#I can’t say it fine god whatever

[testing-tranquility]

GUESS who’s drrrunk AGAIN?????????

[rowanisawriter]

wip wednesday

thanks @swordbisexual i’m going to inflict original work upon you… ok technically it is bible fanfic, some adam and eve type of short story with a horror twist, but it’s original too………… omg … sorry……….. @carnalapples @shadoedseptmbr @giliath @bharv let’s see what you’re working on no pressure….

.

The request is to awaken. She hears it like a whisper in her ear. One moment, there is nothing, just an echoing blackness that is comforting. And then, she opens her eyes and looks down at her reflection in a pool of water.

These are the details: there is a pool of water. There is a reflection in it. Eyes and a nose and a mouth. Hair that falls around the shoulders, long and curly and brown with dimensions, many browns, many curls. Bare shoulders, a soft curve to them, a narrowness. She leans forward to see more. Hair falls down over the chest. Skin is like bronze. Hands are flat against the ground before the pool, fingers threaded through long blades of grass that shoot up and out of powdery soil. She lifts one hand and looks at the palm, then at the nails, curved and a little long, and very clean despite the darkness of the soil at her knees.

“Very pretty,” a voice says, different from the voice that woke her up. There’s a man behind her, watching her watch herself.

“Thank you,” she says. The words materialize in her mouth. She lets them out without hesitation. She has no reason to hesitate.

[magpie-trove]

Today on Pop Culture Addressed By Ancient Theologians: Does Free Guy synthesize the tension between will and intellect as the vehicles of ultimate human bliss as seen in Thomistic medieval theology?

[lanternlightss]

loop ….

[jankwritten]

Needing to go to bed vs wanting to write hockey AU. Who will win.

(Bed. Dear god let it be bed……)

[1roentgen]

.

[pepprs]

crying again lol ok

[dreamertrilogys]

i’m so fucking tired (physically but also emotionally/mentally) like i don’t even feel like a person rn

[ziracona]

I guess what should be considered with Marie is whether your character starts a relationship with her because of their shared past drawing him back to her, or because he just feels bad for what part of him did to her. I don't know about Marie, but the idea of someone hooking up with me purely out of pity would be awful, worse than a rejection. No one is obligated to start a romance they don't want to soothe someone else's pain. Of course it's all up to you and how you're playing him, godspeed

TuT everyone seems to hear my quandary as “Am I responsible for this girl’s suffering and thus indebted to get with her to make her better.”

That’s really not it at all. I’m not responsible. I didn’t do that shit. And none of this has ever been based on pity. There’s certainly a level of justice to it and what’s right vs wrong in motivation, but fairness and pity ain’t the same at all.

It’s not “Do I have a responsibility to get with Marie?” (Read: do I owe it to her to romance her to make up for what a part of me did?) — its “Do I have a responsibility to get with Marie?” (Read: is this my dead wife?)

There’s a lot to consider. But. Idk why everyone seems to hear my distress as “Should I pretend to be in love with this girl so I can right a cosmic wrong and heal her, because I’m sort of a part of what did it to her and I feel bad?” and it distress me

I’m not a bad person TuT I don’t just think that way.

It’s “If this is a part of me’s dead wife, who he destroyed and abandoned, am I to me Izanagi? And am I Izanagi to her? Because if so, that means she’s my wife. It means I’m a part of the person who abandoned her, but more than that it means I have a chance to be a better me. It means I have a ‘for better or worse’ and even if I don’t remember the me who made that vow, we are the same person, and that matters to me. I take it serious. I wouldn’t abandon my wife. If we are Izanagi and Izanami to each other, that is more important to me than my character’s preferences or former plans. That’s my wife. I have a responsibility to her, and to myself. I have a chance to end the cycle of abuse. I have a chance to save someone. And even if I don’t remember her, and don’t remember making that promise, if we are to each other those two, it doesn’t matter, and it’s my wife memory or no. And I would put everything else aside for that. That isn’t pity. It’s responsibility sure but not in a begrudging way. In a desperately important choice of love. I would chose the spouse a part of me vowed to love over everything, because they’re me even if I can’t remember, and even if I never do. I would love and become who I need to be, because if that’s my wife, it matters, and it will always matter. The question is if I have that responsibility, if I have that bond. Because I don’t know if I am Izanagi to her. And I know my thoughts and my answers, but you can’t tell someone they love you. And I don’t know if I am to her, and if she does, and I don’t know how to know. So I don’t know what to do. It’s about what I want and who I am being tied to a determinate framework, and not having the other half of the equation, and if I have to guess, trying to figure out what the right thing is to do.

[taketheringtolohac]

it feels like everything I do is wrong!!!!! I’m going to tear my hair out!!!!!

[ghoulgoon]

thinking about this bc i just watched possum specifically but it’s such a shame when people respond to complaints about more atmospheric or psychological horror movies being “boring” with “well but it’s not really a horror movie! it’s actually a (thriller/drama/whatever other genre)!” like man. horror is incredibly versatile and capable of telling such a wide range of stories and claiming that slower-paced/more “artsy” movies aren’t “real” horror is doing a huge disservice to the genre as a whole

[stinkbeck]

try to calm down and have a good time but then it’s like shit goes downhill sooo fast if i’m not overthinking everything. like UGH look what my trust has gotten me! god i hate relying on people.

[seumyo]

BAKUGOU KATSUKI ✰ 8:46

“Do you have dimples?”

Bakugou doesn’t understand it himself, but you always find your way back to his house after your first visit—asking these out-of-the-blue questions that seem to have no end to them. It’s like a curse has befallen him, one that follows him wherever he goes.

For a moment, his eyes snap in your direction, his head tilting ever so slightly to the side, though his intense glare never once wavers. He didn’t know what the hell you were getting at, and he wasn’t sure if he had the strength to even want to know why you were asking about something so random.

Honestly, he should be used to it by now. But the thing is, he isn’t, because sooner or later you’ll be popping out of nowhere with another of your pointless questions.

“Hah?”

“I asked, do you have dimples?” you repeated.

His eye twitches at the repeated question, and as much as he’d like to give you a snappy remark to get you to stop, he can’t seem to come up with one. So, for the time being, he decides to humor you (and hope for the best that you drop it and move onto another topic).

“Why the hell are you asking?”

“Because Kaminari and I made a bet whether you have dimples or not. I went with yes, you do have them—even if it’s a singular dimple, but Kaminari says otherwise,” you explained, tapping your finger softly against the coffee table.

He scoffs at the childish reason. “And what makes you think I do have one?”

“A hunch,” you said, shrugging your shoulders. “I also have just one.” You smiled, showing off your obvious singular dimple on your right cheek.

Bakugou glances at your dimple for a brief moment, eyes scanning over your face and the way that the dimple seemed to perfectly dip into the soft skin of your cheek. He almost found himself entranced for a moment, but his gaze returned to your eyes as he huffed out in mock disinterest.

He was about to dismiss your hunch—maybe just flat-out refuse to even show you—or come up with a lie. But Bakugou Katsuki wasn’t a liar.

“What happens if you win the bet?”

“I get 3000 yen,” you answered.

That’s a lot, he thought.

“I can pay you 3000 yen to shut the fuck up and stop with the useless questions.”

“There’s no fun in that!”

He scoffs again as he leans back against the sofa, resisting the urge to roll his eyes at your stupidity. He eyed you for a moment, his head tilting to the side as he sighed. “And what happens if you lose the bet?”

“He gets 3000 yen.”

Bakugou almost wanted to laugh at the fact that you were putting so much faith and money on a simple guess, but he managed to hold back on the amused expression and forced himself to remain calm and unbothered.

He leaned back a bit more, relaxing against the plush seats, letting out a mocking “tch” before he said, “What if I don’t show you if I have a damn dimple or not?”

“Please? Oh my god, Bakugou. Don’t do this to me now! Kaminari’s going to do a ‘victory dance’ when he finds out he won by default,” you half-whined.

He was about to give you his final choice when suddenly you started whining at him. Bakugou rose an eyebrow at you, lips quirking to a frown. As idiotic as it is to him, it looks like it was quite a serious matter to you.

“Tch. Whatever.”

You threw your hands to your face, groaning. “Pretty please, with a cherry on top? Spare me some sympathy—and be a team player for once!”

He found himself fighting a scowl at the way you acted. It was somewhat different this time around, and it was making him feel weird. Damn it. You’re a goddamn nuisance.

“Alright, fine. Just—” He motioned with his hand for you to come closer, an almost annoyed expression on his face. “If you tell anyone else about this other than Dunce Face, I’ll make sure you don’t ever see the next sunrise.”

“That doesn’t sound heroic at all—but yes, of course!” you cheered. “Just a little smile, and I shall confirm the goods.”

“Yeah, yeah. Shut up,” he muttered under his breath, already regretting giving into your stupid request but at the same time knowing that he would never let Kaminari win against you in all circumstances possible.

He let out a huff and hesitantly let the sides of his own lips quirk up into a half-assed attempt at a smile, but from the way it was so rigid, it looked more like a painful grimace.

You gave him a confused, somewhat flat look in return. “Dude, you look like you’re about to shit yourself—mmph! ” You didn’t get to finish what you were saying as Bakugou’s palms immediately squished your cheeks together to shut you up.

“Oh shut it, dipshit,” Bakugou grumbled, his grip on your cheeks tightening ever so slightly as he forced you to pout your lips. “You were asking for a smile. I give one, and you wanna give me smart ass remarks about it?”

“I didn’ even gwet toh shee anythin’! That’s how bwad ith was,” you muffled out through pouty lips.

“Are you gonna keep yapping and bitching about what you asked for, or are you gonna accept my goddamn smile?”

“Fine, fine!” you yielded, pushung his hands away from your face. “Do it one more time, and I’ll actually check this time.”

He narrowed his eyes, almost as if he were wondering if you were going to actually do as you said or go against it and keep making smart-ass comments. But as you yielded, he let out a sigh and decided he’d rather just get this done and over with. 

Less hassle for him.

He repeated his ‘smile’ from before, which looked more like a forced sneer, and he waited for your verdict. This was his last straw; he was going to murder you (not).

You had to hold back your laughter but failed to do so. “I really can’t— Bakugou, please! ” you mused, hitting his shoulder playfully. “Your ‘smile’ reminds me of that time Kirishima had to hold the biggest shit before the bell rings.”

That caught Bakugou off guard. He remembered the memory of Kirishima’s panicked expression and the weird waddle he’d walked around in as he desperately tried to find a bathroom made Bakugou snort under his breath.

“Oh my god, you’re laughing!” you gawked. “And have a dimple! Just a singular one, like mine! We’re matching.”

There it was. A singular dimple on his left cheek.

Bakugou tried to regain his lost composure and let out a scoff in an attempt to mask the slight tint of pink that reached the tip of his ears. He forced his hand onto your face, shoving you (lightly, if he may add) away from him to prevent you from getting another look at his dimple.

“It’s not a worldwide discovery, dumbass. I can fucking laugh if I want to, and it’s just a fucking indent on the cheek.”

“Still cute,” you shrugged, pulling up your phone to text Kaminari. “I need to let Kami know that I won the bet, then we celebrate with bubble tea— my treat!”

“Hey wait— You—“

He tried to protest against your sudden celebration, wanting to tell you that he wasn’t going to let you treat him for anything. This whole damn thing started because of a stupid bet, and he doesn’t really find joy in gaining something from it, but as you pulled out your phone and began to text Kaminari, he sighed and leaned back again with his arms crossed tight against his chest.

“Whatever. You’re fucking annoying.”

“Kay,” you answered. “Also, your actual smile is pretty charming, if you ask me. It’s different from the usual sneer you have on your face. That’s just my opinion, though.”

Bakugou’s face grew a bit warm at your unexpected compliment, but he quickly tried to hide it and turned his head to avert his gaze away from you. His mouth opened to reply with a snappy remark or something like that, but he found himself hesitating.

He eventually scoffed and muttered a low, “Tch. Stop spouting nonsense.”

“Bakugou Katsuki has a singular dimple,” you sing-songed aloud, though you knew that no one would hear since his parents weren’t even home.

Bakugou felt his eyes twitch at your teasing, resisting the urge to tell you off and even going as far as to just punch your shoulder lightly. “Shut the fuck up, dipshit.”

He later found out that there was no bet, and you had just made up the whole scenario to confirm your curiosity. That Bakugou Katsuki does have a dimple, a singular one at that.

Could you imagine how furious he was?

SEUMYO © 2024, PLEASE DO NOT REPOST, PLAGIARIZE, MODIFY OR TRANSLATE.

[primerwater]

watching this drama and missing the obsessive friendships of middle school

[pregstiel]

sometimes i look at the rest of my life stretching out. and i just see fucking loneliness

[txjis]

thinking abt toji with a crybaby gf a little extra rn

no one can tell me this man isn’t into the ‘soft’ type. i’m not even trying to project. but i full heartedly believe that he likes the soft girls that have some attitude to them.

cw: MDNI , fem!reader , toji kinda toxic n icky , mention of periods , fake crying , that’s abt it i think.

imagine he’s just spoiled you absolutely rotten, you can count on one hand the amount of times he’s told you “no.” and actually stood his ground on the statement. how could he not give into you? your his sweet little baby, he can’t stand the pout on your face.

but god, when you break out the waterworks?? you could probably have this man doing whatever the fuck you wanted. you knew this too, and you didn’t want him to get used to seeing you cry and whine. so you saved this little trick you’ve learned until there’s something you reaallyyy want, and IF he says no. you know it won’t stay a no.

“c’mon baby, you know i’m saying no because it’s gonna make your stomach hurt.” toji looked over at you, bottom lip jutting out after he just rudely told you no to going back through the drive through to get another ice cream cone after you just practically inhaled yours. and sure, maybe it was immature to cry over ice cream, but you could tell your period was close, you needed that fucking ice cream before you ripped his head off.

“so mean toji.” your lip wobbling a bit while you willed your eyes to start misting over with water. you slammed both of your legs against the passenger side door, shrinking away from him while you sniffled and crossed your arms over your chest. it was dramatic, and you were fully aware of that. but who cares you were his special girl, no one else mattered.

“don’t be like that-“ toji reached out towards your legs, originally trying to place a strong hand on your thigh. he had to lean over the center console the way you tucked yourself against the door so tight. but just before he made contact, you slapped his hand away, turning to glare at him with crocodile tears streaming down your cheeks. “..fuckin’ fine. same flavor?”

you nod as he pulls around to go back through the drive through, he grunts and hands you the cone full of the sweet treat you had just cried over. you take it from him, continuing the pouty act for a few moments until you genuinely start to miss his touch. riding in his car doesn’t feel normal when his hand isn’t in your lap.

toji smirks to himself watching your legs shift closer to him once again through the peaks he was stealing of you occasionally. he places his hand on your thigh and gives it a small squeeze, mumbling a ‘love ya.’

god, he can’t wait until the day he actually wants to tell you no. he can’t wait until he can tell you that he knows what your little ‘trick’ is and how it’s never really worked on him. he can see right through your little head. he wants to watch you stumble over your words and try to explain yourself to him, break you down until you’re begging for his forgiveness. that’s when the real tears come out.

I SAID TOJI LIKES SOFT CRYBABY GIRLS BUT I DIDNT SAY IT WAS FOR A HEALTHY REASON :3 he likes to break them u can’t tell me otherwise

i’d still fuck him icl.