. all it results in is choking on your own words, coughing and sobbing and tears and this fucking headache.

you don’t want to be seen.

mina announces that she’s coming in, and conversation behind the door quiets down until you can’t hear it anymore. just your own thoughts. she opens it and finds you in the corner, your knees to your chest while you’re just barely dressed, hair soaking wet. crying feebly until she rushes over and asks what happened.

you show her your phone. the texts.

she wraps her arm around your back and helps you up. hands you a towel so you can finish drying yourself off, and picks out some clothes for you to wear. when she turns around, she’s greeted by the concerned faces of your friends. mirio.

her face morphs from a look of concern to pure rage.

“what the fuck!?” she all but snatches your phone away from you, to which you pull your hands back and cradle you legs again. “who the fuck does this asshole think he is?” she looks down at you just then, and sees the red in your eyes, the tear tracks that stain your cheeks and a few drops dripping off your chin. you need your help more than you need her rage and half hearted insults. 

“you yelled.” shinsou states plainly. “is everything alright?” mina approaches them and ushers everyone out, closing the door, presumably to give you some privacy.

you dress slowly, the few minutes feeling like an eternity before you’re reaching for the door handle, clean and feeling like shit, for different reasons other than a hangover.

when you emerge from your room, mirio gives you a hug.

a hug that you melt into. one that you weren’t expecting but squeeze him back just as hard, tears that didn’t quite make it out seeping into the spot where you press into his shirt. his arms are comforting and strong, rubbing and patting your back gently, until the room is silent beyond your heartbeat and your sniffles, your friends milling about in the background.

“he said i have to move out.” your fingers dig into togata’s shirt. “pack up all my stuff and leave but i don’t know where i’m supposed to go—”

there’s a smaller hand patting your back when mina speaks up.

“d-don’t worry.” you can feel her hugging you too, a special warmth blooming in your chest. 

“we’ll figure something out.”

while you’re leaving the hotel, mina makes a call to her girlfriend camie to explain the situation, and by the time you’re back in mirio’s pick up, she said that camie offered to rent you an apartment in her name. the earliest she can get it was by monday, so she offered to let you spend the night for a couple days as well. denki says that he and shinsou could help you with things around the house: shopping, redecorating, etc.

togata is the one who offers to help you get your stuff. you arrange the date for monday, actually exchange phone numbers, and meet up at 8.

it makes sense; his car has enough space in the back, you don’t have much of your own stuff, but you nearly regret accepting the offer in the first place. something about moving out with your … husband in tow doesn’t sit well with you. almost seems like it’s too soon. 

but mirio’s charming enough to make the whole ordeal seem less like a fever dream. you’re beaming at him by the time you’re all done, laughing and smiling and so infectiously happy. by the time you both wind down you’re out of breath, wheezing in the front seats of the car.

he smiles fondly at you.

you can feel your cheeks heat as you return the sentiment.

then both of you are back on the road. the musics louder this time, and you get to show him how shitty you sing; which he insists isn’t so bad after all. it’s after twenty minutes of this that you’re suddenly struck by the irony of it all. 

“i can’t believe our first date with you was me moving out of my exes apartment.” mirio chokes on his spit, cheeks bleeding red as he does a double take, eyes flitting from the road, back to you, back to the road.

“wait.”

“that was our date?”

𝔱 𝔞 𝔤 𝔩 𝔦 𝔰 𝔱 ;  @mitsusuri​ @okayshin​ @tamasoft

[casmybelovedass]

The Destiel Folder: Season 8

[Season 4; Season 5; Season 6; Season 7]

Oooohhh this is where things start getting JUICY

Episode 1:

Again, Dean copes with the idea of Cas not being there by lying to himself

Parallel from S6: Dean behaves exactly like he was while looking for Lisa and Ben, looking for Cas. "Where's the angel!" (16:57)

Dean clearly states he won't leave PurGAYtory without Cas (22:45)

Episode 2:

Since Dean has come back, he has been snappy with Sam and Crowley about Cas, but every time he remembers PurGAYtory, he is either looking for Cas or with him, and that's all he thinks of

Again with the paraparallels with Lisa and Ben (12:21), also "You'll find your angel there." (13:19) ICWAW, come on, do I have to point that out?

"There are some in Heaven who still believe, despite his mistakes, that Castiel's heart was always in the right place [...] I think... too much heart was always Castiel's problem." (22:25) Samandriel says all of this while looking directly at Dean

Look at that hug. Have we ever seen Dean hug Cas before? The gring on Dean's face. [This is so fucking funny too me, the "Nice peach fuzz" reaction to Cas' beard VS the Sam's "That's the most disgusting thing I've ever seen!" reaction in season 14] (23:21)

"I prayed to you, Cas, every night!" (24:37) Cas once again chose to leave/hurt Dean in order to protect him, even tho he really doesn't want to leave him. "There've been things hunting me. [...] I've a price on my head and I've been trying to stay one step ahead of them to... to keep them away from you." (24:54) Those fucking eyes kill me

Dean is willing to risk it all to get Cas out with him. "Cas, buddy... I need you." [yeah, let's see how well that ages on episode 17], also the little "Dean... " after that... BABIES (25:33)

That smile, those eyes... LOOK AT HIM. This is such a "You and me against everything" moment that, ICWAW, would be considered HELLA ROMANTIC

"I'm not leaving here without you. Understand?" (25:51) for fucking finally, also 12 seconds of STARE + LICK of the LIPS action. Oooohhh ICWAW... just imagine

Let us remember that all of this ⬆️, Dean remembers after Samandriel told him "too much heart bla bla bla"

"... [Kevin] thinks people I don't need anymore, they end up dead." (40:36) 'you', Dean? Only you? That's so much guilt you are packing. And immediately after he thinks about trying to save Cas from PurGAYtory and failing... Alrighty then

Episode 5:

I get why some people ship Dean and Benny, but they really do struck me as a bromance. When they call each other "brother", I believe that. With Cas, Dean pulls the "brother card" whenever he's opening his heart to him, basically "no-homo"ing it at the end. Weird right? (12:03)

Benny bitches about Cas being a danger to them because of the attraction monsters have to him, and Cas himself tries convincing Dean he has to leave him behind for his own good, but Dean is having none of that shit and is ready to die trying to save him (12:56)

FUCK MY LIFE we are getting flashbacks from both Sam and Dean, Sam about the time he spent with Amelia, and Dean about looking for, finding and trying to save Cas. I MEAN??!!! ICWAW you BET this would be seen as a ROMANTIC PARALLEL

"He's a friend." "A friend? Dean, you don't have any- all your friends are dead." "That's not what I called to talk about!!" Ouch (25:27)

Episode 6:

"I was in Purgatory." "Like 'purgatory' Purgatory?" "No, the one in Miami." ... that's a gay bar, Dean, how would you know? (11:23)

Dean's lying to himself about Cas letting go (35:32)

Episode 7:

Parallel to S1 Sam seeing Jess while in the car (2:31). Kill me. Also Dean allucinates Cas just like Sam did with Jess (10:15) band tries coping with it by repeating to himself that he didn't leave Cas behind

Every scene in Purgatory where Cas tries to reassure Dean that, if he doesn't make it, it's just the way it is, and Dean insisting he won't leave without him. "I'm just saying... if it doesn't work.. Thank you. For everything." (12:50) I'm dying

Cas comes back and all Dean does for the first few moments is check him out (16:16-16:21) He says he kept trying to reach for the boys, but wasn't at full power, tho somehow Dean was the only one who could see him. And Dean's eyes looking back at Cas (17:58) End me now

FUCKING👏BONER👏SHIFT👏 (20:38)

LOOK AT HIM!! He's checking him out, making THAT face and SHIFTING IN HIS SEAT WHILE PRESSING A HAND TO HIS CROTCH. THAT'S A BONER SHIFT. Look at Sam and then at Dean (20:44) One is a friendly fond reaction, one ISN'T.

ICWAW, we wouldn't even be QUESTIONING it!

The amount of checking out in this episode is crazy. Look at Dean checking out Cas. Look at his face! THE EYES (24:08) ICWA- OH COME ON DO I HAVE TO POINT THAT OUT?!

"Did you not trust me?" "Dean..." "I did everything I could to get you out. Everything! ... I did not leave you." "... So you think this was your fault?" OH MY GOD SO FUCKING #MARRIED LOOK AT CAS' EYES (28:06) ICWA- I'm not even trying anymore

So many soft shoulder touches (34:42) also HOT SCENE I don't know why "I'm going in." "Cas, no. You're not strong enough." (35:15) precious babies

"You could've gotten yourself killed. Why didn't you wait for me?" "Well, I didn't get killed, and it worked." "And if it didn't?!" "It would have been my problem." "Well, it's not the way I see it!" (37:36) #MARRIED they're SO MARRIED

Dean keeps blaming himself for Cas not getting out "I don't need to feel like hell for failing you like I've failed every other godforsaken thing I care about." SEE??! (38:16) Dean preferred believing he had let Cas down, something he is used to, than he had sacrified himself for him (38:48). Dean can't believe Cas thought he deserved to stay in Purgatory. Also THE WAY THEY'RE LOOKING AT EACH OTHER (39:38) And Dean's deeply hurt by the fact that Cas would leave him to safety and remain in Purgatory as self punishment for what Dean had painted as all Cas' fault. And he is full of regret (41:30)

Episode 8:

[How fucking cute is it that Cas wants to become a hunter. I'M SQUEELING]

They are so #MARRIED my heart ACHES (5:02) and the way Dean looks at Cas is so fucking SOFT. And 6 seconds of just staring and... well, Cas in general (5:13)

"What? I was being bad cop." "No, you were being bad everything!" (9:12) #MARRIED (12:04) I'm dying, they're so cute

"I don't sleep." "Okay, well, I need my 4 hours, so-" "I'll watch over you *puppy eyes*" (12:52)

"Hey, can you lift this?" sure, Dean, every excuse is valid to have Cas be hot by effortlessly moving an anvil. And see how Cas looks at Dean, like "Really? You even had to ask? I'll fucking show you I can lift this shit". Look at how he looks back side-eyes at Dean here (14:16), like he's making sure Dean is watching him being hot. I'm dead

This is such a fucking sweet moment [I mean, kinda looked like the begging of a porn at first] (16:01). Dean can sense Cas is not okay, and gets him to open up about his feelings. And when Cas admits being suicidal, Dean is speechless, not even being able to imagine such an outcome. Anyway, it is so fucking sweet that they're always able to show themselves vulnerable to each other

Shut up. Look at this scene (18:51-18:53). Mute the video and just look. This is Sam marrying Cas and Dean. PERIODT.

"You're so pretty, Charles. [...] You were quite the bounder." DEAN'S FACE (20:27) He's so in love, and immediately after he LICKS HIS LIPS

While Sam talks about running away from your problems (referring to Amelia), and having to wake up in order not to destroy everything, the pan focuses on Cas (35:33) Subtext, gentlethem, subtext. CAS, FACE YOUR FEELINGS. SOON

Dean's face when Cas says he's not coming back with them (38:16-39:21)

Episode 10:

I now this scene is supposed to be funny, but the way Cas looks at Dean AAAWWW (6:53-7:01) Also do you really have to walk so close to Cas, Dean? Do you? While CHECKING HIM OUT nonetheless?! (7:54)

Remember when in 7x01 Dean was totally comfortable watching porn in front of his brother? Well, Dean goes on and on about Cas being a "brother", but his fucking reaction to Cas being in the same room as him with porn on his computer, is BY FAR the same he has with Sam, hell he even keeps watching with Sam! (8:05) Is it because the last time he, porn and Cas were in the same room, Cas popped a BONER?

Random guy @ Dean: "Are you serious?" Cas: "*leans in to look at Dean* That's his serious face, yes." And Dean's reaction (12:59) SO FUCKING #MARRIED

Dean, that's not the way you look at a friend, or a BROTHER (13:38)

LOOK!! I swear to GOD ICWAW that would be seen as nothing other than CHECKING OUT YOUR CRUSH

"Hey, how about we say, if this doesn't pan out, we had back to that beer and bacon happy hour a mile back, huh?" Translation: "Since I'm starting to realize I might feel something more for you, let me take you on what is totally not a date unless you want it to be" (16:58)

(24:02) #MARRIED

Dean, will you stop checking out Cas during missions? (25:06) Same goes for you, Cas, don't check if your husband's got a boner for you being the hero here (25:08)

Since the start of this season, we've been getting parallels between Sam & Amelia and Dean & Cas. The flashbacks, the guilt for leaving the other half behind, and now Dean tells Sam he's jealous he got a chance at being happy with Amelia (37:32)!!! I MEAN- and fuck my life when I tell you there are parallels with the whole Sam-Amelia-Don & Cas-Dean-Benny thing. I'M TELLING YOU

Episode 11:

"Trust me, this life... you can't afford attachments. You just gotta... let go." "... Are we still talking about Sam, or did you break up with someone too?" (21:17) CHARLIE KNOWS. TELL HIM CHARLIE

Episode 13:

Bitch... Dean's reaction to getting publicly hit on by a dude, so not the one a straight guy, confident in his sexuality and masculinity, "no-homo bro" would have (15:36). Just saying, we have seen Dean turn down what he thought were avances, and other implications regarding his sexuality, with either sarcasm/humor or anger... this is new. Progress?! [Wait till we get to 15x7]

Episode 16:

[Keep in mind how Dean's bedroom looks. Trust me]

Episode 17: OOOOHHH BOI

Cas has been tortured, mind-fucked, obligated to kill fake Deans over 1K times, in order to be ready to kill the real one. Let that sink in

Dean prayed to Cas, I'm sure almost every night, and can already sense something is not right with him ever since he came back from Purgatory (11:31), but when Sam questions his prayers to Cas, Dean doesn't know how to respond. Like, what, do I need a reason to try and contact my crush?

"There has to be another way. [...] This isn't right! [...] I won't hurt Dean!" (29:51-31:00) "Cas, fight this! This is not you! FIGHT IT!" and he does. Cas fights it. [and as soon as Cas starts fighting back, Heaven tints with BI COLOURS! LOOK AT THEM WINDOW THINGY (31:16) OF ALL COLOURS]

Dean is on the verge of tears, kneeling in front of Cas, telling him "This isn't you!", and to fight. He is pleading. And by the end, bloody, hopeless, "Cas... it's me! We're family. We need you... I need you." and Cas stops. (33:13)

Cas breaks the connection Naomi had installed in him. Once again, when presented with the choice, he chooses Dean over Heaven. All of this because Dean needed him. And let's not forget Dean was originally ment to say "I love you.", and that would've been the reason Cas snapped out of the control. I MEAN ICWAW THIS WOULD FUCKING BE CANON

Dean, thinking Cas is going to kill him, clutches onto the coat's sleeve for dear life, to the memory of his Cas (34:21) KILL ME

"What broke the connection?" The look in Cas' eyes... "I don't know." OH YES YOU DO (36:15) and Dean's face when Cas says he needs to protect the angel tablet. Dean knows he's gonna leave again (36:23). ICWAW, this whole scene would be the UMPTEENTH CONFESSION

Episode 18:

"I'm fine. Are you okay?" "Me?" "Yeah. Cass dinged you up pretty good." "... and?" "And I just wanted to make sure you're okay." "...What, like, my feelings?!" "If that's what you wanna talk about, sure." Dean gets pissy pretty easily when talking about Cas, who left once again, and his feelings. Also, Sam knows, and he ships it. He's president of the Destiel Company (4:02)

Episode 19:

The thing with the Deanny relationship is: Dean is naturally affectionate towards Sam, and he expresses the same towards Benny. His relationship with the both of them is very very similar, while see Dean showing affection towards Cas [same as he does with Sam] only during extreme emotional moments. Dean is known for repressing his feelings, and having a tendency to maintaining a "macho" exterior. He shows himself vulnerable in front of Cas, but not enough for him to think less of Dean. So, think about it

Episode 20:

Charlie, a lesbian, who has only ever heard of Castiel through Dean, describes him as seeming "dreamy" while talking to Dean... GAYDAR ANYONE??!!! (9:16)

Episode 21:

"In the words of a good friend... 'bite me'." Cas is quoting Dean, and if I remember correctly, Dean will quote Cas' "ass-butt" later on (16:"10)

Episode 22:

I hate when Dean treats Cas poorly, badly, because he can't deal with his feelings. In the heat of the moment, Dean is always forgiving, helpful and caring, but as soon As things cool down, he goes back to being cold, bitchy and snappy, like nothing ever happened. Repressed mother fucker

The small flash of hurt on Cas' face when Dean ignores his "Good morning" (3:33) fighting coupleTM. "Dean, I can go with you. *is ignored* Dean... I'm sorry. [LOOK AT THAT FACE]" "For what?" "For everything." "Everything? Like ignoring us?" #MARRIED

Cas is buying porn, beer and pie to make amends to Dean. "Where's the pie?" "I think we're out." "*grabs store clerk* You don't understand. I need pie!" (14:50) they are so fucking #MARRIED

Episode 23:

This is such a sweet moment. Cas is about to close the doors to his old home behind himself forever, while risking getting killed by his own kind, and Dean is worried about him. They are sharing drinks while longingly staring into each other's eyes. This is so sweet. Also, Dean warned Sam he might not be coming back. Why? Cuz he would probably die while trying to protect Cas from other angels. To them, they are probably spending their last moments together, while looking at each other like THAT (22:38) And 5 seconds of STARES (23:10)

In love. Fucking fools in love, that's what they are.

This is so stupid but they have just witnessed a cupid matching up two dudes, after all of the above⬆️ (23:53) AND IT'S JUST FUNNY!! Dean is stunned and all, while Cas is complitely fine and professional (24:04-24:17-24:21) DEAN'S FACE

"Talk first, stab later." (26:21) Cas is like "Bitch, you talking? That was our first date!" #MARRIED

[I'll just leave this here (37:00)]

Now shit's getting real

[Season 9>>]

[crescentmoonrider]

oh man. after the first "seance" I can't imagine senjuro would feel so good. he wouldn't tell kyojuro about it out of guilt that he'd burden his brother further, would he?

[Haunted Hallway AU] [Office Work side]

the very first time Senjurou is asked to put his “gift” into use (and he still can’t quite get used to the idea of his sight being a gift, being something he can turn into a positive force), Douma plays things like he is the psychic, and Senjurou is just learning the ropes

the idea is to protect Senjurou in case things go wrong with the client, he says, and it makes sense. Douma is an adult, Senjurou’s employer, he is supposed to assume the risks, and he is the one who could afford a lawyer or whatever is needed if they get blamed for something. and this way Senjurou doesn’t look quite as odd, quite as isolated, even if it isn’t true

a few months back, there was a tragic accident involving a family of three driving home during a storm. now the single mother and her oldest son ask Douma if he can help them contact the little brother who lost his life under a fallen tree. they contacted him first on the phone, explaining the situation, and only then did Douma ask Senjurou if he felt up to the task. it wouldn’t be easy, and it was up to him to decide if he wanted to do it

Senjurou remembers that Douma has a friend with the same gift, knows that Douma could direct his clients to that friend and that he would never blame Senjurou. but Senjurou also knows that these people need help, and that he can do something for them

he can help

he accepts

a ghost this recent cannot leave his place of death yet, so they have to go back to the scene, the road with the single missing tree on its side, and it’s terrible, watching the mother and her son hold each other, trying to be strong for each other’s sake and failing utterly. Douma’s hand is on Senjurou’s shoulder, keeping him grounded, keeping him rooted, solid

the dead son, the younger brother, he sees his mom and his brother and he immediately starts crying. he spent a few months alone there, with no one to keep him company, no one to help him understand the situation he is in or the rules of his new world. and on top of that loneliness, there’s guilt, for dying and leaving his family alone, and fear that maybe they didn’t miss him, that maybe he was a burden because he pulled too many pranks and didn’t have the best school results

Senjurou takes a deep breath. he sees himself in that young kid, even if he is closer in age to the living brother, and so he reaches out this way. he understands, he gets it, look your family is here and I can help you talk to them, would you like that ? you’re lost, I understand, it’s always hard at first, you’ve been very brave

he sits by the side of the road with the ghost, Douma explaining to the family that since they’re both kids, he prefers to let his student talk with the child, to make it more comfortable. of course, he says, he’ll intervene if needs be, but they’re both good kids so it shouldn’t be necessary

in the end, the clients get relief, the opportunity to move forward in their grief, and to properly say goodbye. the ghost gets reassurance that he is loved, that he will always be loved, and the chains of guilt and fear finally let go of his heart and allow him to move on from this place

and Senjurou may tear up, but he knows it’s from relief

he did good

he helped

he has a gift

Douma and him don’t manage to reach the office, stopped as they climb the stairs by a bored Ume looking to play cards while she waits for her brother, and the three share some of Senjurou’s homemade cookies while Ume destroys Douma at koi-koi

when Senjurou goes home, he feels lighter than usual, and Kyoujurou asks if anything good happened at work

“I managed to help out a lot,” Senjurou says with a smile

[luminous-studiess]

Hi, i read your post on studying and mental health and just wondered. ..

I've been struggling a lot with that but seeing a therapist hasn't helped me at all. I feel like i was better of in high school where my answer was just - "well nobody really cares" - so i pulled myself together and moved on. But since i finished highschool (i ranked best) i just needed a break, i guess.

I started studying physics, which ended up terribly and than another year mechanical engineering where i didn't pass because of a 3.9 i stead of a 4 as my general mark. We/I can't afford taking a break from uni because reasons... but i feel like i'm just crawling trough these past few years without getting anywhere.

my familiy has kind of really hurt me and they used to be the only people i needed. trying to get extroverted to meet new people exhausted me and i kind of felt very stupid and it didn't really made me happier... but i feel really alone. Now i keep switching between "i need help", and "the help doesnt bring me anywhere, i must just finally pull myself together if i want this all to ever get better". The biggest problem is I guess- I forgot how to be me? Or maybe who i am and want to be... Did this ever happen to you?

I'm sorry i sent you this long text. I kind of just wondered if you would know any advice on that... but in any way, thank you for having read my messy message and i wish you a good week

hi, friend-- don’t apologize. and sorry for the late reply. i’ve been off(ish) tumblr for school and health reasons, and haven’t been able to answer messages.  first. it really is a common part of life where there will be set periods -- especially when you’re struggling with mental health problems, or have been through difficult things -- that there will be this incredible numbness. it’s something that everyone goes through (in fact, i was going through it just last week and went through some really weird and painful thoughts), and in a way, while it is hard, it is a good opportunity to re-evaluate or even change how you see yourself and what you value. or, alternatively, you can use it to slowly find what you used to love. this process takes time. what i do know is that you can’t really do this alone-- you may need to talk to people you completely trust, to draw some things out or to clear up some thoughts or self-perceptions that you find messy or unhealthy. you don’t have to be an extrovert. you can just ask someone you find kind and caring.  it also helps to slowly and gently guide yourself through things you used to love. this doesn’t have to be anything intense or serious. you can go through old hobbies or old passions or fandoms or games or books you liked when you were younger (full disclosure: this is what ive been doing over the past few months, and it helped!) and. you don’t have to feel the exact same way you used to about them! that’s the magical part. either you may feel some old, deep love, or maybe some distance from things you used to like. now ask yourself: what has happened to me, and what do i value and like now to make me feel differently about this thing i used to like? what does this say about what i’m passionate about now? then write it down. make lists of what you care about or love at the moment-- anything from apple juice to folk music to graphic novels to a new show. go over the journal on days when you feel lost as a reminder from and a conversation with your past and many selves.  i think that’s one trick to knowing who you are, and who you want to be, without examining what you want to do or be (professionally, or what kind of person you’d like to be). i do assure that all that will come back slowly, over time, over several difficult or happy moments. you’re not supposed to have everything figured out at the moment-- but finding things (and people) that bring you joy amidst whatever can happen to you becomes a part of you. i promise you, friend: you’ll find out where you need to be someday. finally: i’m so sorry that you’ve gone through very difficult times and terrible people. you’re really strong to have made it this far. i know you can keep going, and my message box is open if you want someone to talk to. take care always.