#idk when the best time to post is anymore and this has sat in my drafts for a while now so here you go tumblr!!!

[noah-price]

PARKS AND RECREATION 4.04 — PAWNEE RANGERS | DELETED SCENE

[gloxk]

“Mary Jane.”

Gojo satoru ~

Summary: Your best friend was a snake. She slept with your boyfriend at a party. Everything shattered when you saw them. Your heart broke, leaving you with hatered and resentment. But two can play that game. Didn't she know? Karma’s a bitch.

W/C : 2k+. READING TIME: 10 minutes.

Setting: Modern Au, Reader is in their 20’s.

Song inspo:The best I ever had (Limi)/ Birthday S*X (Jeremih)/Drunk in love (The weekends version)/What you need(the weekend.)

A/N: Happy kinktober. It’s been a minute. (I've returned just for this years kinktober) idk i’ve just been busy fr. I haven’t been writing at all 😭. But I was on tik tok right, and i saw this lil video abt a story. So yall know those reddit stories? Bro this story was fucking outrageous, i tell ya. So boom bro got cheated on by his gf and she slept w his best friend. I was like damnnnnn 💀 ain’t no way. So bro turned around n fcked his ex best friends sister. The crazy thing is HE RECORDED IT. AND HE SENT IT TO BRO. I got carried away w this one. (I was high asf.) But anyway please enjoy! My grammar might be fucked up i didn’t feel like prof reading. Mdni/ageless blogs you will be blocked. 17+.

Warnings: F/M relations,Jealousy, angst if you squint, friend dumping, lewd behavior, DRUGS & alcohol. (mary J) mentions of Ex, BJ’s, Male receiving, unprotected sex (I got a little nasty w this one)

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You sat there disappointed in your dry phone. It was like looking at a blank screen. The night was cold, dark, and quiet. Everything was different now that you cut off your toxic-ass best friend. Deleting all the pictures and videos of you two. All the happiness and laughter y’all had shared just for it to be ruined in a few hours. The incident only happened a few days ago.

You decide to scroll through your alt account’s Instagram feed hoping to see something interesting. Something interesting indeed popped up. A little green circle around your ex-best friend’s profile picture. “Curiosity killed the cat ya’know?”, It surely killed you as soon as you clicked it. She was with your Ex. Your face scrunched in disbelief. You couldn’t help but muster up a pitiful laugh. What was going through her goddamn mind? Did she know the alt belong to you? Was the random pinterest boy profile picture not convincing enough? You nearly tossed your phone to the ground you felt tears bubbling up in your eyes. You remember the whole thing like it was yesterday. The horrible things you said to each other. But one thing she said in particular stuck in your head. “You aren’t even together anymore! Why the fuck do you care Y/n?”, Those were the last words she said to you, the last words you needed to hear to leave her alone. It hurt you so much, the girl you known from middle school betrayed you.

It was late maybe around 11 pm. Your mind was filled with anger. You couldn’t stop thinking about it. You told her everything and she did the same. You two grew up together. When you introduced your boyfriend and best friend they hit it off. They were so cool with each other that it seemed like a dream come true. Having your best friend actually like your boyfriend was extremely rare to come by. Your dream came short-lived after you found them fucking in a bathroom at a party. It hurt so fucking bad. You clenched your shirt trying not to cry. That night broke you, you lost everything in 4 hours. All it took was a couple of shots and one blunt to have your whole world crash. In a fit of rage, you decided to go through her entire Instagram feed. Scrolling through every single post. In a recent post from earlier today, you saw a dump of her stepbrother. All of the pictures were silly, cute pictures of him. You couldn’t lie, he was fine as fuck. You saw her stepbrother a couple of times when y'all were younger, but god did puberty hit him good. He was tall and muscular with a sharp jawline. He has white hair and beautiful ocean-colored eyes. He had a couple of arm tattoos as well. You sat there trying to remember his name. You looked over the caption trying to find something leading to him, the caption read: “HAPPY 19th BIRTHDAY @satoruxgxjo! I hope 19 treats you good lil, bro :).” That was his name! You finally remembered him. Satoru gojo, it was definitely moan-able. You DM’D him almost immediately.

(Y/n): “Hey! I saw your birthday was earlier and I wanted to wish you a happy 19th birthday!” You didn’t know what you expected him to say back to that. You didn’t know if you wanted him to immediately block you or text you back. Maybe if he blocked you would be able to move on and heal. But all you wanted was revenge. After two minutes you got a notification from Instagram. (satoruxgxjo): “Yo, I appreciate it. it’s been a minute. How have you been?” A smug smile arose on your face. You instantly texted him back. (Y/n): “I’ve been amazing. Recently I had just got some za from a friend and since it’s your birthday maybe we can roll up?” You watch as your text goes from Sent to Seen. Your heart immediately went faster.(satoruxgxjo): “Lmao? That was quick but sure. I don’t mind. Addy?” Your face was sinister. If he could see your face right here probably think twice about his current decision. You sent him your location, (Y/n): “I mean it’s not like we don’t know each other Saturo, just pull up :) We can catch up!”, You were so happy that this was gonna work out perfectly. (satoruxgxjo): “Who is Saturo? It’s Satoru* n I’m otw.” That happiness quickly faded into embarrassment. How could you forget his name already? You repeated it 10x to remember it, while repeating his name you quickly got up and rushed upstairs.

You dressed yourself in a loose shirt that hung off your shoulders, your chest was the only thing holding it up. Underneath you made sure to treat your guests to an easy reveal no bra and pink Victoria's Secret lace panties. Your hair was messy letting little strands of hair frame your face. You rushed downstairs to set everything up, you grabbed an open bottle of Hennessy and accompanied it with a jar of bud including a pack of Raw’s. Everything was set for the most part. You dimmed the lights and played some sensual music. You turned your TV on to some random Netflix show to make it seem casual. You soon turned your attention to the door as the doorbell rang. A wicked smile placed on your face, your hips swaying to the music. You opened the door and smiled at your victim—I mean visitor. “Heyy~.” Your voice filled with a welcoming tone. Luring him in like a fisherman. “Hey, Y/n.” He had a basic white shirt on, and his muscular body filled it out nicely. His lower half was hidden behind grey sweatpants, He had on white cross that were no longer white. His tall frame continued to tower over you. He sounded so nonchalant, but his blue eyes told a different story. He couldn’t stop looking at your bare shoulders. “Come in hun.” You moved out of his way and motioned him to the couch. The table caught his attention immediately. You made your way to the kitchen swaying to the beat of the music. “Henny? Whatcha got this for?” He picked up the bottle with an eager smile. “Why else Satoru?” You winked at him. Watching him open the bottle and pour himself a shot. “Well, Hopefully, it’s not for little ole me. God, you wouldn’t make such a silly mistake and give an underage boy Hennessy? Right?” He asked mocking you. A smug expression on his face. You couldn’t wait to wipe it off. “Oh of course not! I would never do such a disgraceful thing. But..I won’t tell if you won’t.” He threw his head back and he gulped down the shot of liquor. The burning sensation only made him crave it more. “You know I don’t kiss and tell.” He chuckled as he watched you sit down on the couch. He soon followed you and plopped down beside you. “You ever rolled before?” You looked at him as you picked up the grinder. “Nah, I’m more of a pipe or hookah person. Ya’know?” You giggled at him. He was falling into your trap without even knowing. “Lemme show you how to roll then.”. You took him through the basic steps. Letting your hands guide his. After a few attempts, he was able to get a good enough roll for a beginner. “And now ya gotta lick it.” You bent over his lap using his muscular arm to hold yourself up. You dragged your tongue over the paper making sure to seal it. You took the joint from him and began to light it. His eyes watched you dangerously. After a couple of pulls, you handed it back over to him. He pulled a heavy hit making him cough. You poured another shot for the both of you. Handing him a glass of liquor. “Oh? Is that for me? How kind.” Your hand sat between his thighs. “Of course.” He took the glass and knocked it back, and you followed his lead.

You weren’t slightly drunk nor were you high. But you couldn’t say the same for Satoru. He almost finished your bottle of Hennessy. His head was between your neck and shoulder. He was mumbling incoherent nonsense, you didn’t particularly care what he was babbling about. He was lying between your legs using your chest to keep him propped up. His hands rubbing your thigh, “Mm..please.” He mumbled desperately. “I told you not to drink too much Gojo. Now look at you.” You laughed as you rubbed his head. “.. I know. m’ sorry. Please y/n. Please.” You were confused you didn’t know what he was asking for to be quite frank. “You should get an Uber to take you home.” You nudged him to get off of you. He didn’t budge at all. His eyes looked up at you pleading with you. “I don’t wanna go. I wanna stay with you. lemme stay.” He was so whiny while he was drunk it was pissing you off. “Okay, you can stay.” He hummed softly in response. “upstairs?” You whispered in his ear, he nodded his head. You moved off the couch pulling him off with you. You walked him up the stairs to your bedroom. He was stumbling up the stairs you had to hold him up. Making it to your room in one piece was the hardest part. Opening the door his hands never left your body, If anything they became more needy. His fingers roamed around your back as he began to tug at your shirt.

You grabbed his hands telling him to stop. “I don’t know...if we should do this...I’m sure your sister wouldn’t like this.” You smiled as you pushed him on the bed. Of course, she wouldn’t like her brother sleeping with her ex-best friend. But that made it more exhilarating. Satoru groaned at your words. Bringing up what you and his sister had going on at a time like this was a low blow. “Don’t fuck with me Y/n. You’ve been touching me all night. Saying little shit to me. I’m ready now, and you’re gonna act like this?” You heard the frustration in his voice, looking down at his gray sweats pants you saw what else was frustrated. You laughed at him. “Oh look who’s mad at me. I’m just trying to respect you and your sister's relationship.” Your hands go under his shirt and rub his abs. He laughed as his arm covered his face. “Ah, so I understand why she called you a conniving bitch now.” Your smug face was quickly wiped with confusion. “Oh…Yeah? She gonna think I’m more than conniving after this.” You grabbed him by his hair pulling him closer. Your lips clashed against his, you could taste the intoxication on his tongue. The kiss became sloppy fairly quickly. His hands continued to roam over your back. He followed your lead not allowing your mouth to leave his. He yanked at your shirt, he wanted to pull it off of you. Sitting on his lap, you took off your shirt and tossed it to the side. His hands went up to cup your breasts. His fingers ran over your hardened nipples, his expression was darkened with lust. “So fckin pretty.” He sat up leaving kisses on your neck and chest. You assisted him in taking off his shirt and tossed it over to yours. Leaving kisses on his neck and slowly moving downward to his chest. Taking your precious time with him. He was so impatient, whining if you didn’t kiss him. You used your finger to trace his v-line teasing him enough to push him. You got up and slowly removed his sweatpants leaving him in his tight boxers. Licking your lips at the sight, it was a delectable sight indeed. Tracing the bulging print through his Ethikas. “Oh my god…” You stuttered in disbelief, this man was packing. Satoru felt you tugging his boxers, he lifted his hips and allowed you to yank them off of him. The cold air hit him drawing out a long sigh. Those blue eyes watching you with a dangerous glint, those eyes screaming out for you. “don’t play with me Y/n.” He whispered, almost as if he was begging you to make him feel something. You seated yourself between his thighs, looking at him with awe. Your hands running up and down his hardened dick. You gave him kitten licks on his tip, licking away any pre-cum. He growled at the teasing, “C'mon.” his hand caressingyour cheeks. You smiled as you quickly put your mouth around the tip and bobbed your head up and down.

His tip hits the back of your throat every time. Satoru’s hand pushed your head down so he could feel you deep-throat him, “Fuuucckk, just like that.” You pulled your head back with an angry expression. “Nobody likes a head pusher.”, You glared at him. “Nobody likes a fucking teaser.” He mumbled. You laughed at his audacity as if he was the one in control. You slipped off your underwear and climbed on top of him. Letting him slide in slowly, inch by inch. You threw your head backward, rolling your neck. Low moans escaped your mouth as you felt his hips grinning against yours. “Go faster.” His tone completely shifted from whiny and desperate to frustration. He wanted more, He needed more. It wasn’t enough for him. You looked so pretty going up and down on him. His eyes watched your body lift itself off of him and right back down. Your nails dug holes in his chest, “That fuckin’ hurts Y/n.” He gave you a sadistic smile as he dug his nails into your hips. You shrieked in pain. You could quite literally feel his nails penetrate your skin. That didn’t stop you though, you couldn’t care less about anything other than cumming. Your mind became foggy and filled with a certain haze. “Mm. Keep going. Dnt stop.”, Those words left Satoru’s mouth, his thrusts were sloppy and no longer had rhythm. His fingers found their way to your clit and played with you to make sure you came before him. Your moans filled the room as you were so close. You stopped as you finally reached the bliss you been begging for, panting heavily trying to regain the breath you once had. The feeling of warm liquid filling you was a slap in the face. You soon realized you didn’t use protection. You looked down at Satoru whose eyes were closed with a smile of his face. “Oops, m’sorry i’ll get you a Plan B in the morning.” His hand gripped your ass while you sat there in disbelief. How could you fuck up this bad? You smiled as you seen him cover his face once again, “Don’t worry about it. I have some in the bathroom.”. You got off of him and made your way to the bathroom.

When you came back you saw sleeping Satoru, under your sheets wrapped around your blanket. It was a cute sight to see him so vulnerable, you were about to fuck up his life. You crawled into bed next to him, cuddling him. He turned around and placed his head between your breast, his arm wrapped around your lower back pulling you close. You took out your phone and took a couple of pictures. This bitch was gonna know “Fuck my man, I fuck your brother.”. You unblocked her number to send her a little treat. “When Satoru comes home tomorrow tell him I had a wonderful time. (3 attachments sent).”.

You turned off your phone and cuddled the sleeping boy, kissing his forehead and cheeks. “Mm, she's gonna fuck you up when you get home.” You whispered in his ear. His phone was soon blowing up, From his mom and sister. “I don't care, you don't know how long I've been waiting to fuck you.” He muttered under his breath. You laughed, He wasn’t going anywhere. Not just yet.

[xerith-42]

dude. xerith. idk if you saw my reblog of madcatlad’s post, BUT. they cooked. the issue on the table: nether withdrawals. i’m insane about this.

very much exploring the idea of the calling being more about fighting the addiction that is the nether itself for shadow knights, rather than purely the aggression part.

thoughts? musings?

Oh Cinn, oh Cinn you've brought my attention to something beautiful.

Little known fact about me because I'm still pretty decent about over sharing on the internet, addiction is something I've actually thrown hands with before. The idea of the Calling as an addiction to the Nether?? Now that's a concept I can latch onto.

I think that there could be ways to satiate withdrawal, but not in an exactly helpful way. The Calling is in Shadow Knights brains like "Oooh you wanna kill your loved ones and come back to the Nether soooo bad." But minor acts of violence and arson can make it shut up. Enough bloodshed, such as what happens at the Werewolf Wedding, is enough to make it so a knight isn't drawn to the idea of killing their loved one anymore because the urge for blood has been answered. Of course... Most Shadow Knights fighting the call aren't exactly happy when something like the Werewolf Wedding happens to them.

As for the urge of the Nether, they could always try to answer that with things that are like the Nether or remind them of it. Sitting by a fire, setting things on fire, sitting in a pool of hot water that can at least try and simulate lava, setting things on fire, existing in the bitter dry heat of an Arizonan morning, or setting things on fire. The Calling always responds best to the most violent solution, and even while trying to satiate it, it's still pulling at the mental strings of a knight to make the most violent decisions possible.

That idea of being able to sit by a fire instead of setting something ablaze really sucks for Knights who might have been traumatized by the Nether and struggle to be around fire for very long as a result, Laurance.

A lot of moments of a premature Shadow Knight lashing out aren't necessarily because the Calling is making them want to kill, it's because it's making them want to go back to something they know is bad for them. It's a drug that they've overdosed on and are trying to run away from still present in their veins and urging them to take another dose, regardless of its lethality. That kind of mental gymnastics and battle wears down at a person even when they aren't actively fighting. Even if they aren't in their head fighting the Calling and it's urges, it's still there. They still think about it.

Laurance doesn't want to go back to The Nether. He would rather die again than go back there. But when he sees the frame of a portal, when he's nearby one that's unstable, he has to fight. He has to fight his body and its urge to go back to that hell. Just one hit will make him feel better. Just a chance to touch netherack and breathe that ashy air will soothe his worries. Because being reminded of the Nether, even if it causes a trauma response, does cause a part of his brain to feel good. The Calling sees fire and gives him a shot of dopamine and excitement.

Wouldn't it just be so nice if he went back? If he didn't have to feel this constant drain? If he was in the Nether then the Calling would shut up, right? Wouldn't it be so amazing to just feel this good all the time? He's already dead, what damage can be done to his body afterwards?

Of course the Calling has two components, both addictive. One is of course the urge to go to the Nether. The other is that urge to kill your loved one and gain immortality. Doing one only makes the other feel stronger. Oh, you sat next to a Nether portal and made it so you're now comfortable in the over world? Bet you wanna kill your lord right about now, huh?

What's that, you actually killed your lord? Well, don't you just wanna come home to the Nether where you're surrounded by people who have all done the same and won't hate you for it? Go on, you know you want to.

Like everything else, it comes down to the Shadow Kings need to control. If he can make Shadow Knights into addicts of stuff directly associated with him, they'll be more loyal. They'll serve him to get a fix of bloodshed and hell fire. They'll come running back to him after ruining their lives for his enjoyment, and they'll fall at his feet for the chance to become a higher up in their army. He deprives them of everything they ever could have had and calls it freedom.

[3rdmeasurement]

Heeeyyyy, I'm so so intrigued by your hockey posting. I'd love to know more about Fedorov, like what's the lore, what makes him special? Have a nice day/ night <333

good morning/afternoon/evening anon! since you asked so nicely i'll try my best but i do tend to forget everything i know when i have to actually explain it. there is a lot of lore tho so i'm not gonna go over all of it (mainly the bits that interest me the most + some other stuff). i guess what really makes him special (at least to me) is the fact that we don't get players like this anymore. and i'm not talking playing style here (the impact of euro hockey players of the 90s on the nhl today is still so obviously there). a lot of his early career was directly impacted by cold war politics, and since those circumstances haven't existed for a while now, we don't get this insane type of backstories and lore anymore. i should also make it clear that i'm a massive nerd who sat in classrooms for years learning abt soviet stuff which i think definitely has an impact on who My Guys are

seriously there is a lot under the cut so be warned because i did get carried away with myself A Lot (i literally wrote over 1k words on this. sorry in advance)

ok so. sergei started playing "pro" hockey in the soviet union in the mid 80s (i don't think this is the place to explain whether these players were pro or amateur so will leave it like that), first in minsk (only for a year) before being picked up by cska moscow- the central army team. these guys made up most of the national team, which can probably be explained by the fact that their head coach also coached the national team (god that's a bit of a mouthful, but incredibly relevant). he wasn't the only rookie on the team that season; another kid (i think they were both like 16 at the time ?) called alex mogilny had also just arrived in moscow. they would become good friends. sergei would play three seasons for cska before being called up for the national team- he was going to the 1989 world championship. alex would be there, too, having already played on the team before. naturally, the ussr won gold (as they did almost every year). but that doesn't mean everything was good with the players. not long too after the tournament, some of the older players would finally get permission to play in the nhl, but for the younger guys it was looking like they had no way of getting out any time soon. in the days between the end of the championship and the soviet team's flight home, mogilny apparently approached fedorov and asked him to go to america with him- sergei said no, worried about what would happen to his family. alex would go anyway, disappearing for a few days before popping up in buffalo ready to join the sabres. (this might seem irrelevant right now but it's actually really not- i'm getting there now)

that same summer, sergei would be drafted in the fourth round by detroit. this choice may or may not have been influenced by steve yzerman telling them sergei was better than him. after a bit of back and forth, they got him to defect after cska played a series of games in north america. it literally sounds like the type of shit they write in spy films it was fucking mental. this made him only the second soviet to defect in order to play in the nhl i'm pretty sure (defo the second in like 18 months- funnily enough it was his bestie who was the first one. what a coincidence), but they weren't the first two from the other side of the iron curtain to do that. might be wrong but i think that honour goes to the stastny brothers. anyway. when sergei got to detroit he wore 91 because he wanted to "be like stevie" or some insane shit like that. which i literally think about all the time. like seriously what was that about sergei.

okok can't not talk about the russian five so doing that now. since idk how much you know about hockey i'll do a better job on this bit. after sergei arrived in detroit, management must've figured they could get more russians. over the next couple of years they got vladimir konstantinov (who was drafted the same year as sergei) and slava kozlov to make the jump to the states. since i'm mainly talking about sergei i won't go into how they got those two but it's just as unbelievable as you'd expect. after the 1994-95 lockout, the wings traded for another russian- slava fetisov. if you ever want to learn about soviet hockey you'll hear a lot about this guy, and for good reason too. he won two olympic gold medals and seven world championships with the soviet union, and captained most of those teams. obviously adding a guy with that much experience winning was a smart choice imo, even if he hadn't won anything in the nhl yet. by now the wings had four russian players- why not add a fifth ? in 1994 the wings were embarrassed in the playoffs, losing to san jose. it just happened that sj happened to have two of the older soviets who had fought for the right to play in north america. one of them was igor larionov- probably the smartest guy to ever play hockey. it was his tactics (and refusal to change his style of play) that led to his team's success in the first round. and i guess detroit didn't ever want to deal with that again because they ended up trading for the guy in the first part of the 1995-96 season. the russian five first played together in calgary, where they played that style of soviet hockey that nhlers could never really wrap their heads around at the time. they walked all over the flames in their own building, and would continue to do the same to the rest of the league. the five would be a key part of the 1997 stanley cup-winning team, which was the first wings team to lift the cup in over forty years.

sergei stayed to win a few more cups, and then left the city. he signed w the ducks in anaheim, bleached his hair and moved out to california (i think we can all resonate with wanting to change our appearance and move thousands of miles away from where we've spent over a decade building out lives amiright). from what i can tell, this move was Not Liked by detroit's owners (honestly i can't see any other reason his number hasn't been retired there). he'd bounce around a couple more nhl teams before going back to russia to play on the same team as his brother, eventually retiring in 2012.

jumping to 2015, that year's hockey hall of fame inductees included sergei (and nick lidstrom, one of his detroit teammates and one of the best defencemen to every play the game). it was basically a 90s wings reunion. in sergei's induction speech, he did like everyone else and thanked a bunch of people who helped him out throughout his career. and, you know, it was all the expected stuff (hockey guys can be so predictable sometimes), but "to my captain, steve yzerman" still fucking gets me. it had been twelve years since he'd worn a wings jersey. my captain. i think you get my point but i'm gonna have to stop there because i can't carry on and be remotely normal about it.

oh and in 2021, after spending a few years bouncing around random jobs for the team, cska announced that fedorov would be taking over as head coach. he went back to the team where all this started. now i don't know how exactly he is with his team but i sure hope he learned enough from his days there as a player under tikhonov on exactly how not to treat your players. cska won back to back gagarin cups (the trophy awarded to the khl team who wins the playoffs) in sergei'd first two seasons behind the bench, and they're probably looking to make it a threepeat with the playoffs starting today (?)

[zukkaoru]

Do u have any kunidazai or kunichudazai fic recs at all? Seeing ur posts I wanna dip my toe in but would love to read any faves u have also!!

YES YES YES most of these will be oneshots bc that's mostly what i read + rated t or g unless stated otherwise. the rest are under the cut bc this got (expectedly) long lol

kunidazai:

let Hope die by degradedpsychotic

Dazai smirks at him, in the process of filling the rice cooker. "Need help?" Kunikida exhales, and it takes the form of a bitter laugh. "That's all I ever need anymore."

4.3k words, post-decay of angels arc. dazai and kunikida are learning to navigate the world with injuries that they will never fully recover from (dazai w chronic leg pain + kunikida w chronic hand pain)

the tragic (pony)tail of dazai’s downfall by sarcoline_sails

five times Kunikida has his hair down, and one time Dazai ensures it stays that way.

6.6k words. exactly what it says on the tin

Piled Up by KhaoticEnby

Kunikida gets sick in the midst of a busy time at the ADA. Dazai, just back from his mission, tries his best to help him

3.4k words, established relationship

sure it's a calming notion (perpetual in motion) by saffroncassis

the one where Dazai digs himself a hole, and then just keeps digging deeper.

5.3k words. instead of admitting he likes kunikida, dazai says he just wants to have sex with him. because when has dazai ever been honest about his feelings? (there's no smut, but there are references to and jokes about sex)

but in that uncertainty, i found you. by warsfeil

In which everyone gets injured and two inept individuals wonder about the meaning of partnership.

3.4k words. dazai gets injured and kunikida worries; then kunikida gets injured and dazai worries

kunichuuzai:

thin ice over a monstrous depth by luminariums

Chuuya and Dazai are fifteen years old when Kouyou insists they learn the art of dancing. It shapes the way Chuuya views his relationships - until Kunikida comes along and flips his whole world upside down.

8k words, chuuya-centric, part-character/relationship study and part-getting (back) together. this fic focuses mostly on the kunichuu and skk dynamics since it's chuuya-centric but ohhhh it is. SO good

all brutal mirrors cracked by intimatopia

The one in which Dazai and Kunikida are swapped into each other's bodies by a mirror, and then their day gets worse.

12.4k words, dazai pov with established skk. THIS FIC. oh my god this fic i read it through like 3-4 times within the first week i found it. it's such a fascinating take on the body swap trope with good angst and a happy ending. i can get really picky with dazai angst but this. this fic. this fic does it RIGHT.

Listen to Your Heart by 4_the_tainted_sorrow_21

Kunikida gets used as a pillow for his boyfriends, but he finds he doesn't mind it very much.

1k words, kunikida pov, established kunichuuzai. very short and very sweet. they just get to cuddle <3

Cover Me In Chamomile by ChaoticQuill

Kunikida has a bad day, and his boyfriends take care of his portion of the chores.

6.7k words, kunikida pov. getting together/developing relationship + domestic kunichuuzai

A Trick of the Tongue by AbsoluteNegation

“Just because I lie all the time doesn’t necessarily mean it’s my fault I was cursed to tell the truth,” Dazai said indignantly and automatically. They both sat there while that statement unfurled its full glory before them.

47.5k words, 9 chapters, dazai pov. part character study, part getting (back) together. dazai is cursed to tell the truth, which he takes exactly as well as you would expect. but everything works out in the end <3 warning: this fic is rated e with smut in chapter 8 (i believe it's just that one scene with implied/referenced sex in the epilogue/ch9 but the smut can definitely be skipped)

and idk if you've read them or not but here are my fics as well:

warm leftovers

after the threesome, kunikida and dazai take chuuya home

2.1k words, chuuya pov, established kunidazai + pre-kunichuuzai. personally one of my favorite bsd fics i've written i think

desperate prayers of a cursed man

dazai can't remember the last time he slept through the night. if anyone were to ask, he'd say it's not a problem. but when the rest of the world is asleep, humanity is a hard thing to come by.

4k words, mostly a dazai character study with background established kunichuuzai tbh

though i burn, how could i fall?

kunikida assumes the position of agency president. somewhere between shaking hands, pastry boxes, and dazai leaving the door open, he learns leadership also means knowing when to take a step back and trust others will help you shoulder your burdens.

8.8k words, kunikida-centric. spawned a series that currently has two other fics but since this is the first, it can easily be read as a stand alone. features kunikida with hand tremors and dazai with chronic leg pain + crutches

if you look back and you hate my past

dazai contemplates his (lack of) humanity while kunikida tends to his wounds

3.3k words, dazai character study, pre-kunidazai with nods towards past skk. i wrote this after i finished reading dazai's entrance exam light novel and had a breakdown

the sound of love 

kenji gets sick. luckily, he has a lot of people who are looking out for him.

4.5k words, kenji-centric with established kunichuuzai mostly in the background but there are soft and sweet moments with them so i'm adding it too

i'm probably forgetting other fics i've read and enjoyed but this is long enough as is so i'll just leave it here skgfhgjhk hopefully you can find some stuff in here that looks interesting 🫶

[satankilledmyghost]

heey, i hope you are well. May I request a reader who's like a little sibling to the union boys? Maybe they saw the reader kick some ass in a street fight or something idk. Thank you!

anon, your brain is just- *grabs head n kisses brain*

i really let this sit here and age like a wheel of cheese 😭. little sibling reader has built a HOME in my brain and my drafts. i just think all the union heads collectively and silently agreeing that this one random ass kid is worth whatever tf happens to them and makes it their business to actually reach out to them in a humane-ish way is such a silly goofy thought.

i use "loved ones" to describe friends. this is a platonic setting, no romance.

warnings: gn reader but angled more towards fem, horribly described mentions of a totally badass fight scenes, swearing, mentions of injuries/blood

union’s "younger sibling" fighting

Today was your breaking point, you couldn't just not do anything anymore. You don't even understand how it started. Well, you do, but the reasoning behind her actions was elusive and probably imaginary. You had started a new school year and there was this girl in your new class. From day one, she had something against you.

Her pestering started off small. Snide, glossed over remarks that were so vague, you honestly thought that you were being self centered for thinking they were about you. But then there were the side glances, upturned noses, and bubble-gum blowing cherry lips spreading lies about you like there was no tomorrow.

Again, she started small so when your friends told you what they heard, you weren't too bothered. But you guessed that your lack of a reaction pissed her off even more. Rumors that you were poor and that you got into this public, low-level school on tuition help, turned into you slept with someone and then kissed another in an alleyway. Hell, one rumor that you supposedly murdered someone went around. But that could've been the one that you started in retaliation, who knows?

This girl was petty, and you tried to be the bigger person, but god was it fun to be petty back once you gave yourself a little bit of wiggle room. You taunted her at her own games, having fun leading her down another dead end once she thinks she's got some actual dirt on you.

If there's one thing all of your friends know about you, it's that you don't have any tolerance from anyone attacking your loved ones. ever. That's why, when you caught her talking shit about your best friend quite loudly while looking directly at you, you lost it.

Donald Na

He hadn’t been there to witness you lunging yourself at the girl and nearly ripping her scalp off, but your sour, pissy mood, and kingsley’s media report of someone posting the fight told donald everything he needed to know. Your face was impassable and your brows were furrowed as you sat on donald’s couch in the office. You weren’t in trouble with him, you were originally on your way over to his office, but it sure looked like he was about to bite your head off. “I heard that you had an eventful trip here, would you like to talk about it?” and then you’d spend the next hour ranting to donald all about this bitch and how you’ll kill her next time you see her. Donald just leans back in his chair smiling cause he’s so proud that you had your own lil street fight :)

Kingsley Kwan

It happened when you were with kingsley. You two had been out n about, mulling over what to do with kingsley's rare free time. It only took a millisecond for you to process what she had said and you were already chasing after her throwing out profanity's and insults. Unlucky for you, kingsley was with you and immediately tried to hold you back. You were spitting venom at this girl, who kingsley didn't even recognize, and struggling to get free. Kingsley had to physcially drag you away with the girl looking at you like you had rabies. You only calmed down when she was out of your sight and it took a whole 30 minutes to regulate yourself with kingsley's help. He asked you what the fuck that was. He'd never seen you so pissed off and ready to throw yourself at someone. You eventually gave in and told him about her, and when he asked why you hadn't fought her before and decided now, in public- where you could ruin your reputation- was the best time to do so. You had dumbly looked up at him, blinked, and said, "she talked shit about you," like it was the most obvious thing in the world. Kingsley had a weird, warm feeling for the rest of the day from knowing you'd put yourself in danger for something as stupid(in his opinion) as his reputation.

Jake Ji

This boy has NO idea how to react. Whether he should reprimand you or be somewhat proud, he couldn't decide. You had promised to meet up with him for some one-on-one time since you two haven't hung out in a while. He had just walked around the corner, expecting to see you waiting for him, but instead was the sight of you straddling this random girl, throwing insults and your fists in her face. He immediately ran over and pried you off of her. You were fighting him like a cat until you heard him say your name in your ear. You relaxed enough for Jake to let you go, and stepped back so you could look at him and the girl. She was still lying on the ground, holding her face with one hand, sitting up with the other, and staring wide-eyed at you. "You're a fucking psycho." She whispered. You just glared at her, "You're the one who asked for it. You brought Jake into this." You spit, crossing your arms. "Hold on, what happened?" Jake asked, turning to you. You never broke eye contact with the girl while you responded. "This preppy bitch has been on me all year, which was fine, until I came here and saw her with her friends. I wasn't planning on doing shit, until she talked louder than a cow about you. Then I confronted her, she repeated what she said, and then I hit her. Her friends went that way." Your head nods towards a direction. Jake takes a moment to silently process, looking between you, the girl still on the ground, the damage to her face, and the direction you pointed out. It's almost a minute of silence when the girl started to speak up. "You know, I don't know why you're even hanging out with this lunatic, I'm-" she had no time to finish what she was trying to say cause your fist was already back in her face. She screamed, you insulted her, and Jake dragged you away. When you got around the corner, he let you go with a shake of his head. "What the hell, I don't even know what to say." You shrugged, "good, then don't say anything. You know how tolerant of people I am, just not when they're attacking my family. I wouldn't have hit her without a good reason. Plus, I had just jumped her when you came. She has daddy's money, she'll be fine." Jake just looks at you, stuck on the word you called him: family.

Wolf Keum

100% encourages your fight. He'll be walking around, maybe looking for you, maybe not. He had a free day. Wolf comes across a small group of girls screaming in an alley, they all look about your age. At closer inspection, he noticed the uniforms they were wearing were from your school. He thought it was interesting, but not enough for him to stop, so he moved on planning on telling you about it ifwhen he saw you. Wolf's almost past the group when he spots a familiar hair color. He stops and does a double-take, making sure it was you who he saw. When he confirms it, his interest had peaked tenfold. He saunters over to the circle, none of you aware of him yet, and he gets a good look at what's going down. When you had originally initiated the fight, you weren't expecting any technique from this girl. You had underestimated her and have the bruises and cuts to prove it. You two were tussling, using fists, legs, hair, and anything lying around as a weapon. Wolf had become amused, so he lit a cigarette and leaned against the alley wall to silently watch. Wolf wasn't aware that you could fight, let alone hold your own. He found it fun to see you eventually get the upper hand and beat this girl to the ground. When she was done, you let her go, but not before spitting some vile words at her. She was about to respond, when Wolf had pushed himself off the wall and strolled up to your back. You still weren't aware of him, but the girl shifting her eyes to something behind you, widening them, and then shutting her mouth and running off with her friends, told you someone was there. You watched them go, recognizing the person behind you was Wolf. He had this oddly calming aura to him, but more of the insane type of calm. You had become familiar with it. When the group of girls were out of your sight, you took a deep breath and turn to face Wolf. "Hey! where'd you come from?" You greeted Wolf, smiling and totally happy that he was there. The mood shift made Wolf blink, but he just grunted. "I was out walking and found whatever the hell this was." You laughed, knowing he was probably looking for you. He did that a lot with his free time and you two had become close. "Well, I'm sure you didn't see much. That girl has been pissing me off since the start of the school year. I came here to look for you and heard her talking shit about you, so I punched her. That's about it. Wanna go get ice cream?" You asked, already pulling him towards the street. You don't notice it, but Wolf lightly smiles at the back of your head. He's proud of you for beating the shit out of someone, he probably shouldn't be, but he is. "You know that you're going to have to clean your face first. Otherwise, the staff will think you're a lunatic." Wolf points out. You snort, "I'm already hanging out with you, that makes me looney enough. But sure, where do we go for that? I don't get into fights enough for this." "My place is around here, I've got some stuff there we can use." Wolf offers. You stop to gape at him. Never, in your whole life, would you ever expect for Wolf to let you in. What made him decide now? Your musings were ended when Wolf stopped paces in front of you and turned to see why you weren't following him. You made yourself move forward, catching up to Wolf while you wondered if he had Thomas the Train bedsheets.

Forrest Lee

he has NO idea what happened to you, only that you met up with him fifteen minutes late looking like you ran through a gauntlet. your clothes were tussled, there was blood stains on your skin on clothes, and you had a nice shiner forming on your jaw. forrest looks at you quizzically while grape slowly sidesteps out of the room attempting to go unnoticed. forrest will just sit there and watch you calmly clean yourself up with your phone in selfie mode. he’ll wait until you’re done to ask “how’d it start?” and he was not prepared for the amount of shit you were about to talk on this girl. it took about two hours on nonstop ranting for forrest to just get up and gently lead you to either his or your house to snack and lounge whilst you finish yelling out your rage for this girl he never knew existed.

Jimmy Bae

1000% asks if someone recorded it. he’s honestly way too excited that you got into a fight, but also sad that he missed it and a little bit concerned for your safety and your cheek that’s still bleeding somehow. he’ll probably take you somewhere quiet and bandage you up while he asks detailed questions to get more information out of you. will definitely have jack do some social media snooping to figure out who this bitch is. may or may not pick you up from school after that cause he secretly wants to prove that he isn’t an emotionless piece of shit that doesn’t care for his friends.

[vtforpedro]

long life update - TWs in tags

It feels like it's been ages. I'm so exhausted and in a lot of physical pain. Going on two months of it being the worst it's been right after a couple of months of the best it's been. Chronic pain + grief + trying to get help from doctors who should have their licenses revoked + dealing with a shit relationship with my mom + a good, decades-long friendship ending + the ongoing disability process with the SSA + LAW FIRMS.

I'm so fucking tired. I don't remember if I updated that the appeals council decided not to review my case because the 'judge followed the law' except that he didn't. So, as it turns out, my original attorney (and he did not tell me this) before he left, wrote that if they denied me, it should go to federal district court.

I'm now working with a NY law firm to take my case to federal court because my current law firm believes it has merit, and I guess they do, too. That's how fucked the decision was, and I'm glad my initial reaction of bewilderment and anger was spot on lol

The good news is, it should only take another year! ._.

My neurologist is the worst doctor I have ever come across and I'm quite literally stuck with him with nowhere else to go. I wish him upon no one. I'm so tired of calling the SSA, getting documents to them, signing things for law firms, contacting law firms, getting no responses, and contacting them all over and over again. I am in incredible physical pain, like this actively makes my neuro stuff worse. Everything makes it worse. I have autonomic testing in a few days, and idk if I'll get through it b/c I have to stop the meds that keep me out of the ER two days prior, and it scares me.

My relationship with my mom is fractured and I don't feel like family therapy is actually helping. I had to end a friendship with someone I love and care very much about but who was growing too comfortable mistreating me and I was giving them too many passes 😞 I've known them for the better part of two decades.

It's been over seven months since my cat Isis died. I don't know how. It feels like she was here just yesterday. Yet, all the nights I've sat and talked to her and wept are all too real. I miss her more than I can say. She was my soul cat. I keep thinking about tomorrow and how she'd be so nosy getting into EVERYthing when gifts are opened at Christmas. Having to stop her, move her, laugh because she was just so n o s y and it was hilarious. And she's not gonna be here for that ever again.

I'm having a really fucking hard time tonight. It's just hitting me how god-awful this year has been and how I have a bad week to look forward to before even getting to the new year lmao I have to stop taking so many of my medications 48hrs before 1.5-2hrs of testing to see if we can find out Yet Another Thing Wrong With Me but knowing my luck it'll be 'no findings' and the mystery of why my core body temp plummets to 93.9 in the blink of an eye won't be solved until I have suffered juuuuust enough.

It never ends. Never. I want to give up. I'm so tired of doing this. I don't want to anymore. It never. fucking. ends.

I absolutely cannot say it's all been bad, though. I've met incredible, warm, welcoming, giving, kind people this year. Y'all have helped me more than you know and I'm so so so lucky to be able to call you my friends. This year has sucked for so many of us, but I want to say I'm proud of you, and I love you all very much.

My fic is gonna be printed in a hardcover zine early next year. I participated in a Big Bang for the first time and that'll also go out early next year. I'm hosting a tiny event in my tiny fandom server that I'm super excited about. I have a raffle prize to write (bagginshield !!!! SO EXCITED to revisit the og otp) and a Valentine's gift to write for another fandom.

I posted 401,000 words this year and wrote many more unfinished wips, plus a long one (90k) that I am very invested in finishing.

I painted and drew so much this year. I improved a lot, too! I got a couple of portraits printed from inprnt to see how they looked, and it was MY art, and they were GORGEOUS. I thought I would hate seeing my art professionally printed, but no! I almost cried. They looked so lovely.

My cat Lilly had health issues almost immediately following Isis's passing, but she is doing so well right now. She's blossomed into another cat, and while she's not my constant companion, she is with me so much more than she used to be. When she walks onto my desk I am to stop everything and hold her like baby in my arms until she decides that's enough (or I really need to move) lmaaao she's such a goober. My heart cat. <3

I'm not doing well right now--my MH is bad. Especially tonight. But it felt good to write the good things.

I'm sorry for my lack of replies and kinda disappearing. I'm running on fumes. I hope next year will bring physical relief so emotional relief can happen.

For those of you facing difficulties of any kind, I am holding your hand in spirit.

[kyingg]

haikyuu comfort scenarios

i’ll try to keep this short, so this is my first time writing here on tumblr, so i apologize for any mistakes or if my writing isn’t the best-

feel free to tell me what you thought of this, i’ll try my best to improve

i’ll be uploading the master list and a intro post, idk what it’s called, later, i’m running a fever and just sprained my ankle, so i apologize in advance if i’m a slow weirdo ;-;

and this is SFW please. don’t. think. anything. dirty. 😔 i beg you thank you very much.

warnings: there’s a bit of using words like “shit” but that’s all! angst but comfort

also c/f is your comfort food, c/d is comfort dessert, ik they’re practically the same thing but the food is like a main or a side dish

ft. ʜɪɴᴀᴛᴀ ꜱʜōʏō | bad day? |

the apartment that you and ꜱʜōʏō shared came into view as you walked, well, trudged towards it. life seemed to hate you, a lot, to be frank, throwing whatever it pleased at you, problems, troubles, worries. the entire journey home was heavy, pushing you down with every step you dragged.

that sinking, weighing feeling you just can’t push away, it’s annoying and miserable

you hated it, so very much

with what little ounce of energy you had left, you unlocked the door and let yourself in.

“sunshine~! you’re backk,” ꜱʜōʏō appeared, his signature bright grin greeting you. you felt your shoulders relax, just a little; you’re back home, where you don’t have to bottle everything up anymore, where you can let yourself unwind. with furrowed brows, the orange boy in front of you looked at you with concerned eyes, eyeing your expressionless self.

“y/n?” the words left ꜱʜōʏō‘s lips softly, his mind clogging up with worries as he approached your figure. your vision blurred, tears trickled down your checks, both your hands came up to your face, hiding your sobbing face and muffling the cries that left your mouth.

your reaction shocked ꜱʜōʏō, his hands were trembling; did he do something to make you upset? but the moment you leaned into him and buried your face into his shirt, his previous thoughts vanished, hands instinctively coming up to pat your back and pull you closer. with the utmost care, ꜱʜōʏō carried you to the couch, sitting down you both down. as you cried out the tears you held back, you were sitting between ꜱʜōʏō’s legs, his warm hands wrapping around you, one to hold you, the other to stroke your hair.

you felt safe, protected, shielded from all your fears and worries in his arms

you calmed down after a while, not your emotions though, they were still like a storm, making you feel like shit. ꜱʜōʏō noticed your trembling has calmed down. your original position of your face planted into his sweater was changed as ꜱʜōʏō moved your face to look up at him. his warm fingers brushed past your forehead, tucking wild strands of hair behind your ear. “feeling better?” ꜱʜōʏō smiled.

“ki-*hic*nda” you managed to say between hiccups, that annoying after effect of crying so hard, as you leaned further into his arms.

“alright sunshine, wanna wash up? it’ll help”

“m-*hic* kay” you mumbled, but your actions said otherwise as you stuck onto ꜱʜōʏō, you just wanted to stay like this forever. “c’mon just a quick one will do”, he chuckled at your actions, another one of his signature soft smiles gracing his features. oh goodness, how can someone have such a breathtaking smile- you gave in, groaning as you slowly sat up

grabbing your towel and a new set of clothes, you trudged to the toilet. letting the warm water run down your head was indeed calming, your exhausted self almost fell asleep from how soothing it was. begrudgingly, you turned off the tap after cleaning up yourself. just when finished putting on your clothes, ꜱʜōʏō walked in, to which you heaved a small sigh of relief: it’d be rather awkward if he walked in on you naked right? (wether you mind or not i’ll leave that up to you 🤨) thank goodness you finished dressing up.

*whrr* the gentle blowing of the hairdryer greeted your ears as one of ꜱʜōʏō’s hands was combing through your hair, the other holding the hairdryer.

“ꜱʜōʏō?” you shifted your gaze to your boyfriend, confusion hinting your voice.

“just leave it to me,” ꜱʜōʏō grinned, warm hands grazing your scalp. it warmed your heart, his actions, and how he showed his concern and love. you couldn’t help but smile, your heart thumping a little louder and faster in your ears, your cheeks warming up. in the end, maybe it wasn’t such a bad day after all. wait, no, your boyfriend had just made the end of the day ten times, or even a hundred times brighter.

“all donee~” ꜱʜōʏō announced, as he stepped back, a surprisingly proud look on his face, as if he was admiring his masterpiece. which in this case, he was. the small smile on your lips didn’t falter one bit, it only grew.

his slightly calloused but warm hand in yours, ꜱʜōʏō dragged you back to the couch, sitting you both down. before he could even blink, you crashed into his open arms, burying your face in his chest.

“thank you so much sho,” you sighed contentedly.

“anything that’ll make you feel better”ꜱʜōʏō grinned, the both of you spending the remaining hours of the day in each others warmth and embrace, and of course, completed with some shows on netflix.

and just like that, your day ended nicely, yea, it wasn’t such a bad day after all with him

[g0dtier]

the list that makes me and @dentist-brainsurgeon mortal enemies from now on i guess

extremely lengthy explanations under the cut:

i actually think the S+A tier speak for themselves?

S tier: the goats. im aware its full of third versions but they just happen to be extremely good and added some insane shit to already solid base games (ok diamond and pearl werent solid but the foundation was there). replayability is insane for these.

A tier: the Oh Fuck Yeah games. not in any particular order actually. hgss is absolutely the best remake of all, only held back by the few inherent flaws of the Johto region and by not emulating Crystal enough. as much as i like bw, reverting back to only one region of pokemon never sat right by me, but it's been a while since ive played it, and nowadays i make much more of an effort to try out all new mons. so i could change my mind on this.

i liked usum more than sun/moon, if only for the post game. replayability isnt as high because of the cutscenes every 3 steps, and rotom dex is annoying as shit. aside from that, insanely solid story & postgame imo. red/blue and gold/silver are brimming with weird places in their regions and are chock full of in game lore and legends, which i really like. the ruins of alph & pokemon tower are some of the best locations theyve ever made imo

B tier is the "good but couldve been better" tier. lets go is insane for shiny hunting, but it stops at that imo. the new rival is garbo. sun and moon are good, but the postgame + alola in general is just lacking enough in these games that they dont reach A tier for me. loveeed the island challenges tho. alola itself has just such a good vibe. you really feel like its about community rather than competition. legends arceus couldve been insanely good, but i have never felt as ripped out of a pokemon game as i did when i walked through that cave in the coronet region and started seeing stray pixels around my character. which wasnt a one time thing btw this happens to anyones game & every time as far as ive seen. its gonna sound dramatic but this combined with other graphics glitches made it so clear i was playing a game that it just took me out of the adventure entirely. this is where the graphics glitches really started, and they havent stopped since.

C tier: yellow is just kinda there? i dont care for starter pikachu. i want to, but it gets killed when breathed at, so. idk. the gimmick doesnt work that well for me. sword and shield introduced some insane mons that i love and i want to call it solid real bad, but the story was hot garbage even for pokemon standards, and while the wild area was a great idea, the execution was lacking & because what i assume is a time crunch, the towns were boring as shit as well. diamond & pearl are mediocre to bad, with a great story and mediocre to bad execution, and i shouldve put oras in the :( tier, but the postgame is worth it.

actually im gonna rant about oras. i was so hyped for it but, just, ugh. if youre gonna turn a 2d vague not-specified-what-a-character-is-doing-or-feeling player character to 3d, at least do it correctly. 2d sprites where someone can fill in the blanks not seen on screen but hinted at in text (ie expressions, actions like handing someone something) work infinitely better than 3d sprites who show it badly. also still suffers from the desaturation curse that the 3ds games suffer from. postgame was dope, though. shame the mega latis are ugly as shit.

:( tier: garbage, im so sorry. SV's only redeeming factor is the area zero story. there is nothing else in the game that held my attention. fuck the star team, fuck the big pokemon quests, fuck the towns where you cant talk to anyone or find anything interesting or walk into a house and where every shop looks the game. fuck stores not even having an interior anymore. fuck this larger but emptier and stripped down world full of graphical glitches. fuck the weak ass gyms, fuck geeta, and fuck terrastalizing most of all. i will die for Koraidon & the professor fight fucking ruled but that's all the game had to it for me. do any of yall remember the gym leaders besides like, iono and the snowboard man? no you dont, stop lying to me. gen I put more life into lavender town by making a npc reference some ghost hand on your shoulder than SV does for any town, and they only had black and white 32mb cartridges or whatever to work with. for fucking shame gamefreak. give your devs some time to make a halfway functioning game.

firered and leafgreen do nothing new. i will not discuss the sevii islands. what the fuck even was that. boring. same with brilliant diamond and shining pearl. theyre lower than diamond and pearl because why the fuck did they not decide to remake platinum. what the hell was their damage. seriously platinum was RIGHT there. i caught a full odds shiny ghastly in that game and i still dont care about it.

X&Y suffers from. everything.

[t0o-m4ny-f4nd0ms]

Okay some it’s been twenty-four hours officially since I’ve seen the power of the doctor. Here are my thoughts;

GOOD;

• GODDAMN THAT SHIT WAS GOOD - from a plot perspective, a lot of callbacks to classic era, honestly made me wanna get britbox and watch classic who like the hype I felt seeing the past doctors - if I had actually watched their eras I would’ve shat myself even more

• SACHA FUCKING DHAWAN - someone give this man a fucking Oscar HOLY SHIT. He stole the show - he really did !!

• The VISUALS WILL AHHEIEHRIEJE ISTG NO OTHER ERA WILL HAVE BETTER SFX than this era! I will DIE ON THAT HILL

• YAZ - EVERYTHING ABOUT YAZ 😍 this is why she is top tier companion material my friends. BRIDAL CARRIES THE DOCTOR, SAVES THE FUCKING DAY, TAKES NO CREDIT FOR IT, FLYS THE TARDIS WITH HER NOTES, CAN READ GALLIFREYAN (apparently), STANDS UP TO THE MASTER, BECOMES THE DOCTOR IN HER OWN RIGHT, and is SO BRAVE when saying goodbye

• the actual regeneration - her little speech, her last sunrise, “tag, youre it” FUCK ME THATS SUCH A THIRTEEN THING TO SAY 😭 she was just so at peace with her fate, she knew it was time and she just accepted it

• THE companion support group situation at the end, and how they left a seat for Sarah Jane. That was beautiful

BAD;

• Idk if it was just me but it didn’t seem like Jodies doctor was given a lot to do? Like she gets taken away, gets forced into regeneration, degenerates into herself, gets rid of the daleks and the cybermen with her team, gets shot by a laser and then actually regenerates ?

• Obviously we already know how I feel about Jodie regenerating into David and the “what, what, what” - didn’t love it at all but it is what it is, moving on

• I don’t really understand what the point of having Vinder back was ? Kinda just felt like they wanted to bring Jacob back bc they like him? Same with Graham - like nice to see him, but him and Yaz barely acknowledged each other? Same with him and the doctor?

CONFLICTED;

• Companion endings - Dan leaving? Made sense but felt out of place and sort of rushed?

• The thasmin of it all - LOOK, I could make a WHOLE other post about this. One the one hand, we got quite a lot, like seeing that they’re equals, them always having each other’s back and wanting the other safe, soft touches, actions of love, acts of service, “[the Doctor] is loved”, “my doctor”, and “I’ve loved being with you Yaz”. That was their version of I love you and it was beautiful.

Their goodbye scene was HEARTBREAKING. Genuinely I’ve never heard more beautiful words said between two people who love each other and know it’s time to let each other go. The doctor saying “you know what this means right?” Shows that they’ve already talked about this, this conversation has been had off screen and we weren’t meant to be a part of it: it was something between them. Their plan was one last trip to end on a good note and idk I just, loved it. I will forever tear up watching that scene.

There could’ve been much more done, it felt VERY RUSHED towards the end. One the one hand, I’m not feeling that optimistic hopeful approach that was setup to be felt for Yaz��s ending. She’s jusy back on earth, and will probably work for UNIT and continue to save the earth. ONE THE OTHER HAND, it’s such a full circle moment bc when she started, she had just met someone who lost the love of their life but decided that the best way to grieve was find comfort in others. That’s exactly what she’s doing. She’s just lost the doctor and now, she’s found a group of people who have gone through exactly what she has gone through, and they’re getting through it together.

The lack of a kiss again I feel conflicted. I was convinced they were going to and was kinda mad they didn’t but then I sat and thought about it and I’m almost glad that they didn’t. It would’ve hurt them both too much, “it felt cruel, to be shown something I couldn’t have anymore. It felt like I’d rather not have know” pretty much sums that up I think. ALSO they did share a cheek kiss, bc Yaz kisses the doctor on the cheek when she bridal carries her 😌

Yaz being alive means that there’s a high possibility of her coming back, and I hope they definitely bring Jodie back as well in future.

———��

That’s not even all of it but that’s all my brain can do right now, what did everyone else think?

[orlothegreat]

Starting to wonder if Orlo's not in season 3 anymore? They're filming right now and elle's makeup artist (who's on set all the time) replied to sacha's post saying "Miss you being around." It kind of makes me think they killed him off :/ Idk, maybe Orlo left the palace or something? Or left and will be back next season? I don't see how they'd kill him off so early in season 3(like two episodes in) after his character development/exploring his sexuality last season. Also wouldn't think they'd kill off one of the only POC in the main cast? Plus what about his family/uncle/etc?

I really and genuinely doubt that Orlo is going to be killed off, because of the symbolic purpose he serves. He is more than just Catherine's best friend and most loyal confidante (even when tested by his own family, he didn't sway nearly as much as Marial or Elizabeth and never ever treated her the way Peter has). He is also still the (relatively) young man who sat weeping at Descartes and the idea of free thinking and progress in a royal library that was so old that it was covered in dust and cobwebs.

What do I mean by this? Well. ALL of the main cast stand for something more than who they are as historical individuals, which is why the show is justified in only being loosely historically accurate, While Marial stands in for Machiavellian selfishness, Archie for the corruption of virtue or principle, and Elizabeth as disillusionment and pragmatic survival. Meanwhile, ORLO is still the Conscience, capital C, a distinctly Russian archetype of the tortured intellect who Still Believes. One of my followers (please speak up if you see this!) is a Russian viewer who wrote a compelling analysis of Orlo AS Count Pyotr "Pierre" Kirillovich Bezukhov from Leo Tolstoy's iconic War and Peace: down to the point of being asexual-coded, having a conscience but also a very pragmatic fear of the repercussions of too-fast, too-drastic change, and wearing spectacles: which are also an archetype, of seeing but not acting. When the spectacles come off, after he has killed a man, Orlo changes, and so does the method by which Catherine acts: it becomes more violent, direct, and extreme.  

Orlo, as a character, is a SIGNAL. He is the externalization of ONE SIDE (the honorable yet level-headed side) of Catherine’s internal struggle.  And the ACT OF LOOKING is the primary way, literal and metaphorical, that he signals: hence the focus on glasses or no glasses. 

So I think it's reasonable to judge Orlo's viability through the rest of this series BASED ON what he REPRESENTS, metaphorically. Do we still have a narrative NEED for "The Conscience," or perhaps better put, "The Original Hopes and Dreams of the Heroine"?

I would argue YES.

This show really relies on the Bakhtin Carnivalesque (basically, almost farcical vulgarity in order to democratize, humor as a weapon, a form of satire) to confer its message on viewers, but I think it also knows when to tether itself to more serious moments (which almost ALWAYS involve Orlo, or, if they're vulgar and humorous, ORLO is the one to look upon these actions aghast and disgusted).

A prime example would be in season one, when Catherine, previously promised efforts at variolation (early vaccination science, which ORLO suggested) to stop smallpox among serfs, stands watching in horror as their bodies are burned en masse across the field from Peter's palace.

Another example is when ORLO gets lost in the woods and had to face killing another human being for the first time, and how that action directly tarnished his principles, posing the narrative question to the audience: when is this violent act justifiable, if ever?

Still another, in season two, when ORLO tries to talk Catherine down from freeing all the serfs in a single day, knowing that even positive change must be incremental if it will last.

Season Two tested MY faith, both in Catherine and in the writers of The Great; I thought, LIKE ORLO, that there was going to be at least a brief moment of reveling in Catherine's victory.

Instead, Catherine was proven to be what she genuinely is--still a child, with ambition but no experience, making the fatal flaw of never listening to people who have valuable insight to offer, highly educated but still relatively sheltered, a player in a much bigger game of politics and rhetoric in a country that was never good at changing quickly for the better. We are shown unequivocally that Catherine is not yet ready to become the famous, lol, girlboss empress of European history whom we all know.

It's worth noting that The Great also uses a style of historical narrative that straddles the eccentricities of an unfamiliar epoch AND social issues that still echo with resonance everywhere today (censorship, misogyny in the "media," religious intolerance and bigotry, the danger of certain cultural hegemonies, etc etc). Another famous franchise that does this is Lin Manuel Miranda's Hamilton: which also never claims to portray these historical figures accurately (hell, Alexander Hamilton owned slaves!) BUT which uses them as--again--archetypes, larger-than-life caricatures of themselves, who stand in for ideas. They're almost allegorical that way. Orlo is no exception.

At first, like you, I was REALLY angry (I kinda still am LOL), and I couln't tell if this was deliberate, or if we were meant to be convinced, like Catherine, that Peter had really changed, and was really intent upon being a good husband and father. I was horrified by Catherine pulling AWAY from Orlo, who is, to me, Peter's narrative foil AS AN ARCHETYPE, not just as a character/individual. I was sad when Orlo said "I am for you, always, even when you don't realize it," and left.

However, I think that, by the end of Season Two, we're meant to see Catherine's slip into the illusion of domestic bliss and true love AS A VAST MISCALCULATION (the thing with Peter and her mom.....yeesh.... lol) and I think we are meant to see Orlo's absence BOTH literally AND symbolically, as idealism, conviction, and hope for positive change temporarily thwarted by a (well-meaning but headstrong and arrogant) young woman's very HUMAN need for someone to love and support her.

But he WILL be back, because the show is, after all, called The Great, and they don't mean Peter. And Catherine needs her conscience and her hope back to incarnate her own highest potential.

And if he dies, well, then, it’s possible, always, on any show, but what a bleak signal, or portent, that will be for the show’s endgame. 

[shih-coulda-had-it]

Can you do a story well after the yoroi musha break up and the exposing Torino in all that for a undercover or regular mission the pro hero’s are split up into four and somehow yoroi musha gets paired with sakumo nana and his ex 😂 some (nanahiko x sakumo too )and yoroi is like >:c probably jealous idk just thought it would be funny for him to see that his ex doesn’t care anymore about the break up and has moved on while he’s probably having second thoughts

ohhh my god i'm sorry for writing in yoroi musha pov but that's what broke the writing block, so, you get what you get, my dude. quick summary for those who will go 'what on earth is shih doing to torino now' - Gran Torino (mid-30s)/Yoroi Musha (mid-to-late-20s) were in a relationship; YM staged a public break-up for publicity; the Shimuras swooped in to fully integrate Sorahiko into the family, along with Toshinori. AFO is... irrelevant to this situation for now.

wc: 1251 | prev | a/n: I am retconning what I typed in the tags of the previous post. Mr. Shimura is alive and as horny for his wife's best friend as she is. Kotarou is also present in the background.

//

“Seventh Wonder,” Yamamoto greeted. He took a seat across from her.

“Yoroi Musha,” she replied, ever courteous and graceful. There was a distinct coldness to her manner that Yamamoto admired. Seventh Wonder was more than a decade his senior, partnered with Gran Torino, and Yamamoto had always considered her a consummate professional. He was glad to be working with this particular member of the Sky High Agency.

Gran Torino could be so petty at times.

The mission itself revolved around a raid in a prefecture neighboring Yamanashi - in Shizuoka Prefecture, a villain had appropriated several antiques from the Tokugawa period. The government’s ministry of culture subsequently commissioned Yoroi Musha with the retrieval of the items; he had the training necessary to handle and transport these kinds of valuables.

Why Seventh Wonder had been pulled in, Yamamoto had several guesses.

Yoroi Musha had a history, albeit shallow, with Sky High Agency. Perhaps when they received the call, Gran Torino had chosen a path of discretion and asked his partner to fill in. After all, two-thirds of their three-man team were landlocked.

Speaking of. The Tracker Hero: Wolfheart took point at the head of the table, eyes glittering dark red under the fluorescent lighting of his office. He arranged the table to display a satellite map of their target’s location, a stack of papers listing buyers known to frequent the property, and more papers regarding the antiques’ appearances and preservation protocols if Yoroi Musha was too occupied to assist.

Before Wolfheart settled into his own chair, he looked at Seventh Wonder and asked, “Is Gran Torino not making it?”

“I wasn’t aware he was participating,” said Yamamoto.

“He’ll be there,” Seventh Wonder answered steadily, not even glancing at Yamamoto. “Here, too. He’s just taking care of the kids right now.”

Yamamoto blinked. Kids? Surely Seventh Wonder meant his students, and surely, Gran Torino did not perceive his class as anything more than the functional. Aloud, Yamamoto observed, “School hours have been over for some time now.”

Wolfheart nodded, but it was evidently in acknowledgment of Seventh Wonder’s excuse instead of Yamamoto’s pointed statement. The older pro-hero said, “He should trust Yagi more. Kota’s practically in love with him.”

“That’s because Yagi doesn’t know how to enforce bed-time,” said Seventh Wonder.

“A happy, harmonious babysitting relationship is something to be treasured,” Wolfheart countered, and it became abruptly, terribly clear to Yamamoto that he was missing some inside joke. That Seventh Wonder knew Wolfheart on a personal level, which meant Gran Torino was going to make Yoroi Musha feel like some fourth wheel on a job that was supposed to be easy publicity.

Yamamoto sat stiffly, silently, wondering if Seventh Wonder and Wolfheart knew some aspect of Gran Torino that he’d never been aware of, even though they’d shared spaces for more than a year. Gran Torino wasn’t soft. He didn’t care for children. He was lazy, unambitious, and mean-hearted.

“Should I call him?” asked Wolfheart.

“Who? Gran Torino or Yagi?”

“Torino, of course. Ah, hold on,” and Wolfheart retrieved a cellphone from one of the many pockets lining his flak vest. Its dial tone was a cutesy chirping phrase. Birdsong. From where Yamamoto was sitting, he could see the contact photo: Gran Torino, unmasked, illuminated by the setting sun.

Despite his adherence to tradition and cultural integrity, Yamamoto had bowed to logic at the beginning of his career and asked his manufacturers to ensure he’d still be able to hear things through the thick layers of metal that formed his helmet. He tapped into this quality now, in order to - ascertain the nature of Gran Torino’s relationship to Wolfheart.

“I’m on my way,” said Gran Torino with zero courtesy greetings offered. He sounded tired.

“Are you well? The boys?”

“Watching a movie. Gave Toshinori the reminder that if he gets Kota hopped up on sugar again, he’s on paperwork duty for the rest of the quarter.” A brief pause. “... Do I have to attend the meeting? Can’t you and Nana tell me the details after?”

Lazy, thought Yamamoto, and paid careful attention to the fond exasperation on Wolfheart’s open-book face. Seventh Wonder was peering over the table, inspecting the map. She clearly didn’t mind Wolfheart talking to her partner.

“Not in a way that’ll satisfy you.”

“I’m plenty satisfied by you two,” Gran Torino flirted, and Yamamoto itched to slap his hand on the table and demand that Wolfheart stop being so unprofessional - wait. Yamamoto glanced over at Seventh Wonder and startled back into his armor; she was gazing at him with cool disdain, a dare that read, ‘Say something. I dare you to.’

Wolfheart laughed. The warmth was genuine. The affection was genuine. The flirting was real. “So you say, but nevertheless, you had better hurry. Taiyaki stays hot only for so long.”

“You bought…?”

“A full plate. Yoroi Musha was looking at it earlier.” Conspiratorially, Wolfheart winked at Yamamoto. 

He ignored it; he was more invested in what reaction, if there would be a reaction to the news of Yoroi Musha’s presence. Gran Torino disliked emotional vulnerability. That’s what Yamamoto liked about him, when they first started that beneficial relationship (it wasn’t dating, not really). When Yamamoto saw Gran Torino’s floundering response to the dissolution of their life together, Yamamoto had only thought, ‘Well, that’s a touch dramatic.’

It had been logical to step away. Yamamoto consulted no less than three PR managers in the industry about moving his career forward, and they all suggested for him to adopt the role of a chaste, value-driven samurai.

“You called dibs for me, right?”

“Seventh Wonder is fending him off, no worries,” said Wolfheart.

“Good,” Sorahiko sighed. “I’m damn hungry. See you in a bit, Wolf.”

“Safe flight, Gran Torino.”

As the call ended, Seventh Wonder received a text. She grinned as she read the message, nodded at Wolfheart in a knowing manner, and relaxed into her chair. Yamamoto wasn’t sure what to do. Accuse them of engineering an awkward work-place situation? Remark on Wolfheart’s connection to Gran Torino?

“A few minutes more,” said Seventh Wonder.

He grunted in acknowledgment.

(When Gran Torino breezes into the meeting room, Yamamoto finds himself cataloging not the differences in appearance, but the unchanged details. The windswept hair, the unbending posture, the wicked sharp grin as he first greets Seventh Wonder and Wolfheart. For Yoroi Musha, Gran Torino gives a cursory ‘hey’ and sweeps past him, making a beeline for the platter of taiyaki still in the microwave.

Instead of taking the last chair at the table, Gran Torino leans against the table, parking his ass on the corner between Wolfheart and Seventh Wonder. Neither look surprised at this turn of events.

“Hey, can I get a tail,” says Seventh Wonder, and Gran Torino scoffs but obliges. He’d always had a soft spot for his partner.

Wolfheart’s questing fingers bump against an obstacle, thickly-insulated and sunny yellow. Wolfheart looks up at the opaque white lenses of Gran Torino’s domino mask, and his bottom lip juts out in a pout. At first, Yamamoto thinks to tell Wolfheart that it’s futile - Gran Torino has one favorite person, and that is Seventh Wonder.

Then, Gran Torino breaks a pastry in half and passes it over to Wolfheart.

Discipline, Yamamoto reminds himself, stifling the outrage. He draws himself up tall, straightening his spine and squaring his shoulders. Aloud, he says, “If we may proceed with the debrief, Wolfheart.”

Gran Torino crams one immaculate piece of taiyaki into his mouth and nods emphatically.)

[1ntr0v3rted]

So I was sitting at a table with people who don’t like me just to annoy them and have fun w my best friend

One kid told us to shut up which tbh hypocritical, another kid apparently got uncomfortable by a picture of when all of us were friends at a harvest market bro.

There was 5 of us me, 2 girls, and 2 other boys

One of the boys was dating one of the girls btw they were complete opposites, one was mean and pretty dark humor and the other was loud and excited, they both agreed their relationship was the worse thing of their lives.

The 5 of us became the 4 of them and the 2 of me and one of the girls which ended up having 5 but different girls and now being 6 with new students and others which aren’t me cause everyone of those people have unfriended me.

But one. It was one of the guys the mean dark humored one, we normally had fun at sleepovers and we chilled together. I even got them together with their now bf who they’ve been together for almost a year now, you see im a very spazzy person well im very happy at school and cuddly when around others I’ll hug them make jokes and I won’t touch them in places they don’t want bc that’s not okay. And it’s in school I don’t wanna get in trouble

A rule in our school is to have consent of in a way everything that’s touch. I ask for hugs and I ask if a certain thing was okay or I know them well enough I just hug them and know.

One of the guys at the table who yelled at us said he was just uncomfortable with me sitting their in general. I only sat their bc then I wouldn’t rlly hear them from across the room. Aka a goddang cafeteria and plus I wanted to spend time with my friend and we were having fun even us being opposites but I’m at least to him tolerable

Now here’s the thing. Why would I post about people from my school who could find my tumblr

I could easily be a person with information from another, and I’m not saying names and nor am I exposing anybody, I’m keeping everyone anonymous and I make sure that nobody from my school even probably has tumblr-

It’s mostly instagram where they put the fights. And lol ik I have a digital footprint it’s def real but I know, others do to and half of this drama happened online.. so I mean it exists and will stay there.

I’ve had a completely different friend group now. Just the art nerds or just nerds which isn’t bad being a nerd or a geek isn’t bad it’s just idk u know more than others or you like something a lot

And tbh I’m not rlly scared of what people say about me anymore. Bc I was just with my friend, and maybe my friend doesn’t wanna move :). I completely thought this situation was funny and wanted it documented cause it’s a blog a personal blog!

Where I talk about anything that goes into my mind or thoughts in my mind

Writen by a introverted bozo

[outofcontexturi]

sat 10th Dec 2022 journal 00:41am

I’m currently at mikes apartment in Croydon. I’ve spent the evening at his office and just chilling here talking about life and shit. really put a lot of things into perspective and he gave me a deeper insight into his life and personality. I didn’t know he had some of the things he had going on. I’ve genuinely learnt a lot and I’ve come to accept that he does care about me as much as I’ve tried not to think about it all these years. I would think he has me in his best interests. I can’t exactly tell how I feel though. Reba has unfollowed me on pretty much everything. I think that’s the end of that friendship. It’s painful but again. I don’t feel like I’m in the wrong so I’m not so hard pressed about it. I think she’ll feel it more in the long run. Because I know what I bring to the table as a friend and I know that I’ve been there for her when she’s needed me the most. I know I’ve tried my hardest with her and if she chooses to leave then she can honestly be my guest. I don’t care. It’s 00:56am. Apparently I’m going to a breakfast thingy later on this morning or at least I’ve been invited to it. Also I managed to get a meeting with an acting agency!! can’t believe it happened but like damn it happened. This whole process has been the most stressful thing ever and just to even be seen by an agent that has some form of faith in me is kinda crazy when I think about it. Like damn. I didnt play a massive role in this play; infact I wasn’t even that integral to the story but to see someone actually enjoy it enough to say they’d want to meet with me is something so crazy. All praise goes to God. And some praise goes to me for fucking pushing thru this rep cause God knows I’ve cried tears many many times thru out this process even thinking whether or not I want to carry on this show or kill my self . I’m glad I didn’t opt the latter. Life can be wonderful sometimes. I’m still broken a bit from everything that has happened in the last 3 months. Life doesn’t feel so real. I feel alot at once and it’s not easy but I’ve survived the toughest days I’ve lived this year and that’s got to count for something. Still letting go of things and people that don’t serve me. I need to cut down on the porn I’m watching too. It’s not fun anymore. I need real intimacy. Or something. This is no longer serving me the way it used to. I need a change. There’s more to this life. There has to be. It’s 1:11am. I genuinely don’t know what to think of life. I’m going to look back at a lot of these posts and think “23 must’ve been such a crazy year man” cause I can’t tell you how many times I’ve said I don’t believe what’s happening in my life or whatever. I also don’t think I’m crazy. I don’t think I’m schizophrenic. I don’t think I’m depressed. I do think I’m moody. I’ve been moody for at least 10 years now maybe even 12 idk. Life just seems to be at a constant. Mike was talking about habits today and how to know if you’re addicted to something you can test it by noticing if there’s a habit in said behaviour. I know this already but it was nice to be reminded and to think about the behaviour I show myself. It’s also nice to know that I can change at any time. I need to make time for travel. I think im at that stage in my life. I must travel and see the world. I hope it get to experience all these different cultures and widen my worldview before I go. It’s 1:48am now. was scrolling thru Twitter. I need to think of some questions to ask this agent. more importantly I need to sleep. I’m gonna try and aim to sleep in the next 30 mins. Goodnight/ morning uri. until next time bud.

sign out time : 1:49am

[finelinevogue]

the fact that Y/N has post natal depression Is somewhat refreshing idk I just don't see it talked about much on here and if it is it's like Hella angsty and the partner doesn't understand what it is but I was wondering if u could touch on it a bit more cause it's something I'm really scared about happening to me and I just want harry to hold me and tell me it's going be okay 😚😚😚😚

P.s. if u don't wanna it's understandable

anon: can u write about harry helping y/n through her ppd maybe like the 3rd time was so bad that h decide that he won’t be having more children

so this was requested twice so i would love to be able to write this for you both, hope this is okay - mind it’s heavily angsty!;

tw: vomiting, ppd and od

oli - 4, felix - 3, belle - 12 weeks

Motherhood was really fucking hard.

The birth of your newly born daughter, Isabella, had really taken a back pedal on your mental health. You had suffered with post natal depression after the birth of your two sons, but nothing as bad as this.

It had hit you around the 7 week mark after giving birth. The pregnancy itself was okay, even though she was slightly premature, but it was after you’d taken her home that it’d all spiralled downhill. It started with complications with her breastfeeding - like she was rejecting the milk that you had produced. It hurt to see her reject you and your body, finding more comfort in drinking from a pre-made milk bottle as her dad rocked her to sleep. You recall the evening so clearly and felt like an utter failure as you watched her drink a bottle of formula for the first time.

“Ssh ssh,” Harry cooed to your 7 week old daughter as he rocked her in his arms on the rocking chair in her nursery. She was whining because she was hungry, but the problem was that she wasn’t accepting your milk. She hadn’t been accepting your milk all day and now it was becoming dangerous for you to keep on saying ‘Oh i’ll just try later.’ Harry had told you to make a formula bottle for her. “Mummy’s coming.”

As much as you didn’t want to, you were walking back to the nursery with a warm bottle in your hands. You’d tested it on your hand to make sure it wasn’t too hot and then taken a sip to taste it, out of jealousy, and you thought that it didn’t taste any different to you. Then again you’re not a 7 week old human whose only date is milk.

“Look here’s mummy with your yummy milk, okay? Look Belles!” Harry cooed at his darling angel and you only wished he wasn’t as happy for her as he was.

“Yeah.” You spoke softly, handing him the bottle and standing nearby, part of you hoping that she would reject this too and she wasn’t just rejecting you.

But no, she drank the formula like it was her last meal.

“Such a sweet girl, aren’t you?” Harry praised her, watching her in awe as she kept on drinking the formula. Watching as she was drinking to become the strong girl you knew she’d become. It just hurt that it wasn’t you that could help her become that.

You felt powerless. Worthless, even. The one thing that you had carried the weight of your breasts around to do and you couldn’t even do it. Your nipples were so sore and your breasts ached so badly and it was all for nothing. Perhaps it was punishment for being such a bad mum. Perhaps you’d never been good enough for this job and it was your bodies way of shutting you down forever. You wouldn’t need the ability to produce milk anymore, because you weren’t worth the title of becoming one again. You wanted to be happy for your little one, seeing her happy but all you felt was rejection and sadness. She didn’t think you were good enough to be her mum and that really hurt.

Along with the breastmilk problem, Belle also became very stubborn when you wanted to change her nappy. Anytime you tried to change and help her she put up a fuss, kicking her legs and sometimes she would bite or hit you away. It was just a reminder that you weren’t a good enough mum for her and that she didn’t feel safe enough around you. She didn’t find comfort in your presence and she was so fussy about what you did around her. With Harry, though, she was an angel. She loved him so much and obviously he made her feel so loved and safe - something you’d clearly never be able to give her.

There was also the chores of being a mother to your other two sons too. Oli and Felix were old enough to understand that they had a baby sister, but they weren’t old enough to understand how miserable you were. Harry wasn’t even able to figure it out yet. You tried your best to put on your bravest face, knowing that your family needed you to be strong but the truth was that you were crumbling on the inside. You were feeling less and less like yourself and you were waiting for the moment when you’d completely fall apart. Nothing felt right anymore. Everything was just numb.

“You two boys okay?”

You walked into the children’s playroom see that they were sat at the little table colouring in. Felix’s little legs dangled slightly, whereas Oli’s legs touched the floor and it made your heart swell at how big they were both getting.

“Yep!” Oli cheered, scribbling with his left hand as his tiny tongue stuck out from his lips as he concentrated - a habit passed onto him from his father.

“What are you both drawing?” You asked, coming over and kneeling on the floor beside them and having a peek at their drawings.

“We’re colouring for daddy.” Felix answered, some of the words not being pronounced properly due to his young lisp and lack of being taught how to say things correctly yet.

His words stung though. You appreciated that he was only a toddler and he meant nothing evil or malicious by it, but it hurt to think that maybe, just maybe, your sons were doing this for their dad because he did so much more for them than you did. Of course you tried to be the best mum you could, but maybe you weren’t doing enough. Maybe you weren’t meant to be a mum after all, or at least not a good one.

“O-oh,” you tried to hold back the tears in your eyes because your boys looked so proud at their artwork - and you should be too. “Tell me about them then, my loves.”

Oli went first, “So this is me and this is Oli and this is dad. It’s us playing football like we did the other day, mummy.” He pointed out to each of the figures, some looking actually quite terrifying but you’d never have the heart to tell him that. The figures were all holding hands though and it hurt to think that you weren’t a part of that.

“Oh that’s so good Ols!” you rubbed his head of hair and then turned to Felix’s, “What about you Fix?”

“I drew daddy as the best.” He pointed to a trophy that the figure - more like a stick-man-slenderman - was holding, which was decorated with the award of ‘my hero’.

“I told him to write hero, mummy.” Oli added, and you smiled at both of them.

“Well done. Good job both of you. Daddy will love these!” You only wished that they would draw something for you. You hated to think that you were being petty, but honestly you just wanted to feel loved. “Shall I go cut up some apple for a snack, hey?” You asked, trying to feel useful.

“Daddy is making us smoothies!” Felix answered and you had to stand up, up and away from their heigh, so they didn’t catch the tears in your eyes.

“Okay! Don’t forget to give him those pictures - he’ll love those.” You praised them and they both giggled to each other.

The sight of your sons laughing should’ve made you so happy, but it only reminded you that you weren’t the source of their happiness. You weren’t on their mind enough to be their inspiration for drawings. You definitely weren’t their hero. You were just a woman to them, not a mum. You wanted to be so much more but it was clear that they didn’t need you. They were loved by their dad and each other, not in need of your heart.

Eventually Belle settled down and was sleeping better through the night, leaving you and Harry to much more peaceful nights sleep. Well, just Harry.

You had found it near impossible to get to sleep now. You lay awake at night wondering when Belle would next wake up, wondering when she’d next need you. Harry was always quick out of bed though, even if he actually was sleeping, to help her ordering you to stay in bed and rest yourself. You couldn’t help feel like he was telling you to stay put because he knew you wouldn’t be able to do your job properly - and you started to believe him.

You’d found yourself getting jealous of those that could get to sleep. When you were walking down the road you’d judge a person by how much sleep they looked like they got last night. You definitely looked like you only had 2 hours - even when you’d only had 37 minutes but who’s counting? Your dark circles were heavily noticeable, but no one cared enough to ask. Even Harry stayed clear of you more and more often; spending more time with the kids than you and sleeping on his side of the bed instead of yours at nighttime.

There had been one evening where you had been so restless that Harry had gotten so frustrated and left the room, with a blanket and a pillow, and slept on the couch. You’d never felt so much like a burden than that night. Your family was rejecting you and you felt like a failure. You were a success at failing in everything. The meals you cooked went half eaten by everyone because you would’ve forgotten to add a key ingredient. The children preferred to spend more time playing with their dad because you weren’t energised enough to play the games they wanted to. Your daughter still rejected your milk. It was all too much and you just wanted one nights peace for it to change.

Last night had been that night.

Fuck these were so addicting. You were finally getting the sleep that you so badly craved, only with the help of tablets.

You wanted the sleep because that was the one place you could escape to. You needed that escape to help you get out of bed the next morning. Life was too hard for you to not dream, and without dreaming you didn’t want life.

It started off with taking one every night before bed, but then they stopped working again, so you started taking two, then three. Four was obviously where your body hit its limit.

“Mummy? Can you come tuck me in please?” Oli asked, little toy giraffe in hand and shaking you in hopes of waking you up to send him peacefully off to sleep.

You’d gone to bed a bit earlier tonight, lying saying that you were extremely exhausted. Harry said he would be able to handle things and that’s when you excitedly ran upstairs to take your pills; 4 of them. You’d made it into your bed, feeling slightly drowsy after completing your nighttime routine, but then you started to feel unwell and really ill. Before you’d passed out you’d stuck your fingers down your throat in hopes to make the feeling in your stomach disappear, but it ended up you throwing up all over the bed and pass out right there.

“Mummy! Wake up!” Oli rattled your back, but you were still unresponsive.

Oli padded out of the room and down to his sisters room where he knew his dad was. Belle was being extra fussy this evening and Harry suspected it had everything to do with you retiring early. He heard Oli come into the room just as he’d gotten Belle down.

“Y’alright buddy?” Harry whispered, tip-toeing out of Belle’s room, leaving the door open slightly, and crouched down in front of him.

“No. Mummy’s not waking up.” Oli pouted, rubbing a tired fist over his eye.

“She’s probably in dreamland, bud. She was really tired today.”

“She’s really tired all of the times.”

“I know, Ol.” Because Harry did know, but he was too much of a coward to face up to the problem. The doctors had said that post natal depression can strengthen with every birthed child, but he was too blind sighted by the fact that you’d overcome the first birthed post natal depression so quickly, and was so in love with his baby girl, that he didn’t truly see how bad things had gotten. Harry had tried giving you some space, distancing himself from you in bed and spending more time with the kids so you could relax and rest up, but nothing seemed to be working. He was surprised, actually, that you’d been having better sleep recently and so was hopeful that maybe the worst of the depression was over.

Hell, was he so wrong.

“Go to bed, bud okay? I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Wake mummy up so she can give me a kiss.”

“I’ll try little man, alright?” Harry scuffed his sons hair and then watched him walk off to his room.

Harry walked into your dark room, the air smelling slightly sour, and walked around to your side of the bed. He sat down next to you sighed heavily. He needed to speak to you, no matter how tired or angry you’d be with him. He was losing you as a wife and a mother and a soulmate and a lover. He was just losing you, just as you were losing yourself and he was doing tip-toeing around the problem any longer. He was going to try and make this better. He was going to better understand how you were feeling in order to help you.

“Baby?” He spoke softly, nudging you gently, “Baby wake up.” No response. “Y/N, my love? Wake up for me darling, need to speak with you.” Normally you would’ve stirred by now but there was still nothing. “Y/N?” Harry shook you a bit more urgently now - one that would surely wake even the deepest of sleepers. “Y/N!” He shouted, perhaps a bit too loudly for the comfort of his children.

He turned you over and that’s when he knew this was very, very, bad.

Your face was pale grey and your mouth was covered in the remains of vomit, and he suddenly understood the gross sour smell from before. Your hair was greasy and stuck all in the wet sick all over your face. Your eyes were puffy from the remains of tears. You looked dead.

“No, no, no. Y/N! No you don’t.” Harry’s eyes starting weeping and he couldn’t think straight. He checked your pulse on your wrist and timed it - it was unhealthily faint. He wouldn’t be surprised if you were in your last beats of your heart. His tears and sobs were uncontrollable, but he had to be both strong for you and his children, as well as for him. “Fuck sake pull yourself together Harry. Okay, baby hold on please. Okay? You don’t get to leave me like this, you hear me? I love you so much, baby. Fuck i’m so sorry.” He gently placed your head back down on the pillow and pulled out his phone.

999

“What’s your emergency?”

“I need a-an ambulance p-please. I-I think my wife i-is dying.”

The rest of it was a blur for Harry. Him trying to wake you up. The ambulance arriving. Oli and Felix crying when they saw you being carried away on a stretcher. Belle’s deafening screams. Harry’s heart beating for the both of you.

Beep. Beep. Beep.

It was the rhythmic beeping sounds that woke you up.

Your whole body felt achey and sore, your head a pounding mess. You opened your eyes slowly, adjusting them to the light of the room. You expected to see the family photo on the wall opposite you and the white of your curtains, but you were met with a heart-monitor machine and a hospital bed instead. You looked down at your body and noticed a cannula in your arm, making you squirm because you hated stuff like that so much. Your nose had a tube running inside it too, feeding you the oxygen your lungs weren’t receiving properly.

It then dawned on you how you weren’t in the room alone. You saw a sleeping Anne and Gemma on the chairs in the far corner, with Felix and Oli tucked against their sides - Anne with Oli and Felix with Gemma. It was so cute to see them so cuddled up close. They looked peaceful. You took note of the baby pram that was at the end of your bed, most likely playing bed to your beautiful daughter. Your mind felt lost. You can’t really remember what had happened, apart from taking four of those sleeping pills. You fully remember the weight of feeling worthless and useless as both a mum and a wife, though, and that feeling was still very prominent.

Your eyes lastly landed to the side of you, where Harry was sat but also laid on your bed. The top of half of his body laid upon the bed, his head buried onto this arm deep within the bed, whilst his bottom stayed rooted to the chair. His hand was holding yours tightly, which was a sign that he wasn’t asleep. You were so scared to face him though. You had failed him, again and again and you weren’t sure whether you could be enough for him anymore. Enough for your family anymore.

You squeezed his hand three times saying ‘I love you.’

“Y/N,” He whispered so hoarsely, but you were so focused on him to even catch it. He looked ruined, and you’d done that to him. His eyes were dark and tired, but also red and puffy from where he’d been crying. His hair was a mess and you could tell it hadn’t been washed in a while. How long had you been out for? You felt rested in your sleep, but not in your mind or your heart.

“I—” Your breathe got caught in your throat, but you persevered to finish your words. He deserved to here them. “I’m sorry.” You were whispering so you didn’t disturb anyone else in the room.

“No, stop it. I’m sorry baby.”

“Harry don’t, you don’t have anyt—”

“Stop yes I do I—”

“Harry please you don’t owe—”

“Y/N listen!” He cut the little volley-conversation and ordered you to just stop. You started crying when you saw that he was too. “Whatever you’re going to say, don’t. Whatever you’re thinking, stop it right now. Because I love you. Fuck, I do. I love you so much that when I found you unconscious in a pile of your own sick thinking you were dead, my only thought was that I wished it were me instead”.

“Harry, you don’t mean—”

“My god Y/N! You don’t get it, do you? I would do anything to switch places with you right now. I would suffer a thousand times over if it meant you were okay. I’d suffer in hell for you. Nobody else but you has ever made me feel like this. I married you because I love you and I want to wake up next to you every day of my beating hearts life. I chose to have children with you, because I knew how great of a mum you’d be and what beautiful people you’d help bring up into the world—”

“But i’m not.” You cut Harry short, trying to pull your hand away from him but he didn’t let you - only tightening his grip and pulling himself closer towards you. He was so close you could kiss him.

“Not what?” He asked, although he already knew the answer. You’d both had this conversation before, but you were both tired of it and were ready for it to be your last now.

“A good mum. I’m- i’m not a good mum or wife, Harry and i’m sorry.”

“I told you not say it and stop thinking it, because you’re completely wrong Y/N. You’re a good mother and a good wife, because you are a good person.”

“But i’m not great.” You whimpered, thinking back to the drawings your Oli and Felix had done. “I’m not the best.”

“But you don’t have to be, baby. You see our beautiful, healthy, happy and safe babies over there?” Harry turned to look at them, love in his eyes as in yours. “They wouldn’t be all those things, no matter how you feel about yourself, without you. I could never have brought them up to be half the people they are without you by my side, the way you make me a better person. You claim you don’t got this, but baby you’re already doing it and have been doing it for 5 years with our children and so much longer with me.”

“I’m just so fucked up Harry.” Your head tilted back on the pillow as you got heavily emotional over the situation.

Harry shook his head and moved his hand to cup the back of your neck, moving your head forwards until it met his. The touch of his skin against yours, no matter where and how small, made you feel alive and you’d missed him and that feeling so much. You missed loving him so much.

“Listen to me.” He ordered, keeping you still. “You are strong and you are brave Y/N Styles. No matter what you tell yourself I will be here every goddamn day of my life, if I have to, to remind you that you are worth more than your fucking weight in gold. You are my heart. You are my soul and the mother to my greatest achievements. I know they are yours too, just as I know I am your heart.

“You are.” You whispered so quietly under your breathe, but Harrys heart warmed when he caught you saying it. He knew though.

“Just let me love you. Let me be there for you. If you want medication then let’s do it, and i’ll be there for every step of the way. If you want to go to a rehabilitation centre for a bit, that’s okay we can—”

You shook your head and licked the tears away from your face. You were both such tearful messes, but the love between you was undeniable. “No, no please, no.”

“Okay, okay, love. We won’t. See, you’re okay. I promise, you’re okay. Stay with me, yeah? I’ll love you and keep you safe, just as you will me.”

“Promise.” You told him sincerely. He brought his lips to yours with that single word. He was so proud of your for being so brave and strong. He wishes he was half the person you were. His lips conveyed those thoughts of his and you could taste the love and passion burning through his heart and out on to his lips. He tasted like home. z he was home. Your lips smacked together messily, but you didn’t care because you loved each other too much and had kissed each other even more. Once you pulled back he stayed close to you, smiling at you with such awe. “I think.. I think I want to try medication please.”

Harry didn’t say ‘okay’ or ‘sure thing’, no. He said four words that meant more to you in that moment that any others in the universe. More than saying ‘I love you.’ Words that reminded you that not everything is okay and that sucks really bad, but you’re doing your best to get through it. It was a reminder that you had so many people who loved you and cared for you. It was a gun at the starting line symbolising that the journey ahead wasn’t going to be easy, but worth it.

“I’m proud of you.”

[sanosoup]

now playing…

…𝐛𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧 𝐟𝐭. 𝐦𝐢𝐭𝐬𝐤𝐢 𝐥𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐜𝐬…

angst drabbles w/ bonten inspired by mitski lyrics!

♪ a/n: first post, why not make it sad ;) i might make a part 2 w others or maybe like another artist idk i just thought this might be a fitting post considering my theme wink. also this is just my interpretation of the little snippets of lyrics, def not trying to claim i know the actual meaning! this isn’t my best but i love the concept sooo pls forgive me if it’s a little rough 😰

♪ warnings: angst, mentions of heartbreak/toxic behavior?, unrequited love, mentions of drug/alcohol use + addiction, mentions of vomit (nothing graphic), fwb relationship, just unhealthy coping mechanisms :) 16+ ONLY (<16/ageless blogs dni with this post or my account)

♪includes: mikey, sanzu, ran & rindou

#—mikey

—

“And then one warm summer night

I'll hear fireworks outside

And I'll listen to the memories as they cry, cry, cry”

- fireworks -

—

mikey hates summer, the lengthy days, some dry to the bone, some dampened by the morning fog that tended to linger throughout the day. he hated this day in particular, and he hated how he could see everything transpire from his apartment window, and how he couldn’t even pry his lingering stare from the festival if he tried. mikey couldn’t tell if it was just his rampant imagination, or if he could truly hear the merriment, the giggles, the sound of two lovers hearts beating as a symphony down below in the festival. he sat perched, waiting, listening, watching for even just a glimpse of a face that looked enough like you from how high up he was. there was no one, after all, he’s the one who extinguished whatever flame the both of you shared with his calloused icy fingertips as though it were nothing.

mikey hated summer nights even more, how the cicadas wouldn’t seem to shut up, even in the city; how the festival was still blooming with light and joyous calls of each other’s names. he hated how everything reminded him of you, and he hated how he never let himself feel you anymore. the image of you, engraved in his mind had been long drowned in the sands of time, your smile was nothing to him but ash. he tensed upon hearing cacophony of words that rolled off of people’s tongues all at once, perhaps maybe one or two of those words sounded like your name, but it never sounded right. why should i mourn? he questions, when there is nothing for me to mourn?

the sky lit up deep into the night, fireworks booming and cracking across the sky like explosions of vivid lightning sent from the heavens. each one a different color, impossibly shimmery as they hissed on their way down, burning out before they could ever reach the ground. mikey hates that when the bright hues of the night sky illuminated his face from where he watched on his balcony, all he felt was the way you’d squeeze his hand every time another boom would erupt. it was a special memory hidden deep in the nook of his youth he had since forgotten, something that made the image of your face and sound of your voice, laughter, your sobs, all so vivid in his brain. a hot tear rolled down his cheek. he hurt you, so in turn, in the most raw moments of the night, he feels his skin set aflame and burn in silence. the pain, nearly unbearable, made his ribs feel so hollow and his hands feel so heavy; quiet tears flooded his cheeks and raced to his chin, bracing to fall to the ground. this is what he wanted, isn’t it?

#—sanzu

—

“I am a forest fire

And I am the fire and I am the forest

And I am a witness watching it

I stand in a valley watching it

And you are not there at all”

-a burning hill-

—

sanzu has lost count of how many week long benders he’s been on throughout the years; it always started with a pill, a needle, a lighter, anything he could touch, and he’d almost always end up in your arms. you were a soft warmth, like sun beaten leather, a rough contrast to the unstoppable red roaring flames that were his highs and his coming down. sanzu must admit, you had since become a routine of his, he almost always relied on you to come around when he felt himself start to sink; he had a sickly tender regard towards your frantic drives to hospitals or scurrying across your house to give him something to throw up whatever he could in. he felt the least alone when you desperately held him against your chest and he listened to your heart race, did you really care for him that much?

sometimes he wished he wasn’t like this, a good man perhaps, good enough for you. moments when his head wasn’t clouded by whatever ran through his body were moments spent pondering what could’ve been. he wasn’t sure why he did this to himself at times, but when he thought too much about it, it made him want to do it again. to feel that rush of falsified euphoric splendor, to be free, to fall, and to land right in your arms where he was finally safe again.

sanzu was falling, almost certain you’d be there to catch him, he’d let himself. what a surprise it was when his head hit the cold tile and he felt as though his brain was splattered across the floor in a lovely medley of everything he never was. he had flown too high, drifting across silver clouds and stars, that he never saw you leave your steady position on the ground. it was too late when he realized you were all too smart for him; smart enough to realize that the uncontrollable wildfire ignited in the both of you was sparked only by him. he’ll stand and burn, he’ll let you escape.

#—ran

—

“I could stare at your back all day

And I know I've kissed you before, but

I didn't do it right

Can I try again, try again, try again”

-pink in the night-

—

ran, as cold as he likes to be, can not help that he holds a special regard for you; you made him utterly sensitive, like a child, tears brimming in his eyes at the smallest of notions that you wouldn’t be around anymore. how could he be so careless with something as priceless as his affections? you were, after all, just a friend with benefits. though, he couldn’t help but feel something in his chest churn and beat for more than the quick, hollow touches the both of you shared. he wanted every touch you graced upon his warm skin to be calculated, well thought out, as if seeking more than carnal pleasure.

he was still awake, so silent and weak in these hours that a brush of wind could possibly turn him to dust, nothing more. beside him, you lay, nestled up to your chin in his sheets as your chest rose and fell slowly with the gentle breaths of sleep; he stared, afraid that something so delicate as your constant breathing would stop, that there’d be nothing he could really do about it at all. the thought horrified him, it played with the chords of his tender heart as he stared at your back dancing with the slight movements of breath as his only solace. ran could truly admire the expanse of your back, shoulder blades peaking out in the slightest, and soft skin lit only by the silver licks of moonlight peaking through the windows.

ran never wanted to stop looking at your bare body under the covers, he couldn’t hardly contain himself when you lingered in his bedroom, a silent announcement that you’d stay until morning; it was cruel, the both of you knew this, to sleep beside each other as if it were anything more than it was. yet, in a sense, his stomach leapt with joy to pretend as though it was; he was high off of that faint extra beat in his heart he always got whenever he lied. ran drew in a breath as you rustled in the sheets, the sound of your body flooding his ears and making his heart leap to his throat. his eyes grew watery as he watched you fall back into the deep abyss you had been floating in before, he would miss nights like this when they came to an end, nights where he pondered if you would truly be the only person he thought of like this. ran sighed, surely you were once in a lifetime, and surely he hadn’t held you close enough; then, he was certain, you wouldn’t have left him grasping for answers as though they were there at all.

#—rindou

—

“I found you

I found the door

But when I stepped through

There was no floor”

-i want you-

—

if rindou where to die right now, he would be satisfied. satisfied that he spent his nights in your arms and his days lingering over you; what did you feel like, again? he forgets, only to remember when he touched you again. you were perhaps a dream, so quick and nonsensical, yet he thought of you quite frequently throughout the day. it had been that way since high school, “they’ve got a boyfriend, y’know?” he knew; and he knew when you had broken up, when you had gotten back together with him, when you moved on from him, and when you looked for another option in someone else, eyes always grazing over rindou. rindou feels hollow sometimes, always wondering if you’d ever be able to fill such an obscure nook in his heart that no other lover of his ever had.

he waited for the moments in which you exchanged touches in between separate lovers like windows of spare time you spent with each other; though, he found himself addicted to it, wanting more than you gave him, and when he found himself courageous enough to ask for more, you had already found someone else to give it to. rindou occupied himself with girls, boys and nearly anyone else who didn’t remind him of you, but his wistful imagination always wandered to the idea of you when he knew it was so wrong of him to even ponder your image anymore.

there you stood that warm night in june, plain and lonely, and he as well. the both of you shared freshly broken hearts, raw from the feeling you had peeled from them and tossed to the street as though they never served you any good. rindou wanted your touch again, he looked into your eyes and could see the hunger you held as well; though, this time was different. he felt like nothing more than a fool for doing this to himself, making his heart so numb and calloused that he couldn’t feel anything except for the parts of his lovers that reminded him of you. yet, when he touched you, his tender affections had extinguished at the hands of his own cruel treatment. so in love with the idea of not feeling for you, that he truly gave up feeling, rindou felt his throat swell and his breath hitch as he struggled to feel sad or angry. he felt nothing, nothing besides the cruel sting of disappointment.

perhaps in another life.

play again?…reqs and askbox are open!

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