#I'm way happier without it

[vole-mon-amour]

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[imminent-danger-came]

Monkey MK: "There's something inside you, that you can't control. You know what you are, deep down. A beast, a monster—harbinger of chaos! This thing, that wants to hurt, that wants to destroy, that wants chaos! You're so terrified to let it out! But the truth is, you like it. It makes you feel strong. It's who you are!"

(5x04 The Storm Within)

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Nine: "No, I told you, I get out either way! But, I have had enough of control, enough of watching people put themselves in cages! Of...watching them push away the chaos, when the chaos is what makes them who they are!"

(5x09 Sacrifice)

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*sweats*

[suaimhneas-gairid]

Vax'ildan 🪶👑🗡️

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[neallo]

have been experiencing a somewhat unpleasant phenomena on occasion recently wherein i become convinced, in a sort of “not-upset-just-disappointed” way, that virtually everything i've ever written is trite and stupid and worthless. a fun twist on this is that sometimes i instead feel that i have lost my touch and that everything i will ever write from here on out is doomed to be trite and stupid and worthless. i'd like to emphasize that for whatever reason i don't really find this distressing, just a little bit of a bummer. it would be cool if it stopped though i think that would be really swag

[luv-again]

my mum singing jingle bells downstairs :

my immediate visceral reaction : UUUGGGGHHHHAAAARRRGGHHH

[wereh0gz]

Not feeling great abt some of my creative endeavors rn

[gayjaytodd]

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[yesplsnothankyou]

I only come on tumblr when I'm at the very end of my rope and barely hanging on by a quickly disintegrating thread and I don't know what that tells you about me

[sugurau]

working on my 'it worked out okay' au and it just makes me sad to think about what could've been. suguru is a teacher in this au as expected, but i'm just thinking about what it was like, coming back from the ledge. being able to have that talk with satoru, with shoko. i think another talk with yuki occurs. suguru realizing that he isn't alone, that these thoughts he's having are borne of trauma and rage and grief, that he's just a broken boy who was almost painfully, irrevocably, misguided.

in this verse i'm working on, i am playing with the concept of him, unfortunately, still slaughtering that village. he takes in mimiko and nanako. he is very much removed from jujutsu high for a while as he is evaluated as a threat. suguru gets a lot of help but i do think he's still rather deeply mistrusted by many in the community now, even after he's cleared, especially because he's a special grade and his fall from grace can eventually become a very important, teachable moment for others. it just takes...a lot for everyone to trust him again.

most people, i mean. i think some know his heart regardless.

[blujayonthewing]

a fundamental problem with me is that I do like people and I like being around other people and I like hanging out with my friends but I also almost exclusively like doing completely solo activities, which isn't, you know, how anyone expects or wants socializing to work

[finitestateai]

I hate how many of my brain things become self perpetrating loops of feeling bad.

Today was "I feel like a burden" day. Which is a really, really hard feeling to tell people about because telling someone that I feel bad because I feel like a burden makes me feel like even more of a burden.

I already know that most people don't think of me as a burden, which makes me feel terrible because I can't help feeling like one. Which makes me feel like a burden because I can't even deal with that, and then it loops.

I know the thoughts aren't true. But the fact that I can't shake them makes me feel worse. Annoyingly.

[meezer]

think I might genuinely identify as aroace. which is weird because I'm probably The most hopelessly romantic person and The person who most believes in the power of love and existence of unconditional love, out of everyone I know.

[theheadlessgroom]

https://www.tumblr.com/beatingheart-bride/712995837826007040/beatingheart-bride-theheadlessgroom

@beatingheart-bride

Randall couldn’t help but feel his stomach do a flip when Emily mentioned having a (hypothetical) daughter, the image of a sweet little cherub, the spitting image of her mother, seated on her knee popping into his mind-it was an image that tugged at his heartstrings to picture. She would make such a lovely mother, he was sure...

(Of course, such a sweet little angel could never been born of a man like him-even if he may not be the Devil’s Child, as he long thought he was, he still had a devilish countenance, and he would never forgive himself were he to pass such a horrible face onto an innocent child...)

Shaking these thoughts out of his head (he really needed to not let his mind wander off, filling his head with such depressing thoughts when he could be putting all of his attention on his lovely guest), Randall drained the last of his tea, saying, “I’m just surprised she lasted as long as she did-I know her fan club had a lot to do with her tenure here, but other performers who had an attitude didn’t last too long under Holloway’s management. He wanted the opera to be a peaceful place to work, and if you didn’t make it so, well...he’d show you the door!”

Honestly, if he could’ve had his way and not faced the inevitable backlash, Holloway probably would’ve had La Constance kicked out long ago. Even though she was a consistent moneymaker and was virtually a guarantee for a packed house, Randall had long sensed that the manager liked the diva even less than the Opera Ghost did...perhaps that was why Holloway was so hands-off when it came to La Constance’s whining about “something being done about that damned ghost”...

[pseudowho]

"Yuuji-- if you don't mind, can I ask you something?"

Yuuji looked up from his phone, feeling so grown up to be in the Jujutsu High staffroom with Kento. He raised his eyebrows, the scar across his lip tugging up.

"Uh...yeah, sure. Go crazy."

"What is scary dog privilege, exactly?"

"Scary dog privilege? Huh, well...let's see, uhm...so it's like..."

Yuuji explained, all peaches and wide eyes and animated hands. Kento nodded occasionally, listening intently. His mind, naturally, strayed to you; you were what this was all about, after all.

As with any thought of you (you being his blossoming latent obsession), Kento's stomach flipped, his grip tightening fractionally around his coffee.

Kento remembered.

He remembered when he dropped you home. You checked over your shoulder, again, and again, and again, before you unlocked your door and hurried inside.

He remembered how he had once walked up behind you without much thought, and you spun with panic in your eyes. Kento recalled how quickly you had relaxed, to see it was him, and how high his hope climbed as a result.

He remembered how you had spilled the contents of your bag. You snatched your pepper spray up in the hope that his keen eyes had missed it.

He remembered how you headed to the subway after a staff night out. Your keys had been curiously gripped between your fingers, a weapon that wasn't a weapon.

He remembered, how just the day before, he and you had walked together through central Tokyo to get lunch. You had sat on a park bench together, and Kento had been so overwhelmed by the need to hold it together, Kento, keep it together, that he barely registered the relief written on your skin.

You had eaten in comfortable silence, then leaned over to him, pressing a kiss to his cheek on the way to the bins.

"Thanks for the scary dog privilege, Kento. It's the first time in a long time that I've relaxed in public."

Kento's eyes had drifted closed for just a few moments too long, with the warmth of your lips on his skin, and he stuttered, fumbling, unlike himself.

"Ah...scary...dog privilege?" He asked, quiet. But you were already gone; throwing your crumbs to the ducks.

Yuuji's voice snapped Kento out of memory, and back to the staffroom.

"Dunno if that makes sense, Nanamin?"

A molten pit of spite and rage ignited in Kento once he put two and two together. Scary dog privilege. He gave you scary dog privilege. Why was walking the streets in safety a privilege? Shit. Kento kept his voice level, patting Yuuji on the shoulder as he left, his steaming coffee abandoned.

"Thank you, Yuuji. Stay safe out there this afternoon, and call me when you're finished, please."

If Kento hadn't already felt dirty enough with the knowledge that he pleasured himself to thoughts of you every night, he felt worse, now. He stalked through the corridors of Jujutsu High, calling Ijichi, calling Shoko, determined to find you.

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Once you noticed how one man's gaze lingered on you, you noticed them all. To you, almost all seemed to do it, and to every woman, be they 18 or 80, tall or short or curvy or lithe or gay or straight or anywhere in between. Then, when you began to notice the gazes on 16 year olds, or 12 year olds, or--

You had nauseated by the time you turned the corner to grab lunch. Simultaneously built up and dragged down and accused, you were a madonna and a whore and a bitch. You wondered, vaguely, how deeply, how incurably the disease ran, as you entered the bustling café. You didn't want to think about it. You'd just grab food, and go, and--

"Ah. Good afternoon."

You blinked, to see Kento before you in the queue, and felt a warm burst of joy from your tummy to your toes.

"Kento, I'm...happier than you know, to see you, actually."

A satisfied hum. "I had a feeling you might be. Now...about something you said yesterday...."

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Nanami Kento didn't immediately strike one as a scary dog. He was built, yes, but his suits hid it well, and he was only a little taller than average, and really quite mild, but--

-- oh.

The way his glares could frost a soul. The way other men bounced off him, a stone wall, when a shoulder 'accidentally' hit his. The way his eyes found wayward gazes like a sniper, with the dulcet loading of a bullet behind his sneer. The silent commanding respect. The dares that other men would not dare.

It was no wonder, then, how you and Kento, became you and Shoko and Kento, became you and Shoko and Maki and Nobara and Kento. While individually able to fight your own fights, feeling Kento's scary dog privilege melt threats with acid, was a burden blissfully relieved.

With Kento's protective Midas' touch, your daily lunches turned to gold, unsullied and unmolested. Still...he was there for the whole group.

So why, then, in such a large group, did you look up to find his gaze on you, and only you? How could his eyes caress without staring? It was sorcery, surely.

Kento sequestered you one day, throwing his crumbs to the ducks alongside yours, as the others chatted on the benches behind you. You looked up, shooting him a sideways smile, and wondering how you could ever be good enough for him. He spoke quietly.

"I always believed a dog to have just one owner."

You felt your stomach twist with insinuation. You laid the thread.

"...oh?"

"And while I'm happy to offer my privileges to the benefit of a group, I...would like to be in the position to make such a privilege exclusive."

You swallowed hard, looking sideways again with hope against hope against hope against--

"Are you...saying you'd like to be my scary dog?"

"Very, very much so."

[haven-gum-rockrose]

God and I thought I was exaggerating when I said my mental issues started at 14