#alcohol IS poison and that's something I've thought about a lot in my framing of it for myself and generally

[kaurwreck]

fav chuuya trivia: he’s a lightweight and a wine collector. combine it with the fact that poisons a weakness for him, ability wise, and too much alcohol is in fact poison. he chooses that often.

bonus: combine that with the fact that dazai’s coming of age came with going to a bar, and i don’t know what that means

anon cause shy

Untitled I. My dear, even though you treat me kindly, I'm stubborn. After we parted last night, I went drinking and berated some weakling. This morning, Waking up, I remember your kindness And sadly reflect on my vile behavior. And now, I, a total fraud, will here confess that, without shame, Stripped of all dignity, and therefore lacking honesty— I was urged on by my own illusions, raving mad. [...] III. In this world we sadly live in like this, your heart— Don't let it grow stubborn my dear Because I hope for intimacy with you Your heart— don't let it grow stubborn my dear.

[Excerpted from Poems of the Goat, written by Chuuya Nakahara, translated by Ry Beville]

[sarah-dipitous]

Hellsite Nostalgia Tour 2023 Day 98

Swap Meat/The Poison Sky

"Swap Meat"

Plot Description: While investigating a school, Sam is the target of a teenager's body-switching spell

Would I Survive the First Five Minutes??: No one died.

"I would like to purchase and alcohol please" this kid who has freaky friday'd Sam is already precious to me. Sorry. This kid...is me when people roughly my age are subtly dropping hints that they're flirting. This kid was already a gigantic nerd (affectionate), but now he has Sam Winchester's frame to match the...giant-ness...i have an English degree...

Look...*I* know Sam and Dean are taking this seriously and aren't bad guys, it's obvious their old babysitter and her husband know that, too, but even if a poltergeist carved "murder (child)" onto my stomach, if i were a teenage girl, I'd be really uncomfortable about having to pull up my shirt to show that to the 26 and 30 year old strange men in my house.

I know this isn't a McDonald's but remember when McDonald's had those salads you shook??? What a weird time...

That kid just hit Sam with a blow dart and knock him out??

This kid has NO IDEA what he's gotten himself into. Also, could this have been a weird loophole to the whole Lucifer Wearing Sam to the Prom problem? If it's not really Sam in there/if it's Sam but not his body? Just something to consider

Sam. These are a lot of judgements...they might be accurate, but fuck you anyway

Why does this kid's dad loo like Great Value Tom Wambsgans?

Is this going to end up being one of those "you better appreciate the brother you have" episodes??

Kiddo...you gotta be way better at being Sam. I wish we could see Jared say these lines, though...

WHY DO THESE KIDS WANT TO KILL DEAN???? Omg...these kids are idiots playing around with LITERAL DEMONS

It was purely a breather episode, which is oddly nice to get with the fate of humanity on the line. Yes we got some small info drops, like apparently, you don't have to be Sam's consciousness to consent to being Lucifer's vessel. You just need to be in Sam's body. Seems worrisome.

"Been On My Mind...": Does it count if it's Sam's body but not his mind??

"The Poison Sky"

Plot Description: With planet Earth choking under the poison sky, the doctor mus stop the Sontarans' threat to the planet

I would have HATED to wait a week to see them get Wilf out of the car.

Evil Martha doing evil things.

[Insert "I've Had Enough of This Guy" meme here re: Rattigan]

I don't like that so much of Martha's time was taken up with jealousy over Rose, and now in order to...I dunno, make it up to her? She's hopping in on a WHOLE bunch of Donna's adventures. And I know part of that is David getting ready to leave, too, but still...5 out of 13 episodes Donna gets without someone who is, was, or will become important to the Doctor tagging along. 4 if you count the fact that Peter Capaldi's appearance in The Fires of Pompeii gets added into the canon of the Twelfth Doctor.

Literally every fucking time this fucker opens his mouth, I feel like he's an Musk stand-in but from like 2 years after twitter launched. His tantrum over how clever his is after everyone from his institute leaves, everyone he chose to continue the human race after the Sontarans killed everyone else. He had a MATING PLAN AND THOUGHT THAT WAS NORMAL.

Moms fucking HATE the Doctor lol

I love how much the Doctor believes in Donna <3

YES YES YES, GIRL. Whack the Sontaran with a fucking hammer

NOT THE "ARE YOU MY MUMMY?" REFERENCE

This...probably shouldn't work exactly the way it is. I'm no scientist, but I feel like setting fire to even just one toxin overtaking the whole Earth's atmosphere would have a much larger effect

The Doctor saves the whole day, avoids dying, and Donna hits him upon seeing him again. Love them

I'm gonna cry SO MUCH at the 60th anniversary special, won't I? I just love Wilf a lot.

[fmdtaeyongarchive]

↬ i beg you, don't be disappointed with the man i've become.

date: december 5, 2017 (d-7 to album release)

location: knight’s dorm

word count: 1,705

summary: honestly idek. ash hates himself. he’s doing great emotionally. 

notes: depression tw. mentions of alcohol abuse. mentions of weight loss and vaguely(?) suicidal thoughts tw. i lost the original version of this para back in october so i finally rewrote it and gave it a makeover to be relevant now.

“I wish my family and friends, they stay healthy I wish that love was a currency and the whole world was wealthy I found myself late night wishing on a star Everyday I wish I'd never broken a heart.”

when his manager said ash’s new schedule would be a lot busier than it had originally been, he hadn’t been kidding. for the past month and a half, it’s been the same. ash spends all day in the studio recording either for his album, or a portal single, or one of knight’s albums, and then he has concept meetings for music videos and photo shoots and stages, and they’re all pointless because they rarely consider his input anyway. there are days ash leaves with a success to his record for expressing his own vision, but they’re rare and he wonders how he can feel so stifled when the music on the album itself is so intrinsically his work, from his lyrics to his music to his voice.

today is a good day, at least. recording for his album is long done and the meetings are only about promotion concepts now. nothing today directly contradicts his own vision, so he celebrates the small victory in his mind as he leaves the bc building.

as decent as his day has been, when he gets back to the knight dorm for the day, he wants to be alone, so when his phone starts to vibrate on his bedside table, he plans to ignore it. when he looks down and sees a face time request from ‘mom’, though, he has no choice but to pick it up. there hasn’t been a time since he debuted that he got to talk to his parents enough and it’s been even worse lately with his busy schedule.

“mom?” 

his mother’s face appears on the screen and she looks just like she always does, somehow both put-together like the magazine editor she is and as relaxed as the free spirit he knows her to be. “ashton! i’m glad i caught you. you’re not busy now, are you?”

“no, mom,” ash answers, angling the camera to show her where he is before bringing it back to his face. “i’m just at the dorm. i’m not doing anything.” he’s unable to keep himself from smiling at seeing his mom’s face and hearing her voice. he sees her disappear off-screen for a few seconds before his dad joins her in the frame.

“son!” his dad bellows with a wide grin, before it falters with what ash reads as concern."you look like you’ve lost weight. you’re losing those signature kwon cheeks that made your mother fall for me.” ash sees his mom roll her eyes and the homesickness hits him all at once. “your mom and i have been watching your award shows performances and you’re getting really thin. they better not be starving you over there.”

“all i do is eat, dad. you know me.”

“are you sure? you’re starting to look as thin as you did last year, kid. you lost a lot of weight back then.”

the mention of the previous year makes ash shift on his bed. as open as his relationship with his parents is, he’s never found it in him to tell them more than the basics of what had happened last year. they didn’t even know he’d been put on antidepressants and gone through endless sessions with his therapist. they didn’t know he’d lost all of his passion and desire to exist like air knocked out of his lungs after a blow to the stomach. he knows it’s not a big deal and it’s not really a secret and they’d be supportive and want him to be healthy, but he doesn’t want to worry them. they’re too far away to do anything and it’s not their problem.

his mom seems to notice his sudden discomfort and traces the path of the conversation away from his dad’s train of thought.

“do you think you’ll be able to come home for your birthday and christmas this year?” she asks.

“mom... i...” he doesn’t know why he’s hesitating. she has to know the answer. he knows her, which means he knows she only asked out of the tiny shred of hope that it would be different this year. “my album’s coming out and i’ll be promoting over christmas.” his voice takes on a melancholy tone. “i really wish i could, but you know i don’t get a say in it.” he has no control over the circumstances, but guilt begins to bubble in his chest anyway.

“we’ll send your gift in the mail, then,” his mom says with a smile that doesn’t quite reach her eyes. ash knows his parents miss seeing him. likewise, he misses them more than he could ever convey to them. he misses home. no matter how long he lives in seoul or how many friends he makes there, it will never be his home.

“so, ash..,” his dad speaks up with a more awkward tone after a few seconds of silence in which the guilt only continues to eat away at ash. “you know we don’t usually read all the rumors about you, but we saw they’ve been popping up again an awful lot.” it’s a topic ash has dreaded having to discuss with his parents. “you’re doing okay, right, ash? you’re so young, kid, and we know you have a different kind of pressure on your shoulders than most kids your age do, but we don’t want you to let all of that get to you,” his dad says and ash barely holds back a bitter laugh. can they really not tell that it got to him a long, long time ago? “we know who you are, son, and it’s not any of the hate you get. you have a lot of love to give and you’ve always had a kind heart. we’ve never questioned that.” the words should reassure ash, but there’s something about them that makes him feel like there’s a but coming.

and it does come.

“but you’re not... drinking too much, are you?” of course they’ve seen the video from back in tokyo. if they keep tabs on him, they were bound to. he just hopes they haven’t read the comments. ash deserves all of the harsh words he gets, but they don’t deserve to have to read them. they don’t deserve to realize that despite all of their best efforts, their son has turned out to be someone so unlikable and flawed beyond repair.

“i’m an adult. i can drink,” he says with as much conviction as he can muster. there’s nothing wrong with him having a drink, but that doesn’t keep him from feeling guilty every time he resorts to getting so drunk that he can finally feel something close to numbness. it isn’t fair for him to be numb when so many others have suffered because of him. the poison eating away at his soul is his punishment and yet he’s so weak, he tries evade it. the guilt he’d felt earlier from not being able to visit home for the holidays has spread to his whole body now.

he can’t look into the screen of his phone anymore and a silence hangs in the air of his room. in the quiet, the urge to drown himself in the calming sea of liquor creeps up on him again and, god, does he hate himself for it. he wonders if instead of his punishment being his own pain, it’s his inability to disappear into thin air. the only way he could possibly hope to atone for his mistakes is to let everyone live their lives free of him before he can do something else to hurt them.

his parents deserve to have a good person for a son, but he doesn’t know how to apologize for the fault of his existence.

instead, he clears his throat and blinks back tears threatening to wet his face. “um, hey, guys.” his voice nearly cracks, just like he can feel his composure doing. “i know i said i wasn’t busy, but i forgot to do something important before i came home. i actually have to go, sorry. it’s a..,” he wavers, “a work thing.”

ash can see the disappointment in his parents’ faces and although he knows it isn’t directed at him, he thinks it should be.

“okay, well, i love you, ashton,” his mom says first. her sadness at their short conversation weighs heavy on his heart.

his dad adds, “yeah, we love you. stay healthy, okay, son?”

ash nods wordlessly, fighting back the urge to tell them he doesn’t deserve their love. he knows they’d argue to the contrary because they’re good and loving people. much more so than he’s ever deserved. “i love you guys. talk to you soon.” his response is quiet and he gives them a forced smile before ending the call and tossing his phone to the foot of his bed.

the tears come as soon as there’s no one to see them, but ash fights hopelessly to hold them back. they feel like stinging acid running down his cheeks. they’re tears he shouldn’t be shedding. what has he done to earn the right to be sad? so many have it worse than him, yet he has the audacity to cry. tears have always come too easily to him because of his selfish need to release his own pain.

he rubs the soft fabric of his sweater over the damp skin under his eyes as he reaches over to turn off the lamp on his bedside table. he feels the darkness blanket the room and then slowly creep into his heart as he rests the side of his head against his pillow and curls up into himself. a puddle of dampness from his tears forms on the pillowcase, but he doesn’t notice. he tries to fight back all of his thoughts, to let his mind go blank of any intrusion without the aid of liquor. it’s not as easy, but nothing ever is for him lately.

he doesn’t remember falling asleep, but eventually he gives in to the thoughts prodding at his mind and, exhausted by his own crying, drifts off into a dreamless sleep with only the hope that it will all be better when he wakes up. that he will be better when he wakes up.