#the depths of the blog

[loafbud-wc]

the prophecies begin protagonists... as pokemon starters! 💧🔥🍃

[ogpromiscuouspaperplanes]

[cod-dump]

Soap: So... you saw me eat that hot pocket I found in the garbage Konig: Yes Soap: Any thoughts on that? Konig: No Soap: Oh man, I like you

[officialbruciewayne]

ooc.

Batman cannot kill because he should not kill.

Bruce Wayne should not kill because he cannot kill.

[imjustavenuxwithaboomerang]

they can never make me hate you

(collage by me)

[breezebloxx]

burn gorman iceberg chart but it's just all the weird shit i've learned abt him over the last year. the info gets more obscure as you go down

[lupinmoonlight]

Between Classes

Masterlist AO3

Summary - You visit Remus Lupin in his office during school hours. Ever the caring and overprotective boyfriend, he questions you about your self-care habits. He notices your exhaustion and, despite your deflections, gently scolds you for skipping meals and losing sleep over studies. Don't worry, though, you're still his good girl (839 words).

Warnings - teacher/student relationship, age gap, kissing, discussing self-care, mention of stress, mention of snape (love him tho), fluff, mention of eating, some "good girl", my grammar (english is my 2nd language), not proof-read.

Notes - I don't know what this is guys. I'm tired. I submitted two papers in two weeks. One to a journal, one to a conference. I needed to write something soft and fluffy I guess. I need him.

Remus was gazing out at the grounds from his office, a sigh escaping his lips. The day had been relentless, a blur of staff meetings, frantic students, and the gnawing worry that loomed over him when the full moon approached. He closed his eyes for a moment, trying to relax before his next class.

His peace, however, was interrupted when the heavy door of his office burst open. He tensed momentarily, but relaxed as the sight of you. His sunshine, his secret, his love. As soon as you entered, you ran to him and jumped into his arms. Remus caught you easily, closing the door with a flick of his wand and warding it. He wrapped his arms around you properly, holding you close.

"Hello, love," he greeted you, kissing the top of your head. "You know you shouldn't be here between classes…" he admonished gently.

"I missed you," you murmured, burying your face in his chest.

"I missed you too," Remus replied softly. He lifted you gently and sat you down on his desk, then leaned in to kiss you.

"How is your day going?" he asked, his eyes filled with love and concern as he noticed how exhausted you looked.

"Ugh, it's so stressful" you admitted, your shoulders slumping a bit dramatically. "I'm swamped with homework and exams. I barely have any time to breathe."

Remus stroked your cheek tenderly as you spoke, his touch grounding and soothing. "I'm sorry to hear that, sweetheart," he said gently. "What's got you so swamped in particular?"

"Essays, mostly," you huffed. "Snape's essay on the Bezoar is probably the worst. I swear, this man thrives on making everything miserable."

Remus raised an eyebrow, a gentle smile tugging at his lips. "Professor Snape is not so bad. He's just a bit…ah, passionate?"

You mocked a glare but it was quickly subdued as you leaned into his hand. "If you say so, Professor," you teased.

Remus kissed your forehead. "Have you been at least taking care of yourself?"

You fidgeted under his gaze. You knew you hadn't been. Sleep had become a luxury you couldn't afford. Your body was running on hurried bites of toasts and gulps of pumpkin juice. And Remus knew that. He knew you too well. And it was slightly annoying.

"I'm trying, honestly," you mumbled, avoiding his eyes. You hated disappointing him.

His brows furrowed, and he gently held your chin, tilting your face up so he could see your eyes. "Trying isn't enough, love," he said firmly, although his voice had remained soft. "You're running yourself ragged. You'll burn out before exams even start, and then what good will it be?"

You sighed. He was right. As always. But time management wasn't exactly your forte.

"I know…" you admitted in defeat.

"Have you eaten properly today?" he pressed.

"Yes. I mean, I had lunch. But I skipped breakfast because I was running late."

Remus frowned slightly. "Good girl for eating lunch, but you need to do better with breakfast. It's important."

"Yes, Professor Lupin," you said, playfully rolling your eyes.

"Very good," he praised with a soft chuckle.

He tilted your chin up to kiss you. "And what about sleep? Have you been getting enough rest?" He knew you haven't been, but he wanted you to admit it.

You hesitated, then shook your head. "Not really. I've been up late studying."

Remus sighed softly, his thumb brushing your cheek. "You need your sleep, sweetheart. Promise me you'll try to get to bed earlier tonight."

"Okay, okay. I promise," you said sincerely.

"Good girl," Remus murmured, kissing you again. "You need to take care of yourself, for me and for you."

"Yeah yeah yeah," you giggled, wrapping your arms around his neck in an attempt to distract him.

"Alright, love, it's time for you to get back to your classes. I don't want you to be late," he said as he pulled away reluctantly.

You pouted, clinging to him for a moment longer. "But I don't want to go. Can't I just stay a little bit longer?"

Remus chuckled, shaking his head as he lifted the wards. "No, you can't. You've already broken our rule about no visiting during school hours." He tapped your nose playfully. "Besides, I don't want you getting into trouble because of me."

You rolled your eyes again but smiled. "Fine, Professor. I'll go."

"Good girl," he said with a grin. "Now, off you go before I change my mind and keep you here for detention myself."

You giggled, giving him a quick kiss. "I wouldn't mind detention with you."

"You're impossible, you know that?" he said, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Yep," you replied, "but you love me anyway."

"That I do," he said, pulling you in for one last kiss. "Now, get to class, Miss."

You sighed dramatically but turned to leave.

"Don't forget to eat breakfast tomorrow! And remember, early bedtime tonight."

"Yes, Professor Lupin." you replied teasingly.

Remus shook his head with a smile. "See you later, love."

[prodigaldaughteralice]

I’m not against fics where Nimona calls Ballister her dad, that can be super sweet, but I’m not actively drawn to it either— they’re definitely family now, but putting father/child names on it just doesn’t feel super necessary to me

however

I do think it would be super funny if Nimona grumblingly called Ambrosius her shitty stepdad, having never called Bal her dad before

and both boys are just like 🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺🥺

[skunkes]

x

[respect-the-locals]

🐙 Daily Cephalopod Fact: 🐙

Dumbo Octopus: The name "dumbo" originates from their resemblance to the title character of Disney's 1941 film Dumbo, having two prominent ear-like fins which extend from the mantle above each eye. Dumbo octopuses are the deepest living octopuses known, with some specimens captured or observed at hadal depths (20,000 to 36,000 ft) below sea level.

[docileeffects]

[willowser]

angsty to begin with bc i love to talk about fighting with bakugou LOL but it gets lighter, i promise 💕✨️

you can track katsuki's heated discovery through his footsteps.

the front door closes harshly enough that the house trembles, echoing down your spine at his arrival; it feels sudden, now, though—looking at the clock—you've been waiting for hours. his day has no doubt been just as tumultuous as yours, but his resounding frustration—both new and old—bleeds through the walls all too well.

it means something that he doesn't take off his boots; what's always been regarded as a criminal offense now bares his impatience, reveals how full his mind is of the things he needs to say. underneath the comforter, your toes curl, heart thudding heavy as his heels as he lumbers for the bedroom.

—only to come up empty.

an indistinguishable curse shoots from his mouth, across the house. first murmured and then chanted over and over again as he tears down the hall and back into the living room. you've left your shoes out for this reason, as well as a plate in the sink and a candle burning on the end table beside the couch.

you're still here; you want him to know that.

it's silent long enough for you to realize you're holding your breath, straining to hear his every move. your cheeks are salted with tears—both new and old—and you wipe at them cautiously, as if such a movement could give you away; it's not that you want to stay hidden, but you're nervous for what will unfold, when he finds you.

not because you're afraid of him, never of him, but—you just don't want to fight anymore.

the door to the guest room is thrown open suddenly, with an urgency that makes your heart pound and your eyes snap shut.

katsuki smells like work, strongly; sweet and musky like sweat; a once-roaring campfire; evidence of the city—smog and fried food and some amalgamation of strangers—soaked into the fabric of his hero clothes. you sniff once, wet and distracted, and it gives you away instantly.

the sound makes him sigh, though from relief or annoyance, you can't tell. maybe both. a weight he's placed on your chest dares to lighten as he shuffles closer, no doubt dragging mud across the carpet, and the warmth of his body so close is all too alluring; you peek up at him once he sits at your side, but he's just leaning his elbows onto his knees, staring at the wall.

"guess you're sleepin' in here, then."

this bed lacks the indentation you've worn into katsuki's mattress, but the comfort of it wouldn't help you to sleep anyway. not after today. after all that's been said.

your voice is very small when you speak, tip-toeing. "yeah, i think i will."

he shakes his head like you're being ridiculous, and you try not to let the action prod your still tender wounds. a harsh hand runs over his face and through his hair, tugging off the mask that had been buried there. it dangles loosely between his fingers as he fiddles with it, keeping his eyes from you as long as he can.

"y'want me to stay in here too?"

you don't. it's the whole reason you moved your pillow into the guestroom to begin with and you think he should know that, but he's still—trying. a fresh frog develops in your throat at the sentiment; it's always the softer side or katsuki that packs the heavier punch.

a weighted silence settles in the space between you, the words sour in your mouth. for a brief and tense moment, you wonder if you can get away with not saying it, without having to reject him—but then he peeks at you over his shoulder, all smoldering embers. waiting.

"that's okay," you offer a weak smile in an attempt to soften the blow. "you can have the room tonight."

katsuki rears, resisting with a huff. "well, i don't have to. and you—we can—y'don't have to sleep alone."

still trying; you can hear it in his voice, well-hidden beneath his exasperation, a slight tremble born from the fear that you'll leave him in an empty bed. so far removed from the tone used with you this morning.

you can still see his face when you close your eyes: how red it gets, the vein in his neck that swells with blood when he's yelling, lips curled like he's so angry he could spit. the argument hadn't started on any serious note, but you had something to say and so did he, and it went on and on until you were fighting less about the subject matter and more about each other. rights and wrongs that had been left unattended for too long, that had begun to fester.

it's not like you were particularly soft-spoken either, but—like most things, with katsuki—you didn't stand a chance against him.

"i know, but," you bite your lip and lose your words, settling for a shrug that only serves to annoy him further.

"fine," he grumbles, shooting up from the mattress to storm out of the room. "whatever. goodnight."

the door follows closely behind him, banging against the frame with less force than it could have, though the silence he leaves behind feels just as painful. you roll onto your back to wipe at the fresh wave of tears that pool in your eyes, groaning quietly into the emptiness.

fighting with katsuki isn't the hardest part. making up is.

it took long enough for him to place his heart comfortably in your hands, to reach the point where he felt safe enough to share his feelings with you, but his trepidations lie in wait; any sort of rejection when he's already so vulnerable is liable to have him locking his every last door.

and you know he doesn't mean it; it's instinctual, a defense mechanism he's kept in place all his life. retreating away to hide, when he's sorry and asking for absolution, is the safest route for him.

when you're finally done pawing at your eyes, the shower sounds from down the hall and you imagine him in there, head bowed under the violently hot water, trying to wash his frustrations away. his skin is always so pink and tender when he gets out, and you feel a pang of loneliness at what you'll miss in a bed without him. for tonight, all you have to hold is the idea of him, and you listen closely to the stream as if it will offer something more.

it runs for long enough that you begin to forge an excuse to go in and check on him, but just as you start to justify it, the water shuts off. you feel thwarted—though it was a silly plan—and the hope of getting to see him for one final time tonight crashes, has tears welling up again.

but before they can spill over, a soft knock sounds at the door.

you turn away despite wanting for him, and answer. "yeah?"

the door creaks, room warming with him in it. katsuki doesn't say anything until you finally roll over to look at him, his hair damp and flat, forehead resting against the wood as he watches you from the corner of his eye. head bowed, like a scolded child.

"'ve got...shit to do with my old man tomorrow." he murmurs. "but i should be back by lunch."

even if you are at odds, another bout of loneliness grows at the thought of waiting, sitting in the house without him. "okay, thank you for letting me know."

just barely are you able to make out the shift of his eyes down to the carpet, the growing frown on his face before he groans quietly to himself. when he stands properly, you admire the soft curve of his muscles, his shoulders, as he crosses his arms over his bare chest.

"goodnight," he tells you again, nicer this time. you whisper it in return and there's some finality, for the night; his jaw cocks and his head shakes again, like he can't stand this shit. you know he can't. katsuki squeezes his eyes shut tight and when he fixes them on you, they are full and sad, but he doesn't look away. not this time. "y'know...that i love you, right?"

your restraint buckles, nearly slipping through your hands, and you sit up to catch it. more than anything, you want to open your arms and allow him into this bed with you, the way you always do, but your sore heart stops the words from forming.

instead you tell him, quietly, seriously, "and i love you too, katsuki."

his frown only deepens and he turns with a heavy sigh, dragging the door gently behind him.

katsuki's all might mug is waiting on the edge of the counter the next morning, still steaming.

for you, because he doesn't drink coffee, and when you step up to it, you can tell by the color that he's added too much cream. the gesture makes you smile regardless, softening aches and pains from the night before.

he doesn't say anything when you sit at the bar counter, doesn't look up either, just continues putting away whatever he's used to make his protein shake. you can see the tension still lining his every move, the bob of his adam's apple as he swallows hard and ducks his head and acts like you don't exist here at the end of the kitchen, waiting.

twice he walks by without saying anything, busying himself with a backpack sitting by the couch. he spends a few minutes staring into the hall closet before grabbing a jacket you haven't seen him wear in months, and then he sets it with his other things and strides back to the kitchen and—has to face you.

the shadows under his eyes are dark and heavy, like he didn't get much more sleep than you did.

"shouldn't take me all morning," he speaks softly, like he would to a newborn. so, so far from how he spoke to you yesterday. "if y'need somethin' while i'm out, just—" call him, he means, though he trails off with a shrug.

"okay," you nod and sip your coffee, accepting his olive branch. "i will, thank you."

katsuki chews on his lip before finally returning to the living room to gather his things, and he waits until your back is to him before speaking again. "unless you don't want me to go." he huffs, like he's already frustrated. "i can stay and we can...figure all this shit out."

"no," you shake your head and swivel around to frown at him. "no, you should go spend time with your dad. we can talk later."

"'s not a big deal if i cancel, i can call him right now if you want me to stay."

"no, katsuki, i wouldn't want you to do that." your brow furrows and the knot that gets stuck in his throat is almost visible, as his gaze shifts to the wall beside you, avoidant. "i think it'd be good if we—"

"fuck, if you want me to get out, just say so."

"no, that's not—" the irritation you felt yesterday wakes once more and your stomach twists at the fear that this will devolve into another screaming match. your already thin patience snaps, echoes like the ceramic of your mug against the counter when you set it down. "i'm not saying that. at all. i just don't think you should cancel on your dad if you've already made plans. you said yourself it's not gonna take all morning, so we'll talk after."

"well," he scoffs, indignant, throwing his arms up in the air like he's exasperated—but you don't miss the slight wobble of his chin, how long it takes him to sound out his own words. "you even gonna be here when i get back?"

"well, yeah, honey, where else would i—"

"'m not gonna come home 'n—" he waves a hand, clearing his throat as he forces himself to stare at the ceiling. "'n all your shit's gonna be gone?"

you deflate instantly, watching the sharp work of his jaw until he's having to blink rapidly, over and over again as his eyes gleam. the bar stool scrapes across the floor with an ugly sound as you slip out of it, and katsuki only throws you one brief, bloodshot glance before you bury your face into his chest.

still on guard, his arms don't move, don't come to wrap around you—but you can feel the small huff that leaves his chest. the tip of his nose as it dips into your hair.

with your cheek to his chest like this, all you can hear is the rapid-fire beat of his heavy heart. "i would never just leave you like that." all you get is a half-shrug in response, voice to fragile to sound. "i'm—we had a fight, but i still love you, katsuki."

he shrugs again and shakes his head, staring glassy-eyed at his cabinets when you look up at him. "well...'m sorry."

"i know," you murmur, nuzzling your cheek into him again. in your hands, his heart is heavy, and your own mirrors its ache; has he always been like this, expecting the worst? or is this a wound suffered from another? you squeeze him a little tighter, until his breath hitches. "and i forgive you, but my feelings are still a hurt and i just need...some time, you know?"

now his walls crumble, as he finally wraps an arm around your neck so that he can press his face into your hair. "...how much time?"

you want to laugh at his impatience, the little brat that's still at his core, but you can't fault him. not when you're just as eager to leave this fight behind. to wrap him up in all the warmth you can offer. "i don't know, half a morning, maybe."

and he doesn’t say anything for a long time, as he waits for his voice to stand on its own again. even then, it's quiet, small. "...okay."

"i'm going to love you forever and ever and ever." you promise, offering him your loveliest smile when he swallows hard. "even when you don't want me to." the longer his eyes linger on your cheeks, the pinker his own get, and you can't help yourself; you stand on your tip-toes, happily, now, and wrap your arms around his neck. "can i have a kiss, please?"

katsuki scoffs, though it's lighter now, before pressing his lips to yours, softer than you expected. even though it's chaste and simple, he stays there with his eyes shut tight, like he doesn't want to ever leave. you have to pull back, because your lips start to curl and you want to laugh at him, so pliable and sweet, but he chases you, plants two more before frowning at your giggling.

"y'r a dumbass," he murmurs, and when you gasp, he throws his arm around your neck and yanks you into his chest again. the heat on his face is palpable, as he tries to tuck his vulnerability in your hair. "'m always..." katsuki tries, cutting himself off with a sharp sigh. "g'nna want this, so don't be thinkin' otherwise. ever."

you hum into him, pliable, too. melted down to his same temperature; warm, tender. you pull away to place a kiss on his cheek, more on his lips until they quirk up the slightest bit. satisfied. "i won't if you won't."

[cod-dump]

Soap to the recruits in orientation: I'm going to summarize what you're going to be dealing with here Soap: I'm so awesome and handsome that everyone is jealous of me Soap, pointing at Horangi: Asshole Soap, pointing at Roach: He's clingy and annoying and will steal your food but he's adorable so it's okay Soap, pointing at Gaz: Actually decent and pretty chill Soap, pointing at Alex: He's okay but Gaz is cooler Soap, pointing at Ghost: Crazy and violent and fun to mess with Soap, pointing at Konig: As for him... One time I knocked over his cup of tea and he just curled up in the puddle and cried himself to sleep Soap: That should cover everything! Have fun, don't die!

[kaurwreck]

forgive me if this is a stupid question but could you elaborate on chuuya and fyodor being narrative foils??

Oh, I don't really think they are! I do think Chuuya is a Christ figure, and Fyodor is a false prophet of sorts (he's really a Lucifer figure, especially considering the Untold Origins play, which I'm almost certain is adapted from The Revolt of the Angels by Anatole France, but that's neither here nor there). But not really foils.

Rather, Chuuya and Verlaine are foils, and Dazai and Fyodor are foils. Thus, it's fitting to me (and increasingly I think it's where the narrative is going) that Verlaine and Fyodor are parallels.

(Verlaine is alive because Rimbaud resides in him; Fyodor is alive because he resides in others— they're both polyphonic, in their irl literary voices, and more literally in bsd. Verlaine is inhuman as a clone; Fyodor is inhuman as a demon/conjurer. And also, this monologue by Verlaine, but in the context of Fyodor who is seeking salvation by cutting down all of humanity for being sinful and plunging the world into primordial chaos: "Rimbaud. Just once, I want you to imagine just how much it would affect a person if you told them they weren't human. Imagine how it feels to be told you weren't born with God's love, that you are nothing more than a character set someone suddenly came up with. Imagine the depths of a person's heart pierced by those words. It's a pitch black abyss where the moon can't be seen. There is no hope. There is no salvation. Do you get it?" Verlaine was so lonely and couldn't kill humanity no matter how much he claimed to hate it; Fyodor is so lonely and can't bear to kill himself without taking all of humanity with him, even as he claims to be bored by it. Etc.)

Chuuya and Dazai thrive together but apart, and I think Verlaine and Fyodor would nurture one another in claustrophobic togetherness.

[poems-of-a-lover]

i think i should have a boyfriend bc i have pretty fluffy hair and pretty big eyes and all that neurodivergent charm

[ask-lu-two-and-mew]

this is basically how it went right

Riolu is whatever the opposite of the Cat Distribution System is