#it feels like the world is falling apart and there is nothing I can do

[estellan0vella]

You're stuck with us ❀ SatoSugu (REQUESTED) Masterlist HFBU

It's a sunny afternoon, and the three of you are lounging in the spacious living room of your shared apartment. Satoru is sprawled out on the couch, lazily flipping through channels on the TV, while Suguru sits cross-legged on the floor, reading a book.

You're curled up in an armchair, a mug of tea cradled in your hands. The room is filled with the comfortable silence that only comes from being completely at ease with each other.

Suddenly, you feel a familiar, unsettling sensation. Your vision blurs at the edges, and the sounds around you begin to fade. You know what's coming, but there's nothing you can do to stop it.

You try to call out to Satoru and Suguru, but the words won't come. The mug slips from your fingers and hits the floor with a dull thud, spilling tea across the carpet.

Satoru's head snaps up at the sound, his eyes immediately locking onto you. "Hey, are you okay?" he asks, pushing himself off the couch.

Suguru's book falls to the floor as he quickly rises to his feet. "Y/N?" he calls, concern lacing his voice.

You don't respond. Your eyes are unfocused, staring blankly ahead. Your lips move, opening and closing as if you're chewing something invisible. Your hands lift to pick at the hem of your shirt, tugging at the fabric absentmindedly.

Satoru is by your side in an instant, his hand hovering near your shoulder, unsure if he should touch you. "Is this...?" he starts, looking over at Suguru.

Suguru nods, his face pale but composed. "It's a seizure."

Satoru's usual confident demeanour is replaced with a look of helplessness. He hates not being able to do anything, especially when it comes to you.

He kneels beside your chair, his gaze fixed on your blank expression. "We're here," he says softly, even though he knows you can't hear him. "It's going to be okay."

Suguru moves to sit on your other side, his hand gently covering yours to stop you from picking at your clothes. He speaks in a calm, steady voice. "We're right here with you. Just let it pass."

The seconds stretch into what feels like hours. Satoru and Suguru keep talking to you, their voices a steady murmur in the background. They know they can't pull you out of it, but they want you to know that they're there, that you're safe.

Eventually, your eyes begin to clear, and the world comes back into focus. The sounds around you grow louder, and you become aware of Satoru and Suguru's worried faces. You blink, feeling disoriented and exhausted. "What...?" you manage to croak out, your throat dry.

"Hey," Satoru says, relief flooding his features. "You're back."

Suguru squeezes your hand gently. "You had a seizure. It's over now."

You take a deep breath, trying to steady yourself. "I'm sorry," you mumble, feeling the familiar wave of embarrassment and frustration wash over you.

"Don't be," Suguru says firmly. "You have nothing to apologize for."

Satoru nods in agreement. "We're just glad you're okay." He brushes a strand of hair away from your face, his touch light and comforting.

They help you up and guide you to the couch, making sure you're comfortable. Satoru disappears for a moment and returns with a glass of water, which you gratefully accept. Suguru sits beside you, his presence a calming anchor.

"Do you need anything?" Satoru asks, sitting on your other side. "Food? More water? A nap?"

You shake your head slowly. "Just... stay with me," you say softly.

"Always," Suguru replies without hesitation.

Satoru grins, his usual playful spark returning to his eyes. "You're stuck with us, whether you like it or not."

You manage a small smile, feeling a bit more like yourself. "I think I can handle that."

For the rest of the afternoon, they don't leave your side. Satoru keeps up a steady stream of lighthearted chatter, trying to make you laugh, while Suguru ensures you're comfortable and keeps an eye on your condition. They're both protective, but not overbearing, giving you the space to recover at your own pace.

As evening falls, the three of you are still together on the couch. Satoru's arm is draped over your shoulders, and Suguru's hand rests on your knee, a silent reminder of their presence. You feel a sense of peace settling over you, knowing that no matter what happens, you have them by your side.

"Thank you," you say quietly, looking at each of them in turn. "For everything."

Suguru smiles softly. "We love you. We're always here for you, no matter what."

Satoru nods, his expression uncharacteristically serious. "You're stuck with us, remember? We're a team."

You feel a warmth spread through your chest at their words. In this moment, you know that you're not alone. You have two incredible people who love and support you, who will be there for you through every challenge. And with them by your side, you feel like you can face anything.

As the night deepens and the city outside grows quiet, the three of you stay entwined on the couch, a tangle of limbs and hearts, bound together by love and unwavering support. In their arms, you find a sense of safety and belonging that makes all the difference in the world.

[lizaaardstuff]

Hellebores (shattered)

Hey guys, I’ve decided to try something a little new. This is a fic I’ve been working on for the last month now, and I wanted to share a small snippet of the beginning with you guys since it’ll be a bit longer before I’m able to post it on ao3.

This is a Donnie centric story that will take place after the invasion (like my other fanfic), but the beginning kicks off during the end battle.

⚠️Trigger warning for this fic will include: Major Character Injury, Permanent Injury, Paralysis, Internalized Ablism, PTSD, Medical Stuff; you know, the works.

Please let me know your thoughts once you’ve read this, I’d love to hear them <3

Word count: 1,845

———

Being apart of the Technodrome was... incredible. Being so wholly welcomed into such vast knowledge and power was thrilling- world changing. He was everything. He was everywhere. Nothing was out of his reach. He could feel the space in his head expand, his senses heightened to new levels, and as long as he ignored the pain in his shell and the prickling in his limbs and the pressure in his head, he would describe this as the best experience of his life. Truly, nothing could ever compare.

And then he was ripped out.

Violently.

Without any care to what it would do to him.

And suddenly the greatest experience of his life had turned into a living nightmare. He had never felt pain like this before, and not a second too soon, he blacks out.

———

"...nie!"

"Donnie, wake up!"

Donnie's eyes blearily crack open, dizzying colors invade his senses, and he fights the urge to close them again. He can hear himself wheezing, struggling to take in a full breath. He feels his head dipping down towards his chest, and he realizes he's being held up. Blinking to try to clear the haze from his vision, he looks around to his brothers, who are all being held up by the same gooey Krang matter. Donnie almost does a double take when he sees Raph, with the Krang's influence gone, but he doesn't even get a second to revel in this new development, because Leo and Mikey are suddenly yelling for him again.

"Donnie, c'mon, you have to fight it!" Leo shouts from across the room. A flash of blue lights up the room, and Donnie can feel the electricity of his brothers ninpō light up in his chest. And now that he's focusing on it, he can feel Raph's ninpō there too, strong and steady. Feeling that spark ignites something within his own kindling, and when Mikey's ninpō joins the mix, that's all the push Donnie needs before a beam of striking purple joins the cacophony.

There's yelling, but Donnie's ears are ringing, and everything sounds like it's happening behind a wall of cotton. He sees everyone's ninpō burning away the Krang matter that was holding them up, and he assumes the same was happening to him, but he could barely feel it.

Donnie drags in a breath, feeling like he was breathing through a straw, and uses all of his strength to lift up his right arm to pull at the Krang gunk that was pulling at his neck. If I could just get a moment to catch my breath...

And then the Krang matter is gone, and he's falling.

Donnie lands hard on his side, pain flaring through the upper part of his spine and echoing out across his chest, and the impact forces a weak cough out of him that takes away the little bit of air he had managed to gain in his lungs.

"Donnie!" he hears from above, but his eyes are slipping shut again, his energy spent.

There's a soft thud next to him, and a gentle hand on the side of his face. "Donnie, open your eyes man, please. C'mon, just open your eyes."

Leo.

Donnie slowly peels open his eyes again, despite how badly he wanted to just let them remain closed. Because Leo asked nicely.

Donnie drags in another breath.

Why is it still so hard to breathe?

"There you are," Leo sighs, a confusing mix of worry and relief painted on his face.

Donnie hears quick footsteps behind him and a soft gasp, "his shell," "oh Donnie," but when he tries to turn his head to see who's talking, Leo's hand that was still on his face presses down lightly to keep his head in place. "Don't move."

Donnie's head is starting to feel light from the lack of oxygen.

"Oh my god, Leo, what do we do." Mikey. That's Mikey. Donnie's fingers twitch against the ground as he tries once again to turn his head to see his baby brother, but Leo's hand remains firm.

"We have to move." Raph. His big brother is here too. Wait...

Donnie's already unsteady breathing halts, his eyes going wide. "Wait," he croaks out, all eyes turning back on him, "if you're all here... the Krang." Donnie's words slur, and his sentence ends in another wheezing breath.

The others share a confused look above him. Leo looks back down to meet Donnie's eyes, gently taking his hand with the one that wasn't securing the softshell's head. But Donnie could barely feel it. Everything felt so disconnected and muffled. Shock, maybe.

"Donnie," Leo says sharply, like he'd been calling his name a few times. Donnie drags his eyes back up to Leo, blinking through another round of haze. "Donnie, you're holding them off. Or, at least I'm assuming it's you. There's a big purple dome around us, and you're glowing, so..."

Huh?

"Leo," Raph says urgently from wherever he is. Donnie still can't see him or Mikey. If only I could just sit up... "We still need to get the Krang through that portal." There's hesitation in his voice, and Donnie wishes he could see his face.

"I know!" Leo snaps, voice trembling and eyes brimming with overwhelmed tears. It felt so unlike him. He'd only seen Leo make that face a few times in their lifetime, and most of what he could count were from the last 24 hours. Donnie focuses solely on flexing his fingers around Leo's hand, and Leo squeezes back automatically, looking back down at him but still talking to Raph. "I know, but- we can't move him like this."

"Leo, we can't stay here," Donnie hears Mikey say from somewhere above him.

Donnie watches as a tear rolls down Leo's cheek, catching the purple lighting of Donnie's ninpō. Then Leo squares his shoulders and his face hardens, eyes glancing up to meet the others above him, and Donnie knows that he's come to a decision.

"Raph, in a few minutes I'm going to need you to pick up Dee. As carefully as you possibly can. I'll portal you down to a safe spot. Donnie actually managed to get the ship pretty close to the portal before the Krang grabbed him and Mikey, so all Mikey and I have to do is push the big guy through. I need you to watch Dee, if you can find anything hard and flat to lay him on once you're down there, that would be best. Make sure he doesn't move." Good, Donnie thinks as he listens to his twin slip back into his leader voice, Leo's got this covered. Donnie can feel his eyes slipping shut again right as Leo's eyes shift back over to him. "Dee, look at me, I need you to focus."

Donnie would have rolled his eyes at the slider if he wasn't feeling so sluggish. Instead, he tries to hum to let him know he's listening, but it turned more into a weak groan.

"Before I have Raph pick you up, I'm going to do a quick check to see how you're doing. I need you to keep the shield up, okay? Can you do that for me? No, don't move your head, I got it," Leo adds quickly, pulling their hands apart to stop Donnie from nodding with both of his hands.

"Okay," Leo says, more to himself, as he finally lets go of Donnie's head, throwing a sharp glare in his direction with one more, "don't move," as he picks up Donnie's wrist to take his pulse.

He frowns, clearly not pleased with what he's feeling, but he moves on anyways, carefully shifting his head to lean against Donnie's chest. It was difficult since Donnie was on his side, and Leo seemed to take extra care in making sure not to jostle him. Leo's frown only deepens. This check up clearly wasn't going well. Damn, there goes my perfect test scores...

Then Leo goes to check his eyes, but without a pen light to use and the lighting around them being so dim, he gives up on that, moving to hold Donnie's hands instead.

"Squeeze my hands," Leo instructs.

Donnie has to dig through his energy reserve moving his fingers, and he notices that his right hand reacts before his left. Huh. But either way, he manages to give Leo's hands a weak, lopsided squeeze, which seemed to be good enough for now because Leo nods approvingly.

"Okay, now wiggle your toes for me." The slider sits up a bit straighter to look at the softshell's feet. Or, where Donnie assumes they must be, because he can't feel anything below his chest. Donnie's never been in shock before, and after this experience, he never wants to again. Though, that's a bit redundant. No one ever wants to go into shock, that would be masochistic. But Donnie definitely would rate this experience a zero out of ten, would not recommend-

"Donnie, focus," Leo says, placing a hand on Donnie's arm, bringing Donnie back to the present. "I need you to wiggle your toes." Was Donnie becoming delusional, or was there a hint of desperation in his brother's tone? Probably both.

So Donnie wiggles his toes like Leo has asked of him, if only to ease his brother's concern.

"Donnie, seriously, man. Move your toes so we can finish this up. I know you're feeling kinda out of it right now but-"

What? "I already did," Donnie mumbles out, immediately wishing he hadn't spoken when such a simple task leaves him breathless and dizzy.

"What? No, dude, you didn't. Try again." Leo's tone sharpens, eyes going wide, despite his casual wording.

Donnie furrows his smudged brows. "What're you talkin about?" Donnie tries to get an arm under him to push himself up, turning his head towards his legs, confused, but the second he tries to move, Leo's on top of him again.

"Stop! Stop moving," Leo shouts hurriedly. Donnie can feel the sharp sting of Leo's panic through their interlinked ninpō, and suddenly there's a shift in the air. Ignoring Leo's frantic pleads and shaking hands, Donnie tilts his head up slowly, painfully, and sees the large purple dome he had accidentally created to surround them shudder. A loud pounding followed by muffled rage filled roars could be heard just outside of the shield, as the Krang leader slams his fists into the structure, clearly becoming impatient.

When the Krang brings his fists down again, the structure glitches.

Donnie gasps, along with his brothers, and by pure instinct he pushes more energy into the shield. The world starts spinning and the corners of his vision go dim as he uses up the last of his reserves, and when Donnie blinks his eyes back open, his head is laying on the ground again. Leo's shouting something to someone, and there's a flash of bright, neon blue, and there's a large arm shifting under him. The last thing he sees is a burst of purple pixels as the dome shatters before his eyes slip shut.

———

Okay so I really have no idea how to format anything on this app, so if it’s hard to read, I’m so sorry 😭

[samandcolbyownme]

Can you make like a fluff one shot with either Johnnie Guilbert or Sam Golbach x Fem reader? Like where the reader is like having a panic attack or like just stressed out of all the work the reader is doing and the hate as well (because she’s like famous of something, I dont know what so you can pick)and one of them is helping the reader be comfortable and telling her not to worry? I have no clue if that made sense but if you do make it Thanks!

Together so Well | Johnnie Guilbert

Warnings: some swearing, talk of bad day, crying, slight panic attack, one time mention of wine, mostly fluff

Enjoy!

══════════════════

Your drive home today was different.

You were silent, drove the speed limit, and your music was off.

Life has been, not easy, lately. The trolls of the internet world have come your way for whatever reason, and they’re picking apart every little thing you do.

You sat out in the driveway, staring at the house you share with Johnnie.

You were also an influencer, just like him. So, he understood how you were feeling, but hated talking about it. You didn’t even want to acknowledge them.

You let out a sigh as you get out of the car, locking it as you walk up towards the house. You walk in, looking around for Johnnie, but you don’t seem him anywhere, “Baby? I’m home.”

A few minutes later, he comes walking out, “Sorry I was finishing up a stream.” He walks over to you, arms wrapping around your neck, “How’d the shoot go?”

You shrug, “As good as it can get.”

Johnnie looks down, “I’m sensing that there’s something wrong here.” He tilts his head, hands moving to lay on your shoulders as you nod, “You would be sensing correctly.”

Within a split second, you were crying. Tears soaking your face as you clung to Johnnie while gasping for air.

His arms go around you, holding you to him as he rests his cheek against the top of your head, “Hey, baby hey.”

He shushes you calmly, rubbing his hand up and down your back, “What’s going on?” He asks, resting his hand on your hip, “Y/n. Sweetheart, talk to me.”

“Stupid fuckin’ internet trolls.” You mumble, sniffles cutting in between your words, “..having n-nothing be-tter to do. They’ve just been picking and trying to ri-rip apart everything I fucking do.” You continue, letting out a groan, “Like I didn’t even want to do this shoot today, because what’s the fucking point if they’re only going to get ravaged by the vultures?”

You start to sniffle, tears spilling out once again, “Fuck.” You slap your hands over your face, falling into Johnnie’s chest again, “I hate this. I hate it.”

“Whoa. Okay.” Johnnie gives your body a squeeze, “take a breathe, first off.” He presses a couple gentle kissses to your forehead, “I know damn well you kicked that shoot’s ass. You look so beautiful, even before you left for it.”

You give him a small smile and he tilts your chin up, “I’m really exited to see the pictures when she sends some through tonight.”

You just nod back, glancing down, but Johnnie’s hand lifts your chin, “Look at me.”

You look up at him, “You are the most beautiful girl in the world, okay.” He swipes away tears with his thumbs, “The people that pick apart what you do and how you do it, or what you don’t do.. need to have their lives picked through once, guarantee you won’t hear from them again.”

No matter how shitty of a day you had, Johnnie always pulls you back together, and for a little while he put you back together so well, you forgot about your issues almost completely, and that’s why you loved him.

You smile slightly, “Thank you, J.”

He pulls you in, gently pressing his lips to your, “Now go sit, pick a movie. I’ll get you some wine, okay?”

You nod and look up at him, “Might as well bring the whole bottle.” You purse your lips as he leans in, “I love you.”

“Already planned on it.” He kisses you again and you smile, “I love you.”

“Alright, now go. We can finish talking about it then if you want.” Johnnie nods and you smile, “I always want you telling me how pretty I am.”

══════════════════

Thanks for reading! 🖤 I love you always!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[moonxytcn]

Fem billie eilish fic. Us just being really upset and clingy. She just let's us cry and hugs us and promises to never let go.

Everything feels so… hopeless.

Billie Eilish x fem!reader

summary – the day your emotions get deeper billie is there to hug and comfort you

warnings – angst, fluffy

a/n – Thank you for the request, I hope you like it, I combined the two requests because they were very similar :)

English is not my first language so there may be some errors.

–––

The night is suffocatingly quiet, the kind of silence that presses in on you from all sides. Your room, usually a sanctuary, feels like a cage tonight. You lie in bed, staring at the ceiling, the dim glow of the streetlight outside casting faint shadows on the walls. Your mind is a storm of thoughts and emotions, all tangled up and impossible to unravel. You feel heavy, as if the weight of the world is pressing down on you, and you can barely breathe.

Billie is beside you, her presence a small comfort in the overwhelming darkness. She’s been here for hours, refusing to leave your side, but the ache inside you is relentless. You can feel her eyes on you, filled with concern and love, but you can’t bring yourself to meet her gaze. The numbness has taken over, wrapping you in a cold, empty embrace.

“Hey.” Billie’s voice breaks the silence, soft and tentative. She reaches out, her hand warm against your arm. “Talk to me. Please.”

You swallow hard, the lump in your throat making it difficult to speak. You’ve been through this before, the waves of despair that come and go, but tonight feels different. It’s deeper, more suffocating, and you can’t seem to find your way out.

“I can’t.” You manage to whisper, your voice cracking. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Billie shifts closer, her arm wrapping around you, pulling you into her warmth. She doesn’t push, doesn’t demand answers or explanations. She just holds you, her presence steady and unwavering.

“I’m here.” She murmurs against your hair. “I’m not going anywhere.”

The tears come then, slowly at first, then in a torrent that you can’t control. You sob into her chest, your whole body shaking with the force of it. It feels like you’re breaking apart, and there’s nothing to hold onto. But Billie is there, her arms strong around you, grounding you even as you fall apart.

“I’ve got you.” She whispers, her voice soothing. “Let it out. I’m right here.”

You cling to her, desperate for the comfort and reassurance she offers. The pain is still there, sharp and unrelenting, but Billie’s presence makes it bearable. You bury your face in her shoulder, her scent familiar and calming, and let yourself cry until you’re spent.

When the sobs finally subside, you’re left feeling empty and exhausted. Billie doesn’t let go, her hand gently stroking your hair, her breath warm against your skin. She’s a lifeline in the darkness, a reminder that you’re not alone.

“I don’t know what to do.” You admit, your voice barely above a whisper. “Everything feels so… hopeless.”

Billie pulls back slightly, just enough to look into your eyes. There’s a fierce determination in her gaze, a promise that she’ll never abandon you.

“We’ll figure it out.” She says firmly. “Together. You don’t have to do this alone.”

You nod, the lump in your throat making it hard to speak. The words are simple, but they mean everything. You’ve been drowning in your own despair, convinced that no one could understand or help, but Billie’s unwavering support gives you a glimmer of hope.

She shifts, lying back against the pillows and pulling you with her. You rest your head on her chest, listening to the steady rhythm of her heartbeat. It’s a comforting sound, grounding you in the here and now.

“I’m scared.” You confess, your voice barely audible. “I’m so scared of losing you.”

Billie’s arms tighten around you, her lips pressing a gentle kiss to your forehead. “You’re not going to lose me.” She promises. “I’m not going anywhere. Ever.”

The certainty in her voice soothes some of the fear gnawing at you. You’ve always been afraid of being abandoned, of being left to face your demons alone. But Billie’s presence, her unwavering support, gives you a sense of security you’ve never known.

“Do you mean it?” You ask, needing to hear the words again.

“Of course I mean it.” She replies, her voice firm. “I love you. I’m with you, no matter what. We’ll get through this together.”

The tears come again, but this time they’re different. They’re not born of despair, but of a deep, overwhelming gratitude. You cling to Billie, letting the warmth of her love wash over you, feeling a flicker of hope in the darkness.

She holds you until the first light of dawn filters through the window, her presence a constant, reassuring comfort. You’re still afraid, still battling the shadows that lurk in your mind, but with Billie by your side, you feel a little stronger. A little more hopeful.

“We’ll take it one day at a time.” Billie says softly, her voice a gentle promise. “And I’ll be here with you, every step of the way.”

You nod, finally letting yourself believe that maybe, just maybe, you’re not as alone as you thought. With Billie by your side, you can face the darkness and find your way back to the light.

[balkanradfem]

The christian side of tumblr found a post where I made a little joke about how religion puts women into servitude and it's going around gathering bible quotes and arguing whether this is about christianity or other religions x_x I never thought this day would come.. I didn't think christians were on here. And even though the majority of people arguing are christians, I never wrote down 'christianity', I meant all abrahamic religions.

I'm itching to go argue but I know deep in my heart there is nothing to be gained. These people are eager to mock and personally attack whoever is disagreeing with them and that is not a honest intellectual discussion that I crave. I think if you're religious you just have to avoid thinking things like 'why is that so' and 'isn't that awfully convenient' and 'what if this promised thing fails to materialize' because once you start having those thoughts, the entire thing falls apart.

I remember being 15 and realizing that the christian god has no actual use of us, no point in caring about us whatsoever, and no incentive to pay attention to what we do or don't do, but humans very much have a need to believe in the higher power that works to their personal advantage, and that there's someone 'up there' who will make things alright for them, that they have a higher purpose and that if they follow certain rules it will pay out. And this was enough for me to figure out that god didn't create humans, but humans created god, because humans have a need of a god, while god has no need or use for humans at all.

It was only later when I learned about feminism that I realized it wasn't only that, but that it was specifically made to control, exploit and oppress women, praising them for endless servitude, sacrifice, submission and platitude, all while consistently telling them they're filled with sin and never good enough. It's now ghoulish and bizarre to me that the symbol of their faith is a m*n being brutally tortured, that what we feel is holy is endless suffering and pain and death. We're told to aspire for that. That has nothing to do with spirituality, nothing to do with human nature or healthy and happy human lives. It's a worship of death.

There are promises that religious people make towards women, to make them believe it's a path towards true love, or endless rewards for being 'faithful' and 'pure' or a life where they feel safe from disasters, safe from being abandoned and betrayed. There's nothing in life that can guarantee that. Religion can however, offer certain people a community, it can provide services where you come and listen to stories, and stories come with morals (convenient and confusing morals, but people love engaging with moral-type stories and feeling they've learned something), it provides rituals and celebrations that cultures have integrated in their life (after it destroyed the original rituals and celebrations, but we don't talk about that), and it can provide a common ground of understanding for people (sadly the common ground is that women exist to serve and that this is natural). Sometimes it also provides a feeling of superiority for some people, enabling them to mock, humiliate and patronize others for their 'lack of religion'.

So I understand there are community related reasons a person might feel safer within a religion and having this common ground and community, common beliefs, familiarity and stories, rituals and celebrations, it doesn't come off as a horrible thing, especially when the majority of the culture does it. But other things it brings are painful for women, and often hidden. Encouraging hidden suffering, sacrifice, servitude, centering torture and death, and admiration of torture and death, instead of celebrating nature, life, the world we live in and how we interact with it. Centering males as creators when everyone alive was created by women. Dismissing wars, rape, terrorism, weapons of mass destruction, genocides and male brutality, while endlessly shaming women for having feelings and not doing a good enough job pleasing the violent males. And generally making a hell for women when they have any thoughts about sexuality or lust.

I know me writing about it here will not have any effect on people personally attacking me for being ignorant and uneducated, but it feels good to write down the thoughts I've been having all day! Being forbidden from thinking in certain direction, forbidden from questioning my own beliefs, is something that plagued me for a big part of my life, and I will not have it anymore. I can say 'this is awfully convenient' when religions declare that m*n are leaders and women are supposed to follow and serve. I can say that putting up statues of a m*n dying in torture is fucked up and morbid. I can say that making me believe that I would go to hell, for not following every order I've been given, is a horrid thing to do to a female child. And I'm happy and grateful that I can think and say whatever I want, without any threat of damnation ever looming over me.

[3lushkiii]

PENITENCE

• feeling or showing sorrow and regret for having done wrong.

Synopsis: Satoru Gojo’s demise lead him into a heart wrenching dream-like state, where all he can see is you. You and him. Him and you. People he’s lost, people he could have met.

Satoru Gojo x fem!reader, angst, mention of slight gore with Satorus injuries, Silly drabble cause i was bored, not my best work 😝

Satoru’s eyes jolt open to his heart racing, and he swears it never beat this fast before. His body feels like it weighs million and millions of pounds. He plants his hands on the ground, sensing fine grains filtering in through his fingers as he looks down, hands sinking in fine sand.

His head is spinning, his mind feels like a static. It’s like his nerves are just firing off whenever they see fit. He stands up, brushing the sand off his torso as he looks down. His shirt is torn, his stomach is a mess of blood and guts he really doesn’t wish to look at. He looks back at the sand, noticing the indent of his shape, the blood splattered across the silhouette, a menacingly sharp line of blood over his waist is the only indication of his injury.

He should have bled out. He died.

Satoru’s torso feels like it’s going to fall apart—Like some strange force is keeping him in one piece. This is all so surreal, Satoru knows it’s not reality. Its a twisted looking world, so sweet looking it makes him want to shut his eyes and ignore how much he wishes to stay. This is most definitely a dream, or the afterlife, or both. Has he really crossed to the other side to be met with just a this?

He observes the sigh of a pretty beach before him. Golden sand, a nice pink sky, calm oceans, it’s picturesque. Like a painting. He stumbles forward, trying to keep himself steady as each footstep sinks into the sand. He walks normally, not feeling any pain or discomfort. None of those stings in his lower back, not an ache in his muscles, nothing.

He walks, not seeing any difference in his surroundings. He may have zoned out a few steps in, each step so agonizingly boring he may die from that instead of the injury present on his body.

“‘Toru!” Satoru stops abruptly, eyes blown wide as he hears a voice. Your voice. You giggle so sweetly, and he looks around frantically to search for you. Any glimpse of you could make him move forward, anything to prove you’re there. Its empty, and he feels himself die a little. Such a pretty beach turned so ugly and wretched in your absence. Where the hell are you? Why won’t you run to him? He dying, for gods sake!

“Toru! Come back, don’t go yet!” Your voice speaks up, echoing in his brain as he picks up the pace, trying to search for you. Why do you sound so happy? You shouldn’t be, it’s not the right time. Satoru adores your joy, but at the sight of him split in half, you would not be giggling and calling his name. You’d be in shambles, heartbroken.

His eyes catch a glimpse of something, someone in the water. Himself? He watches his own body rise from the waves, his skin tinted pink on his shoulders, in swimming trunks and sunglasses. Sunburnt to a crisp, as usual. “Coming—“ he runs over to the shore, and Satoru stands there stunned.

What can he make of this, he doesn’t know. This other Satoru is him, and he knows it, he feels it. He’s an image in his dream. Satoru never believed himself to be so arrogant as to dream of himself all sexy coming out of the water, thats not what’s going on.

He watched the figment of himself run, and the beach seems endless until everything comes full circle. You’re on the beach towel, in your bathing suit as you chide at the sunburnt Satoru for being careless, pinching his cheek. You push him down, sitting behind him as you gently spread sunscreen on his shoulders.

Satorus breath hitches, knees feeling weak as he watches the sight in front of him. This must be hell, he’s made up his mind. Is his afterlife just him having to watch another version of himself happily in your care? it cuts him to the core.

“Y/n!” He calls out, feeling an unfamiliar throb in his abdomen. He forgets he’s dead, forgets that soon this dream, as beautiful as it is, in a twisted way, shall end. And hell fall into a twisted abyss, a cold dark sea, having failed at his duty. At being the strongest, at protecting people.

He wonders if this is karma, punishing him for his actions. Maybe in another universe, he’s as happy as the sunburnt version of him is. Laughing, smiling, spending time with you. Maybe these are versions of himself, those that didn’t die, those that got to live life to the fullest.

Your lack of a response is noted, and he continues walking, ignoring the sight as he moves forward, trying not to look back. Maybe the universe is cursing him for dying, showing him what he could have had. It feels like hes walking through millions of possibilities, each hurting just as much as the last. He walks through beaches and bedrooms, fields of flowers, wedding halls, family homes.

Another jolt of pain hits him, and he hears your voice again. He was walking trying to ignore everything, trying to power through his he sights and not make himself feel guilty for dying. He looks down, noticing bland grey tiles as your voice hits him again. So painfully beautiful.

“‘Toru, wanna hold her?”

Satoru can’t bear to look, he can’t. Seeing a possibility of that with you, its not possible. He doesn’t want to die like this, he wanted it to be peacful, filled with nothing but positive thoughts. But the ache in his heart is more than enough as he turns his head, screwing his eyes shut as he takes in a shaky breath.

He watches himself hold your baby, tears streaming down his own face as you comfort him best you can. Your daughter holds the dream-Satorus finger, fast asleep, swaddled in a pretty pink blanket. The real Satoru walks forward, staring down at the bundle of joy as another jolt hits him.

He reaches down to try and touch her, maybe get a glimpse of what could have been. Shes cute, red as a tomato, wailing like an ambulance. But she was yours, she’s yours. And he curses himself for not actually being able to experience this, envious of something that isn’t even real. His hand phases through the baby like he’s a ghost, and Satoru recoils at having his hand in your babies face. This isn’t where his place is. This is the vision of father Satoru and his baby, the mother of the little Gojo right beside him. He can’t live in their life, he can’t be the sobbing Satoru with a daughter in his arms.

Satoru steps back, trying to calm his own breathing as he begins walking again, the vision of the hospital room fading. So many versions of you two flash around him, his surroundings changing each time.

He sees more an more, from seeing Geto and Shoko, to you holding little Megumi when his leg broke as careless teenagers. To getting weird stares when you bought him clothes because people thought you were teen parents. All of it makes Satoru coil up in utter despair. He may be the strongest, but he doesn’t want to die!

He forgets how long hes been walking, a jolt of pain hitting him as he stops. A breeze washes over him, and he finds himself in a large field of white roses. The pain is getting to him, and he feels like hes been ripped apart. He has been, but thats besides the point.

He stops, eyes glued to ground. He feels as if he can see his own reflection, the ground almost mirror-like. He can’t begin to count how many lashes and gashes are on his body, the way his entire torso feels like its being held on by a thread.

would he have done things differently if he knew? Would he have joined Suguru? Made sure Haibara didn’t die? Kill Toji before he killed Riko? Destory the ugly stich faced cursed before he set Nanami ablaze?

Would he have married you if he knew he’d die? No, he wouldn’t.

As if the Satoru Gojo would leave you a widow at 27.

Would you look pretty in a wedding dress? Silly question, of course you would.

Suguru would be his best man.

Megumi would bring you your rings.

And he’d cry, he’d cry super ugly, fat tears.

But he can’t, can’t think of what else he’d do after that as he feels his body hit hard ground, feeling his body slide apart like a cartoon. This is the real world, isn’t it? Dreams don’t last forever.

His legs are gone, all he can see is the sky is a flicker of the sky, blurry and dim. Its clear, blue as his eyes. He feels warm, disgustingly at ease. He’s leaving people behind, but at last, he’s resting.

[utopians]

PSYCHO NYMPH EXILE // A SACRED AND TERRIBLE AIR

transcripts in alt text and under the cut

[image 1: black text on white background reading, "They evacuate people through the night cities, trying to outstrip perceived horizons of disintegration. These relocation attempts break down as matter ceases to perform. Fuel is water and water is air. Walls are soft. Push a truck until the wheels slough off. Sit on the couch and watch people with a little more energy take your food."]

[image 2: black text on a sepia background reading, "Then, when the stars bend under the destruction falling from above, many can no longer take the phrase “the end of the world” entirely seriously. The panic has cooled. In the strange indifference of the evacuation, whole families stay behind in Vaasa. There they play board games, in their houses, in their spacious apartments. They love vitamin-rich food, and when the pale is only a few days away, it’s always signalled by the same beautiful event. Fruits go mouldy. It grows vigorously on them. Children listen to oranges crackling on the table. Spores sprout from the pulp, apples are hairy with it. If you try to touch them, they crack open. No one knows why it’s like that. But few can muster the energy to be afraid of that time, and that's why I say it's beautiful."]

[image 3: black text on a white background reading, "Vellus and Isidol loot a mansion, kicking through walls like sand. The owner is looking for them with a flashlight, listening for the vibration of their hearts transmitted through the hollow surfaces, hunting for ghosts. They run, bending the taffy bars of the fence.

They scored a jacket and some dehydrated fruit. They curl up together in a funicular stranded on a rusty rail, cozy metal box with ashen windows, seat cushions for pillows.]

[image 4: black text on a sepia background reading, "Nothing seems to stop future ecologically-oriented projects there either. In the very last months, when the pale is creeping across the ocean towards Vaasa, lobby groups against light pollution see their grand dream come true. Industrial and commercial buildings turn off artificial lighting at the end of the working day, and street lamps are shielded with special filters. As the first and last big city in the history of the world, Vaasa completely eliminates light pollution. This isn’t just a measure against bomb raids – it also saves birds who might otherwise get lost in the city's maze of lights, and harbour seals whose mating rhythms are disrupted when the day is too long. You may laugh at this, but in the evening, when the big world in the distance swells into a bloody maelstrom, families come out into the street in Vaasa and are insignificant together. Only distant explosions disturb the deep peace of the winter night, its flawless starry sky. Everyone watches, heads tilted back."]

[image 5: black text on a white background reading, "The sun shines like a sick moon.

Holding hands, feeling her thin and brittle wrist. Rubbing her palm nervously, like you always did, leaves flakes now, ashen thumbprints.

Vellus and Isidol are becoming part of the dust storm."]

[image 6: black text on a sepia background that reads, "Like everyone else, she can't do anything in this extended stay, where one’s sense of the present slowly drifts away. But whereas the others dissolve into their memories, she simply disappears. It’s as if her life had never happened. The past is not awaiting her return. She just wanders around the rooms, adjusts her grandmother's lace doily and bedspreads, arranges the curtains on the rails. And thus, tastefully, she refuses to indulge in those ecstasies which visit the human spirit when the world is disintegrating. Nothing leaves her hands, and nothing returns.

When Katla finally sinks into the pale, Ann-Margret Lund turns, without the slightest pleasure, into a protein mass."]

[madigoround]

💜

[figofswords]

they are currently tear gassing my former classmates four blocks from my apartment. the encampment was there for literally like two hours and as soon as the sun set state troopers in riot gear moved in and started tear gassing and arresting people on the grounds of “unlawful assembly”, in a public park on a public campus of the university these students pay to attend, that I paid to attend not even a year ago. I’ve been getting university alert texts calling it a “violent protest” because a handful of students threw water bottles at these cops in their riot gear, and because they don’t need a real reason to arrest you, and because they can say whatever they want and do whatever they want and get away with it. they’ve been setting off the emergency sirens periodically, a thing I’ve only heard them do before in the event of an active tornado. there are ALWAYS christian fundamentalists on campus harassing students with megaphones, but we can’t doing anything about that. there’s breaking and entering and violent crime and sexual assault all the time but we can’t do anything about that. a kid died from hazing two years ago. multiple students have died from being hit by cars in the last few years but we don’t have traffic cops helping regulate things. but I’m just saying things we already know: the cops aren’t here for us. they’re here to uphold fascism. the university isn’t here for us. the government isn’t here for us. no one in my generation will be able to afford a house since there’s no money to excuse student debt or fix the economy, but somehow there’s money for more cops, more tear gas, and more weapons to fund israel’s genocide. I’m not at the encampment because I’m a coward and my fear of getting tasered is stronger than my desire to help. but god I’m so fucking angry.

[bongosinferno]

I'm on episode 5 of the Fallout show; NO WHAT THE HELL I LITERALLY THOUGHT TO MYSELF "MAN I'M BEGINNING TO LIKE THIS SHOW" AND THEN THEY JUST REMOVE THE NCR FROM CANNON. WHY. THAT'S SUCH A FRUSTRATING CHOICE

also STOP PLAYING ON THE NOSE MUSIC I CAN UNDERSTAND THE PLOT WE DON'T NEED CONSTANT 50S MUSIC

[bobson-dugnut]

I’ve decided i am going to do as much as I can, as well as I can, for as long as I can

[girl-bateman]

Crazy how many kids grow up afraid that someone else will find out abt their parents substance abuse issues when it is something that literally affects 1 in 8 families.

Crazy how many kids grow up feeling lonely and misunderstood while there are likely several other kids in their class going through the same thing.

Crazy how many kids grow up isolating themselves and lying to others for the protection and comfort of parents whose job it should be to protect them.

[awek-s]

sorry but the way a single interaction w my mom ruined any kind of progress I made this week is insane

[whimsyprinx]

i think I just need to stop clinging to and getting so attached to people

[tirednapentity]

I dunno man, maybe I’m just sick and tired of realizing how royally fucked I am in every aspect of my life and how badly I need to turn things around without actually knowing how to, while also constantly doubting myself. Or maybe I just haven’t slept in a while. Who knows.

[meiieiri]

when do we get to see megumi in your new series ^3^

𝐛𝐞𝐰𝐚𝐫𝐞 𝐨𝐟 𝐤𝐢𝐬𝐬𝐞𝐬 ! [toji fushiguro]

synopsis: “you really are your mother’s son,” toji grumbles to megumi as the little brat yet again refuses another kiss from him.

pairing: toji fushiguro x f!reader | art: @/amulin67 on twt/ig | hidden inventory: the lost tapes series masterlist

warnings: n/a | a/n: finally welcoming megumi to this series, yay! 💓💞

“I’m just gonna go nap for a bit. Promise me you’ll wake me up if something happens. But either way, his bottle is over there, just heat it up when he gets hungry and you know where his diapers are—“

You are interrupted by a sweet kiss that still manages to catch you off guard ‘till this day.

“I wasn’t done, you know.” You place your hands on your hips, shooting him a warning glance. “And don’t you go tossing him too high. Need I remind you, our apartment has a literal ceiling fan—“

“—You worry too much,” Toji cuts you off again with another kiss. “Not gonna lie though, seeing you all worked up like that is kinda turning me on.”

“You’re horrible,” you conclude. Honestly, at this point, almost anything and everything you do can be classified as a thirst trap for Toji. You blush when Toji inches closer, his hips pressed against yours, a smirk plastered on his face when he sneakily squeezes your ass causing you to yelp. “Ah! Toji!” you swat his hand away, burying your blushing face in his chest.

Chuckling at you, he plants a soft kiss on your temple as he pulls away. “Alright, mama, go get some rest. I’ll hold down the fort.”

“Thank you.”

No one ever told you that motherhood would be so stressful. Which is why you’re so blessed to have a supportive husband who may have started out a little awkward with caring for your newborn son but gradually became a natural with this whole fatherhood business as time went by. And that’s mostly because when Megumi arrived in this world at half past two in the afternoon of December 22 with nothing more but a small hiccup as he slipped into his papa’s waiting arms, Toji fell in love. And you don’t pretend to not know why. Because whenever you look at Megumi, your heart always just seems to melt at his pudgy rose-colored cheeks and his deep expressive green eyes that fill up with tears regardless if he’s crying or being overcome by a laughing fit whenever you pepper his tiny face with kisses.

Speaking of kisses, today’s latest fiasco is centered exactly on that: kisses.

You see, you have this habit that goes way back to when you and Toji first started dating. Toji remembers it well, you have certain moods when it comes to kisses. Sometimes, you’re the one initiating it which mostly results in Toji becoming an incoherent blushing mess, or most times, Toji gets the party started by slowly kissing up your neck, his breath hot on your earlobe as he presses his hips against yours while you slept fitfully, your hushed dulcet whines ringing in his ear as your lips instinctively find each other. Fun fact: that’s exactly how Megumi came to be.

But there are times too, when you were just not having it and you’d gently nudge Toji’s face away when he tries to kiss you.

It was a typical afternoon. Toji didn’t have work that day which was a huge relief for him because you’ve been suffering from dizziness and lower back pain all day. And being the helicopter partner and soon-to-be papa that he is, Toji keeps a close eye on you as you nap the afternoon away on the couch. He smiles softly as he sees you instinctively put a protective hand over your belly whenever you’d feel the slightest movements from the baby.

“Shhh, you’re alright,” he’d whisper to you as you slept, combing his fingers through your hair, a permanent worried frown on his face when a whimper falling from your pursed lips as the baby kicks you again. “It’s just the overgrown parasite fidgeting around.”

“Don’t call him that.” You brush his hand away, your eyebrows knitting in discomfort.

Toji chuckles, going to press a kiss to your soft lips only for you to place your entire palm on his face, applying gentle force to pry him away. “I mean, what is he then? Other than this thing that competes for your nutrients? He’s—“

“—Our baby boy.”

“—An overgrown parasite.”

Fuming at his words, you decide to hit back with a quick retort of your own. “Yeah? It really does take one to know one, huh?”

“What a cute comeback but maybe not as cute as you,” Toji smirks, his hand gently removing your smaller one from his face, his lips puckered up as he leans in. Teasingly, you place a hand over your lips, still refusing to indulge him with his much-craved kisses. “Come on, I just want one sloppy one~”

“No!” Your laughter-filled voice comes out muffled against your palm.

“Mm, yes,” Toji teases. “Yes. Come on, baby, just one.”

“You and I both know it’s never just one.”

Of course. Why else would you be in this situation if Toji knew how to spell the words: self and control? Still, it’s not like the two of you were complaining. After all, the bond you and Toji share is an unbreakable one that’s only been strengthened by time and the many trials you’ve survived together. And now, the arrival of the very product of your love is only a hair’s breath away. Toji rests his chin on top of your head, plopping down next to you and spooning you from behind. “Guilty as charged.”

And unfortunately, it seemed your son had inherited that troublesome quirk of yours and it’s beginning to break Toji’s infuriated heart because whenever he tries to give Megumi a kiss…

“Mmph—“

There it was.

Toji’s eyes shot open, grimacing as Megumi turns his head away, his eyes trained stubbornly on his dog plushie, and his chubby hands pushing his poor papa’s chin away with all the might a six-month-old like him could muster. And to top things off, he must be imagining things because newborns surely couldn’t scowl right? Their tiny little brains couldn’t possibly have enough electrical energy to charge a snow globe much less, learn how to hate certain people’s kisses.

“You little shit—“

Sure enough, the tiny little baby seems gravely unamused, his eyebrows are knitted, the corner of his lips curled into a disappointed frown as if to say: Go kiss someone else, you even bigger shit.

Toji mirrors the unfriendly scowl on his son’s face, noting how Megumi seems to be glaring at him. Oh, okay. The brat ain’t messing around, his eyes twitches but somehow, Toji is also a picture of a proud father. At least the little shit’s got spunk. And he wonders momentarily who he should blame for that.

Definitely not him, that’s for sure.

Toji doesn’t recall the last time he’s ever had the comforts of a peace like this one. Actually, this might just be the first time that Toji knew what that word meant: “peace”. A freedom from disturbance; tranquility, as per the Merriam Webster Dictionary. But Toji has a better definition for peace: you and Megumi.

But…

“I meant what I said to your mother though,” Toji engages in a one-way conversation with his son. He won’t recall any of this, but it didn’t hurt for Toji to be candid about his feelings every now and then especially when it came to this little one that came accidentally into your lives but brightened it up nonetheless. “The two of you would be better off — maybe even happier — with someone else.” He presses his thumb against Megumi’s cheek. “It’s what you two deserve.”

He’s been gone close to a whole day now and you were probably beginning to worry. Out of all the shitty things Toji has done, this, by far, has to be the shittiest. Standing outside a pachinko den, his back pressed against the wall, and his hand absentmindedly playing with the tokens he just bought. When he left the apartment that day, you knew that could very well be the last time you ever see him. Types like him aren’t keen on the whole picket fence idea of settling down.

“I’m heading out today.”

Your blood runs cold when Toji steps into the kitchen to inform you of his plans. You don’t even bother to look at him, your gaze simply settled on the positive pregnancy test on the table. The right thing to do was to stay, he should have held you in his arms and tell you that everything’s going to be okay not plant seeds of doubt in your mind by taking off and running away like a coward.

But for once, Toji was scared.

He had no business becoming a father when he’s lived in a dysfunctional household for majority of his life. What good would he even impart to his child? His pathetic existence has been a picture of disorder that was only recently resolved when you came into the picture. Well, if he were being completely honest, he still hasn’t figured things out quite as well yet. And as a father, that could be catastrophic for a child that required stability if nothing else.

Frowning, Toji leaves the pachinko den, chucking the tokens in the trash. It was far too early in the day to be hanging around shady places like these anyway. He wanders the streets for a good while, his hands buried in his jacket’s pockets as his mind swirls with thoughts about the all too terrifying future.

A pang of guilt strikes his heart and he wonders what you’re doing now. You must still be in the kitchen, your face buried in your hands as you try to think of something. You were probably assuming he wasn’t coming back. After all, you did say: “I don’t wanna pressure you into staying, Toji. You deserve to live your life the way you want it.”

A life without you? Sounds pretty miserable.

Toji must have been walking on autopilot because for some reason, he unknowingly finds himself in front of a bank. Mizuho Bank, Toji reads the sign, his eyes flicking over to one of the posters plastered on the window about opening a savings account.

He looks at the promotional material, transfixed at the picture of a family of four donning on those typical wide stupid grins in ads, the father is holding a hundred yen bill and is seen dropping it into a piggy bank that was filled with both cash and words like: health insurance, family vacation, utility bills, rent, tax, school, and…happiness.

…

…

…

Toji returns to the apartment at around eight in the evening after making a quick stop at the supermarket and the pharmacy. He finds you asleep on the couch, your cheeks stained with dry tears. He crouches on the edge of the couch, worriedly taking in your appearance. You’ve been crying. “Hey…hey, wake up,” he gently shakes you awake and your tired eyes flutter open. “Got you something.”

He holds out a shopping bag, chock full of fresh produce, and from the pharmacy, some camphor oil to relieve your symptoms and those folate supplements the attending pharmacist kept yapping about.

“You didn’t leave,” you said, bewildered. “I thought you—“

“—You thought wrong,” Toji says firmly. He pulls out something from his back pocket and you stare at him, perplexed.

“A bank passbook?” You open it to see that Toji had just made his first deposit amounting to fifty thousand yen earlier today. “You opened a savings account?”

Toji nods, looking a little proud of himself. “Yeah,” he tries to play it off with a shrug of his shoulders. “Every week, we’ll be depositing fifteen thousand yen in that thing. Ten thousand for your maternity needs, and five for the little brat’s schooling one day.”

Tears spring to your eyes upon realizing that Toji was here to stay. “You mean you’re—?” You are cut off by a warm kiss on your lips, and you place a hand over Toji’s chest, your fingertips gripping the fabric of his shirt as his lips move against yours. He pulls away after a while.

“Gonna spite the hell out of the Zenin clan and send my brat to the most expensive preschool in Tokyo? Yes, I am.”

Toji sighs, his thumb rubbing across Megumi’s chubby cheek. “But maybe — just maybe — hear me out and don’t you give me another glare.” Megumi’s not gonna remember any of this. After all, memories begin when the brain can fully register speech. But Toji felt the need to say this so, subconsciously, his son will understand just how much he’s done and he’s willing to do for the both of you.

“…Maybe I deserve the two of you too, you know.”

Megumi looks up at his father, curiosity gleaming in his eyes. Toji sticks his tongue out at the little one causing the latter to…hiccup? Nah, Toji was sure that was a giggle.

Smirking, Toji leans down to give his son a kiss, thinking he’s patched things up between them now only for Megumi to curl up again, his feet and hands resisting against Toji, his lip downturned in effort as he pushes him away yet again. Conceding, Toji grumbles, rubbing the spot where Megumi roughly pushed him away.

“You really are your mother’s son.”