#there's a lot of emotion and i'm letting myself feel it so it hurts less if/when it's confirmed that he's with someone else

[flagsontheland]

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[thebibliosphere]

Ma'am/Sir/Other

So much of your blog is "Yaya another thing in my body broke (kill me)"

I'm not judging at all, cause I'm also dealing with that somewhat but,

In the most polite manner possible;

How the fuck do you manage to function without killing everyone around you in a bodily pain induced rage.

Body hurts too much.

But in all seriousness, therapy and a whole lot of radical acceptance.

I don't approve or like what’s happening to me, but realistically, there is no way to avoid it, so I either have to accept it and make changes to my life or reject it and increase my suffering.

It might take me a while to process this change and there might be a few screaming breakdowns in the interim (”it's not fair, it's not fair, it's not fair!”) but after a long time of doing this type of therapy, I’ve gotten good at holding my own hand and holding myself through the despair.

It’s a bit like being my own gentle parent. Like “hey bud, I know this sucks and you’re feeling a lot of big emotions right now. And I’m not asking you to stop feeling them, but I do need you to eat and drink before you get sick, okay? Okay, you’ve had some water, do you want to try for a shower? No? Okay, let’s go back to bed for a bit. We’ll try later... Cry it out if you need to. I’ve got you.”

Probably sounds bonkers to some people but it's the only reason I’m still alive.

My support network is wonderful and they do so much to keep me going, but it wasn't until I allowed myself to feel my emotions and self soothe through them that things got better.

I can’t change what has been done to me. I can’t change the dynamic nature of my disabilities or the fact that parts of my body will continue to break down. But I can accept myself and say, this is the way things are: react accordingly for our continued survival.

Radical acceptance isn’t about approval or giving up. It's a stress tolerance skill that lets you look at some of the worst parts of your life and go “fuck this sucks. Okay, how do I make this suck less?” and then following through on it.

It's a skill that takes a long time to build. But it's well worth investing in.

[christinebloodwrittings]

I ran into this little darling who wanted this as a request, and I just couldn't help myself hehe, my Hobie Brown brainrot is huge xD

So I hope you enjoy it, I suck at writing his accent so, I'm sorry in advance hehe, and also Y/n is always the victim so let's shake things up a bit.

Pairing: Hobie Brown x Fem!Reader

Warnings: NSFW, unwanted drug, p in v, oral, cursing, a very drugged Hobie.

Words: 2530

Summary: Everything was going great at the concert until he went against a very dangerous perfume.

You've never felt comfortable or safe among so many people, especially in a space as small as the bars where he usually plays. But there you were, supporting him as always.

At some point in the evening, thirst had invaded you, so you asked the bartender for some water or soda, who gladly served it to you and so far so good.

"Hey beautiful, how was it?" Hobie had pushed his way through the crowd and groupies to the chair where you'd cornered to watch him play. "Loud and protestant, perfect" with emotion he hugged you, pressing your whole body against his chest, his chin resting on your head.

"I'm goin' to go to the back, store some things with the band, I'll be back to pick you up in a bit, 'kay?" Despite the fact that nothing between you and Hobie was formalized, there was a lot of affection and consideration towards the other, however he always presented you as his friend.

And how much it hurt

He always came to your rescue when some jerk made a move on you, but after that you were just his friend, and he did it because he had your back, but nothing more.

That was really getting old.

Hobie made his way through the fans again, when a girl dressed in leather and a mini stopped him, one of her hands took his face, the other grabbed the back of his neck to force him to bend him down to kiss him, but he resisted, separated from the girl's hands with a push, and he moved away fast.

After managing to get past the stage, he tripped on his feet, his mind was all over the place and his spider-sense told him something was awfully wrong. A cold feeling caught on his neck, panic crawled up his spine, he put his fingers to the back of his neck, scooping up some of a watery, clear liquid, it had a nice smell so he just assumed it was the girl's cologne.

He was in denial, so he just wanted to think there was a raid outside and he´ll have to take you round the back so you wouldn't be hurt by mistake. He didn't exactly convinced himself but it was enough to get him a bit calmed through the whole packing the band stuff up.

Right at the end, when he was picking his makeup supplies off, his sense froze him up and made him look up, in the mirror he caught on the sight of the girl that had tried to make a move on him.

The fans were leaving, soon the place was empty, Hobie was taking a lot of time more than usual, thus why you began to worry and why you went to the dressing room to find him.

That was the moment when you saw his panic eyes and the girl attempting to get her tongue down her throat. "Get the fuck away from him, bitch!" you pulled her hair and punched her on the gut to get her out of movements.

"You're my savior" he put his arm around you, being that the only way he could make a decent step, "Get out of the way whore, it will last long after I'm finished with him, then you can get your way with him" she stood up hardly, but didn't approached further, since you got out a taser, "You know, I bet no one will miss you if I just shock your senses into oblivion and toss your bitch body into the garbage" she opened her eyes to your lashing and stood there.

With a few extra help from members of the band, they managed to get him to your place in one piece, you weren't going to let him go off alone in that state.

That's when you understood, she drugged him somehow. "It's okay, Hobs, let's get you in the shower" cold water seemed to be the less weird way to handle his condition.

His hand found yours, pulling by it you hit his chest, looking up you found his face all blushed and sweaty, "It's okay, it will wear itself off, just stay" you cupped his face with your free hand, he leaned over your touch with his eyes closed, "Please?" His voice was so smooth and whiny, never in your life have you seen him like that.

"I'll stay, let's get you into something more comfortable ok?" He nodded, lazily getting out of his leather jacket and vest, leaving you to slip away his shirt, "Woah baby, if ya' wanted to get me naked, you should've asked" he had a shit eating grin, ear to ear, "Shut up, you're out of your senses" you folded the shirt lazily and left it on a chair he has discarded on a corner, so did his pants and socks, it seemed to you that removing his underwear was going a little too far, so you ignored them.

You tried to guide him to the bathroom, but he just wouldn't move from the bed, "C'mon Hobs, let's go" he refused with a whine, so you leave him there to go fill up the tub in the meantime.

You figured he would be in a different disposition when you returned to the room. A couple of minutes went by, *he probably passed out asleep* you hoped, but as soon as you opened the door of the bathroom, the sound of his moans filled your ears.

"Ah~ Y/N~♡" you couldn't believe what was happening. Taking a quick peek at him you noticed his boxers were discarded somewhere in the room, and he was stroking himself, his rather large self.

And moaning your name, *Oh God, please tell me this is a test! * heat was crawling up from your legs to your face, his moans were incredibly sexy and erotic, that was going to be well fit material for a lot of nights in the future.

"Y/n please, I need you, pretty please darling~♡" He sounded so desperate. You stepped outside the bathroom, and as soon as his eyes caught sight of you, a loving smile was painted on his face.

"I'm in a tight conundrum" he fought with his own tongue to word that out coherently, but you understood, "I feel like I'm taking advantage of you" He shook his head, making grab gestures with his hands.

As soon as you were in within his reach, he pulled you into his lap, emitting a hiss when your pelvis brushed his hard dick. "Please, I need you" He peppered kisses under your jaw and cheek, every contact on his lips and his piercing made you shiver.

His hands found the hem of your shirt, toyed with it for a second before looking up into your eyes for permission, after your embarrassed nod, he pulled it off, carelessly taking your bra as well and throwing both items away.

He started by nibbling at your collarbone, leaving small red marks along his way up to your neck. "I've wanted to do this for a long time" He panted, biting softly at your earlobe making you shift on his lap.

"You're so beautiful, so sweet, so lovely, you're always there for me" he said before kissing you, taking full control of your mouth. His hand circled your waist and the other held your neck in place, making you melt into the kiss. He then tilted his head back a bit, taking in the way you looked.

The he pulled up your shirt, he was clumsy while at it, so you finished for him, the bra following it into the darkness of a corner. The festival of kisses and bites started from your neck to every inch of your collarbone, working his way down to capture a nipple in between his lips.

His hands rocked your hips against his bulge, making his voice sing with moans and sighs, calling your name.

"I need you to say it"

"What?"

"I love you too much, say I can do this"

"Do it Hobie"

He released you, reluctantly. You tried to put yourself in a comfortable position, so you got rid of your jeans, his eyes followed each of your movements, even more so when you stood next to him.

"Where do you want me?" He didn't think twice, he pulled you by the waist to accommodate you, with his muscular body on top of yours. It was kind of silly, saying that, but with the few sexual experiences you'd had, none of them 100 percent complete, you really didn't know what to say or do. He, even in his drugged and frenzied state, noticed your shivering hands and how much you avoided looking into his eyes.

"I wish I could make it slow and special for you, but I don't feel like myself" you agreed, it's what you could do, the truth, you were uncomfortable because of the situation, the heat, not that any of those factors made you forget to have a condom nearby.

As he sensually kissed your neck, his fingers worked to open you up, slow and steady movements, his thumb brushing against your clit from time to time. Your senses were being attacked simultaneously, his teeth and his mouth sucking at the skin of your neck, and his fingers caressing your G-spot with the dexterity of a guitar player. Your back arched against his torso, an opportunity he took to hold your waist with his arm and lead you to sit on his lap, his hand still pleasing.

"Hobs, I need you" you whined, he smiled, mouth still latching down your neck, leaving several red spots along the way. Your legs were straddling his hips as he helped you get down on his dick, the length and thickness made you squirm and stop midways, he always reassured you, “You’re doing it very good, my love, just a little bit more, I’ll let you accommodate to it” speaking sweetly, brushing your hair away from your face and caressing your cheek.

When it was all the way in, very painfully so, he didn’t made any single attempt to move or you on it, he wanted to wait for you to be ready. As soon as you were, giving that you were rocking your hips slightly, he started pulling you up and down at a slow pace.

Moans and whines were filling the room, “Fuck, you feel so good” he bit gently into your shoulder, “I’m gonna lay you down princess, I need a-“, you pointed to your night stand, “Prepared are we?” he purred as he softly put you down on the covers, grabbed the condom and put it on.

“You can be more aggressive if you need” your voice came out almost as a whisper, but he caught it anyways, “It’s not that I don’t want to, I just want it to be decent” he was holding back, “Hobie, we need to get the drug out, please” Bad way for you to find out, but he had a creative thought, without thinking twice, he put your hands on your head and used his webs to tie your wrists together. Obviously your thoughts were snatched away when he propped inside again, soon the fact that he was Spider-Punk was long forgotten.

His pace accelerated, your whole body tensed up and you just wanted to be connected to him, you just wanted to keep kissing him, hugging him, if it ended and you were never like that with him again, you wouldn't know what to do. You just wanted to be like this with him, hitting every place that mattered, sending electric shocks through your body.

At some point you seemed to have passed out, but the change of position woke you straight up. On your fours, his hands pushed his shaft right into you by your hips, then he pulled you up, his arm working like an anchor across your chest, which by the way, was covered in saliva, red spots and bite marks, and so will your back as soon as he is over with it.

He wasn’t behind with the hickeys, you subconsciously left him lots of open mouth kisses, bites, he was fairly happy with each and every one.

“I know you’re tired, my love, but I’m almost there” your moans didn’t even sounded as such, they were grunts, sloppy non sexy at all choked grunts. You guys started around eleven, by the time he was almost there the clock marked three in the morning.

He finally came inside the condom, the one that by some miracle stayed on and unbroken though all the abuse the thick shaft made in your insides. Speaking of which, he was considerate enough to come out of you carefully and lovingly accommodate your body into his.

“Thank you, love” he slurred the words, his body was so big next to yours, so he easily surrounded you, arms around you, legs intertwined, he wanted all you to be with all of him.  

“How do you feel?” your voice was hoarse, “Better, tired, you?” you made a sound, it confirmed to him that you were the same as him.

"I'm still very on, I wanna eat you out" he hugged you tightly, "Maybe let me sleep a bit and then you wake me up with your face in between my legs" he laughed at you, "I'll take you up on that, love".

Around seven pinches on the insides of your thighs woke you up, turns up he really was in between your legs, hickeys adorning both inner thighs, "Good mornin' luv" he wasn't drugged anymore, just horny and hungry, giving on how he was licking and grinning.

Your back arched as soon as your brain connected with the rest of your senses, "Hobie, jeez fuck! Too damn early" you whined, getting hold of his hair, "I just obliged to your wishes" the vibrations made the assault even more intense.

"Don't talk with your mouth full" he was kind of liking the slight yanking you were taking on his hair, furthermore the tremble down your legs as you came.

"I love your sounds" he crawled up your body, gently laying down on top of you, his weight never fully on you though, he was careful, and his head fell down on the crook of your neck.

"Thank you for last night" he laced his voice with kisses behind your ear, "No problem, now please for fucks sake, sleep" he chuckled at your groggy voice, "I meant it, by the way" given your lack of response he pulled his body off of you for a bit, just to get a fair look at you face when he spoke those words that died already to come off his lips again.

"I love you" and then he smiled.

"And I love you" somehow, him being all bare for you, your case as well, made the confession deeper.

"Just so you know, you're trapped now, I'm not letting you go now" his smirk made you giggle a little, "Good, there's just nowhere I rather be than here...with you".

The end.

[drdemonprince]

Re: autistic advice; i keep seeing people making fun of stuff like "are you in a place to hear bad news" or scripts like that. I grew up in an environment where it was common practice to just drop heavy subjects on people out of the blue, & I still find that intensely uncomfortable. But I've now had multiple people tell me that it makes them feel shitty when I ask, for example, "are you up for a dark subject?" & I don't really know how to square it away. I want to make sure that I'm not stepping on anyone's toes or making them feel ambushed or trapped, but apparently it makes some people feel like they're not allowed to have their feelings. I end up feeling pretty shitty about it, because like... it feels like either I have to be Rude (because it DOES feel rude to just drop a dark topic on someone) &/or risk having something shitty I can't deal with dropped in my lap, or else really upset people. I guess... is there a way to navigate this?

I would recommend being more specific.

People find phrases like "Are you in a place to hear something that might hurt you?" and "Are you up for a dark subject?" to be a bit presumptuous about what their emotional reactions will be or what they are capable of handling. It also can make what would have otherwise been a very unremarkable exchange become tinged with anticipatory anxiety.

When someone asks me a question like "are you up to hear something dark?" I might feel coddled and condescended to, rather than emotionally respected. Or if they ask me "are you prepared to hear something that might hurt you?" / "are you up for a serious conversation?" I think they're about to drop some serious emotional bomb on me, like that they're friend-dumping me for something horrible that I didn't realize I did. Then when it ends up being a meme they want to share or a question about a celebrity lawsuit or something i'm kind of pissed at the false alarm and the coddling that, rather than protecting me, made me feel worse.

In either case, rather than giving me time to emotionally prepare or interact when I am ready, these vague questions have introduced some kind signal of social or emotional threat. If anything, it increases the felt urgency to just have the damn conversation already and see what kind of monster is lurking behind the person's words. It makes me *less* likely to exercise control over when the conversation happens or when I see the upsetting thing.

So be specific. "Do you wanna see a disgusting meme?" "I want your opinion on something, but the question touches on sexual assault. Is that okay to talk about?" "I want to talk to you about a conflict I'm having with my other partner." "Can I ask you your opinion on this transphobia discourse?" Etc.

The more specific you can be about the subject and why you are asking about it, the more power you are giving the other person to actually decide what they want to engage with. When someone asks me if I am willing to discuss something dark, I really have no idea what to say. They're imposing their judgement of what is a dark or upsetting topic onto me, when really they have no idea what I might find triggering and what I might really enjoy getting to talk about.

Rather than trying to protect me from something I haven't even encountered yet, you gotta let me encounter it, and actually trust that I will take care of myself. If I don't want to talk about sexual assault I won't, if I don't want to look at gross imagery I'll say no, if hearing one more bad thing about your other partner is going to make my jealousy fume, I am responsible for handling that. You're not responsible for my emotions.

It's good to notice which subjects your friends are especially sensitive to and what big triggers they have so that you can be considerate. My friends know I cant look at lots of blood flowing out of someone for instance and dont send me visuals/fics that feature, say, wrists being slit or blood being drawn. But if they forgot, I'd understand and just look away and squeal oh no i cant look at that get it away. And that would be fine. They are not responsible for my reactions to things.

[daenysx]

hello lovely! for your cinnamon girl sleepover, can i request a fic with sirius black (preferably older sirius) where he comforts the reader after she's just come back from a mission and is sort of startled. she doesn't want to admit the fact that she's shaken up, since she doesn't want sirius to worry about her (they are still friends), but eventually she does give in and it's just a lot of awkward mutual pinning and unresolved tension.

feel free to ignore if it doesn't hit your creative spot! hope you have a great day/night ahead! happy fall! 🍂

happy fall, angel, i hope you enjoy <3333

sirius black x fem!reader

sirius thinks he'd really love to wrap his arm on your shoulders the moment you step inside.

you have this way of keeping people around you calm with your face expressions, you don't let them see how you feel no matter how bad the situation is. you need to deal with things by yourself before opening up, maybe even you don't realize you do this.

for sirius though, it's not hard to look into your eyes and see what's going on behind them. you sit by yourself outside after saying your good nights to everyone, your thin sweater barely functions in the september chill. you don't mind. sirius knows you don't wear an extra layer just to feel something.

it doesn't stop him from getting his jacket and walking towards you. you lift your head, a hint of a smile playing on your lips. he smiles back with a wink, always the charmer. you let him sit next to you, he puts the jacket on your shoulders. it's covered by his scent, you take a second to close your eyes and inhale without making it obvious.

"everything okay?" sirius asks, his face turned to yours. you nod. "sure. you heard the mission went well."

oh, yeah, the mission. he cares less about the mission and more about the slight wrinkle between your eyebrows right now. it looks like a kiss would help it loosen up, sadly he's not brave enough to do it just yet.

"yeah, it's- we're all glad it went well." he says, dismissing the topic. "you just seem a bit- unlike yourself."

"it's okay, sirius." you say. "i'll look like myself in the morning after i get some sleep. maybe you should do that too, it's getting late."

sweetest thing he's ever seen, how can he stop himself from leaning his face a bit more to yours? he curls his lips into a soft smile, the one he reserves only for you. he should've made you a cup of tea. he worries more than he wants to show.

"am i that boring?" he teases. "you're trying to send me away so quick, it hurts my feelings."

"come on." you shake your head. "um- you know you don't have to worry about me, right?"

"i'm not sure, darling, do i know that?"

when sirius looks at you like the way he does now, his pretty eyes wide open and his lips almost smirking, you know it's the sight you'll never get out of your head. there are many stars above the sky, and here you are, sitting next to your own star. the breeze is soft against his long hair, he keeps the eye contact going. you can feel your own eyes looking at him with a fondness you can't stop.

thankfully, he's looking at you with the same emotions. you know he won't say anything about it, though. you won't either. "thank you." you say, genuinely. "i think i'm just a bit shocked. i'll be better in the morning."

sirius slides himself closer to you. you accept his half hug, he's doing it so well. his long arm covers your shoulders, securing the jacket on your back. you sit in silence, take in the way his heart beats. you think you could survive any and every mission just to keep hearing it beat.

cinnamon girl sleepover ♡

[hillbillyoracle]

How to Create Downtime Menus

As a lot of my posts are, this one was inspired by a conversation with my partner. She seemed to think some of my ideas were helpful so I thought I'd write them up and share them here.

I use a combination of these ideas to do two things - redirect myself when I get stuck doomscrolling/freezing/obsessing and redirect myself when I'm stuck on the "must be good, must be productive" hamster wheel and can't seem to stop doing chores until I'm fucking exhausted or have pushed/hurt myself. Knowing you need to stop is one thing - knowing what to do instead is another.

Not all of these will work for every person at every time. Pick one or two that seem interesting and give them a whirl.

Habit of the Month

This is a small habit I can do in about 5-10 minutes a day. These are sometimes habits that I want to audition for my lineup or just want to focus on as a way of rebooting a given area of my life. Physical habits have been things like stretching, a walk, putting on moisturizer, drinking water, making tea, etc. Emotional habits have been things like stream of consciousness journaling, bullet journaling, recording myself venting, etc. Spiritual habits have been things like meditating, altar work, reading sutras, tarot readings, etc.

If I'm stuck in a loop and I haven't done that task yet, it serves as an easy win that feels moderately meaningful to accomplish. This is easier to do than longer or less interesting tasks.

Side Quests

These are little challenges I'd like to accomplish that are 100% fun and completely optional. They are specific and can me completed within a given time frame - usually a month. They usually aren't the most meaningful to keep them more fun and so I'm not letting myself down if I don't opt to complete it.

They've been things like:

The Minor Expert Challenge - read three books in one subject

The Kanopy Critic Challenge - use up all of my Kanopy credits that month

The Regal Freegal Challenge - download all the albums/songs I can on Freegal that month

The Monthly Playlist Challenge - create a playlist of the month where each song represents something about each day of that month; like a playlist diary

The Reverse Tarot Draw Challenge - pick/list a tarot card you best think represents each day of a given month or other time period; like a tarot card diary

The 100 Words Challenge - learn 100 words in a foreign language

As you can see, I prefer things that are pretty low energy friendly so I can work on them on days I'm super tired. Just little chronic illness things.

Alphabet Lists

I use these for my cleaning routines actually but I also have been trying them with my downtime. The way it works is you list out the alphabet and choose one self care or hobby task you'd like to do for each. They don't have to start with the same letter, it just serves as an easy way to limit how many you pick and keep track of what you've done. It's satisfying to cross off the whole list.

Tasks I put on these are things like

A - paint my nails

B - crochet a charity hat

C - write 5 letters for Letters Against Isolation

D - send a letter to a friend

E - play a solo rpg

F - play a solo board game

G - complete a puzzle

etc

They're fun tasks I'm not currently doing as often as I'd like but chill enough that it doesn't matter when precisely I do them more often. I try to pick tasks that are roughly 30 minutes to an hour long though some definitely take longer. I like to complete these roughly monthly but I try to complete a whole list before I start it again. Anything I just did not feel like doing and kept skipping gets scratched out and I rewrite a new list with new item to replace those. And I start again.

Whenever I'm like ugh I don't know what to do with myself, I try to pick at least one thing on the list and give it a try for 5 minutes. If I don't like it after that I can just put it away and pick something else.

10x10

10x10 lists are a different take on a similar idea. It's a list of 10 things you'd like to do at least 10 times in a given time period. Mine tend to be on the seasonal or annual timescale but maybe you're intense and prefer a monthly one. If I don't complete them in a given time period, I just continue with it until I'm done. Better to complete it on an altered timeline than not at all.

For me these tend to be slightly bigger tasks that take a little more planning or energy. I'm not totally sure why I use them this way since you could definitely use them for smaller tasks but that's just the space they occupy for me.

So examples of what would be on my list would be things like:

Grab a hot chocolate from the coffee shop (x10)

Complete a PokemonGo event (x10)

Have a spa night and watch a movie (x10)

Do something extra nice for my partner (x10)

Try a new game (x10)

Find a geocache (x10)

etc

Filing up a little 10x10 grid is pretty satisfying. Much more so than anxietying myself into my bed for the equivalent amount of time.

Seasonal Bucket Lists

I really enjoy making these though I really struggle with the current season (Spring) given my allergies. There's this idea my partner has told me about in DBT where you try to recall positive moments to help "build a life worth living". I think seasonal bucket lists are really good at helping with this for me. I look back on the seasons I made these lists way more fondly than the ones I didn't.

They generally center on seasonal activities I don't want to miss out on. So for summer that's stuff like going for a night swim/skinny dip, getting 5-10 good cloud photos, playing a yard game (like cornhole), seeing a street concert, etc. I also try to take pictures of those (if they don't already involve them) so I can reflect on them later and enjoy the residual happiness.

Conclusion

The point of these isn't to overwhelm you with options. It's just to have enough ideas prepped that you can find something no matter your energy level or time you're working with.

Remember - rest and enjoying yourself is necessary for human health. Folks how get good rest and experience flow states more regularly tend to heal better. People who spend time on what they enjoy are often more enjoyable to be around.

It's never a waste of time to make yourself happy.

[solarmorrigan]

If you’re still taking prompts, could I ask for “please come get me” with Steddie?

I’ve read over all your other angst prompts and just about died this morning, you’re so good at the pain!!

Hello! :D Thank you for the prompt! I'm afraid this one is a little heavier on the comfort than the hurt, so perhaps not as much pain, but if you've been binging what I've written so far, maybe that's a good thing?? But anyway, I hope this is alright!

[Warning for implied child neglect/emotional abuse. Nothing really happens in the fic, but just as a heads up]

Angsty-ish Prompt List

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Eddie shouldn’t be hearing this. This isn’t a conversation meant for spectators.

“I know you just got back from a trip, I just–” Harrington says into the receiver of the payphone, clinging to the handset as he practically wilts against the useless ‘privacy wall’ next to it. “I’m sorry, I was just hoping you could give me a ride home.”

All Eddie had wanted to do was cut the pep rally like any self-respecting social outcast would, except he couldn’t just ditch and go home; it’s Friday, and he has Hellfire after this. But the last thing he’d expected while loitering around outside, waiting for the pep rally to end, had been to stumble across Steve Harrington on the phone, practically begging someone for a ride home.

“No, I drove myself here today, I’m just not sure I can drive home.” Harrington pauses, then sighs. “No, Dad, this is a pep rally, I haven’t been drinking.” Whatever comes down the line next makes his posture snap straight almost immediately, before he hunches back in on himself with a wince and a hand pressed to his forehead. “No, sir. I’m sorry, sir.”

This is weird. This is so weird. Harrington is meant to be cocky – confident and in-charge and at ease, not curled around a payphone in the same way a kicked puppy tries to protect itself even as it asks someone for more attention.

Someone who is apparently his dad.

It’s just – weird. It’s like how you know a lemon is a citrus fruit, just the same as an orange, but the second you peel off the rind, you feel like you’ve seen something forbidden. Lemons aren’t meant to be peeled that way, and Harrington isn’t meant to look close to tears while trying to get someone to drive him home.

“I – I’m sick. I mean, it’s – I have a migraine,” Harrington explains haltingly. “No, it’s not just – yeah, my head hurts, but if it was just that, I swear I wouldn’t bother you, I just – I’m dizzy, and my vision’s all blurry, so I’m not sure I can drive, and I don’t…”

Shit, that sounds kind of fucked up. Eddie frowns, leaning against the wall he’s been peering around, now definitely intentionally eavesdropping. Harrington is frowning, too, rubbing a frustrated hand over his face.

“Tommy and I don’t hang out anymore, we haven’t in over a year,” Harrington says, then carries on a little more quietly, a little more subdued, “and there isn’t really anyone else here I can catch a ride with, either.”

Eddie will admit he hasn’t been paying a whole lot of attention, but anyone who doesn’t live under a rock knows that Harrington’s popularity had taken a bit of a hit last year, when he’d ditched Hagan and Perkins and decided to be a bit less of a dick. And then this year – well, even if Hargrove hadn’t crowed enough about the fight between the two of them, the state of Harrington’s face back in November had spoken volumes. Still, Eddie hadn’t been aware the condition of Harrington’s social life was so dire.

“I’m not – I’m not making this up, the doctor talked to you about this, he– I’m not trying to talk back, I just– Dad, please, can you just – please, come get me,” Harrington stutters through what sounds very much like a losing argument before going silent altogether, pressing one hand over his eyes as he lets his head hang, the other still holding the handset near his ear. “I understand,” he says dully after a minute. “I’m sorry. I’ll – I’ll figure it out… Yes, sir.”

It doesn’t seem like there’s much left to say after that. Harrington hangs up the phone and leans up against the adjacent wall before sliding down and sitting himself right there on the ground, knees drawn up and face in his hands.

Shit.

Eddie ducks back around the corner, gnawing on his lip, caught in indecision. He shouldn’t have overheard any of that, intentionally or otherwise, but now that he has, he can’t just – not do something.

Can he?

He tries to tell himself it’s not his problem, that Harrington’s certainly never done him any favors, even if he’d never been a dick to Eddie specifically, but it doesn’t work. All Eddie can see is the defeated slump of Harrington’s shoulders, the helpless way he’d just sort of dropped to the ground, the way he’d quietly admitted there’s no one else he can ask for a ride – Eddie’s always had a soft spot for the lonely ones.

But when he rounds the corner, prepared to come up with some bullshit excuse as to why he’s out here and willing to drive Harrington home, he finds that Harrington is – gone.

Eddie glances around, but he doesn’t seem to be anywhere. Poof, vanished while Eddie had been too busy trying to decide what to do.

Well, damn.

Distantly hoping that Harrington had, indeed, figured something out, Eddie tries to put the incident out of his mind. The pep rally will be over soon, and that means Hellfire will begin, and he needs to get his head in the game.

He has no real reason to think on the incident after that, and he’s fairly successful at shoving it somewhere into the back of his mind until nearly two years later, in a setting so far removed from that spring day at the school that it might as well be in another life.

Eddie has to extricate himself from a few fans (actual fans; apparently, rumors of Satanism and returning form the dead will do wonders for the reputation of your metal band) in order to get up from the table settled near the back of The Hideout. Gareth, Jeff, and Oliver are all accounted for, enjoying their drinks and chatting with whoever’s descended upon them after their set, but Steve had disappeared ten minutes ago and has yet to make a reappearance.

Ten minutes isn’t all that long, Eddie knows logically, but after last year, after everything, it still feels a little too long. If he finds Steve and Steve tells him he’s fine, then that’s great, Eddie will leave him be. But he just wants to check.

The bathroom is a bust, empty but for one drunk swaying precariously in front of a urinal, so Eddie heads outside, where, around the side of the building, settled on the ground in a triangle of sodium-glow orange thrown off by a nearby streetlight, he finds his quarry.

Steve is sitting with his back to the rough wood façade of the bar, his knees drawn up in front of him and his head leaned back against the wall behind him. His eyes are closed, but there’s a little pinch of tension between his brows, and Eddie is abruptly reminded of that day, eons ago and not really that long ago at all, when all Steve had wanted was for someone to care enough to give him a ride home when he’d been sick.

Eddie finds his ass on the concrete right next to Steve before he even has the conscious thought to go over and sit down.

“Doing okay, sweetheart?” Eddie asks, picking up one of Steve’s hands from where it’s resting on his own knee (it’s safe enough right here, Eddie knows; someone would have to actively be looking for them to spot them where they’re tucked away).

If Steve is surprised to find Eddie beside him, he doesn’t show it. He turns to look at Eddie in the low light, offering him a fond little smile.

“I’m good. It was just getting to be a little much in there, so I came out here for a break,” he says.

Things like excessive noise and heat—say, the likes of which might be experienced at a concert in a crowded bar (or maybe a high school pep rally)—tend to be migraine triggers for Steve, so why he continues attending shows at The Hideout is beyond Eddie. He’s tried telling him that he doesn’t have to come, but Steve still insists he wants to make it to every performance that he can.

Eddie squeezes Steve’s hand. “You wanna head out?”

Steve shakes his head. “You’re having a good time. I don’t want to take you away from that.”

“I’m not going to be having a good time if you’re miserable.” Eddie reaches up and cups Steve’s cheek in his hand, keeping him facing in Eddie’s direction. “You’re a priority for me, you know that, right? Say the word, and we’ll go home.”

It doesn’t seem like Steve has anything to say to that; instead, he just stares at Eddie with something like wonder, as if Eddie’s just done anything more amazing than promise Steve that he’ll never have to beg for basic consideration.

“Besides,” Eddie goes on, if for no other reason than to shift the sudden weight of Steve’s reverence, “it’s not like it would be a hardship.” He leans in, pressing a kiss to Steve’s willing mouth before he continues, speaking so close that their lips are brushing. “Getting to take you home, take you to bed, lie there in the dark, just the two of us…”

Steve presses in for another kiss, long and lingering, before pulling away.

“Let’s stay a little longer,” he says. “Jeff owes me a beer, anyway.”

“Y’know,” Eddie pauses with a grunt of effort as Steve stands and uses their joined hands to pull Eddie up after him, “the only reason you knew the movie he was referencing—and, thus, the only reason he owes you a beer—is because I made you watch it.”

“And? What do you want, a medal?” Steve snarks.

“Well,” Eddie drawls, glancing Steve up and down, “some token of appreciation wouldn’t be remiss.”

Steve raises an unimpressed eyebrow at Eddie. “It would be if we did it in the alley next to a bar.”

“Wow, Harrington, mind in the gutter much? I only meant a beer,” Eddie sniffs, all exaggerated offense.

“Sure you did,” Steve says. “Now c’mon; one more beer, and then… home?”

“You got it, sweetheart,” Eddie says, offering one more quick kiss in hopes of putting any hesitation out of Steve’s mind. “One more beer, and then home.”

[tsukimefuku]

old regrets and guilt ridden pasts (2) ꕥ higuruma hiromi

part 1 → this part → part 3 (soon) | mdni!

summary: you get home, only to find that hiromi is there ready to talk after your failed attempt to open up about your past. he intends to confront you on that, among other things.

tags: +18!, non-explicit! sex scenes, implied smut, f!reader, established relationship higuruma x reader, little to no cursing, reader is kind of emotionally stunted, romance, mentions of death, grief, angst, fluff, hurt + comfort (a lot of comfort, this is healing).

wc: 1.8k

notes etc.: heavy spoilers for "sand and snow" readers. this might be the loveliest thing i've written to date. thank you so much @redlikerozez for betaing it 🧡 written to the sound of running up that hill (kate bush) and heart skipped a beat (the xx) - the second one is the song that inspired the main scene. as always, i write flawed characters that can (and will) sometimes be assholes, but they're trying their best.

ꕥ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

When you came inside your apartment, there were no lights on. However, from the open door to your bedroom, you could see that Hiromi was laying down on your bed, probably fast asleep by this point.

Defeated, you left your things on the table and silently got in the room, stepping inside the bathroom to wash away all the grime and dirt (and hurt) from a godawful day.

'Godawful day' is definitely a good name for having memories of people long gone stirred up and thrown at your face, reviving your grief all over again.

You were still feeling guilty for not having talked to Hiromi about it, unable to not shut him out, yet again.

Why do I keep doing this? I'm such a jerk.

Upon finishing your shower, you came back into the room, and slid yourself into comfortable clothing before laying down beside him. Hiromi had his back turned to you, but he must've felt you on the bed, because he didn't take long to roll himself on the mattress and look at you.

He seemed upset, and with good reason.

"You could have entrusted me with your pain too, you know," Hiromi began, not giving you much time to muster up anything to say. Not even a good night.

You exhaled slowly, trying to collect your thoughts around it all. This day was an absolute rollercoaster of emotions.

"For you to learn my pain, I’d have to explain it, and I just... It is hard to explain exactly what happened and remembering that day," you offered. "Aside from me, Nanami is the only one who also saw it happen."

Hiromi considered what you said for a moment, but you could see the resolute way in which he softly shook his head.

"Still. I can’t fight you every step of the way for you to let me in. I’m your boyfriend."

The word lingered in the atmosphere around you.

He was, in fact, your boyfriend. You had been dating for a while then.

"We’re supposed to share these kinds of things so that we can be there for each other," he stated, a chide with a plead for understanding, while his thumb came up to press softly against your chin.

"I… I know. I’m sorry."

And you were, truly and deeply sorry, for everything. For pushing him into going along with that stupid idea of letting you inside his domain to get rid of your cursed technique temporarily, for retreating back into yourself when things grew dire, and for not letting him in when he expressly asked you to.

"What are you so afraid of?" Hiromi asked, in earnest.

You took some time to think about his question.

What were you so afraid of, after all, that you couldn't let him in — or at least felt like it, many times? 

Then, you realized.

"I'm scared that… That you will leave me too," you began, "I'm terrified that I will have opened myself up, all vulnerable and shit, and then for some reason, I'm left alone again. That's a recurring theme in my life."

"My love, in case that ever happens, keeping me at arms length won’t make it hurt any less."

You chuckled bitterly.

"Funny you should say that. I said the same thing earlier today."

Hiromi edged himself closer softly under the covers, approaching you gently.

"It takes one to know one, right?" he offered, in a kind and loving voice.

"I guess it does," you answered with a minute smile on your face.

"So, will you let me in now?" he inquired, holding your gaze. "Please."

You knew he'd surely be aware of at least the gist of the story, due to the evidence inside the envelope he never got to open before you confessed to your brother's "murder".

Still, it was different. He had to hear you say it, tell him the whole story.

So, you inhaled deeply, ready to dive in the murky lake of your past, before proceeding.

"My brother. He was…" considering for a moment, there was no word that could really convey it. Not entirely. You settled for "everything."

A sigh.

"He was… The sun to my moon. My brother was the laughter, the joy, the silly jokes, the shoes thrown around the house, the noise, the annoyance, the smell of curry in the kitchen, the helping hand, the coming home to, no matter how dire things got."

Silence.

"And then, in one night, there was… none of him anymore. Nothing, just his cold dead body laying on the ground."

A moment that felt like ten.

"I… We were twins, and a part of me, I guess… just died with him. I don’t think I’ll ever get it back. So here I am, still living with this hole inside me, where some piece used to be. His piece."

Hiromi stayed quiet for a second, pulling your knuckles kindly against his lips.

"My sun is gone, and I'm drifting, untethered. I…" You took a heavy huff of air inside your lungs. Yet, you were still breathless, the ache weighing on your thorax like a hydraulic press.

"This grief is like a tar pit, and no matter what I do, this faceless monster just keeps sucking me under." 

Your last words dropped to the drum of a eulogy, the one you never got to do.

His palm descended lightly on your cheek as the night breeze gently brushed over the window. The room was dark, dimly lit by moonlight and streetlamps bleeding through the curtain, but it became remarkably quiet. Silent.

Cotton filled ears while the world stopped moving for a second, waiting under a muted heartbeat.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

His gaze softened — rather than darkened — as his lips approached, all pacify, and yearning, and empathy, and commiseration. Upon contact, your eyes fluttered into a deeper dimness, letting your mind drift around, away and back again, as he began his first attempt to tether you.

You may have lost your sun, but you wouldn't keep drifting away, not anymore.

He wouldn't let that happen.

My love…

Yes?

Eyes on me.

One. Two. Three. Four beats.

Okay.

Dexterous hands pulled you back to Earth, drawing you deeper into his orbit when they fit themselves securely and unfaltering against your waist.

Warm digits kneaded over the celestial wanderer drowned in the tar pit of painful remembrance.

Your senses thickened, your pupils grew wider, and your touch found the nape of his neck, seeking the halo of his comfort.

He was always so comfortable.

Just like coming home to.

He felt at home in you, too.

Another kiss. Gentler. Kinder.

The dark against your fluttered-shut eyelids didn't steal you away from him again, though. He had placed himself firmly around you, with an inevitable gravitational pull, all understanding, warm and welcoming, with the soft press of his entire body against yours.

Your senses heightened — you smelled him, touched him, heard him, felt him. The rhythm of his breath, now softly hitched. His chest, up and down, pulsing with longing. His skin, silvery glow under the moonlight. 

Hiromi smelled…

Well, he smelled like Hiromi.

The best smell there was.

Earthly bound, finally.

His mouth, teeth, lips, all made their way to slit themselves against the edge of your jaw.

May I?

Please.

One, two, three, four beats.

A sharp exhale leaves your lips as his teeth sink against the softness of your chin, crawling up to your mouth, hot breaths mixing with one another, two stardust clouds melting together.

He bit your bottom lip and let it go, then brushed his own mouth against yours. So feathery. So delicate.

Another kiss.

You lock against each other with little to no exploration — you've walked these paths before. You do so with the soft embrace of familiarity. The velvety reassurance of known lovers.

All to the gravitational beat that surrounded you both.

You grasped each other's hands against your clothes, and gentle as could be, the fabric slowly unraveled itself from your bodies, sliding their delicate way down the floor, forgotten.

Hiromi began nosing his way down your skin, but your hands cupped his jaw, pulling him back.

A pause.

Four heartbeats.

Eyes on me, remember?

A huff, almost a laugh, and the kindest peck.

Okay, my love.

His hand made its way under the duvet, all electric, and liquid, and cold, and hot, pressing the air out of your lungs. He was happy to inhale you in, open-mouthed and muddy, as you hitched and whimpered to his rhythm.

You were quick to fall apart, undoing to him, arching your entire body. Almost losing yourself.

But he pulled you back, the other hand resting over your shoulder blades, remembering you.

Eyes on me.

As you tried descending yourself, he held you back. 

This time, it would be all about you.

Gently pulling you under, his thumbs brushed against your shoulders with tenderness. His eyes flickered with trepidation and affection, as your foreheads pressed to one another. Hiromi pushed and sunk slowly into you, hooked nose snuggled beside yours.

To say he was making love to you wouldn’t be wrong, but paled in comparison to this.

He was loving you tenderly, honestly, just so you could take some of that love he poured into you and give it to yourself, filling the gaping hole left behind by an abrupt absence. The forever and always empty seat in the front row of your life.

He pleaded internally, please, may this be enough.

He was loving you so wholeheartedly, giving you all the warmth you offered to most people but yourself, that you could’ve wept — you probably did, the dampening on his cheek brushing against yours made that evident.

"Touch me." Love me.

"Yes." I do. I will.

Hiromi tried, kind and gentle, loving this grief into vanishing, willing it into non-existence. 

My love. My whole, entire love.

But he couldn't, it was engraved in black all over your flesh, your bones, and your soul.

Each kiss while he wrapped his arms around you, tucking you underneath him, was an attempt at chipping away on your armor of pain and loss.

As he rocked your hips gently, he imprinted on your skin every inch of affection you needed to soothe yourself, but you were finding it difficult to pick up these pieces and ensemble the puzzle.

You found it hard to let all your guilt go, after all. It was already an old companion of sorts.

Drinking your voice in as you tipped over the fall, he thought for a moment, could I steal her pain away?

He'd do it in a single heartbeat if he could, if only to repay you for saving him after he had gone past the point of no return.

Some days after that, coming back to this moment, you would finally understand other people's shortcomings from a deeply personal and subjective perspective.

It was hard, after all, being forgiven without forgiving yourself.

Tag list (that I keep forgetting, sorry): @yammy-yammy-yama @g-kleran @otomesass

Reblog divider by @benkeibear

[reimeichan]

Hey guys.

It does get better.

I know what it's like to be drowning in a sea of trauma and pain. The ocean is so vast and deep and you feel like you'll never get out. You feel yourself sinking more and more into despair, with no end in sight.

I didn't think I would ever make it out. And yeah, I'm still not out of it. I keep getting dragged back under when another wave of depression hits me or I get too close to a traumatic memory that I trigger myself.

But... things have finally become easier.

I've learned how to swim, just a little. I learned some new coping mechanisms, to help me get through the worst of it. Coping mechanisms that aren't going to hurt me in the way my old ones have. I've learned how to recognize and process through my emotions. I've noticed some of my negative cognitions and am actively working on undoing them.

And in the process, I've noticed a lot of things starting to change for me. My window of tolerance for distress has gone up. I can actually notice when I'm in a rough spot, and instead of beating myself up for not being good enough I forgive myself and let myself rest. I have learned how to manage my emotions in a way that they no longer control me. My personal relationships have gone better, as my ability to communicate with others have gone up. I can set proper boundaries and not feel like I'm a terrible person for doing so. And I can enforce those boundaries if I need to.

I rely less on dissociation now, to manage my life. And the things that are still causing me problems, I am working on improving. I have tools to handle my memory issues and resources to help with my time management.

I still have a lot of work to do, of course. I still get triggered, but I know better how to manage myself when I'm in that state. I still have bad times, but they are far fewer than they used to be, and they don't last as long as they used to. And they don't feel as all-encompassing as before. And now... I actually feel like there's an end in sight. It's far out on the horizon and barely visible through all the fog, but I know it's there. And that gives me hope to keep on going.

To everyone else out there struggling: I know how hard it is. And I know how frustrating and futile it might feel, to try so hard and to make what looks like so little progress. But it is so, so worth it. To be able to live life, to enjoy your life and feel like you're thriving and not surviving... I can't really describe it. But it feels wonderful.

I hope that my words can help provide you all with some hope as well. I don't know your specific struggles, but I know you're doing the best with what you've got. Keep at it. And someday, I hope that you, too, can see the horizon.

[valtsv]

i get a lot of people telling me how patient and kind i am in interactions with people where they address me in an angry, upset, or argumentative manner, and i'm glad that it's something you appreciate about me because i do think it's one of my better qualities and i'm proud to have developed that kind of control over my temper (especially since i've struggled with healthy emotional regulation, particularly regulating my expressions of anger and distress, for most of my life due to abuse and neglect) but i do want to emphasize that it's okay to get angry sometimes. it's healthy to get angry and upset sometimes.

it's not healthy or good for anyone (but especially you yourself) to suppress your emotional responses to the point of flat out never allowing yourself to express them. it's not a sign of strength to avoid acknowledging your honest feelings. catharsis is necessary sometimes. and it can hurt other people who have less of an iron control over their emotions to suppress your own, especially if you lash out unpredictably because you've held back necessary hurt and let it fester, or if you weaponize that control you have against opponents in confrontations in order to portray them as irrational and overruled by their emotions (which is also very manipulative, and a trap you can fall into without realizing if you refuse to be self-aware about your emotions).

i choose to respond to people with kindness and patience most of the time because i feel that in too many interactions online anger and retaliation are unnecessary knee-jerk responses that tend to only make things worse and leave people resentful and unwilling to communicate with or listen to one another, but if i ever need to express my anger or hurt with someone, i am more than willing to. i just prefer to ask myself whether i actually need to react that way before i do - or if i need to express that hurt on the internet when i might be able to deal with it more productively in private. but i do feel anger, and pain, and i get hurt and cry sometimes - i just don't always show it on social media, because it's a semi-public space where it isn't always appropriate or comfortable for me to do so. so i don't want to give the impression that you shouldn't allow yourself to feel those things. you can, and you should. it's not weakness to let yourself cry or get mad. even online.

[letters-of-libertas]

Energy to carry as a single childfree woman

Summary here

Be more self reliant

You dont have to do everything on your own but you need to be able to count on yourself because for the most part that's all you'll have even as you're around others.

Have more intent with actions

Time & energy is valuable. Where you pour these things into steer the course of your life. Give your time & energy to things that help you (and other likeminded women if you want). You dont have to analyse every action you take but occasionally check in with how/if the actions you're taking are helping to build a foundation for your life as a single childfree woman. Things like donating to female centric causes, improving yourself so you can give yourself (& other women) more, organising/engaging in female centric women only spaces - even if they're just online, goes a long way to set the scene. Even indulging in your hobbies. Dont waste your time on things that wont help you or your motives.

Be more resourceful

Contrary to popular belief this lifestyle isn't a walk in the park, there's a lot more you have to account for especially with a level of reduced support. Being able to adapt/improvise + think ahead to mitigate problems will serve you long term. Also generally building up your resources will make getting through hard times easier.

Living my truth > proving my truth

You dont need others stamp of approval to live this way - just get started ! Convincing others is a waste of time your actions (& results) will speak for you anyways.

Reduce giving benefit of doubt

I once saw a quote "giving others benefit of doubt has never benefitted me" and it rings so true. Giving people benefit of doubt rarely ever works in your favour, the red flags that are downplayed often come back to bite you when you least expect it so trust your instincts on matters. If something is off about something or someone; start backing up. Also pure naïvety is rare, people often know more than they let on so trust + act on your instincts on matters if something feels off.

Be proactive

Instead of just constantly reacting to everything around you; take action no matter how small, it'll pay off more than just outrage. Spend less time on social media reacting to the never ending evil of xys and spend more time building for yourself. Social media can be informative but it can also be an echo chamber that breeds reactionary politics which doesn't move things forward. Ik this is ironic because you're reading this on social media but I'm not saying get rid of it all, just reduce your time on it - particularly around reading & reacting to maIe evil. Focus on tangible things in your life you can control & build instead for yourself and womankind.

Invest in indifference

Taking everything to heart will hurt you. Constant anger/hatred to maIes & their bs is still centering them especially if all you do is react. I'm not saying completely ignore it as they target us & a level of awareness is important, but dont let these feelings consume you. Being indifferent will let you look at things at a face value & make more levelled judgement. It helped my mental health a lot in regards to the climate to grow indifferent, this includes towards maIe identified women and even other types of discrimination like racists, ableists, etc. All theory around maIe violence essentially boils down to them being dangerous parasitic terrorists to not be trusted. I move with this & go. I see through them, I dont argue or waste unnecessary emotional energy on them, I dont care for them to understand me, I dont care to prove them wrong (bc in the end it wont matter all you do is give them more cards to play with; this system isnt erected through logic but violence), I have other stuff in my life to focus on. I cant help the way the world is I can only focus on myself & my actions. Typically the best comebacks arise when you dont give a shit. It wont happen in a day but learn to manage your feelings. Be indifferent to what you cant control, flower what you can control. These comments from the female separatist subreddit explain this well.

Learn to prioritise

Contrary to popular belief we can't have it all. Some are able to do so because they've got wives or staff covering sectors of their lives so they can pour more time into other aspects of their lives like business or leisure. But you wont have that privilege rn so some things will have to take a hit. This is also why you need to be selfish with your time. Things like being resourceful to automate/delegate tasks will buy you time but it's still important to be selfish with your time because as you put time in one area, another area loses time. You need to pick what matters. You cannot give your time away to everyone; make time for yourself & your objectives.

Less theory more action

Having a basis of theory/belief is a good place to start but dont get stuck there.

It's okay to be wrong

Mistakes will be made. Experience is how we learn and grow. Go about your business unabashedly.

Obviously not an exhaustive list but these are some main points that come to mind.

[quitealotofsodapop]

One of the firsr times MK actually sees Luzhen acting serious and maturely is during the New Years fiasco. When Wukong got captured by the Spider Queen, Luzhen has wanted to go to him immediately but Wukong had mad him swear to make sure MK and his friends are safe first so he ended up with the team that went to the Celestial Realm, this ended up being a benefit because that means they had someone familiar with he place.

He and MK ended up pairing up to get the Furnace, but they both ended up trapped inside. While they were there, Luzhen had a lot of memories and regrets from long ago pop up, being in the same device that was once used to torture and nearly kill his older brother. The Furnace that took Wukong away from him. And MK notices this during his own self-deprication episode.

MK, feeling bad for himself: This is all my fault, why did I ever think I could ever do this!? I can't ever live up to the Monkey King!

Luzhen, quietly and turned away from MK: Yeah, I know the feeling, kid.

MK, realizing for the first time he wasn't ghe only one trapped: Huh? Luzhen!?

Luzhen: Yeah. I'm stuck here too, kid.

MK: Oh great, not am i useless. but I got the Monkey King's brother trapped there too!

Luzhen: Kid, it's not like that. I'm in here... because I jumped in on my own. Same as you.

MK: You... jumped in on your own? Why!?

Luzhen: Aw, c'mon kid, you know the story don't you? How did Dage get his Eyes of Truth?

MK: The gods put him here, in an effort to burn the immortality elixir out of him... right? Only instead of killing him he got gold vision.

Luzhen, nodding: For nearly fifty celestial days and night my brother anguished in here, burning alive from the heat of a primordial flame... all because I made a mistake that he took the fall for.

MK, suddenly realizing: Oh...

Luzhen, quietly, eyes dtill fixated on the corner wall: Wukong... I owe hin so much. He's my older brother, he always took care of me... protected me. I knew he was special, even moreso than me, and I swore I would repay him his kindness and care one day by making sure everyone knew thay. I hadn't meant to hurt anyone but... Wukong was so shy and timid back then, still is in some ways. So when he learned the truth about how much of an insult the position of Biwamen actually was and was going to just... let it go... I snapped.

MK: Are you saying you're the one who... caused the Havoc?

Luzhen: No. I caused the events that led to the Havoc. I'm the one who threatened the dragon gods and removed my brother's name from the Book of the Dead, I'm the one to let all the horses loose and then declared for all to hear that Wukong was the Great Sage Equal to Heaven. Everything that happened after... *Luzhen shakes his head as he starts to get emotional* I owed my brother everything, but my stupid, reckless actions were what led to his downfall.

MK, worried about the implications: Luzhen... why did you jump in here?

Luzhen: ...I-I don't know... *huffs in hysterical amusement* I guess... I guess wanted to. No... I needed to know. What he went through in here, to try to get an idea of what I did to my brother. See what it was like for myself. The stories say that he survived because he his himself in this corner right here. *points to the side he was facing, where a very old imprint of scratch marks lay, as though something had been clawing at the walls* It's marked by the wind trigram and had less of the fire. That it was his cleverness that let him succeed... but I know my brother.

*Luzhen runs an hand along some of the faded scratches*

Luzhen: Wukong wanted to make sure he could come home... the only reason he survived was because he was determined to make it home to us... to me.

Luzhen may not have known it at the time but hearing his own thoughts on the Furnace and how Wukong had survived had inadvertently given MK the push he needed to find a way to get them both out. After all, if Wukong had survived being in here for that long to get back to his family, the least they could do was escape the damned thing and save him in return! Both MK and Luzhen have a silent pact not to bring up what happened in the Furnace or the conversation they had up, What Happened in the Furnace, Stayed in the Furnace.

YEE

Luzhen is such an interesting character to unpack in this au simply due to his role as the "dodged culprit" in the Havoc in Heaven. And he's never forgiven himself for it.

He's suffered the ultimate pain of being the younger brother who Wukong would do anything for. Nearly losing him.

A lot of MK's feelings of unworthiness are mirrored in Luzhen, who's lived his entire life as a mere shadow to his brother, not even believed to be a real person by many.

His big bro's successor is a good kid. Not like him. He shouldn't have to worry about this junk,

Though I love the idea that they spent the time in the Furnace hashing out emotional issue they have, and both agree that "Furnace-stays in the Furnace"

[turbulentscrawl]

Ganji Gupta General HCs

I'm unable to make a header for Ganji at the moment, but I'll add one to the post later when I can get on my good desktop.

Edit: Added!

-First of all, in case it isn’t clear, Ganji started the fire. However, it’s important to note that Ganji chose arson for a few specific reasons. Plausible deniability was one. The second was that a fire gave people a chance to escape. Ganji believes in something along the lines of karma (I’m not especially religious or philosophical myself so I don’t feel inclined to pick one in particular for him), and a fire better allowed that to step in and save his targets. If the universe or whatever higher power, decided they deserved to live then they would, and Ganji could rest assured that they weren’t a wholly bad person. All but that child perished in the smoke and flames, though, so that settles that doesn’t it?

-Ganji is a man suffering from disillusionment. This is the result of him being taken advantage of. He left everything behind, came to another county just for the sport he loved, for his passion, only to find out that he was seen as nothing more than a novelty item. Something—not even a someone—kept around because his very existence was “amusing.” Disgusting.

-And it all happened because he’s naïve. He knows this, and just about everyone that’s around him for more than a day knows it, so now he’s incredibly protective of that aspect of himself. He’s not self-conscious of it or anything, he knows that naivety is just as aspect of someone being kind and trusting, but he’ll be damned if he lets someone else use him to their benefit again.

-Like Andrew, he’s developed a tendency to be sharp and reclusive as a defense mechanism. However, his emotional walls aren’t as thick, as dense. In a way, his hurt runs less deep because he doesn’t have self-hatred to factor into the cocktail of his pain. He warms to people faster and has a sweeter disposition under his cover…but you’ll have to be persistent if you want to get to that point. Ganji will shrug off offerings of kindness several times before giving someone a chance.

-In-line with his kindheartedness, but counter to the façade he puts up, Ganji can’t ignore someone else in real need. His mask falls as soon as someone’s peace or safety are threatened. He’s either the greatest hero or the biggest liability to have in a match because he can and will charge head-long into a hunter if it means saving another survivor. Even the ones he doesn’t like all that much. Additionally, he’s generally willing to argue on behalf of someone not willing to speak up for themselves.

-This boy is hard-headed. Stubborn! There are so many stupid hills he’s willing to die on. But he’s also not very good at arguments (which is unfortunate, considering the above hc), he stumbles over his words a lot, jumbles his points up. He sounds a lot more put-together in writing than in person, but his handwriting is atrocious so honestly good luck reading it. Poor guy is at a communication crossroads and both roads lead to embarrassment.

-As one might guess, this all makes Ganji very one-track minded in matches…and with most of his problems in life. Something wrong, anything? Swing the bat. At a ball, at a head. You know, whatever the situation calls for.

-His nativity also means that he doesn’t pick up on flirtation well. Someone either has to be very direct or very patient for Ganji to pick up on their interest. When he does catch on, he’s hesitant to reciprocate. He can’t deny the appeal of relationships, but he hasn’t had one since before he left home. Things are different. Really different, considering the manor…but it’s not hard to convince the guy to give love a chance as long as you’re not overly pushy.

-He spends a lot of free time at the manor trying to get people to play cricket with him. It doesn’t matter that no one else is really good at it, he just misses playing. William and Mike are the only ones who agree regularly, and that’s certainly not enough people. Most others only play along for Ganji’s birthday.

[roxygen22]

Still Here (Chapter 7)

Summary: Three little words from Timmy send you into a panic.

A/N: A shorter chapter, but a BIG one.

Catch up on previous chapters here.

"I should have followed you when you asked me."

In slow motion, Timothée's lips met yours. They were as plush and soft as you remembered. His hands eagerly made their way to your hips to pull your body to his. One of your hands snaked up his back while the other gripped his neck to pull him deeper into the kiss.

"[Y/N], I love you," he moaned when came up for air.

Instantly, you pulled away. He kept his arms out, stunned by your sudden absence from them.

"Timmy...I can't tell you how much I want this. I have feelings for you, too. But it's too soon. I- I can't say it back yet," your voice trembled. You walked over to his truck and dropped the tailgate to sit. "This isn't just a matter of picking up where we left off 12 years ago. I've lived a whole separate life in between. I have a daughter depending on me to keep my shit together.

I got so wrapped up in being wife and mother, I- I don't even know who I am anymore. I need to figure that out first. I rushed headlong into my last relationship with blinders on. I couldn't see anything else but him. I latched onto him because I was alone and lonely. Sound familiar? I lost myself in trying to be whatever he wanted me to be. I can't- I can't do that again." You put both of your hands to your forehead. "I've barely been back more than a month, and I'm already entertaining a new relationship."

Timothée joined you on the tailgate. "But, it's not new."

"Yes, it is!" you shouted. "I'm not the same person I was 12 years ago. We need to get to know each other again to make sure we actually like each other for who we are now, not just getting wrapped up in the nostalgia of what was. I- I've been hurt, wounded, heart flayed open at the hands of someone else who also once said they loved me. Then they fell out of love with me. What does that say about me? What does that say about love?" your voice faded to a whisper.

"It says more about him," Timothée growled. "That he's a damn fool. And so was I to let you go in the first place. But unlike that idiot, I NEVER STOPPED LOVING YOU!" He jumped off the tailgate to pace the sidewalk.

You blinked owlishly at him. "What?"

"Why do you think I couldn't follow through with my engagement in Texas? She was funny, beautiful even...but she wasn't you. And that wasn't fair to her."

"And I don't think this is fair to you!" you exclaimed. "I feel so drained right now. I don't have a lot of emotional energy to offer, and what reserve I do have needs to go to Madison. She's my number one priority. I hope you understand that I'm not saying no. I'm asking for slow."

He stopped pacing and stood directly in front of you, one hand resting on your knee. The other cupped your face. "I'm not going anywhere. I'll go as slow as you need. But, I'm not going to stop telling you that I love you. You deserve to hear it. Know it. Feel it. I will still be here when you decide it's safe to love me back." He broke the seriousness with a flash of his classic lopsided grin. "And if you think being honest with me is going to change how I feel about you, then maaaaybe you're not quite as smart as I thought."

You laughed softly and leaned into his touch. "I'm glad I haven't scared you off. Most men would turn tail and run at the sight of a divorcée with a pre-teen daughter."

"Well, I'm not most men, and I've actually grown quite fond of Madison," Timothée replied.

"I can tell. And she likes you, too, it seems. I think that's what scares me most, though. Any decision I make impacts her as well. She got hurt in all of this, too. I don't want her to get attached to someone who may not stick around. Not that- I don't mean that you would do that. Just in general."

"I knew what you meant. I respect you for putting her first. I would expect nothing less from you. And I'd sooner walk through fire than hurt her." He kissed the top of your head and sat back down beside you. You rested your head on his shoulder for a few silent moments.

"We seem to have our most serious conversations in the back of this truck." You looked up at him and half-smiled.

"I can think of some other things that have happened in this truck, too." He winked.

"Timmy!" you popped him lightly on the arm in feigned embarrassment.

"So what now?" he asked in a more serious tone.

"I don't know. This is new to me, too. I guess we do what we have been doing. We hang out. We talk. We get to know each other's adult selves. But no PDA in front of Maddy. Not yet. I will talk to her when I feel the time is right and slowly introduce the concept of me dating again."

"I can live with that. But when she's not around, can I still do this?" He leaned over and teasingly grazed his lips over yours.

"I can live with that," you breathed out. This time, you closed the gap, all but slamming your mouth against his for a deeper kiss.

<><><><><>

Chapter 8

Masterlist

Tag List: @croatianprincess @bluizh

[velvet-vox]

The horrifying humanity of Lord Shen

One of the less talked about things that help Lord Shen to be the fascinating and complex antagonist that he is are his facial expressions:

Anytime throughout the movie that Shen shows his face, we are met with an extremely detailed and eye-catching emotion, accentuated by the movie actively refusing to let us see the rest of Shen's design clearly; when you think about it, Shen is very overly designed, with the iron talons, the robe adornments, and his massive tail, yet the one thing that we are constantly paying attention to is his face.

His face is also fairly detailed, mind you, but is not the only part of his body to be like this, yet most of the time, the camera focuses only on that aspect of his appearance, and when Shen is covered in shadow, which happens a lot, the only thing that we can pay attention to is his red eyes, engulfing the rest of his body.

Shen's facial expressions do a really great job at communicating to the audience so much extra depth about his character: they give us a glimpse of his psychology and make us understand the fundamental flaws that define Shen as a person.

His expressiveness is especially noticeable when compared to the other three main villains;

Tai Lung barely emotes, except to show his anger; as a matter of fact, what I've just said is a lie, he actually has a lot of different facial expressions, especially after his escape from jail, but the thing is that we are never meant to focus on them: Tai Lung's martial prowess is the main focus of his character, so every scene he's in capitalises on it, his emotional state comes second, which helps those moments when he's actually super emotive (the fight with Tigress, Shifu's apology, his mental breakdown at the end of the movie) to hit that much harder.

The Chameleon makes a lot of different facial expressions but they don't communicate any more depth about her character; it's hard to say at this point, since I've only seen Kung Fu Panda 4 once, but if I were to take a guess, the intro sequence of the movie were The Chameleon pretends to be Tai Lung is the most depth her character ever gets in the story: she is a massive fangirl.

I'll probably have to rewatch her sequences a couple more times to make sure I'm not getting anything wrong, but as of right now, I am going to take a wild assumption and say that The Chameleon prefers her trasformations over her real self because she doesn't like herself for who she is. This is mostly unrelated to our current discussion, but since an analysis of The Chameleon is extremely far away, I might as well mention this observation now.

Kai's facial expressions give us a lot of insight into his mind, but not as much into his psychology like Shen's face does: in a way, Kai is the most emotive of the Kung Fu Panda villains, since, as we're going to see very soon, Shen keeps a lot of his emotional turmoil for himself, he doesn't want other people to understand what is going on in his mind and how actually scared of everything he is; Tai Lung also practices self-restraint but for different reasons, and The Chameleon is still yet to be fully understood by myself, but Kai is always sincere about his emotional state, he's angry when he's angry, flattered when he's flattered, and he's scared when he's scared. This doesn't mean that Kai doesn't have anymore depth that can be extrapolated from a contradiction between what he says/does and what his face says/does, it just means that Kai is someone who's very clear about his emotions, probably because he lacks the childhood trauma that defies Shen and Tai, and also because he's already dead.

Kai's inner thought process is that of a raging bull: clear as day. He doesn't have any emotional vulnerability to hide because he doesn't feel like anything can hurt him anymore, so he doesn't bother with keeping a facade since he's not afraid of anything.

Speaking of emotional state, it's time we take a look at this schizophrenic turkey's mental health and how the expressions that he makes leak out the true reason behind his seemingly unending hatred of Po.

You may now be thinking "But isn't Lord Shen's hatred of Po kinda obvious? He hates him, because he perceives him as a threat to his plans, and because he's evil and all that jazz" and while you are partially correct for that, I want to expand upon that obvious notion, and reveal why every time Shen interacts with Po he seemingly treats him like his life long arch nemesis:

You see, Lord Shen isn't just simply afraid of Po....

He's fricking paranoid of him.

Do you remember the whole training montage where Po and the Furious Five are travelling through the country to reach Gongmin City while Shen is getting ready to start the invasion?

It's a pretty cool sequence and all, especially from the perspective of the six..... but why is Lord Shen acting like that?

In KFP3, where we get a similar scene with Kai, it makes perfect sense from both the hero and the villain point of view: Kai, at this point, has been established as a massive threat to Po, so Po is keenly aware of the danger that he poses and is training like hell in order to defeat him; while Kai, who has now almost managed to destroy everything that Oogway has created, is impatient of taking out the last remaining pieces of Oogway's legacy, showcased by the angry way in which he punches the obstacles in his path to the village.

But here, while Po is simply preparing himself to fight the next big threat, Shen is going the extra mile of refining his combat prowess for an invasion that is going to be executed through the usage of gunpowder.

... A bit excessive, don't you think? This doesn't really mean much right now, but let's keep this in mind for later.

After defeating the Council of the Masters and dethroning the throne, Shen immediately asks the Soothsayer to tell him his future, but not before ensuring that his weapon is in the right position for him to continue his monologue.

Keep in mind: these two probably haven't met in 30 years, and while the true extent of their relationship is up to the fans head canons, it's pretty easy to assume that these two were probably closer at a certain point in their lives; therefore, if Shen was so eager to know his destiny to the point of not even wanting to gloat at the old goat, he must have been motivated by either one of these reasons:

A; He wanted to get this over quickly so that he could focus on something else, learning about his future and then finally getting rid of the Soothsayer;

B; Shen's brain is entirely concerned with his plans of world dominance, plans that would greatly benefit from the Soothsayer's ability of predicting the future to be completely foolproof.

C; He has been thinking of nothing else for the past 30 years.

While A is quickly disproved by a later scene where Shen let's go of the goat, B is most likely also not the answer, as despite it being the most logical course of action for the young Lord, the same scene that disproves A also denies B: why would Shen let go of his greatest source of intel? Just because he needed a way to make peace with the past? It's still possible that the thought of using the Soothsayer's magical abilities may have crossed Shen's mind, but I doubt it ever was his main concern.

No, Shen immediately started going after the answers that he sought for one and one reason only: it's been tormenting him for decades.

The way Lord Shen rehashes his monologue with his sword before meeting Po is not that of a cold, calculating mastermind making sure everything goes according to plans; it's the way a schizophrenic freak would try his hardest to keep everything under control.

Shen is in constant need of wanting everything to be how he has envisioned it, like that cannon from earlier, because otherwise he starts to crack down under the pressure.

His nervousness becomes even more apparent in the first segment of his developmental footage; even if all of these are cut scenes that were never intended to be in the movie, they reinforce the idea that the writers always intended to portray Shen as anxious in this scene.

And once Lord Shen is finally about to meet Po, he indeed starts to crack down under the pressure; Shen has feared that this day might arrive his entire life, fought so hard for this moment to not come true, and now that it's finally here, he's absolutely terrified.

Notice how Lord Shen immediately reaches for his feather-knife once he hears the big bad fat panda coming closer: even if the whole scene is played for comedic effect, you can't deny the fact that Shen is truly panicking here, the very next shot of his face right before the meeting makes you assume that Shen thinks that he's going to die.

And I believe this exact fear of death, more than anything else, is what drove Shen to commit genocide towards the Pandas, it's the true reason behind any of his actions, made worse by all of the other issues Shen has:

Lord Shen suffers from Thanatophobia.

Thanatophobia is an intense fear of death or the dying process. Another name for this condition is “death anxiety.” Those suffering from this mental health disorder might be anxious about their own death or the death of someone they care about. Psychotherapy can help most people overcome this disorder, but as you can very well imagine, there weren't many therapists in ancient China, so I doubt Shen had any concrete way of overcoming this struggle, especially in his current household, who most likely put high societal pressure on his dilapidated mind.

Here's a link to a site that better talks about this stuff. Of course, if you want to truly verify the validity of my source, I encourage you to seek out a professional, and please don't use what I tell you as proof for any real life debate.

I personally believe that diagnosing Lord Shen with Thanatophobia is the best way to put the actions of his character into perspective; the visceral way in which Shen talks to Po doesn't make a lot of sense if Shen only sees Po as a threat; no, Po is a constant nightmare looming inside his mind, and has been driving him insane for years, so now Shen wants to even the favour with the panda by slowly breaking his mind apart before he finally manages to kill him.

For Po, his conflict with Shen wasn't personal until he learned of his past, but for Shen, it was personal right from the moment he overheard the prophecy.

The complete and utter alienation of Tai Lung

[deathlooksgoodonyou-if]

AAAAAAAHHH!!! Just found your If and I can already say that I can feel myself bitting at the bars of my cell, this is SO GOOD!

I'm already obsessed about so many different parts of this story and the demo hasn't even come out yet!! So I'm going to do what my little heart and messed up brain can and word vomit about my little fucked up MC!

So, you said they had a rough upbringing and that their situationship with Jules was also not healthy, so I did the sane thing and started projecting on them!

My little guy, my baby boy Kyrin, is absolutely not coping well and he mostly decides that any mean thoughts or emotions that surface are nothing important and immediately bottles them up for another day, month, year. They will never let anyone see under their mask because, well, why would anyone need to know? They like this version of him, so no matter how many things he has to say or thinks, they won't ever see the light of day.

And he does his best to seem like a well adjusted member of society, he even makes some friends (which to him is an epic win!!), and then he meets Jules.

And sadly, for everyone involved, it seems they match each other's freak.

Kyrin and Jules share something in common. Love is strange and scary for them, never having felt this strongly about anyone before, they have no idea how to handle it.

Kyrin, completely fumbling this whole new human experience, loves too hard and too bright. He wants Jules to like them, to spend time with them, to get any shred of attention from them as he can. And he doesn't even understand why.

Jules, of course also doesn't understand this love thing, and is in result scared by it.

The obvious happens.

It's when Jules begins dating another person that Kyrin's mask breaks. Years of anger, grief and a thousand other things finally breaking the camel's back.

Things get messy. Kyrin is angry. Jules is angry. They can't find a middle ground. Bridges are burnt.

And then Jules is murdered.

Kyrin is left alone, mask broken and a whole lot of emotions to sort through for the first time in a long time.

At this point, in the present, Kyrin is less of a wet cat and more of a feral stray kitten. Scared, angry and functioning entirely on his fight or flight mode.

With everything going on, he will absolutely choose to close himself off from others, feeling terrified of being so vulnerable and with so much in his plate that putting on his mask is near impossible at this point.

I have ideas of what I want his story to be, no pressure to add anything of this of course.

His main arc would be obviously getting his shit together and finally figuring himself out as a person but that's going to be pushed far back on the line of things to care about with the whole murderer on the lose and the incarnation of his grief, loss and self hate coming to haunt him.

For romance, it'll be a real hit or miss as the only one I can see him even willingly getting close is Mia and that is mostly because of the whole 'She will hurt you' part. After Jules passing, Kyrin absolutely doesn't believe they can or should be loved and that train of thought will only be reinforced by the new mean Jules in his head.

Of course, this is a big maybe because if that sanity stat does what is says, and by god I hope it does (little guy so fucked up that he is taking control of the narrative!!), then Kyrin will either kill someone or himself before the story ends. I want that stat as low as it can go!

Either way, this is going to be a really messy ride with an even messier ending and I can't wait for it!

kyrin is such a gorgeous, gorgeous name! He gives off major "I confuse instinct for desire. Isn't bite also touch?" vibes. 😭😭

I love it when people talk about their MCs in my asks. It helps me understand what y'all want and write them better. 🫶