#I keep reflecting on how often I was told I was being annoying as a child and how it affects my self esteem today

[selvepnea]

Alienation sucks

[nonbinarypirat]

physical affection and how it relates to iruma: part 1, parental touch

iruma reads as someone who is touch starved and doesn't like/understand touch until he now has affectionate people in his life. His parents have probably never touched him besides the required amount when he was a baby and maybe a headpat or quick hug (which would more than likely just be a manipulation tactic to get him to do their crazy schemes). They left him alone for days on end, there's no way they even could have been affectionate with him. And it's not like he ever went to school, his "friends" at school couldn't even remember him because of how many days he missed.

Overall, Iruma reads as touch starved but doesn't know he's missing it since he never had it to begin with. Here comes the love trio, the misfit class, Balam and more. Suddenly he has a lot of people in his life who are comfortable with touching him, even want to as a sign of how close they are. And we can see iruma very much becomes happy with it in turn.

That's why Balam and iruma's relationship is important, a parental type person he trusts is actively choosing to be affectionate with him, not to manipulate him but just because he cares about iruma. He even told him the reason is just to bond and get to know iruma, not some sort of underhanded method. This is just Balam's way of connecting. And they are close to each other enough to be comfortable in each other's spaces. Whether Iruma reads balam as a parent or not, balam is very much like a momma bird, keeping him close and safe in his arms. And Iruma becomes more open to it as time goes on with them knowing more about the other.

This is also a great dynamic because balam gives him the affection that he doesn't recieve from kalego, someone he clearly holds in high regard. Almost every time iruma reflects on the people that matter the most to him, kalego is there. which i find fascinating because what is kalego to iruma? on a subconscious level, i think he views kalego as a parental figure to him as well, one of the first to give him clear and concise rules to follow. his parents were just a fucking mess, they barely parented. never really taught him life lessons besides "just say yes" and "run." Kalego clearly cares a lot while also helping iruma navigate the netherworld making it easy for him to project a father role onto kalego

But kalego isn't an affectionate man from what we have seen. And even if he was, he is his instructor first and foremost so he may not feel comfortable being so with iruma (and also imagine the fucking annoying comments about favoritism from the other misfits LOL). Any touching has been fairly limited to him picking up Iruma like during the teacher dorm visits and Kalego's final hours as a familiar. Which honestly make these few scenes even more precious. Because he is actively choosing to be like this with Iruma. Affection does not come easy to Kalego like it does Balam. More than likely because of his upbringing and family beliefs (always needing to remain vigilant, dignified) and him as a person. So while he doesn't touch Iruma often, his one on one moments with him are extremely personal and parental in nature. And when he does interact with Iruma physically, the rarity adds to the specialness.

And then there's Opera. Opera has been especially more affectionate in the latest volumes with hand holding and hugs and all sort of touching. Which is very wholesome to see because Opera wasn't a character that had much of a strong relationship with Iruma at the beginning besides guarding him. I always got the impression that Opera didn't know how to feel about him, not to say they wouldn't protect him with everything they have. But the feelings and affection started up after the battler/batra Party when Iruma grabbed both Sullivan and Opera (though the care for him had been growing steadily before that). I have seen two main headcannons for their relationship, some see it more as a big sibling relationship while others see it as a parental one as well. For the sake of this post, I will be using it as a parent and child one.

Opera has been right there with Sullivan watching Iruma grow more and more confident as time goes on. And through Iruma growing up, we see how proud of him Opera is. From a scared child to a more bold child, Opera has helped cultivate this in him. I also love that whenever Sullivan isn't around, Opera takes over for taking care of him, allowing the two to have solo family time. Obviously their relationship is more of a weird dynamic seeing as how Opera is a security devil, but that doesn't stop the story from developing their relationship. The physical affection for the two is started from both sides, Iruma hugging Opera or Opera holding out their hand to hold as they walk home. In this case, their relationship is the most parent like as the story progresses.

And finally, we have Sullivan who is the most affectionate of the four. Come on, you can't beat grandpa when it comes to love and devotion to Iruma. He is the first one to introduce Iruma to physical affection in the first place. Now granted, in a slightly overbearing way at first because Iruma is not used to this and Sullivan is too happy to have a grandson. But now, we can see the genuineness behind each of his interactions with Iruma. He very much acts like a doting grandfather, and he really does love him too. Touching clearly comes more naturally to him so it's his way of showing Iruma love which opened the doors for more people in Iruma's life to show this too. When Iruma first started touching Sullivan back at the battler/batra party, it highlighted that Iruma is now more comfortable with Sullivan to do so back. He has been taught by Sullivan this way of caring and cares about him in the same way too. There's a lot of mutual love.

They have come a long way as a family unit. Sure, grandpa has always been Iruma's number one supporter, but at the beginning of the story it felt way too over the top? As the audience we were right there besides Iruma in feeling overwhelmed by Sullivan. This far into the story though, the emotional trust they have in each other is beautiful. They are no longer just two individuals thrown together by fate, they are two people who care about the other and their weird little family. And its even more wonderous when we think about Sullivan's past, having lost someone deeply close to him and has no way of knowing if he'll ever return (aka Delkira). From what we know, it seemed that Sullivan truly loved him like a son/grandson/family member and loosing him is still something he's grappling over. And yet, he was still able to create this, push through his pain to make a family with Iruma. He's not a replacement for what he lost, but somone he allows himself to care about in a similar way in the past. By pushing through the trauma, he has been able to give Iruma what he never had in his past life.

I see both Balam, Kalego, and Opera as parents who provide him with different styles of parenting (with grandpa also providing that but also being a "ill give you anything you want" guardian hehe). Through this, he can learn varied viewpoints and, more importantly to this post, the affection he never had as a child. Does it make up for never having grown up with it? No, it never could. But it's not about making up for what it lost, rather its about making new connections and love with what you have now. And displaying that love in small and bigger ways with touch.

[lxvebun]

flurry of colours

synopsis: asking the genshin boyfriends what color they see you as

content: Alhaitham/Kazuha/Wriothesley x gender neutral reader. Fluff! Use of nickname darling/dove. Wrio is pretty short I wasn't entirely sure how to write him😭. English is not my first language so i'm sorry for any mistakes♡

D*rk content blogs do not interact (*a)

Alhaitham

"It's not your problem if Kaveh's struggling with his color schemes, darling" he replies quickly, not even bothering to look up from the page in his book.

"Archons, Haitham, it's not like that. Just look at me and imagine what color I radiate :)

he sighs a little, closing the book but keeping his fingers between the pages. Even if he thinks it's a bit of a silly question, he does take a moment to let his eyes trace over you, shamelessly letting them linger on your lips too. for a second you think he's actually going to answer your question but then you see him failing to suppress a smirk and his gaze meets yours with an expression you can only describe as Are you serious?

"Humor me Alhaitham"

Alright, let me think.. he completely closes his book this time, placing it in front of him on his desk and rests his head on his hand

"Colors can actually invoke a lot of thoughts and impressions. Most people associate red with warmth, and passion, but also with danger or fear depending on the context. A lot of people view black as a masking color be it clothes to hide certain parts of yourself or the shadows in your nightmares, but you can also see it as a protective color as it doesn't reflect. Blue is usually related to the sea, the lighter tones with sunny mornings walking along the shore, darker tones of blue can relate to the deep cold unknown depth that's hidden from prying eyes......if I had to describe you a color..it would be green. Not necessarily because of the associations with it, wisdom, calmness, and hope. which do apply to you don't get me wrong, but green is my favorite color, and you're my favorite person. Simple as that. Now, care to read with me for a bit?

*he's so annoying but he does it so well. Bites him*

Kazuha and wrio under the cut♡

Kazuha

kazuha has been a bit gloomy as of lately. His usual flowery words have lost their petals, His leatherbound notebook has not made an appearance in a while, neither have the little poems he writes for you to wake up to, and his fingers are clean, not covered with his usual, and at this point, you believed to be permanent, ink stains. It's clear he's been going through the infamous writers block. something that most artist go through and also get out of but it's nonetheless an infuriating part of being an creative individual. But since Kazuha has made you his muse as he told you many many times before, who are you to not try and help inspire your lovely boyfriend.

It takes you a while of bringing him to random locations for sunset walks or stargazing and asking him random questions until one finally hits the spot. His eyes immediately lighting up as he turns to you with such a warm expression of love and adoration you're pretty sure your heart skipped a beat

"That's a very beautiful question, dove"

He takes a moment to think about it, eyes lovingly tracing over every little detail of you, the backlight of the sun, the glimmer of the waves shining in your eyes

"I don't think describing you as one color does you justice. You shift hues as softly and gently as the day shifts into night, and the sun makes place for the moon in the sky. But if I do have to say just one, I see hints of purple in you, but that could also be because the color reminds me of my hometown and everytime I look at you, my soul feels at home" He answers with a new found excitement in his voice

"Actually, maybe I can use this for a poem-"

*i'm projecting can you tell?*

Wriothesley

You often come down into the fortress to spend some time with him on his break. With both of you living on different levels of Fontaine, you'll take any chance you can get to be around him and even when it's not officially his break time, he could never say no to you....or tea time

That's why you're here now sitting on the edge of his desk as he hastily discared the paperwork to make room for the teapot and biscuits. As quickly as the tea flows, the conversation passes from deep and meaningful, romantic ones, to terrible jokes and banter as both of you just talk about whatever comes to mind.

So he doesn't raise an eyebrow when you ask him what colors remind him of you. it's quite endearing how he just goes along with whatever silly questions or requests you throw at him without making you feel embarrassed about it

"Probably between a pearlescent white and a warm honey yellow."

"Interesting answer...why?"

"the colours remind me of the sun and the moon, and living at the bottom of the ocean here in the fortress we don't have either of those of course. You're the closest thing I have to feeling the warmth of the sun on my skin or experiencing calm atmosphere of the moonlight. And to be honest I prefer you over the real thing♡"

Hes so cute *cries*

Thank you for reading angels!♡

[bambimanifests]

Manifest an SP, now.

Manifesting an SP is fun and it is the reason why a lot of people find LOA or start to practice it. The thing with SPs is that many people claim they can’t manifest them, there is a lot of stigma and misinformation around the topic and as someone who has made many mistakes when manifesting her old SP and is currently manifesting an SP, I thought I’d share my tips and create this post — kind of Manifesting an SP 101. If you don’t believe in loa, please leave, this post is not for you, unless you are here to learn more and not be hateful. Keep in mind all those tips are given from my experience! If your opinion is different or another coach told you something else then you are free to follow whichever advice you wish to follow!

THE BASICS.

It is crucial that when manifesting anything we understand the law (of assumption). The law states that our mind (4d) creates the reality around us (3d). Whatever you persist on in your mind, as thoughts, as visuals, will become true and will reflect in the 3d. We manifest anything by acting as if / living in the end, basically we think as if, as if we were rich, as if we were confident, as if our sp asked us out. It is recommended to think as if 24/7, but to people who are new to the law it can be difficult, so I would try to think favourably as much as you can, work your way up from thinking favourably 50% of the time to 100% of the time. It is important to persist in our desire, whatever we put our attention on will show up in our reality.

EIYPO

EIYPO stand for Everyone Is You Pushed Out. It all comes back to the concept that the 4d creates the 3d. Whatever you assume to be true is true. If you think all the time that you’re annoying and ugly and everyone hates you, that’s your reality. If you think that xyz is a bitch, then they’re a bitch. Whatever assumptions you have about yourself will be reflected in the 3d by others and their view of you, whatever assumptions you have of others also will be reflected in the 3d by them.

CIRCUMSTANCES

Circumstances are different for everyone, the most important thing in this small section is that they do not matter. Loa is limitless, you are the creator and only you can limit yourself. Circumstances can vary from being in no contact with your SP to your SP telling you they hate you or them being in a relationship. It’s all the same, it all doesn’t matter. Your current 3d is the reflection of your current or past assumptions.

THIRD PARTIES

When it comes to SPs we can deal and often do with 3rd parties, that can be their partner, their ex, someone they are into or someone they aren’t dating yet, but are talking/going out with — again, it’s all the same. Our reality is the reflection of us, of our inner world, the third party is no different, they’re often a reflection of our insecurities, fears or doubts. The best way to get rid of them is to simply ignore them. That is how I manifested a third party away, by not acknowledging it, not dwelling on it, not spiralling about it. What you focus on you persist on, whether you want it or not, if you persist it will show up more in your reality.

SELF CONCEPT

Let’s start with what is self concept, it’s you basically, assumptions you have about yourself, who you are, how others see you, how fast you manifest and if you can. Self concept is basically a set of beliefs and assumptions you have surrounding yourself. Do you think you deserve your manifestation? Many will tell you self concept is a must to manifest an SP, I will tell you it depends. If you have a low self concept when it comes to love or yourself, then yes you need to work on it, if you have a low self concept when it comes to manifestation, then it’s optional, it depends if you want it to come in fast or not.

VERSIONS OF PEOPLE

Important thing that I missed on my first SP journey was what version of them am I manifesting? I was manifesting a fuckboy, a cheater. Basically all the bad stuff I heard about him, I took as facts. Before I assumed that he was that way I didn’t really see that side of him, because I haven’t manifested that version of him yet. So whatever your SP has shown you, whatever assumptions you have about them now, you can change them. Think about it really, how do you see them, do you think they’re above you? Do you think they could never like you? Do you think they’re an asshole? Change the bad assumptions you have about them. You get to select the version of them, you select the version you experience, so manifest them to be your ideal person. (i usually just affirm “they’re my ideal person”, your mind knows what it wants and if you’re not sure create a list in your notes app or on paper!)

Honestly nothing else comes to my mind atm about SPs, except for the basics: don’t check the 3d, persist and ignore the 3d (continue to think as if) even if it’s showing you the old story, your movement should show up in 2/3 weeks, if there isn’t any and you have been manifesting an SP for years you’re probably doing something wrong, I cannot tell you what, you need to look inward and be honest with yourself. Remember you are human, you will feel all sorts of ways when manifesting, don’t let your feelings cloud your judgement and discourage you — feelings do not manifest only dominant thoughts. Also I do not condone manifesting abusers etc. Fuck abusers, please seek help if you’re in a relationship with a person who may hurt you or has physically or emotionally. You are not responsible for your abuse or trauma. I love yall, have an amazing day!

[mononijikayu]

phase two — boyfriend.

As she set the empty glass mug down with a pout, Suguru couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for her. Throughout the day, she had been unusually quiet, her hands often obscuring her face as she grumbled about the revelation of her secret. Even as children, she struggled to meet his gaze when flustered, preferring to keep her thoughts and feelings hidden away. It was a pattern that had persisted over the years, one that he had learned to respect, allowing her the space and time she needed to open up in her own way.

Genre: No Curses AU, University Professors AU!

Warning/s: Fluff, Romance, Pinning, Co-Workers, One Sided Romance, Mild Angst Childhood Friends, Friends to Lovers, Co-Workers to Lovers, Depictions of Smoking, Depiction of Alcohol Consumption, Noted Cursing;

note: it took me a while to write this down but i did it after a while. they're officially about to date!!! please enjoy the rest of the story~

masterlist

logic ≠ love masterlist

SHE AGGRESSIVELY DOWNS THE BIG MUG OF ALCOHOL DOWN SO FAST. As Geto Suguru watched in astonishment, his friend, known for her small frame and previously undiscovered alcohol tolerance, downed yet another mug of beer without a hint of hesitation. The sight left him dumbfounded, especially considering that not even Shoko, renowned as the strongest drinker in their friend group, could match her. It was a revelation that caught him off guard, a stark contrast to their teenage years when she abstained from alcohol altogether. She disliked the taste once. 

Reflecting on their shared past, Geto Suguru's gaze softened as he observed her. All he could do was note the subtle changes that time had wrought upon her. Gone was the reserved demeanor of their youth, replaced by a newfound confidence that seemed to radiate from within her.

Yet, despite the passage of years and the evolution of their friendship, some things remained unchanged. Her tendency to retreat into herself when overwhelmed by embarrassment or emotion was a familiar sight, one that he had grown accustomed to over the years.

As she set the empty glass mug down with a pout, Suguru couldn't help but feel a pang of concern for her. Throughout the day, she had been unusually quiet, her hands often obscuring her face as she grumbled about the revelation of her secret. Even as children, she struggled to meet his gaze when flustered, preferring to keep her thoughts and feelings hidden away. It was a pattern that had persisted over the years, one that he had learned to respect, allowing her the space and time she needed to open up in her own way.

Leaning back in his chair, Suguru sighed, his thoughts drifting to the unexpected turn of events that had unfolded earlier. The mention of her other job being that of a BL mangaka, a secret that had been inadvertently exposed, weighed heavily on her mind, evident in the flush of her cheeks and the frustration in her voice.

"Do you know how close I was to killing you back there?" she muttered, her tone laced with irritation.

Furrowing his brows in confusion, Suguru shook his head. "But why would you want to kill me? Satoru was the one who outed you."

"I don't know!" she exclaimed, slamming her hand on the table in frustration. "This is terrible. I might have to quit my job too. People don't know I'm a BL mangaka. To be outed by your friend like that and to you too–"

Suguru watched as his friend wrestled with her emotions, her distress palpable in the furrow of her brow and the tight line of her lips. He understood her turmoil all too well, the fear of judgment and the pressure to maintain appearances weighing heavily on her shoulders.

"Don't feel that bad," he reassured her, offering a small smile of encouragement. "I know you already read those sorts of things,"

"You're so annoying." She murmured, her voice tinged with a hint of resignation.

He snickers. "I told you, they're not gonna fire you for being a BL fan."

Her response was swift, her frustration evident as she voiced her concerns. "It's different from me being a BL mangaka!" she protested, her gaze averted as she struggled to articulate her thoughts.

As Suguru witnessed the turmoil consuming his friend, he felt a pang of empathy tug at his heartstrings. Her distress was palpable, radiating from every word she spoke and every tense line etched upon her face. In that moment, he longed to alleviate her burden, to offer her solace in the midst of uncertainty.

With a tender touch, he extended his hand, gently cupping her chin and coaxing her to meet his gaze. It was a silent gesture, an unspoken reassurance that she was not alone in her struggles. As their eyes locked, Suguru sought to convey a message of unwavering support and understanding, a beacon of light amidst the darkness that threatened to engulf her.

In the depths of her eyes, he glimpsed a whirlwind of emotions – fear, frustration, and vulnerability mingling with traces of resilience and determination. It was a poignant reminder of the complexities of the human experience, of the myriad emotions that lurked beneath the surface, waiting to be acknowledged and embraced.

As Suguru held her gaze, he silently vowed to stand by her side, to offer his unwavering support and understanding as she navigated the challenges that lay ahead. In that fleeting moment of connection, amidst the chaos of uncertainty, he was certain that she found solace in the knowledge that their bond of friendship was an unbreakable thread that wasn't easy to break. He took a swing of his beer. He was sure that he felt the same.

He couldn't ever imagine life without her again, now that she had returned in his life.

"I'm glad that my co-workers didn't hear what your friend said," she admitted, her voice tinged with relief.

Suguru nodded in agreement, his own relief mingling with a sense of admiration for her resilience in the face of adversity. "Gojo Satoru's his name," he interjected, a hint of pride coloring his tone. "And he is your fan."

As he retrieved a cigarette from the carton, Suguru's thoughts drifted to his enigmatic friend, Gojo Satoru. Despite his unconventional approach to life and penchant for stirring up trouble, there was no denying the genuine admiration and respect he held for his friend's talents.

"He's my co-worker too, huh…" she mused aloud, a hint of surprise coloring her tone. "Will I see him often, then?"

"That depends."

"What do you mean?"

"He's in the Science Department," Suguru supplied, taking a drag from his cigarette before continuing. "But he's the busiest out of all of us. We'll probably have to be good at scheduling the hang outs."

"I suppose so...."

He sighs, smiling at her. "He may be annoying, but he's a nice guy. He's good to hang around. Don't worry about it."

There was a fondness in Suguru's voice as he spoke of their mutual acquaintance, a recognition of the complexities that defined their relationship. Despite the occasional annoyance that accompanied Gojo Satoru's larger-than-life personality, Geto Suguru couldn't deny the underlying kindness and goodwill that he exhibited, even in the most unexpected of ways. He wouldn’t be able to imagine life without his most dearest friend. 

"And he's my fan too," she repeated what he said, her expression softening with a mixture of affection and gratitude. "He's so loud about it!"

"That's just who Satoru is."

"That must be exhausting."

Suguru chuckled softly, a wry smile playing at the corners of his lips. "I suppose. But that's just how he is. In a way, this is the way he's trying to show his support," he explained, a hint of amusement lacing his words.

“Yeah, yeah….I suppose.”

As Suguru exhaled a plume of smoke into the air, he couldn't help but notice the intensity with which his friend observed his every movement. The flicker of the cigarette against the ashtray seemed to draw her gaze like a magnet, her eyes tracing the arc of the ember as it danced its fleeting dance before settling into the stillness of the receptacle.

There was a curious mixture of fascination and contemplation in her gaze, as if she were trying to decipher the hidden meaning behind each subtle gesture. Suguru found himself momentarily entranced by the depth of her scrutiny, a silent exchange unfolding between them amidst the haze of smoke and the quiet hum of the room. He recognized the unspoken questions lingering in her gaze, the silent inquiries that danced upon the precipice of their conversation. She too, he supposed, was as curious as he was with how much time had passed by between them. He cleared his throat. 

“So, aren’t you going to tell me anything else about life?” He looks at her, interest washing over his eyes. “I haven’t seen you since…..”

“Before I moved towns for high school.” She supplied him, tapping her fingers against the wooden table. “I got accepted into a school in Kyoto, and my brother already lived there. So, you know. It was good.”

As Suguru absorbed the weight of her words, a pang of regret washed over him. "It's such a shame we really didn't stay in contact, huh?" he mused, his voice tinged with a hint of wistfulness.

Her response was heartfelt, a shy smile gracing her lips as she confessed, "I missed talking to you. There was so much that happened, and you were the only one that would have listened to me."

Suguru blinked in surprise at her candid admission, the depth of her vulnerability striking a chord within him. He couldn't help but feel a twinge of guilt for the time they had spent apart, a silent acknowledgment of the missed opportunities and untold stories that had accumulated over the years.

Before he could respond, she continued, her voice tinged with a hint of sadness. "What about that boyfriend—"

"He broke up with me after graduation," she interrupted, her tone tinged with resignation. Leaning her head against the side of the table, she maintained eye contact with Suguru, her expression a mixture of frustration and disappointment. "He didn't like that I was spending time at conventions and stuff, especially when I was still a rookie. It became a recurring issue."

"I'm sorry," Suguru murmured, his heart aching at the realization of the pain she had endured.

She laughed, a bitter edge to her amusement as she waved off his concern. "Don't worry about it. It wasn't all that bad. I got a lot of stuff done with the series. Besides, I was happy that people loved my work. They didn’t mind if it was BL, they just loved it as it was.”

Suguru couldn't help but chuckle at her response, a mischievous glint in his eyes as he teased her. "As expected, a BL fan’s response," he snickered, unable to resist poking fun at her unabashed enthusiasm for the genre. “Sensei, you really are enjoying it, huh?”

Her eyes widened in mock offense, a playful scowl forming on her lips. "Hey now, don't knock it till you've tried it!" she retorted, a hint of mischief dancing in her gaze.

As Suguru's laughter echoed through the room, reverberating with the infectious energy of shared amusement, his stomach rumbled in response, adding an unexpected layer of hilarity to the moment. For a brief instant, his friend joined in his laughter, her own chuckles blending seamlessly with his own. But as the laughter subsided, Suguru noticed a shift in her demeanor – a sudden stillness that settled over her like a veil of silence.

When Suguru finally emerged from his laughter-induced haze, he found himself met with the intense gaze of his friend, her eyes locked with his in a silent exchange that seemed to stretch on for an eternity. It was as if time itself had frozen in that moment, leaving only the palpable tension that hung in the air between them.

Her orbs bore into his with an intensity that took Suguru by surprise, a rush of adrenaline coursing through his veins as he found himself unable to tear his gaze away from hers. The sheer intensity of her stare sent a shiver down his spine, a flutter of anticipation stirring in the depths of his chest.

As she reached out to brush away a stray lock of hair that had escaped his notice earlier, Suguru felt a jolt of electricity shoot through him at the touch of her fingers against his skin. Her gentle caress sent a wave of warmth cascading through him, igniting a fire within him that he struggled to contain.

“I hope your lover knows how lucky she is about how beautiful and kind the person they have on their hands definitely is,” she remarked, her voice soft and filled with genuine admiration. “You make people feel so at ease, Suguru. I feel no worries with you.”

Suguru felt his ears grow warm at her words, a flush of embarrassment coloring his cheeks. "I…I don't have a partner," he stammered, the admission leaving him feeling strangely vulnerable. 

"O-oh, I see," she murmured, her expression shifting to one of mild surprise before quickly composing herself. She got flustered about that. “I-I, I’m sorry about that. I shouldn’t ask out of the blue. It was inappropriate to ask like that.”

As Suguru attempted to brush off the awkwardness of the moment with a hurried reassurance, his words came out too quickly, betraying the underlying unease that simmered beneath the surface. He felt like his past came back to haunt him in more ways than one. The way his heart was thumping out of his chest and the way he rambled like a child when in front of her like this. 

"N-no, it's fine," he insisted, his voice tinged with a hint of forced nonchalance. "I don't think we should be… that shy about it. I mean, we're friends, right?"

His attempt to downplay the situation only served to exacerbate the awkwardness, the weight of their unspoken truths hanging heavily in the air between them. But before Suguru could fully process her response, she interjected with a rushed reassurance of her own, her words tumbling out in a jumbled stream of nervous energy. "And it's okay!" she babbled, her tone tinged with a hint of desperation as she waved off his concerns with a shaky laugh. "You aren't my type either."

The words hit Suguru like a sudden punch to the gut, the unexpected admission leaving him reeling in stunned silence. He hadn't expected her to respond in such a manner, and the realization sent a wave of confusion and uncertainty crashing over him. Despite his attempts to maintain a façade of indifference, her words cut deeper than he cared to admit.

What she said shouldn't have affected him so profoundly, he reasoned with himself. After all, she had never been his type, even back when they were teenagers. Despite the rumors and speculation that surrounded their close friendship, they had always maintained a platonic bond, much to the confusion of those around them.

Yet, as he reflected on their long history together, Geto Suguru couldn't help but feel a pang of nostalgia for simpler times, when their friendship had been uncomplicated by the complexities of growing up. When he didn’t feel himself wondering, ‘why not me?’; He yearned to feel normal with her, be more at ease without him wondering when she would realize it all. They had always been inseparable, navigating the ups and downs of adolescence together with a sense of camaraderie that transcended the boundaries of friendship.

But now, as he watched her ramble nervously in an attempt to diffuse the tension between them, Suguru felt a sense of disquiet settle over him. Despite their best efforts to maintain a façade of friendship, the unspoken truths that lingered between them threatened to unravel the carefully constructed boundaries of their relationship.

With a heavy sigh, Suguru retrieved his cigarette from the ashtray, his purple orbs narrowing in contemplation as he lit one up and took a long drag. In the haze of smoke that enveloped him, he couldn't help but wonder what the future held for them, and whether their friendship would weather the storm of the unspoken.

He would stay silent.

Just as he is tonight.

Just as he always has.

Let her break his heart.

Over and over again.

THE SUNGLASSES DIDN’T HELP AT ALL. As she trudged along the bustling streets, the relentless glare of the sun beating down upon her, she couldn't shake the lingering haze of dizziness that clouded her mind. Not even the steaming cup of coffee clasped tightly in her hand could dispel the fog that enveloped her thoughts. How had she even managed to drag herself out of bed this morning? The memory was a blur, a distant echo of her determination to reassure Suguru that she would be fine, that she could handle herself and excel in her new job.

And yet, as she navigated the crowded sidewalks and greeted her colleagues with a forced smile, the weight of her level-headedness from the previous night failed to translate into the reality of her first day of work. Each step felt like a Herculean effort, her legs threatening to give out from under her as she struggled to maintain her composure. The relentless pounding in her head served as a stark reminder of the consequences of her impromptu decision to indulge in a few too many drinks the night before.

As she recalled the events of the previous evening, a wry smile tugged at the corners of her lips. It wasn't the first time she had found herself in such a predicament – the aftermath of her Christmas submission to her editor after a night of drink-binging and tearful lamentations over the tragic fate of Banana Fish still lingered fresh in her memory. And yet, as she stumbled through the motions of her daily routine, she couldn't help but feel a sense of irony in the familiarity of her current situation.

But despite the lingering effects of her late-night escapades, she refused to let her exhaustion dampen her spirits. With a determined shake of her head, she soldiered on, pushing through the fog of fatigue that threatened to engulf her. For she knew that even in the midst of her bleary-eyed stupor, she was capable of rising to the challenge and proving her worth in her new role.

As she took another sip of her lukewarm coffee and forced another smile, she resolved to make the most of her first day, no matter the obstacles that lay in her path. After all, she was a survivor – a resilient soul who thrived in the face of adversity, even when faced with the aftermath of a night spent drowning her sorrows in a sea of alcohol and amine-induced tears.

She didn’t see Suguru get into the school just yet, but he offhandedly mentioned last night that he didn’t have classes until midday. He must be sleeping in. She couldn’t help but sigh and think of how lucky he is. She didn’t know which class he’s teaching, but she knew they were both in the first year division.

And that he was in the history department and she, in the literature department — which she was pretty sure belonged in the same faculty room, separated by rows of half-opened cubicles. But she probably was already late for her first class. What more lateness can she have?

Amidst her struggles, she was suddenly jolted out of her reverie by a familiar voice calling out to her. "Hey!" The sound pierced through the fog in her mind, causing her to jump in surprise and sending a sharp pang of pain through her head. Slowly, she turned to see Gojo Satoru approaching with an unmistakable air of delight.

She cursed her luck under her breath, realizing that she was now trapped in an unavoidable encounter with the charismatic sorcerer. With a resigned sigh, she turned to face Gojo, forcing a weak smile as he greeted her.

"Good morning!" Gojo exclaimed cheerfully, his smile as bright as the morning sun.

"G-good morning," she stammered, her voice barely above a whisper as she struggled to compose herself in Gojo's presence. “G-gojo–san.”

As she stood there, trying to steady her nerves, she couldn't help but feel a surge of frustration at the timing of their encounter. Of all the days for Gojo to appear out of nowhere, it had to be today – the day when she felt least equipped to handle his infectious energy and relentless enthusiasm. But as she looked into his smiling face, she couldn't help but feel a glimmer of gratitude for his presence, a reminder that even on her worst days, there were still moments of brightness to be found in the world around her.

“Oh, hush, that formality is soooo dull.” He laughs at her greeting, brushing it all off. “Please, call me Satoru. Or even Toru. Since we’re now friends!”

‘Since when did we become friends?’ She looked confused.

“O-oh, okay.”

“I was just on my way to my building when I saw you. I was quite happy to see you and know you and I were going to be workmates! To think that my favorite mangaka and I are gonna be—”

She places a hand on his mouth with her free hand, scarlet red echoing on her face. “Gojo–san, please not this loud!”

“‘old you to just call me Satoru or Toru even!” He groaned under her palm, his hand removing her touch from his. “Besides, I doubt anyone would mind if they knew—”

“I would mind, Satoru–kun!”

“You should really drop the kun too.” He pouts at her, placing his hands on his white coat jacket’s pocket. 

“Fine, fine, I will.” She says, talking a step back from him. “But please, Satoru, let me keep my anonymity. I would have people coming after me after the new chapter—”

“La la la la la, I can’t hear you.” He closes his ears with his hands, glaring at her for a moment. She furrows her brows at him. He sighs a few moments later. “I buy your stuff by volume. I don’t wanna hear spoilers outta you.”

She rolls her eyes. “It really isn’t much of a spoiler.”

“La la la la, not believing you.” He closes his ears again. She sighs. “You always make a twist on this story. It makes me sob every volume.”

“It’s the plot.” She says back at him, drinking her coffee with a sigh. His lips form into a flat line again, almost displeased with her answer. But that only makes her snicker. “You’re so dramatic, Satoru.”

“Hey! I’m not dramatic!”

She groaned, her head hurting again. “Not too loud, Satoru. I have a headache.”

“O-oh, my bad.” He mumbles, rubbing the back of his white, silver hair. “I forgot you and Suguru drank together.”

“He told you?” She blinks.

“Yeah, he was supposed to come and have dinner with the rest of the group.” He grinned down at her. “But you know, he wanted to catch up in private with you. Said he didn’t wanna overwhelm you with our energy.”

“That’s…..that’s considerate of him.” Her eyes soften at the thought. Suguru was always so caring with her. He knew she would be daunted by the new faces she would have to face. Sociable as she was, she gets overwhelmed too. Especially with things that are new.

She couldn’t help but smile. “I’ll have to thank him later. Speaking of which, which class is he going to teach today?”

“Oh, he’s not coming in today.” He tells her, crossing his arms. “He got sick from drinking. I think he drank more when he got home. He usually does that when he’s bummed about something. Did something happen?”

She shakes her head at him, worrying storms echoes in her eyes. She didn’t notice something was off with him. Or was there something that she just missed? “Nothing. We just bantered and caught up as usual.”

“He must have gotten more work.” He rests his hand on his chin, thinking. “He often gets more stuff to ingest in his department. And that usually bums him out.”

“I see.” She says, nodding at the blue eyed man. “Thank you for letting me know, Satoru.”

“Anytime! I’m happy to help my favorite—” He felt a strong hand wrap at his neck, he turned around and felt sweat echo down the back of his head. Blond hair primed ever so perfectly was before him. Brown clashed against blue and he gulped. “Nanami, why are you–”

“You’re rambling nonsense again.” The other gentleman glared at him, holding his neck tighter as Gojo Satoru flinched. “You’ll be late for your classes again and miss all your targets for today again.”

“Okay, okay, I’ll go now, just, ack!”

“Sorry about him,” The blond haired man, named Nanami, bowed his head at her. He was quite a handsome man. His suit was prim and proper, sharp as a knife’s edge. He held a leather  suitcase in his other hand. She surmised he was a professor too. “He can be a bit too nosy and loud.”

“O-oh no, its okay.” She waved him off, smiling slightly. “He was being kind.”

“See, Nanami! I was being nice!”

As the interaction unfolded before her, she couldn't help but feel a pang of sympathy for Gojo Satoru, who seemed to be the subject of Nanami's stern reprimand. Despite his usual cheerful demeanor, Gojo appeared chastened by Nanami's words, his expression shifting to one of contrition as he offered a sheepish smile in response.

"Doesn't mean you aren't late," Nanami retorted, his tone firm and unwavering as he shook his head in disapproval. The weariness etched into his features spoke volumes, a silent testament to the long hours and endless responsibilities that came with his role as an educator. With a weary sigh, he turned to her once more, his demeanor shifting to one of professional courtesy as he bowed respectfully.

"I'll be taking him," Nanami announced with a sense of authority, his voice carrying a note of finality as he gestured for Gojo to follow him. "His next class is in the physics lab, and he shouldn't miss it."

"O-oh, alright," she replied, her voice tinged with resignation as she watched Nanami lead Gojo away, his protests falling on deaf ears as they disappeared down the hallway. The cries of Gojo Satoru echoed faintly in the distance, but to the other people around them, it seemed like just another ordinary day.

With a heavy sigh, she felt her energy drain away, exhaustion settling into her bones like a heavy weight. The events of the morning had taken their toll, leaving her feeling drained and depleted before the day had even truly begun.

As she trudged through the bustling halls, the indifferent chatter of her colleagues serving as a stark reminder of the relentless march of time, she couldn't help but long for the solace of her bed and the blissful embrace of sleep. But duty called, and she knew that she had no choice but to soldier on, her determination wavering but not yet extinguished.

She pulled out her phone.

She types out Suguru’s name.

She bites her lips, staring.

She quickly types him a message.

‘I hope you’re okay.’

He doesn’t reply.

SHE REALIZED HOW NEARBY THE OFFICE SUGURU LIVED. The familiar streets seemed to stretch on endlessly before her as she trudged toward Suguru's apartment, each step feeling heavier than the last. The weight of the morning's events bore down on her shoulders, a heavy burden that seemed to sap the energy from her limbs and weigh heavily on her heart. 

She couldn’t stop thinking of Suguru through the day, how he hasn’t replied to her either. She thinks she must have really missed something. Usually she could tell if he was upset about something. She could read him very easily. And yet….last night. It made her heart sink. How could she miss something? Why couldn’t she see it?”

With each step, memories of her long life friendship with Suguru flooded her mind, reminding her of the countless moments they had shared together – the laughter, the tears, the quiet conversations shared in the solitude of the night. He had always been there for her in times of need, offering unwavering support and understanding, and now it was her turn to return the favor.

Yet she realized, he too changed in their time apart. He grew older, in so many ways she knew she probably wouldn’t have known. As she threaded through the narrow streets, she thought she needed to know more. She needs to know all about her friend again.

Arriving at Suguru's doorstep, she took a deep breath to steady herself before knocking gently on the door. Moments later, the door swung open to reveal Suguru, his usually composed demeanor replaced by a disheveled appearance and a pained expression etched onto his features. Hair isn’t neatly pleated into a bun, but rather freefalling through the edges of his back. He must have had a rough night. She quickly smiled at him. 

"Suguru," she greeted softly, her voice bright and  as she took in his condition, started to be laced with worry. "I brought some zaru soba for you. Your favorite. I thought it might help with your hangover."

Suguru's eyes widened in surprise at the sight of her, a flicker of gratitude shining through the fog of his hangover. He hadn’t told her where he lived just yet, but it seems she probably asked Satoru where. He lets a small smile echo on his lips.

"Thank you," he murmured hoarsely, his voice rough from lack of sleep and too much alcohol. "That's very kind of you."

He asked her to come in, extending an invitation. She nodded and thanked him. He handed her house slippers to change in by the doorstep and she obliged. Soon enough, she stepped into the hallway, carefully balancing the container of zaru soba in her hands as she made her way to his dimly lit kitchen. 

She tries to navigate inside, with Suguru following behind her. He switches on the light, she turns and thanks him.  She made her way towards the counters and took a breath.  Setting the food down on the counter, she quickly set to work preparing a simple meal for Suguru, knowing he probably hasn’t eaten much today. 

“I hope you know I wasn’t ignoring you on purpose.” Suguru whispered at her, standing as he watched her wash her hands. “I was really….really hungover.”

Her gaze softened at him, shaking her head. “Nothing to forgive. I’m sorry I barged into your house without saying anything either.”

“No, no. It’s fine. I’m…I’m really happy you made the effort at all.”

“Well, someone has to take care of you, right?”

Suguru didn’t reply.

As she worked diligently in the kitchen, the rhythmic clinking of utensils against bowls echoed softly in the air, a soothing cadence that seemed to calm her restless mind. With each chop of vegetables and boil of noodles, she poured her heart and soul into preparing the simple meal, her thoughts consumed by a surge of empathy for Suguru.

Despite his usual stoic demeanor, she couldn't help but notice the subtle signs of vulnerability that lingered beneath the surface, a silent testament to the toll that his hangover had taken on him. His eyes, usually sharp and focused, now held a hint of weariness, his shoulders slumped ever so slightly under the weight of his exhaustion. It was a reminder that even the strongest among them had their moments of weakness, and in that moment, she felt a deep sense of compassion for her dear friend.

Once the meal was finally ready, she carefully carried the steaming bowl of zaru soba over to where Suguru was sitting, the fragrant aroma of the noodles filling the air around them. With a soft smile, she gently placed the bowl in front of him, the warmth of her gesture a silent reassurance of her unwavering support.

"Here you go," she said softly, her voice filled with warmth and compassion as she looked into Suguru's tired eyes. "I hope this helps."

Suguru looked up at her, his expression softened by her kindness, a flicker of gratitude shining through the exhaustion that clouded his features. "Thank you," he murmured hoarsely, his voice barely above a whisper. "I appreciate it more than you know."

She grinned at him, sitting down opposite him. “Well, dig in.”

Suguru nodded gratefully, taking a tentative sip of the broth before digging into the noodles with renewed vigor. As he ate, she remained by his side, humming a song and then making light conversation — which he was happy to respond to little by little as he ate the zaru soba.

Even after the blue hour, she remained a steadfast presence by Suguru's side, her commitment to his well-being evident in everything she did. She makes him warm tea, remembering the way he used to like it. He smiled at her and thanked her for it. Even fetching a glass of water when his throat grew dry and offering a cool compress to soothe his pounding headache. 

Since they both didn’t have a class tomorrow, Suguru suggested that she stayed the night and she readily agreed. It would be like the old times again, when they slept over, watching all their favorite shows, making sandwiches and cookies. Though it was to take care of Suguru, it wasn’t all that different from how she used to be around him. And she was glad for it.

As Suguru reclined on the couch, still nursing the remnants of his hangover, she busied herself around the house, tidying up the clutter that had accumulated over the days and ensuring that everything was in its rightful place. With a practiced hand, she fluffed the pillows and straightened the throw blankets, creating a cozy and inviting atmosphere that seemed to ease Suguru's discomfort.

As the hours passed, she engaged Suguru in lighthearted conversation, regaling him with amusing anecdotes and sharing fond memories of their time together. With each shared laugh and shared smile, she sought to lift his spirits and remind him that he was not alone in his struggles. He only looks at her, nodding along at each and everything she says. There was so much emotion in his eyes as he looked at her, but she didn’t want to ask. He was dealing with a lot already. 

As the evening wore on and on, the light in the hallway kept casting a soft glow across the room. She and Suguru found themselves seated on the couch, engrossed in the television program playing before them. The flickering images danced across the screen, capturing their attention as they followed the unfolding drama of the characters' lives.

As the storyline progressed, she couldn't help but feel a pang of frustration at the obliviousness of the main character, who seemed completely unaware of the deep affection that the supporting character harbored for them. With a sigh, she voiced her exasperation, lamenting the character's inability to see what was right in front of them. She loved slow burns, she really did. But this level of obliviousness rattled her. It really was just dull to watch, even more frustrating to endure.

"Why can't they see it?" she mused aloud, her voice tinged with frustration. "It's so obvious that the supporting character loves them, and yet they're completely oblivious."

Suguru glanced at her, a faint smile playing at the corners of his lips. "Maybe they just need a little push in the right direction," he suggested, his tone thoughtful as he turned his attention back to the screen.

She nodded in agreement, her mind still mulling over the complexities of the fictional world unfolding before them. She started making mental notes for her next updates for the drafts. She was sure she could do better than this.

But then, out of the blue, Suguru's question caught her off guard. His sudden vulnerability, a departure from his usual stoicism, took her by surprise, and she turned to him with a mixture of curiosity and concern.

He gathered his strength, steeling himself to voice the thoughts that had been weighing heavily on his mind. With a deep breath, he looked into her eyes, his gaze unwavering despite the uncertainty that lingered in his heart. It took all of his courage to muster the words, but he knew that he needed to say them, to lay bare the depths of his emotions and expose his vulnerabilities to the one person who mattered most.

And then, finally, he said it.

"Am I good?" he asked suddenly, his voice softly dangling into the air.

She turned to look at him, confusion furrowing her brow. "What do you mean?"

"Am I good enough for you, like the main character is for the supporting character?" he clarified, his gaze searching hers for reassurance. 

“W-what do you mean?”

“I know it’s a lot and maybe there’s no logic to what I’m saying. Maybe I’m still hung over and it's messing with my head…”

Her heart skipped a beat at his words, touched by the vulnerability in his voice. "Suguru, of course you are," she replied earnestly, reaching out to take his hand in hers. "You're more than good enough. You're amazing."

A faint blush colored her cheeks at his words, her heart fluttering with a mixture of nervousness and anticipation. She could feel the warmth of his touch as he brushed his hand through her hair, a gentle gesture that sent shivers down her spine.

"Can you take a chance on me then?" he asked, his voice soft and sincere as he searched her eyes for any sign of hesitation. "I know I'm not your type, and I'm just... Well, I'm not sure where this is gonna go. But I promise you that if it were up to me, you wouldn't have to cry or feel unloved. I would do everything in my power to make you happy, to make you feel cherished and appreciated. I won't hurt you."

Her heart swelled with emotion at his heartfelt confession, his words stirring something deep within her soul. With a shaky breath, she reached out and took his hand in hers, her fingers intertwining with his in a silent vow of trust and commitment.

"Also," he whispered at her, his eyes narrowing as his voice barely above a whisper, a mischievous glint in his eyes. He pulled a thumbs up. "I'll also make sure to help you finish your drafts in time for the next volume."

A smile tugged at the corners of her lips at his playful offer, and a burst of laughter escaped her as she looked at him. The warmth of their shared moment lingered in the air, creating an atmosphere of lighthearted joy that danced between them.

Nodding in agreement, she couldn't help but feel a surge of happiness and gratitude for the purple-eyed man before her. The prospect of collaboration, not just in their creative endeavors but in the shared journey of their lives, filled her with a sense of excitement and anticipation.

"You're hired!" she exclaimed with a playful grin, mirroring his enthusiasm as she stood up from the couch.

She laughs at her response.

He couldn’t stop smiling.

His heart was pounding hard.

There was no logic to this.

But he really didn't care.

He was too in love with her, after all.

[kazvha]

Random headcanons I had for Kayden

Notes: Yet another 'don't take this too seriously' post🥴

1. Does the reader have a chance with Kayden?

• Let's be real, you wouldn't even know who Kayden is because you're a mere human

• A normal day in his life consists of waking up at 5 am, going on a run with Jiwoo, training with Jiwoo and also instructing him, maybe taking an afternoon nap, training again, going to sleep with his force control activated and repeat

• So he never even thought about having romantic feelings for someone. His main goal is to become stronger and to defeat strong people

• But let's say you're an awakener and you know who Kayden is. You still would have no chance to get to know him because he thinks that everyone is approaching him for their own interest. That's just how the awakened world is. And if you two fought against each other, you would probably hold a grudge against him like the other awakeners

• Your best bet would be having a connection to Jiwoo since Kayden's life revolves around him right now.

• Idk, maybe you would have to work at Shinhwa and take care of Jiwoo kinda like Inhyuk

• You would have to be very persistent and keep visiting Jiwoo at his house for Kayden to notice you. And you would have to find out his secret of him being a cat for him to lower his guard around you

2. Oddly, very oddly specific hcs:

• He doesn't take care of his hair like that. When he found out that shampoo existed, (before that he washed his hair with his bodywash) he bought a specific 3 in 1 Shampoo and he never went back since. That's the only thing he puts in his hair

• Even so his hair is somewhat silky and nice. But he's so annoyed by the strands that fall out of his bun. He thought way too many times about shaving all his hair off (imagine Kayden with a buzzcut)

• But he only cuts his hair when he notices it growing past his collarbones. "Ah, it's that time again... Why does it grow so fast??"

• He has no fashion sense. At all. So he sticks to white or black shirts and black pants because that outfit can be used for any casual and professional settings

• He's been wanting to pierce his ears for a long time but he doesn't know a good place where he can do it. He's too lazy to do it

• His lips are so dry it hurts me. He doesn't even notice it when his lip is bleeding. Someone bring him some chapstick pls

• He doesn't know how social media works and doesn't have any accounts. He only uses his phone for text messages and calls

• If there was an Instagram or X for awakeners there would be so many fan accounts dedicated to Kayden. And every time he fights someone, the whole platform blows up with posts about him

• He can cook. Kayden has lived alone his whole life and he somehow had to feed himself with cheap ingredients. Over the years his improvised meals became better and more delicious

• He's the worst when it comes to cleaning dishes though. He hates it. He would rather take the trash out than do the dishes

• One day a girl told him that she was jealous of his long eyelashes. He shrugged her off, but since then he thinks about her statement every once in a while. Kayden would look at his reflection in the bathroom mirror and think 'They're not that long though.'

• He still didn't lose hope that he'll become a skinnier cat if he trains enough and that's probably one of his main goals these days. Who cares about getting stronger? He just wants to lose the cat fat😩

• He often gets nightmares about being stuck in his cat form and never getting out again

• He speaks Korean and Chinese fluently and can also converse in English quite well

• He only wears these footies socks, these no-show socks. Who needs normal socks?

• Speaking about socks, he sleeps without socks on.

sorry.

[tetsunabouquet]

Omg i just found your blog and its just what i need. What do you think about imayoshi, midorima and hanamiya with a very enthusiasm reader who for sure has adhd???!?? I mean, once i read somewhere thats imayoshi dosent like enthusiasm woman or somethin like that.

A/N: Here you go, a drabble for each!

Midorima

He was your calm other half, and you were the energy crackling under his skin visible to the naked eye. His bouncy other half. At first, people were a tad bit surprised when the two of you starting dating, that Midorima was interested in someone so, well, unlike him. Until they saw how well the two of you balanced each other out, and then everyone had declared it a match made in heaven. And thus there you were, at the front in the audience. Wearing a cheerleader uniform. It was Takao's idea, considering your enthusiasm whenever you came to watch Midorima play. You always came up with fanchants for Midorima in days leading up to big games like these. Your easily distracted mind, would often drift to them in class and you'd practise them during lunch break. It was the only form of humiliation that Midorima would put up with, but they always felt like they boosted his confidence once he was actually hearing them when playing. Your fanchants were like magic spells, but he knew that when he'd utter that out loud he'd sound horribly stupid. So he only ever told you that when no one was around. You couldn't even sit still in the train, so Midorima kept you occupied with a game of 'I Spy', partially also to distract himself from the nerves of having to play. He really didn't knew how games would be like without you now, without your fanchants lifting him up higher then the skies. Without your nervous energy reflecting what he felt on the inside when you gave him a good luck kiss. He needed you to cheer him on, so it was rather fitting for you, even though Takao had suggested it as a way to tease Midorima. If he were to be honest, the cute cheerleader outfit that just happened to be in Shutoku's team colors was doing something to him that he was trying very hard not to think about. So when the other team remarked Shutoku seemed to have a cute cheerleader, Midorima couldn't help but make the remark you were his girlfriend with absolute pride. He certainly made sure to kiss you for it, after he left the locker room during the breaks. "Thank you for being my good luck charm. Your energy is always so contagious." And to this, you smile.

Imayoshi

The moment he saw you, a whirlwind of energy as you raced through the infirmary that time he sprained his ankle during basketball training, he fell in love with you right away. You used your hyper-activity as a way to keep an of the To-Oh students with the misfortune to land themselves in the infirmary, cheerful. You were the leader of the school's health club who helped the nurse at the infirmary, and everyone knew you as the sunshine of the infirmary. Everyone's favorite clown. Imayoshi loved how you used your nature to the benefit of others, how you turned what others might perceive as a weakness into a strength. You were clever and attentive, not just some loose cannon that would annoy him. And he was overjoyed when you said yes to being his girlfriend. He loved greeting you each morning, loved the feel of your hand on his, his arms around you. He loved the little things, like whenever you were bored and hyper to do something, you'd bake him something nice. Imayoshi considered himself quite the lucky man, having a girlfriend such as yourself. You were waving your arms around as you bounced off the stairs, "Shou, good morning!" You chirped, your hair falling in place with such a slow pace Imayoshi would wonder the air wanted to take a chance and play with your hair. Imayoshi couldn't blame the air if it wanted to do so. He grabbed hold of your hand, and grinned. "Shall we go to class?" You nodded enthusiastically and you were swinging the hand holding Imayoshi's as the two of you walked to class. Five months ago, doing something so bold across the hallways would have perplexed many. For Imayoshi wasn't known for being a silly person, except for his drawings or when he wanted to get under someone's skin, but you just opened him up in a whole new kind of way. Sometimes, it felt like his only delight were these little moments the two of you shared, and he'd gaze sleeplessly at the ceiling all night long, thinking of you. It was the experience of young love, so sweet and tender. Even a clever fox like Imayoshi would be humbled and left a fool in its face.

Hanamiya

When he first spotted you, bouncing cheerfully across the hallway, he was struck by how innocent and gleeful your expression was. It lit up your beauty in a way that he previously had only read about in novels with a romantic plot- ones he'd never admit to read to others for the sake of his own pride. My oh my, did the bad boy of the Kirisaki team experience the wonders of love at first sight? The joy in your steps was so pure, the energy bright and sparkling like fireworks. To Hanamiya, you were a mesmerizing sight. Before he knew it, he felt himself rigging team games during P.E class for you and watching your every move from the shadows, like a predator waiting for his prey. To attack and snatch your heart at the perfect time. Hanamiya had made sure to have planned it out perfectly, threatening any student who'd dare to come close to the music room, where he had planned his confession considering you were fond of drumming as a way of releasing your energy. He'd also made sure that they wouldn't utter to you that he had threatened them to begin with. He didn't wanted to receive a scolding from you. You always kept him from crossing too many lines after you had started dating. Energetic, pure and honest, you were pretty much the opposite of his character. Which he liked. It was so often exhausting, to be so much more intelligent then everyone else. Having someone so drastically different then himself yet understood what it's like to be unlike the rest was incredible. To finally be able to sit down next to you, lay his head on your shoulder and just let all his frustrations with annoying stupid people's opinions wash away, was something he had desperately needed for a while now. He smiled as he watched you sprint your way towards him. No one else, other then you, would approach him with such upbeat energy, everyone seemed to be cautious because of the dark rumors about his character. But not you. You actually tried to understand. As you reached him, he wrapped his arms around you, like the threads of a web holding onto a spider's prey. He was going to hold onto you, with all of his strength.

[diazheartsbuckley]

⚡️❤️‍🔥🖤

Hi anon! ☺️

⚡️ (Post-lightning strike love confession)

Previous snippet here

Eddie’s dry chuckle is followed by a lingering silence, one that fills Eddie’s entire body with dread and he stares at the bottom of his empty bottle, seeing the stained wood underneath.

“What’s your point, Eddie?” Buck says, almost as if he’s annoyed. Maybe he is. Maybe he’s just sick and tired by everyone that his life technically was cut short a few months before his 32nd birthday. Maybe he’s tired of everyone hovering and worrying that he’ll do something stupid to put himself at unnecessary risk. Maybe he’s tired of being treated differently, people looking at him differently. He hasn’t changed. He doesn’t even have a scar or anything to show for it. The only thing that psychically reminds him of what happened is the acting in his sternum and ribs when he makes a wrong move. But he’s fine. Completely and utterly fine.

Eddie shifts in his seat and lifts his gaze, discreetly scanning Buck’s face before he settles for eye contact, a soft yellow light reflecting in Buck’s eyes and Eddie feels himself swooning a little. “I’m just saying, not everyone gets a second chance and-and-and you should be glad that you got it because I…” Eddie pauses himself. Fuck. It’s now or ever. “I’m not done with you yet. I uhm-…I” He stumbles over his words and suddenly can’t keep eye contact with Buck anymore. “Okay, Jesus fucking Christ, this is ridiculous. What I’m trying to say is that I’m glad you didn’t die because I’m in love with you and I want you to know that”

Another long silence follows.

Fuck, maybe I shouldn’t have said that, Eddie thinks.

Buck leans slightly backwards in his chair, frowning and clearly processing what his best friend has just told him. Finally he opens his mouth but all that comes out is a weak, “what?”

❤️‍🔥 (bratty probie!Buck x newly appointed lieutenant!Eddie) can be found here

Last but definitely not least

🖤 (Lots of religious trauma, meeting before the 118)

TW: Abuse

El Paso, Texas, 2007

Going to a public high school after having gone to a catholic middle and elementary school was a whirlwind of changes for 15 year old Eddie Diaz. But luckily, he’d made friends fast and spent most of his time with one of them, Lucas. Eddie found himself admiring Lucas more often than not, his soft brown curls and dark green eyes, freckles spread across his nose and cheeks, even some on the side of his neck. He was so kind and generous and funny and smart and Eddie definitely had feelings for him that he didn’t know how to put into words.

And he didn’t want to put them into words because every time something about gay people were mentioned anywhere, his father would curse at it and spit, visible disgust on his face. Only problem with this was that Lucas was a very psychical person, he didn’t mind hugs and he didn’t mind cuddling and he didn’t mind touching Eddie during the day, which would send hot flashes throughout his entire body. And a little twinkle in Lucas’ eyes told him that he might feel the same.

Sat on the edge of his own bed, Eddie had been nervously swinging his feet as Lucas was lying on his side, clearly watching him. “Eddie, your father isn’t home. He won’t be home for a while” Lucas pointed out with a cheeky smile and he sat up, his warm thigh resting against his. A nervous breath escaped Eddie’s mouth and as he turns to face Lucas, Lucas leans in and let his soft lips connect with his.

Eddie had kissed a few girls before but it hadn’t really felt like anything. He just felt like he had to perform. It hadn’t given him this swirling feeling that spread in his entire chest, it hadn’t made him smile against their lips and it hadn’t felt so…liberating. When Lucas slowly broke the kiss, Eddie found himself eager for more and soon he almost halfway crawled into Lucas’ lap, arms draped around his waist. He probably also moaned because Lucas’ hands traced the small of his back before settling on his hips.

They had both been so lost in the moment that they hadn’t even realized that Ramon was home, several hours before he was supposed to. The door almost flew off its hinges and Eddie tumbled to the side, almost falling of the bed.

“What are you doing to my son, you fucking maricón? Get the fuck away from him!” Ramon yelled out as he yanked Lucas off the bed and harshly slammed him onto the floor.

“Dad, stop! He didn’t make me do anything!” Eddie tried desperately but the first blow landed and then another before Lucas is yanked back up on his feet and pushed out of the room only to have Ramon leaping at his only son.

“I raised you better than this, Edmundo! This is an abomination!” It started with a slap but it quickly grew into a fully fledged assault. Every time Eddie tried to escape the room, escape his father’s violent acts, he was pulled back into it.

“Please stop!” He sobbed as his father sat on his back, tugging at his arm before pulling him off the ground and after that, Eddie doesn’t know what happened. He doesn’t want to know what happened as the sound of a bone being broken filled the room. “I can’t-… Por favor, lo siento, papa. Lo siento mucho, por favor. Please let go of me” His pleas fall on deaf ears as his arm hung weakly by his side.

Make me write ✍️

[bookishgalaxies]

A Little Company

summary: you just want Kaeya to feel happy on this day.

pairing: kaeya x gn!reader

type: oneshot, not proofread

warnings: mentions of death, grieving (??)

a/n: anytime I play with Kaeya I keep the volume off because his voice low-key annoys me 😭

————————★————————

Everyone knew that Dawn Winery was closed on this particular day, and no one minded. The citizens of Mondstadt knew that today was a time when Diluc went off to an unknown place and let his staff have the day off. The regular day to day person didn’t know the reason for this but those closer to the family did.

It was the day of death for Diluc and Kaeya’s father. One that Diluc always spent mourning at his father’s grave. Kaeya, however, had a different plan each year. Sometimes he would do as many commissions as his body could handle for a much grateful Katheryne. Other times he would help Jean with taxing paperwork to distract his mind. A gesture that often did not go past her head as simply a way to help out.

This time, he was told by Jean to take the day off. Insisting the Traveler and Paimon would take care of anything they needed.

“Jean, you know there’s always work to be done around here.” Kaeya commented, leaning against the wall in her office.

“And we’ve got it handled. Go take a nice stroll, maybe get a meal at Good Hunter. You could use a day off Kaeya.” Jean responded, standing up from her chair and crossing her arms.

“You’re always commenting on how lazy I am. Complaining about how I’m constantly trying to get out of work. Yet now, you want to give me the day off?” Kaeya questioned, an eyebrow raising.

“I’ve got to go help Lisa with tracking down some misplaced library books, I better not come back to you still standing in this office.” Jean answered, walking past him and trusting him to shut the door after he sees himself out.

As much as he wanted to stay there just to spite Jean, he didn’t. Deciding it would be nice to take a stroll around Starfell Valley. Possibly take care of a few Hillichurl camps if need be. Maybe even catch the sunset stop Starsnatch cliff. It was a nice idea; Kaeya decided to try it.

Evening came quicker than he anticipated. He hadn’t realized how far he had hiked until he payed attention to the more orange glow the sun started to have and the pain in his legs. His mind had been elsewhere and he wouldn’t admit it. He knew he shouldn’t have spent this day alone. Being alone only gave him time to think.

His brother always paid proper tribute to his father but Kaeya couldn’t bring himself to visit the man’s grave. It was too….it made it too real. Kaeya knew his dad was long gone, though there days he liked to pretend otherwise.

He was surprised to see you sitting atop the cliff when he arrived. A basket sat next to you which piqued his curiosity.

“A picnic hmm?” He asked, sitting down beside you and motioning to the basket. You could tell his voice lacked the buoyance that it normally possessed.

You knew what today was and you knew how Kaeya avoided it. You’d seen him for years ignore the significance of the date and hide the pain that came to his eyes.

Pulling out a parcel from the basket, you handed it to him.

“I had Sara make it for you. She told me it was your favorite and I figured you’d be hungry after climbing all this way.” You offered it to him with a small smile.

“It smells delicious…but how’d you know I was going to be here?” He responded with a bit of surprise, taking the parcel in his hands and unwrapping it.

“Because I took care of Jean’s paperwork, made sure the Traveler and Paimon would be here, and bought out all the wine in the other taverns around Mondstadt.” You confessed, watching him eat the meal you had gotten him.

You watched him raise an eyebrow in question.

“I knew you’d try to hide from it Kaeya, the significance of this day. I wasn’t going to let you. Everyone deserves the opportunity to be alone and reflect. I knew you wouldn’t chase after the opportunity to do so yourself. So, I found a way to gently push you in the right direction.”

He was a bit stunned by how you had gone out of your way to do all this for him. You forced him to take the time he knew he needed but would never give himself. For once, he was completely silent after your statement. No quick-witted remark or flirty compliment, just thoughtful silence.

“Thank you, you clearly care about me if you were willing to do all of this.” He stared, looking at you in the orange light of the setting sun.

“I do care for you and I want you to be happy. Not just temporary happiness though. You deserve the kind of happiness that comes after reflection and thought.” You replied

He desperately wanted to lighten the mood. He couldn’t possibly respond in an equally meaningful manner to you. So, he reached an arm around you to slowly open the picnic basket.

“You wouldn’t have happened to bring any of that wine you bought, would you?” A small mischievous smile danced on his lips.

You laughed lightly and gently swatted his hand away from the basket.

“Easy, easy, I was getting to that.”

Pulling out a bottle of wine from The Cat’s Tail, you handed it to him with a glass to pour it in. Getting up, you dusted your clothing off. You gave him a small wave, then turned and took a few steps in the opposite direction.

“Now wait just a moment, where are you going? Leaving me all alone with a nice meal and a bottle of wine is quite rude you know.” Kaeya stated in a gentle tone, a small chuckle coming out afterwards.

“I figured you could use a bit more time to yourself.” You turned to face him as you replied.

Looking up at you with a smirk he motioned to the spot you had been previously sitting in.

“Well since it’s you, I wouldn’t mind a little company.”

————————★————————

Hope you had a happy time reading :)

Wishing you a delightful morning / night <3

[eulogyfornobody]

Acceptance when you have Chronic Pain

I saw this video on Youtube of a psychologist (Dr. Diane LaChapelle) talking about acceptance when you have chronic pain. Here is a summary of it.

2 components of acceptance

Pain willingness -> involves recognizing that the pain or condition is chronic and that efforts to control or avoid it may not be effective.

Activity engagement -> encourages individuals to continue living their lives despite the challenges posed by their conditions.

Why it's so hard for people to accept

The term "acceptance" itself can be met with resistance. Patients expressed feeling defeated and hopeless when told to accept their conditions, interpreting it as giving up on the possibility of improvement.

Nuance of Acceptance

Acceptance is not a one-time thing - it's a nuanced, ongoing process that involves acknowledging the chronic nature of the condition, making lifestyle adjustments, and gradually redefining one's sense of normalcy. Acceptance fluctuates, with some days being more accepting than others.

Factors facilitating acceptance

Importance of a proper diagnosis.

Acknowledge chronic nature without giving in to despair.

Do and try what you need, but don't obsess over finding the cure

Use language that resonates: "coping with" or "dealing with."

Losses and emotional turmoil

Patients often experience a range of emotions, including disbelief, anxiety, depression, guilt, and anger.

The saddest thing about anger is that it's the people cloest to use that get the brunt of our anger and irritability - and this can cause a lot of problems in relationships. When you're in pain 24 hours a day, every little thing annoys you because you're always on edge

The losses associated with giving up activities and roles can lead to a profound sense of grief, impacting one's identity and contributing to emotional turmoil.

70-100% of individuals with chronic illnesses experience depression due to associated losses.

Identifying the losses

Figure out what the most distressing loss is

By pinpointing the most distressing aspects, individuals gain a starting point for managing associated emotions.

Expressing emotions is encouraged, be it through talking, journaling, or seeking professional support.

Strategies for Coping and Acceptance:

Identify Priorities and Core Values: Encourages individuals to reflect on their priorities and core values.

Take Responsibility for Changes: Actially MAKE the necessary changes in life based on identified priorities. Priorities can change based on symptoms, and it's important to make conscious decisions instead of going on auto-pilot.

Focus on Today and Practice Mindfulness: Recommends evaluating daily accomplishments in the context of the present, promoting mindfulness to shift focus from the past or future. Don't compare yourself now to the level of achievement you except in the PAST. Be compassionate and evaluate based on how you're feeling TODAY, and how you feel about what you've done today given that you're in X/10 pain.

Gratitude Journal: keep a gratitude journal to foster positivity and appreciation for daily achievements. Think of 3-4 things you are grateful about to end the day positively.

Embracing acceptance is vital in tackling chronic pain, helping to ease emotional distress, and paving the way for healthier coping mechanisms. It's about acknowledging and validating the emotions tied to pain, breaking free from the constant struggle, and gaining a more realistic outlook. Acceptance empowers individuals to adapt, stay engaged in meaningful activities, and avoid the pitfalls of catastrophic thinking.

[snippychicke]

It's just Business-- Seven (Decay)

Posted 7 and 8 yo Ao3 last night, thought I better share

At first, things had been better than you had initially expected. The bonds of friendship bloomed fast between you and the rest of the crew. Not nearly as strong as the one between you and Sanji, of course, but still plenty strong. You and Nami had virtually bonded instantly over the fact no one else seemed to have a level-head on their shoulders (you would argue Sanji, and then he’d swan in with a snack and his charming skills turned to 'sappy and over the top' which completely defeated your argument.)

And Usopp's stories caught your imagination right away. Despite being completely outlandish, there was just something that pulled you right in.

While Zoro seemed to hold a grudge towards Sanji for some odd reason you still couldn't understand, those feelings didn't seem to reflect on you. The green-haired swordsman kept to himself, but it was a companionable silence when you happened to occupy the same space.

Then there was Luffy, who could sometimes be annoying and yet inspiring at the same time. You also had to admit, his habit of constantly touching people was nice. Friendly little claps on the shoulder or arm, or sometimes --like when you were trying to look through a spyglass-- he would lean against your back with his head on yours as if the concept of personal space meant nothing. After being touch-deprived yourself, it was a comforting feeling.

Everything was idyllic really… until it wasn't.

Attack from marines. Bounty hunters. Other pirates. Your crazy-ass captain deciding that toppling a local government sounded fair payment for a meal.

You were the helmsman. The book keeper. But the crew was small and you were good at being a jack-of-all-trades.

You could fight and were often too stubborn to flee if Zoro, Luffy, and Sanji decided to stay and fight, even if your ability paled in comparison to theirs. You were often the first to be knocked out during a fight, though that had yet to stop you. The more the boys (mainly Sanji, Luffy and Zoro seemed to trust your choices oddly enough) told you to retreat, the more you dug your heels in. You loved Usopp, but refused to be a coward. And Nami was usually sneakier in her plans but would hold her own as well when needed.

Or, more often, you were becoming a makeshift doctor, cleaning and bandaging wounds of both your crewmates and people you literally just met. You picked up books on medicine just to learn more in hopes you could keep your crew alive until you found an actual doctor. You were not getting used to having other people's lives in your hands, and felt ill every time you had to stitch a wound back together.

This was not what you signed up for.

But you wouldn't quit.

You held on to the good moments. Seeing everyone's smiles, hearing their laughter. No matter how dark or treacherous things became, you had faith that everyone would pull through. That at the end of all of it, you would be back in the Going Merry, surrounded by your friends.

That you could sit on a counter in the galley, watching Sanji cook while everyone celebrated, and sharing a private toast of your own glass with his, knowing he was alive and okay.

~*~

Fuck fuck fuck

Sanji saw you fly back after taking a hit to the gut, and heard your bone-chilling scream of pain as you landed. His vision turned red and he tasted blood as he bit his tongue as he pushed himself harder against the thin but speedy bastard in front of him. He had to get to you. He hated when you screamed like that, knowing you usually bit back any sounds of pain like the rest of them.

A hard kick finally landed in the bastard’s side, sending him flying into the side of a building, causing the wall to crumble down on him. Sanji wasted no time, as soon as he landed he turned on his heel and darted for you.

Sanji had been through hell quite a few times in his life. Even before becoming a pirate he had endured things that would kill others. But everytime he saw you hit the ground hard and not get up, he swore his heart stopped. Having to continue to fight, knowing he had to defeat his opponent before he could rush to your side, killed him. (And usually his target as well in an unusually brutal manner.)

He thanked whatever deity kept you alive every time, but feared someday that grace would run out.

Thankfully, that day was not today, though he was sure you wished otherwise judging by the expression of pain on your face.

“Shit,” he swore as he dropped to your side, his gaze quickly trying to find what was making you whine in pain, mindless of what was going on around you.

Or so he thought until you cracked open an eye. “Hard landing. I-I don’t think anything is broken just--god-- concussion maybe? I don’t really know, I feel kinda sick, and my whole body just hurts.”

Sanji tried to smile wryly as he cupped your face, trying to comfort you somehow. Of course his girl would try to play makeshift doctor despite sweat beading your forehead.

Granted, you were the one that had been studying intently over any medical book you could get your hands on during the peaceful moments. You were too grounded, too responsible, to let victory go to your head. He had been able to see the shadows haunting your expression when you thought no one was looking. In those moments, he could see your mind ticking as you worried about next time. About situations that may or may not arise and how to deal with them. What made you good in business was proving to be a stressor in the carefree lifestyle of a pirate.

Just as you hadn't belonged among the staff or the Baratie, Sanji feared you weren't happy here as well.

“I’ll take care of you, promise,” he swore as he carefully picked you up, heart aching as he heard you try and fail to hold back whimpers of pain. You clutched tightly to him, face pressed against his shoulder to quiet your cry.

He asked you to follow. Even when you said no, that you had no interest… he convinced you. For this.

How selfish could he be?

[aromanticannibal]

How Mineta (and y'know the others) got into the hero course (and other Entrance Exam thoughts)

So there's this pseudo-joke/"plothole" people in the MHA fandom talk about (seriously or not) concerning how some 1-A and 1-B students got into the hero course. I'll try to answer that here. (Because that joke annoys me to no end /lh).

First of all, what's the entrance exam like?

We're not gonna be talking about the theoretical exams or whatever the fuck, just the practical exam, aka the robots. That happens in chapter 3, which damn that was long ago, and is explained my favorite idiot, Present Mic. See :

The exam is 10 minutes long, it happens in a large fake cityscape. There's 3 types of robots that give more or less points when defeated and one robot that gives no points when defeated and "rampages when it's crowded". Students are allowed to bring whatever they want with them, but it's unclear if they can bring equipment unrelated to their quirks. I'd assume no, because otherwise Shinsou or Midoriya could have brought something to help them (but perhaps they weren't aware of this option - though All Might would have probably told Midoriya) :

On top of points gained by destroying robots, there are "rescue points" that can be acquired by saving people : as much as 60 points can be obtained for saving one person (see Midoriya saving Uraraka) even if the robot destroyed doesn't give any points.

Now, with the students.

I'll start with Mineta because he's the one I'm using in my title. Mineta, IMO, is more than capable of succeeding at the entrance exam. For one, his quirk is very useful in it : he can just drop sticky balls near robots, or throw a bunch near articulations, and the robots when break as they try to keep moving. He doesn't even need skill to do that, beyond aiming eventually. Additionally, Horikoshi apparently provided an explanation as to how Mineta could pass the exam (binding the robots to walls or blocking their cannons with his quirk) somewhere in volume 2. Finally, as much as I know most people in the fandom dislike Mineta, he is canonically an okay student, skills wise. He's cowardly and is distracted too easily and often, and that's his biggest problems. According to the Ultra Archive Book, he has a B in Technique and an A in Intelligence, and in the Ultra Analysis Book, an A in Technique and an A+ in Wits. He very much could have passed the entrance exam, and he very much did, and it's not hard to figure out why.

Now onto the less easily explainable character : Hagakure Tooru. This one, I understand where the confusion comes from. At first sight, her quirk isn't offensive at all, and just makes her invisible, which is as useful for fighting robots as Brainwashing is. Currently, Hagakure can reflect light well enough to manipulate things like Aoyama's laser, which is definitely offensive, but at the start of the manga she cannot do it : she learns this during her work studies, and refines it throughout the story : what she can do at the time of the entrance exam is refract light. My theory is that she would blind the robots with light, either making them malfunction and break just with that (either because their cameras break or because they like run into walls or something), or taking advantage of their blindness to attack them with a weapon. She could have also taken advantage of her invisibility to sneak up on the robots (somehow). Additionally, she could absolutely have gotten rescue points by saving other students.

Most other members of 1-A aren't really mentioned when talking about "how did X get through the entrance exam" as most of them have offensive quirks. If I have to guess who could have had trouble with the exam, Kouda is the first one that comes to mind - he would have had to summon birds, probably, as other animals likely weren't there due to y'know, the setting being artificial and contained, and he wouldn't be able to use insects as he's still scared of them at this point. I think it's likely he got rescue points too, as his quirk can serve as a distraction, which would allow him to help others escape certain situations.

For 1-B, I suppose most people don't question them because most people don't really... care about 1-B, which is fair given their screen time. However, I'll look into the students to see which ones would potentially have trouble with their entrance exam.

Shihai Kuroiro's quirk, Black, allows him to merge with anything that's dark, whether caused by circumstance (shadows) or naturally dark in color. At the time of the exam, this does not come with any offensive qualities (later he can move things he's merged with as long as they can move naturally). The entrance exam being set in a cityscape with tall skyscrapers implies that There Are Going To Be Shadows, like. Obviously, which definitely helps. Moreover, I'd assume the robots have at least some parts of them that are dark. Kuroiro can "half-merge" for lack of better words :

So I imagine he could merge into the robots, fuck around with whatever's available (either by punching whatever's there or by ripping out cables or parts) and boom, robot destroyed, points gained.

The only other student that could have struggled is Monoma, because he most likely didn't know the people around him nor their quirks, which must have slowed him down a bit, especially given the fact that if his body can't handle the quirk he copies, he could get hurt. However, Monoma is both smart enough to figure others quirks out, smart enough to have brought a weapon or taken a metal scrap or something if he was struggling with quirks, and enough of a dick (<3) to have no qualms about hitting someone behind the head to get their quirk if needed, so he's fine.

That's it for this part. It still makes me so annoyed to see people being like "how did Mineta get into UA" "how did Hagakure pass the entrance exam" because like. Please put down your opinion of the characters for ONE SECOND and think with your brain for a minute. Mineta is a pervert and a coward but he is canonically smart (when no girls are around) and canonically is skilled using his quirk. Obviously he passed the entrance exam. And generally, obviously most characters passed the entrance exam, because they have good quirks (for the most part) and are trying to be heroes - our main cast (again, putting aside fanon interpretation or canon but unintended characters being shitty) is made of characters who want to help people, or grow to want to help and save and protect others : most of them are going to get at least some rescue points. Most of the characters whose points we can see are actually pretty balanced, ie: 39 villain/35 rescue for Kirishima, 36V/32R for Ibara... the characters with more villain points tend to have more offensive quirks, like Tetsutetsu with 49V against 10R, etc. Not every character is Midoriya (who struggled with his new quirk and needed his heroic instinct to flare up, 0V/60R), Bakugou (who is notoriously too focused on beating villains up and winning at the start of the story, 77V/0R), Iida (who was too focused on the instructions that were given and didn't act naturally, 52V/9R)... So most characters are going to get a more even score, where characters with offensive quirks will probably be more focused on destroying robots and helped a bit by rescuing, and characters with more defensive quirks will be carried by rescue points.

Finally, to end on my favorite guy Shinsou Hitoshi; he failed the exam for a good reason. No one "stole his place", he messed up; it's not entirely his fault, because I do believe the entrance exam is way too in favor of people with offensive quirks, but he still is partly at fault. His problem at the start of the story is that he relies way too much on his quirk, which is very powerful but requires many conditions being met to be activated. He isn't trained enough physically - during the Sports Festival, he basically has Midoriya's body type before he started training with All Might, aka, noodle arms. He's very smart and has no problem using other people to get what he wants, but that just didn't work during the entrance exam, because he can't attack other students (and brainwashing them to do the work for him works in no universe in this situation). I wholeheartedly believe he would have been able to enter UA's hero course if he was more trained physically and more skilled technically (after all, Aizawa has to have passed the entrance exam somehow, and I doubt he actually got in through the sports festival, because otherwise it would be mentioned, by Shinsou, Aizawa or anyone comparing the two). Moreover, he may have gotten rescue points, but either didn't get enough to pass without any villain points like Midoriya, or didn't get enough because he was too focused on his own success to help others, similar to Iida.

Anyways, mic drop, whatever, it's honestly too late to be still writing this. I hope this was useful to literally anyone.

[hekateinhell]

Okay, so, Armand collects poetry. It started after he met Lestat and after Nicki had passed. Nicki's writings, when not for the Théâtre des Vampires, were something that mostly annoyed Armand and he didn't see much value in them. It was a mad man's hobby, and something that was a requirement to pacify the man - a tedious supply of paper and ink for their playwright to squander on inane scribblings. It wasn't until after his passing that Armand really looked at anything Nicki wrote, and while it may not have touched his soul or heart (not that he could identify, anyway), it was interesting to him. It was different, threadbare, and vulnerable in a way that even his mind gift didn't reveal to him in other vampires. And despite it being written in Nicki's hand, he realized with some irritation that it made him think less of his tortured violinist, and more and more of the blonde, lively, insufferable idiot of a vampire that was Lestat. I think he saw glimpses into a past version of Nicki that he never knew, and through that he saw the same person who had equally stirred, disturbed, and intrigued the both of them. It was a quiet collection. He kept some of Nicki's writings, less of sentimental value and more of aesthetic nature. He had ones he liked, but he didn't think that he was particularly moved by the words. It was just interesting enough that he would keep them, that was all.

It wasn't often that someone he killed had a book of poetry on them either - what are the odds of that, really? - but it did happen once, and again, out of curiosity, he flipped through the book and found himself thinking back on Lestat, and he pocketed it. A small collection, but a collection nonetheless: it was secret, and it was his. This happened a few times over the next century. Not too many - he didn't particularly seek them out - but his collection grew to a small box full by the time he met Louis. They didn't survive the fire, but in Armand's mind, he didn't particularly care. They were just things that he was never really attached to anyways, he didn't know why he even kept them. And then he saw Louis reading a book one day, and he found that once more, he saw poetry reflected in the man he loved. Nicki's poetry was of hurt and pain and anger, and there was a screaming desire for life and death that made him think of Lestat, but Louis had a more thoughtful selection, a more quiet, placid taste in the little wonders of the mortal world. Armand's collection started again, and little by little, he had assembled a small box of poetry that he associated with Louis. It didn't last long, and Armand insisted he wasn't sentimental about it. Put in a storage somewhere that he wouldn't return to but never forgot, he went on for decades without collecting them again until he met a young reporter boy by the name of Daniel. There were modern trends in poetry that Armand hadn't bothered to look into or keep up with - slam poetry, freeform poetry, words that bounced across pages like ping-pong balls for the fun of it. It wasn't until they were courting each other fully and going from one artist's party to the next that he decided to seek out poems that made him think of his new lover. Modern, rough, strange, young, erratic, hungry poetry. He still has his box of poetry that he associates with Daniel at his home, wherever he calls home at the moment. He keeps it a secret, not just Daniel's, but all of the poems he's collected over the past few lifetimes of the different men he's loved, because those are parts of his heart that he's not sharing.

Klay, dude...

How could you come into my ask box and completely and utterly eviscerate me like this? 🥹

He keeps it a secret, not just Daniel's, but all of the poems he's collected over the past few lifetimes of the different men he's loved, because those are parts of his heart that he's not sharing.

Just the progression of it being something he told himself invoked no feeling and meant nothing, to becoming these cherished mementos and something that is uniquely, truly his...

Respectfully, I am in pieces.

(I hope Lestat, Louis, and Daniel know Armand has a not-so-secret love of poetry and inadvertently add to his collection every now and then).

[fledglingmaster]

I wonder who I am when I dissociate.

When I was a child, maybe around 5 or 6, I told people it felt like I was in a dream though I was awake. Nothing felt real and it was all hazy. But I was still in complete control of my actions. I had clear thoughts. I do get that sometimes but it is very rare these days. You could say I outgrew it.

Sometimes it feels like I'm on autopilot, just going through the motions. I spit out sentenses hoping it's the correct response or any response really. It's as if I'm half-asleep, no energy left in me, thoughts empty, completely checked out. Usually this stems from lack of sleep or after going through extreme stress. Just burnt out.

Other times it feels as if I'm hovering outside of my body. I'm somewhat in control, but not grounded in my body. It's as if I'm occupying two spaces at once. There's a delay as well. I feel like the middle man for my own thoughts and body responses. It's at these times I don't recognize my face in reflections and I get very disturbed by it. My eyes are always wrong. This can be more annoying than frightening as long as I avoid mirrors. It's often unprompted and can last several days.

All of those ways I dissociate are uncomfortable, but I can handle it. The one I really don't like is when I feel I'm just watching my own body and I have no control. I'm impulsive. I say and do things I wouldn't normally do. It reminds me of being in fight or flight (or freeze or fawn). Maybe that's all it is. It does happen when I'm highly emotional. I'm usually scared, angry, and/or sad. But I don't see how picking a fight with a guy that's 6' 4" is my best survival instinct. It seems like the behavior is always risky and reckless. It's the opposite of who I am. It used to happen every once and a while when I was younger but I've noticed it more in my 20's to now.

Equally scary are the times I'm not sure where I go. I have 2-3 years that are mostly blank. It was as if I only surfaced a few times within that span. But obviously I was alive...so what happened? That hasn't happened in a couple years. Unfortunately, I was present during anything traumatic. A lot happened during the first year I ever experienced this. Then I just didn't come back for a long time. When I was with it enough, I was self-destructive and suicidal. I'm assuming this was my mind's way to cope and keep me alive. (I'm much better these days. I have no plans of leaving this earth early.)

I worry about either of the last two options being triggered again. Especially as I don't really understand what or why it happens. I get dissociation, but it feels like it keeps evolving for lack of a better word. I don't write this because I want to share my sob story. I want to figure out what is going on. Perhaps I shouldn't worry over something that might not ever happen again. But I like being prepared.

[sunstranded]

INTJ: Overthinking

I am a recipient of the phrase: "you are overthinking it," so much so that it's noise to me. It is absolutely meaningless with how often it's misused and feared wrongly. I hope I am not overthinking it by explaining my thought-through opinion.

That sounded snarky but that is by design. You see, people say so much but mean so little nowadays. I do not hold it against them, I don't like taking life too seriously myself but when it comes to speaking, I think it is of the INTJ brand to have every word be intended. Orchestrated, more like. We orchestrate this way of saying things after having Te actualize our Ni data.

Whenever I take my time before answering (because "it depends" is not a sufficient answer anyone wants to hear), I get this comment of overthinking it. Have they ever considered the plausibility of people not thinking enough and I am thinking the right amount?

It is annoying to find people so fear-stricken by the thought of thinking. But at the same time these people also humor their deluded conceptions of reality. I swear, this line of thinking is so stereotypically INTJ, I keep watching videos where INTJs outright just say "I'm surrounded by idiots" or "People are braindead." In my defense, I don't attach my identity to my type but I acknowledge the trend and the utility typology brings me.

I digress, let me explain the word in question here. Overthinking, oh how should we define such an exhausted and bloated word? People can just search its dictionary definition and etymology so let me give something else: the connotation people have for it and my own interpretation of it.

People's Interpretation:

Overthinking has a negative connotation, a comment on behavior that shows hesitation, doubt, or anxiety. Overthinking is perceived as an overdose of being in your head.

My Interpretation:

Overthinking people often refer to is just doubt, hesitation, and or but not limited to anxiety. Overthinking is not being in your head for too long, that to me is in the realm of self-rumination. Overthinking to me is the unnecessary complication of an idea. This could manifest in people's hesitation but hesitation can sometimes be due to just thinking.

I do not like the notion of overthinking being interwoven to feelings. To me that is no longer overthinking, that is an internal turmoil. A conflict of the self. Not your thought process going on overdrive.

Overthinking in my definition could also manifest in tiredness. Complicating things when we're on that slippery slope to burn out and blocks.

Anyway, I want to move on to why fearing overthinking (people's definition) is dangerous.

Again, these people have coined overthinking to hesitation, doubt, anxiety, and the like. These are negative emotions, it's within that area of self-rumination where self-reflection takes a muddled and ugly turn. When overthinking is feared because of this misconception, I think people would also find it easy to mistake thinking as a bad thing.

When thinking, such as critical thinking, is considered bad then opinions are just frustratingly unreasonable or lackluster in thought. People can jump to wrong conclusions, people can assume they have learned enough, people can easily pretend to be an intellectual. Things are not thought through well.

It's frustrating, really. It's actually one of the reasons I froth being in the presence of my INFJ friends. I remember an INFJ friend of mine told me how nice it is to talk to me where we can literally deep dive into things unhindered and trusting of both our comprehension to follow and eagerness to continue. I froth deep diving into things more than dolphin jumping from topic to topic. I agree with that. I often feel hindered by etiquette and people's fleeting interests in a discussions, leaving me often dissatisfied.

What's worse for me is that these people who claim to have mental illness on their fleeting attention are so trigger-happy and satisfied with oversimplified definitions. I hope they get diagnosed properly and I also hope this mental illness debacle stops being such a lighthearted matter to people. It should be an uncomfortable subject. Just as unsettling as looking at someone's open wound. I fear for these people; sometimes I wish science was faster in verifying the existence of "shortened attention span due to media consumption." Right now whenever I propose this premise to people, they ask me for data but it doesn't take much intuition to see it's plausible and it should have data rather than it must have data.

This has transcended to mental health which I think is still related anyway. I can see the connection as I deduce how people interpret and should interpret overthinking. I hope others too, it would be very unfortunate if this post in itself is a manifestation of my own overthinking tendencies.

However, to clarify, my definition of overthinking is when thought is overdone to the point of overcomplication. Overthinking can also exist alongside emotions but I don't want them to be intertwined; you can overthink due to anxiety. The reason for this distinction is it is important to first identify the anxiety or reason for overthinking so you may find when, why, and how you started to overthink a concept.

Now the term over is highly relative, so I think to call someone overthinking or overcomplicating something is still up to the context, subtext, pretext.

[lordundying]

3, 13, 17 for varya & euphie!

thank you macy!! i kiss 💌

weirdly specific but helpful character building questions

— how often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

i would say it's a pretty cool 25% on showing the genuine emotion in everything but her original fantasyverse, and most of the time it's just a bit of the surface of what she's actually feeling. typically, i write outside of varya from the pov of people around her, because the crux of her character in most fics is that she's, say, playing 5d chess while someone like roman is using the chess board to incur blunt force trauma.

the exception, rather than the rule, is ruin or rapture—largely because the audience sits in her pov despite her being the antagonist for an equal amount of time as the protagonist, and also because everything is just different for her in that universe; her loved ones, the ties that bind her, her goals etc!

— when do they fake a smile? how often?

whenever it would get her what she wants, and she wants things frequently. she never fake smiles for the sake of someone else (letting someone think they're funny, for example) and only ever does it to serve herself.

— what do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

she always notices her own eyes first. lots of eye horror in that girl's life (primarily in ror) and the confirmation her eyes are familiar is how she keeps herself grounded in reality a lot. especially when her transformation starts really picking up, both from the lazarus pit & from the pact she makes in ror, her eyes are markedly different with that tapetum lucidum/animal light reflection.

people usually notice her hair first, i think! because it's so long and always done-up one way or another.

— how often do they show their genuine emotions to others versus just the audience knowing?

euphie is like a 70-30 girl when it comes to showing genuine emotion. she's not as good at hiding her thoughts and feelings as she would like to be, especially when someone is annoying her ("ice queen euphie" said with derogatory intentions). her rbf is insane. her active bitch face is also insane. she gets better at it the longer she spends under the table, and by the time the marquis is in her life she has to be very mindful of it for the sake of making it out of that viper pit alive. almost all of her canon verse is spent in her pov, though, so audience members never really wonder what she's thinking lol.

— when do they fake a smile? how often?

early days under the table and before santi, euphie was frequently bouncing around being arm candy for whatever big, scary gangster wanted her—not who she wanted, so there was a lot of fake smiling going on. post the events of jw4, she hardly ever fake smiles, perfectly content to let anyone around her be aware of her disapproval.

— what do they notice first in the mirror versus what most people first notice looking at them?

euphie always notices her neck scar first, even if it's packed down with makeup. haunted by themes and narratives, as it were. people usually notice her eyes first; santino always told her they were her best feature.