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#he didn’t have that upbringing
voiceofsword · 1 year
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Speaking of Shiina parents, do you think they'd have another kid? Like they come home one day and now Niki's a big bro
ill admit its not something ive thought about, ill say no because the thought of them having their own little family while they left niki alone depresses me shskdhsksg
it also reminds me of a character from like fire force i think where a kids parents go into debt so they make up that they’re going off to save the world and ditch their son….but then it turns out they were just in hiding and had like 3 other kids while this character thought they were off fighting evil and idolized them for it AND IDK IT JUST MAKES ME SAD? L
niki would probably laugh it off and be an amazing big brother but man it’s one of those moments where hes probably thinking oh i was a bother so that’s why they left me and had another son… :(
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fauvester · 2 years
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“you SHOT me!” newsflash asshole, he’s into that!
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redladydeath · 4 months
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You know, I’m surprised (well, maybe not surprised, but kind of disappointed) that everyone seems to think Alastor had an abusive father. I’ve always gotten the vibe that his father was just never in his life at all; maybe his maternal grandfather was there, but that’s it for male parental figures in his early life.
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marchfall · 1 year
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Jason Todd can either keep fighting Bruce for his daddy issues or continue projecting is mommy issues on him. He can’t have both. He needs to chose one!
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fagtainsparklez · 1 year
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i finished the remaining episodes of oshi no ko today and honestly. it did get a bit better. i think episode six is a VERY strong and emotional episode that does a great job of establishing the new characters and the reality of their worlds, as well as acting as good social commentary about the entertainment industry and how much is real vs fake and the way reality shows twist the truth to fit their narrative. was very excited for episode seven to continue on that same level, and then. well. aqua happened.
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Fuck you Young Royals for forcing me to go through this painful process while patient notes keep piling.
I hate you. Except I don’t. ❤️‍🩹
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galaxy-of-me · 1 year
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buddy daddies makes me cry for the first time holy shit
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thedeadthree · 1 year
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SUFFERING IS A TERRIBLE FIRE; IT EITHER PURIFIES OR DESTROYS. [template by @unholymilf ✧ | icons ✧]
#oc: vharion#metroid oc#for the audience of me and my besties and mutuals <3 INTRODUCING THE FIRST OF THE BELOVEDS#i was going to do the other cast members but i don't have fcs for them yet and i just finished prime and was like I GOTTA YELL jsjaa#this is also a part of my master plan to get y'all to play it and make clowns so my clowns can have besties hehe <3#these clowns have been on my heart since i was like? little? a little bit emotional about them returning to the fold !#scheduled q#tungle mucked with the quality but he’s my baby and i love him 🥀❣️😭#(i also meant to schedule this akajjzjz but it’s fine 🥀)#he couldn’t wait hehe <3 🥀#he turned back on so much for those he loves to learn they thought him a monster anyway 🥀😭#he aided in the overthrow of his father bc the empress would have zeroed his betrothed for starters!#and becoming the minister of the yllic forces of zebes and trying to zero THEM was another thing :’)#(he wasn’t trying to he was under the impression s*amus was the catalyst of his suffering?)#(like he wasn’t aware her memories were erased and blamed it on the Hunter. his brother who he didn’t know WAS his brother ->#he thought was a traitor (there’s a whole other thing on his brother but!) )#and the thing is they were both raised by the c*hozo and are two sides of the same coin him and the hunter!#they SHOULDNT be enemies but events and upbringings later on made them that! they should be besties!#a bit of a commercial break from the t*lou and a*soiaf dears for him <3
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shekeepsmeworms · 1 year
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Had some wine feeling good made a really shitty bowl in ceramics class this morning that I’m really worried has a bunch of air holes in it and had a really crappy therapy session where I didn’t talk too much but was honest about some other stuff which is good overall I guess but now I’m doing drunk crochet and watching the Duggar family documentary and probably going to stop watching soon once they start talking about the awful stuff but yeah day in the life of a woman doing her best I guess
#like both sides of my family are either Irish catholic. converted assimilation catholic. or part Jewish but raised catholic.#but my mom read the Boston glob report so I wasn’t baptized or anything and despite her born again phase I’ve never really been religious#so the thought of growing up in that environment is like I can’t imagine the pressure oh my god#like I’ve had Mormon friends and have some friends who were raised homeschool Christian married young and all and like#i don’t know it’s just wild how different our lives are like I’ve got a problems and def inherited the guilt complex thing for sure but like#I also never got told to submit to anyone or that god was watching#or to be modest or any of the purity stuff beyond normal patriarchy stuff#like I’m not saying my life is better but I didn’t do church after age 5 and only go to funeral masses so I like the comfort of like#doing sign of cross and saying Hail Mary and all bc it provides structure for grief but beyond that I can’t imagine living with all of that#these are very long tags with no real point beyond wow. that’s literally bananas to me. but did I mention I’m a little drunk#and even then my family isn’t like hardcore catholic. my grandma and her siblings skipped church to get donuts bc no farm work on Sunday#and my dad grew up like doing fasted mass and everything but heard the 2000s Harvey milk speech and realized gay ppl are okay#and then rest of extended dads side is like catholic but vote blue and think human rights are good and all#my mom has a student who’s like very traditional catholic like she was trying to teach him math and whatever#and the live coverage of waiting for pope confirmation was on tv the whole time#and he fights with her about evolution and learning about the existence of other religions and everything#so I guess even in my own family like. everyone’s down with basic science and civil liberties which is even weirder for me I guess#like not even among fundamentalists like just regular Catholics I’ve had a pretty liberal upbringing re faith. it’s just wild to me#to see the differences of worldview#and even non religion stuff was pretty liberal overall despite living in pretty red area. idk it’s just wild how different life can be
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daydreamerdrew · 1 year
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Whiz Comics (1940) #2
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yachl · 2 years
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when ppl watch csm and are like “omg im so uncomfortable with how denji is being treated/groomed” like yeah that’s the point….. you’re supposed to feel sickened by this entire system
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weloveagayboi · 5 months
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OP turned off reblogs but it is so important to me that you all realize this isn’t just bullshit people online say. I have had real people really say to my face that because I am a white person I am automatically racist and then tell me that the only way to “solve racism” is to enslave white people the same way black people were enslaved and then get MAD AT ME for telling them that oppressing the oppressors doesn’t make anyone less oppressed.
And I wasn’t the only white guy in the car when this happened, but I was the target because I’m “all white” and he’s only “sorta white” because he was like 1/4 Puerto Rican
And all 3 of these POC agreed that I, the white guy arguing that slavery is bad, was in the wrong. The insane fucking behavior of real people has me fucked up. It’s bad enough that people say this shit online but don’t fucking spout your fascist bullshit to real people. Don’t look at a real fucking person and tell them that, biased on your predetermined beliefs about them, they deserve to be enslaved. That’s insane behavior, you don’t know anyone well enough to tell them you think them and everyone who looks like them should be slaves.
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harleybarbarahandler · 9 months
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I finished watching pan am and my biggest takeaway is that if laura did agree to being with ted while he was married to amanda then i give it five months before she’s also just dating amanda as well
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targaryenluvs · 7 months
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DELICATE
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pairings: dark!coriolanus snow x innocent!wife!reader
warnings: erm we’re back at it with another dark corio! possessiveness, literal murder, threats, vulgarity, nc touching -dumbification/babying, emotional manipulation and vulnerability, sexual undertones and thoughts, ownership?? NOT PROOFREAD
summary: coriolanus had to marry. lucky for him one of the most eligible girls of the capitol was up for grabs. only problem? he hoped his cold exterior would keep her away but nothing broke her sweet spirit. what happens when he finds himself being drawn to her light? and how far was he willing to go to keep it untainted and all to himself?
word count: 2.09k words
a/n: i swear i can only think of dark ideas for him because he is practically crayz - i loved this concept tho so enjoyyyy - annoyed i can’t find any post-lucy gifs snd i’ve already used the other one help me plz
taglist: @sleepydang @aspieundercover @darktrashsoulbear @3lliesrifle @rafeysbafey @zejjef @themorriganisamonster @cryfordemie @winterblu2 @earthangel-111 @taylarxse @alexameliamg @katastrophic04 @jjggdfvvy @joshwifeyslaymamaballs @10ava01 @kis9na @princessdaella @princessloveweird @prettybiching @justacaliforniandreamer @bxtchopolis @witchafterz @har-rison-s
PART TWO
coriolanus wanted nothing more than a relaxing night. he’d been at a campaign meeting for about four hours and he’d gotten absolutely nothing out of it.
he was in the right mind to fire them all and work it himself but he knew he couldn’t. all he wanted was to go home, have a bath drawn for him, eat dinner with you and go to sleep.
coriolanus had seen a number of weird things in his life but nothing was weirder than seeing you, hanging up the laundry to dry. you’d stopped him in his tracks but hadn’t yet noticed his presence as you hummed to yourself and went about your business. after staring in confusion for a few minutes he cleared his throat, “y/n. what are you doing?” you turned towards him with a smile, “it’s christmas! so i sent the staff home for the rest of the day so they could be with their families. don’t worry i had them prepare your bath, dinner and everything else. there were some things left to do so i thought, why not do them myself? i cleaned my room and yours, ironed the previous batch of laundry and placed them away, dusted the library and i was hanging up the laundry until you showed!” you beamed as you continued to hang the clothing.
coriolanus took a seat on one of the lawn chairs as you continued. he decided to watch you, to make sure you were okay. because who on earth wants to do laundry? that was the very reason you had so many servants. but here you were.
“you can head inside corio, no need to wait for me!” you said sweetly. coriolanus was a strong man, always rational. but god when you spoke so sweetly to him- no. “there’s no need, i’ll wait till you’re done.”
the sun was hanging low as the last rays illuminated the dining room. you’d set out candles, flowers and other pieces on the table. back home you loved setting the table, until your father would reprimand you for doing something you didn’t need to. what will people say if my daughter is acting as a servant?
but right now you felt at ease.
you had a good life. good friends which were rare to find in the capitol. good family and a good husband. he was proper, took care of you in every way, even if he didn’t love you, you were grateful to be married to someone you liked. admired. you’d heard whispers of corio’s childhood, his depleted resources and poor upbringing. but you couldn’t care less. he was more of a man than anyone you knew. and he was extremely pretty, your parents would’ve probably married you off to whomever they thought would help with social standings so this match? a lifeline.
coriolanus kept himself in check. he was up for presidency, his name and wealth restored and he was respected and feared. you were a diamond in the rough. whilst all the other girls in the capitol were, special, to say the least, you weren’t like them. first of all, he could tolerate you. like you even. you were exceptionally smart, well-read and spoken, respectful of those worthy but even those beneath you. you were kind, not the fake kind of the capitol. kind to everyone, helping everyone however you could.
and to him it was more than perfect. someone kind would be easy to have, easy to be married to. he knew from the second he saw you as marriage material that you’d never endanger those around you. you cared, enough to put your happiness to the back of the line. you’d be easy to control. after the wedding he expected you to be clingy, desperate for his love and affection. as any girl would from their husband, but you kept your distance. you didn’t push yourself on him, you did your duty. you did what was required and more. but you always listened, listened to him.
so he assumed you’d be easy to be married to, but he was always in awe of you. your sweet smiles every time you passed eachother in the halls, in the morning at breakfast and at night for dinner. always catering to him.
“what should i wear?” “you can choose.” “you tell me.” “it’s your choice.” and god did it inflate his ego. you were always asking about him, how his day was, what he did, who he saw etc. but it wasn’t just small talk, you were always listening. absorbing his words like a sponge, wide eyes, head nodding along dumbly. he loved it. and over the year he found himself, caring, on the inside at least.
every time you’d go out there were hungry eyes consuming you. your face, body everything. and he wanted to personally pluck out each eyeball and feed it to their families. so again, overtime, he’d shield you, protect you. his sweet wife who knew nothing of what the others wanted to do to her. a hand on your back, an arm around your waist, a peck on your forehead and his large red coat around you. all for show right?
he wanted to puke.
the smell of cabbage wafted to his nose and he was oh so close to putting this fist through the wall. who on earth-
you were humming, again. “corio!” your voice was music to his ears, corio, no one said it to him anymore. not even tigris. but he only liked, only wanted it to come from you. “dinner is served, some of your favourites are here. i asked tigris what you use to eat as a kid. ooh, you never told me you liked cabbage, me too! guess that’s another thing we have in common.” you beamed as you walked over with a bottle of wine, “tell me when to stop.”
he eyed you up the entire time. trying to catch a fleck of disgust whilst you ate, andddd, nothing. you weren’t lying, you actually liked it. he swallowed his own fear and began to eat.
“mm, i was wondering what you wanted me to wear tonight? i’d like to match corio, if that’s okay with you.” corio smiled slightly, “i would like to match. i have something i would like you to wear tonight sweetheart.” your eyes darted forwards as the word fell, sweetheart.
you couldn’t help the smile that came to your face, he only used terms like that in public. and based on his reaction afterwards, of which there was none, it meant that he probably didn’t even realise. or he did, you could never read him.
the red dress did things to coriolanus. the idea of you in it has his head spinning, but to actually see you in it? he wanted to throw you onto his bed and never let you out.
but to you it looked as if he was studying the dress rather than looking at you in it. “you look good.” you grinned, “thank you corio! i love your suit, you look very handsome.” you straightened his suit as he looked over your shoulder, your back was bare. “do you have a throw?” you quickly nodded and picked it up from the dresser. “good.” you already got a million stares in ordinary clothing, tonight was going to test his patience and anger.
the gala was gorgeous. for once there wasn’t ugly statues and weird color matches. a clean and pristine white hall, chandeliers, gold accents.
your heels clicked on the floor as coriolanus held his arm for you. “your hand please.” corio stared, waiting for your further explanation. “when we link arms your arm is too high for me. i end up with my arm at my neck.” you laughed as he lent his hand, which you gladly took.
stares and compliments at every corner of the room, everyone was looking at you two. the future president and first lady of panem. a match made in the capitol. you and coriolanus made the rounds, talking to present sponsors, potential sponsors and other candidates, much to coriolanus’s distaste. after a while you realised you were sort of just standing there, so you excused yourself for a drink and a closer view of the band.
“you look, ravishing.” charles operman. a sight which no one wanted to see, but to you he was just an ex-peer of the academy. “charles! thank you, corio picked it out for me.” you’d missed the way his jaw clenched at the mention of your husband, but you were to engrossed by the angelic singer and band. “you know, i always thought we’d end up together.”
the abruptness of his sentence had you choking on your drink, “excuse me, i’m married charles. i’m sorry if you thought that we would be together, i see you as a friend. i’d hate to lose a friend.” you smiled as he got uncomfortably closer and leaned into your ear, hand on your bare back.
coriolanus’s grip on his cup was tightening as he listened to lucky drone on and on. he wanted to see the life leave charles’s eyes, maybe his head would make as a nice present for you. “excuse me.” he nodded his head as he placed his cup on a passing waiters tray. you were helpless, and he was here to help you.
his breath was hot in your ear and you could smell the liquor on him as he was grabbed from you. “coriolanus, sir.” charles mocked salute as coriolanus stared at him, maybe he thought if he stared long enough hed burn into the floor. coriolanus rarely smiled, but this one was unsettling to say the least.
“if you ever put your hands on my wife, look at her, speak to her. it will be the last time you do so. i might just call in a favor with dr gaul, i hear your fond of snakes?” charles’s eyes widened, he hated snakes. he couldn’t even watch the 10th hunger games, the second he saw the snakes he ran to the bathroom and hurled.
“when i become president, you better keep yourself in line. it’d be horrible to see your family in the games no?” charles took a step back, “you can’t do that, i’m capitol.” coriolanus drew back,
“you won’t be for long.”
you couldn’t believe your eyes, of course he’d protect you but, threatening? he’d never do it right? the shutters of cameras had you reaching for corio, “can we leave my love?” coriolanus turned to you, “of course sweetheart.”
he’d stayed up for a long time. a smile came to his face when he remembered the sound of charles’s neck snapping. the door creaking open revealed a disheveled you, “corio? are you awake?” he sat up as you released a breath.
“what is it y/n?” you took a shy step forward, “i uhm, i can’t stop thinking about charles. he scared me, i didn’t know what to do corio. i-” you couldn’t stop the tears from falling as coriolanus swiftly got out of bed, helping you into his bed. “i- can i sleep here tonight? please?”
this was definitely not how he first expected to have you in his bed, but how could he say no to you? your hair in its braid, messy and lose, puffy eyes and tear stained face. he wished he’d first seen you cry underneath him but he’d take what he could get. what he didn’t expect was for him to like this, the scene of you crying, needing him. he was the one who could help you, console you, coddle you.
coriolanus nodded as he moved back to the bed, tucking himself and you in softy, caressing your hair and kissing your forehead. god he’d held out for so long, denied himself and his feelings but having you in his arms was all he could ever want, but the idea of being in you flooded his head.
would you cry like this? would you shout and scream? did you like it soft and sweet? he couldn’t be soft and sweet, he’d savour the moment but he loved the idea of unravelling you, he’d be the only one to see you like this, him being the only one to make it happen.
you curled into his chest, like a baby. your soft cries and whimpers went straight to his crotch and soon enough you were asleep.
his sweetheart, his delicate little wife.
corios hand slipped downwards and into your pants, he promised himself he just wanted to feel but god you made it difficult. he saved you tonight, didn’t he deserve a reward? didn’t matter if you detested he had you where he liked. so he slowly rolled over and placed you on the bed.
your eyes fluttered at the change of placement but he couldn’t care less. he was done waiting.
you squirmed underneath him in your sleep but his worries faded away.
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oldbookist · 2 years
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I was working on a history paper today and found a book from 1826 that seemed promising (though dull) for my topic, on an English Catholic family’s experience moving to France.
And it ended up not really being suitable for my purposes, as it goes. But part of the book is actually devoted to Kenelm, the author’s oldest son…and man, his dad loved him.
Kenelm seems to have had a fairly typical upbringing for a young English gentleman, although he is a bit slow to read. At twelve he’s sent to board at Stoneyhurst College—often the big step towards independence in a boy’s life, as he’ll most likely only see his parents sporadically from now on, and then leave for university.
When he’s sixteen, however, his father moves the whole family to France, so Kenelm gets pulled out of school to be with them again. Shortly after the move, his dad notices that he seems depressed. Kenelm confides in him that he’s been suffering from “scruples” for the last eighteen months—most likely what we’d now call an anxiety disorder.
And his dad is pissed—at the school, because apparently Kenelm had been seeking help there and received none, despite obviously struggling with mental health issues. So his dad takes it seriously. He sets him up to be counseled by a priest—there were no therapists back then—and doesn’t send him away to be boarded again, instead teaching him at home himself.
And his mental health does improve. His dad describes him as well-liked, gentle, pious, kind and eager to please others; at twenty he’s thinking about a career in diplomacy or going into the military—which his dad thinks he is not particularly suited for, considering his favorite pastimes are drawing and reading. He’s excited about his family’s upcoming move to Italy, and he’s been busy learning Italian and teaching it to his siblings.
Henry Kenelm Beste dies of typhus at twenty years, four months, and twenty-five days. That’s how his dad records it. That’s why his dad is telling this story. It’s not an extraordinary story—Kenelm’s story struck me because he sounds so…ordinary, like so many kids today. And he was so, so loved. His dad tried hard to help him compassionately with his mental health at a time where our current knowledge and support systems didn’t exist. You can feel how badly he wanted his son to be remembered and loved, to impress how dearly beloved he was to the people who knew him in life.
I hope he’d be glad to know someone is still thinking of Kenelm over 200 years later.
Anyway, that’s why I’m crying today.
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