#There could be worse ways to deal with soul crushing depression.

[spiro-nagnew]

Lmao at myself because BTS and BLACKPINK have been around for damn near 10 years and I never cared that much before but here I am almost 30 years old, in the middle of a divorce, entering my kpop obsession era.

That being said, does anybody have some good recommendations for me? Give me your favorite songs or performances from literally any kpop generation. Doesn't have to be BTS or Blackpink either. I have no genre preference. Girl groups, boy groups, solo artists. I'll give it all a listen at least once.

This is also a sort of warning for the people who currently follow me. Prepare for so much content that you'll question when you started following a fan account.

Yes this is a repost from my side blog because that one is strictly used for venting.

[angelicpoison12]

freeing Angel ღ ✧₊⁺

MFM/MFA, TOOTH ROTTING FLUFF, BONE CRUSHING ANGST

you want nothing more than to take Angel away from Valentino’s grasp. but you have to get through a few glued ties (and make some of your own) before restoring his dignity.

fluff, you make a deal with Alastor im sorry bro, a small argument, purpose avoidance, you kinda hurt Angel's feelings but its for the greater good i promise

— ❤︎︎ — 

there was always a perfect edge to your friendship with Angel. he never asked for anything less than what you could give him: a shoulder to cry on every once and a while, some fond memories to drown out the sorrows of his work, and maybe put up with some horrendous flirting.

but you didn't understand one thing. how could he continue to work for someone as ruthless, cruel, and cold like Valentino?

one night, you and Angel were laying in his bed, watching TV. you were curled up in his side, Fat Nuggets rolled on his back at Angel's feet. you were both in your cozy pajamas, and Angel was half asleep.

quietly, you asked, "Angel? are you still awake?" you watched as he let out a soft nod. you sighed, deciding that you might as well just get it out. ".. if Val is so terrible, why do you continue to work for him?" your question caught Angel off guard for a second. he was so used to bitching and moaning about Val for no reason; never giving context about his situation or the fucked-up relationship he had with his boss.

Angel swallowed, and he responded in a soft voice. "well, he's got me under contract, toots. there ain't much i can do."

your eyes widened at that. contract? like a deal? you looked at Angel, sitting up as you asked, "can't you just break it off?" "oh, i wish it was that easy, toots... no, i can't. unfortunately, i'm kinda stuck with him. i sold my soul, sugar." "but.. why?" "he promised me fame, a better life-he.." Angel sniffled, and you swore you could see his eyes grow glossy. "he promised me love."

you were quick to cup Angel's face, bringing him closer to you. you whispered, "Angel... that's not love. if his so-called 'love' made you feel the way you say it does, then Hell, i'd rather be hated." your words made Angel smile a little. he shrugged and said, "yeah, well, it's my fault anyways. you can't break off a contract, toots. so uh.. moral of the story-don't sell yer soul. you'll fuckin' regret it,"

deciding not to ask any more questions was the wise decision here. you didn't want to upset Angel any further, so you kept your mouth shut, and tried to fall asleep.

there had to be some way to get Angel his freedom back. there was no way he was stuck in Val's grasp forever, right? the thought alone was downright depressing. you vowed to yourself that you'd try and find a way to free him, even if it costed your own soul in the end.

— ❤︎︎ — 

the next morning after Charlie's exercise, you found yourself at Alastor's door. most of the time you avoided him, not wanting to accidentally upset him, or possibly something worse.

you knocked on the door, the heavy wood making soft echoes. you stood there, shaking before you heard the all-too familiar radio static call out, "come in, my dear!" slowly, you peaked your head in, looking around. there wasn't a bed in Alastor's room, just a deep red velvet loveseat couch, lots of books around, a desk with some radio equipment and what appeared to be old scripts, a coffee mug that read 'Oh Deer!', and some other miscellaneous items.

you saw Alastor. he was on the loveseat, reading a book, his cane by his leg. "come on in, dear! don't be shy, i won't bite you." Alastor said with a teasing voice. you smiled bashfully, coming in and closing the door behind your frame. you sat next to Alastor on the loveseat, making sure to still keep a distance since you knew he liked to refrain from physical contact if possible.

"now, what can i help you with, my dear?" Alastor asked, glancing at you with his usual yellow grin. you looked deadpan at him and said, "Alastor, can a contract be broken?" you heard some fizzle and pops in his voice, kind of mimicking a hum of thought. he tapped his finger on his chin before replying. "it depends, my dear. if there aren't any terms or agreements broken, then it's a little trickier to say whether or not it can be broken. why do you ask, my dear?" before you could open your mouth to respond, Alastor put his hand up, being a cocky son of a bitch and asking, "it's Angel, isn't it. you want to free him, don't you, my dear? now i must ask... why do you wish to go through such trouble for him? he's merely a friend."

Alastor's question made your jaw grow tight with anger. you took in a deep breath, trying to calm yourself. ".. yes, it's Angel. and i want to free him because i care about him. is that a good enough reason?" Alastor hummed again, his eyes lazy as he met your gaze. all he did was shrug and say, "i suppose it is." "great." "now, i would have to look at Angel's contract to know whether or not if it can be broken." "so how are you going to do that?" "i'll need your help."

Alastor's hand glowed a soft neon green. he then looked at you and asked in a sinistar voice, "let's make a deal, Y/N."

your eyes widened. quietly, you said in a near whisper, "you.. you want my soul, Al? but why?" Alastor chuckled, the static gone from his throat. "you're a pretty thing, dear. you have innocence and charm. say, once the contract is broken, you'll get your soul back. this is just in case if any... hm. if any 'funny business' strikes. understood?"

you thought about it for a second. i mean, it didn't seem too bad, right? but Angel's words echoed in your mind. "so uh.. moral of the story-don't sell yer soul. you'll fuckin' regret it," yet you still took Alastor's hand. "it's a deal."

stitches of green flooded Alastor's face, his smile almost wicked with how wide it was. a sea of neon green flashed across the room, and you swore you could hear screams of those who had wronged the Radio Demon from the past.

you nearly fell off of the loveseat, gasping and shaking. you glanced down, seeing glowing green chains connected to a collar around your neck. you quivered, glancing up at Alastor as you swallowed. you tried to calm yourself, your mind telling you how this was merely temporary. you'd be free once Angel was free, right?

right?

— ❤︎︎ — 

you thought the hardest part of this whole ordeal would be getting inside Valentino's club and getting access to the contract. in reality, the worst part was having to avoid Angel.

your movie nights with him evaporated like water, and whenever you saw each other in the bar after work, you'd flee like a stray cat. he tried to talk to you, only to be reduced to shitty small talk that left you both feeling empty. you couldn't go on like this, but Alastor promised you that it would be worth it.

eventually, you found yourself outside the big doors of Valentino's club. you looked around nervously, trying not to seem suspicious as you stepped inside.

you sighed as you caught a glance of the environment. there was hazy red smoke everywhere, sweaty bodies pressed together in lustful dances, but your eyes caught the moth man himself. he was sitting in a luxurious leather couch, smoking a cigarette, two imp girls sat at his sides.

quickly, you tried to scurry out of anyone's vision, but you saw Angel on the stage, and it made you stop to lose your breath. he looked so beautiful on the stage, and you wished to stay and see his performance. but you knew that you had work to do.

moving in a haste, you managed to sneak to Valentino's office, seizing the contract. you tried to rip the paper, only for your attempts to be futile. you growled, attempting to bite the contract, your teeth stinging. that wouldn't work either. you knew you had to be fast, and smart about this. you looked and scrambled, nearly tearing apart Valentino's office. you knew there had to be something here that could break the contract, right?

there was no fine print on the contract. only Valentino's ownership at the top, and Angel's name at the bottom. Anthony. his name was Anthony. fuck, you felt a tug at your heart and belly when you saw that. your eyes grew cloudy, but you blinked them away, not wanting to lose hope.

then you saw a bright red pen.

you grabbed the pen, making a large X over Angel's name, and the ink seeped into the golden paper, a heap of red smoke flowing out of the paper. you shrieked and threw the pen down, running out of the office, only to feel a chain at your neck.

this chain was red.

you choked and gasped, eyes wide. you were stuck in the red smoke, but it wasn't coming from the paper. "you fuckin' bitch.. thought you could escape my grasp, no?" you heard a deep, Latino voice chuckle. the chain whirled you around, and you were face-to-face with red stained teeth, a gold tooth glittering back at your wide, fearful eyes.

Valentino's brow quirked in amusement. "oh? you're not Angel.. hm, what are you doing here, little one? lost?" he asked, the chain releasing from your neck, allowing you to breathe. he didn't seem to see the ruined contract. god, his vision must've been so shit. using your most innocent, nonchalant voice, you said, "i was just looking for Angel, actually. i'm his friend." Valentino looked down at you, contemplating whether or not if you were telling the truth. all he did was say, "he's in his dressing room. it should be room 420, okay?" Valentino said, pressing a wet, red-soaked kiss to your cheek, making you grimace. you were quick to get away. when his office door was shut, you swore you could hear him shrieking in a mix of dismay and anger.

you knocked on Angel's door, rapid and without a pace. as soon as he opened the door, you grabbed him by the chest, dragging him out. "what-hey! what're you-!?" Angel squeaked, but you shushed him with a kiss. you felt him fight for a second, but the moment he realized it was you, he was kissing back like a starved man. his hands were all over you, your fists in his hair as you felt yourself lose control in his lips and fluff.

pulling away with a huff, your hands were clutched in his chest that was covered by his pink robe, his fingers in your hair. you managed to gasp out, "c'mon.. lets get you out of here." "but schnookums, i'm workin-" "not anymore." "but i-" "just shut up and let me explain when we're back at the hotel, okay?" Angel nodded, letting you lead the way.

— ❤︎︎ — 

"you need to explain what the fuck is goin' on right now, toots. you're scarin' me, and you're definitely gonna get me a beatin'." Angel's brash words made you wince a little. you sighed, feeling guilty. you were both in your room, sitting up, legs crossed in your bed. your eyes were soft as you looked at Angel, cupping his face. you hadn't even realized you were crying until his thumb reached to brush away the tears on your cheeks.

"i.. i'm so fucking sorry, Angel.. i should've told you what was going on." you admitted, sniffling. "shh, shh, toots.. whateva's going on, ya know you can tell me about it, right? i won't tell no one, i promise."

you swallowed, chuckling dryly before you warned, "you won't believe me." "try me, toots." you looked Angel in his eyes, brows raised as if questioning him. well, what was the worst thing he could do, right?

you brushed some hair out of his face, rubbing your thumb along his jawline as you said, "i freed you."

Angel stood up suddenly, upset as he said, "that ain't funny, toots. you tryna pull my dick or somethin'?" Angel asked, his tone laced with irritation, and a little bit of venom if you looked close enough. "Angel, i'm not lying-!" "bullshit! Val said that contract can't be broken-" "Angel! listen to me!" you nearly cried, your hands gripping his shoulders to look at you. both of your bodies were burning with distrust. after you both shared some deep breaths, you repeated, "i freed you. i ruined the contract with red ink.. you're free, Anthony."

hearing his real name, and not the one he used as a facade onstage, was what broke Angel. he began to quietly sob, his head falling into your shoulder. all you did was hold him close, wanting to make him feel safe in this moment.

you could still feel Alastor's invisible chain around your neck, but you decided, fuck it, it was worth it.

— ❤︎︎ — 

[mdzs-owns-my-ass-i-guess]

Rainstorm

This is for prompt 17 of @sasukimimochi 's fall writing/drawing challenge, "depression".

Warnings: angst, loneliness, depressive thoughts

Enjoy <3

Wei Wuxian stares out the opening of his cave, grey with rain and serpents of floating resentment. The diffuse peaks of the Burial Mounds seem faded through the thick rain, almost as if they're dissolving into the storm.

He thinks he sees somebody walking through the rain, a shadow in the way of the unforgiving storm.

But he blinks and they disappear, no evidence of their existence in the endless rain. Wei Wuxian sighs and tears his eyes from the sight.

Perhaps it was a trick of the Burial Mounds' spirits.

Or perhaps it's Wei Wuxian's vision that's becoming worse, blurry and unfocused unless he allows resentment to ameliorate it.

Regardless, it can't have been a person.

The Wens are all hidden in their shoddy huts, huddling together in makeshift blankets and the warmth of familiarity and love.

They've asked Wei Wuxian to come with - share in the warmth of their little fires, their few thick clothes and their freshly brewed soup.

But, though he appreciates them all, he cannot find it within himself to join them. Not today.

Today, everything hurts more than he is able or willing to hide it.

Today, he can't laugh off the the way his body throbs in painful protest with every move he makes, or how his breathing is too quick and raspy for the few steps he's taking carrying A-Yuan on his shoulders.

Today, his surgery scar pulls at his skin more than it usually does, as if it's trying to swallow him whole. As if the hollow left in its wake is opening up and wants to take all of him within.

And perhaps, only today, he will allow it.

Lan Zhan visited yesterday.

It was sunny when he was here, though it rarely is usually. Even the sun wants to see him, Wei Wuxian thinks, and the corners of his mouth raise momentarily before falling into the same expressionlessness Wei Wuxian has been sinking in ever since he woke up this morning.

But he inadvertedly clings onto the thought of Lan Zhan still. How lost and confused he was dealing with a crying A-Yuan, yet how ready he was to spoil him. How easily he adapted to being a parental figure, though it was temporary.

How he bought only dishes Wei Wuxian would like... how his eyes carried that mix of emotion Wei Wuxian could never understand.

And how regretful he looked leaving...

Wei Wuxian doesn't realize he'd been smiling until it fades off his lips. Of course he left, he had to.

Wei Wuxian could have never expected him to stay. He could never ask that of him. Of anyone.

But today everything hurts, and he wishes he had someone, anyone, hold him and tell him everything will be okay, even though it won't. Someone to give him a kiss and play with his hair like he's always read about in those corny books in the Yunmeng markets. Someone to just be there for him.

But it's cold, and it's raining, and there is nobody out here for him. There will never be. He will never get to know what any of those things feel like, and he will die like a dog in this wretched place.

He chose this, so he can't complain. He doesn't regret it either.

But today is different. Today he feels the weight of the world has dropped on his shoulders, crushing his fragile, emaciated body underneath its immense weight, breaking his soul and his spirit, with nobody to help him bear it.

But he finds himself seeking out that shadow from before in the storm outside, tearfully hoping it to be someone in white robes and eyes like the sun...

It keeps raining still.

[mrsmamathompson]

Unforgettable... || Self-para

Description: Ann's final moments with her husband and dealing with her own grief

Triggers: Death, hospitals, medical, funeral, depression.

Ann pressed her hand up against the glass as she watched the team hovering around her husband. The lines on the monitor began flatlining and beeping. Tears fell from Ann’s eyes, barely able to see from the blurring of her tears she turned away momentarily. The beeping stopped and when she turned back around she saw her husband reaching out to her, the doctor nodding she rushed into the room, taking up his hand and holding it close to her. “I love you, Annie.” It was the final words before the monitors began beeping again. “I’m here, go easy. I love you too, I always will.” This time they didn’t try stopping them, he was gone. 

The feel of her husband's hand going limp and slipping out of hers was a feeling Ann would never be able to stop feeling. She swallowed down a scream of a sob that was building up in the back of her throat, knowing that was it, it was much more than Ann ever thought she could bear. The weight of the world felt like it was crushing her soul. All she wanted was to throw herself onto the bed beside him, to throw herself at the ground in his stead and take his place. 

Before she could even think of doing those things she was being escorted away from his room and into a family lounge where she could make arrangements and calls. She called her husband's family first and their own children, and then her own siblings, nieces, the family that was necessary to know. Then she called her friends, letting them know what had happened, and finally, she sat in silence, not knowing where to go, what to do. She didn’t know how to approach this situation. They had made arrangements already, so she rang the funeral home and began the process. 

3 DAYS LATER

The funeral was horrific, she didn’t think she could ever feel worse than when he passed but here she was having to watch their life fly by and it was never enough to explain where their life had gone, how wonderful of a husband he really was to her. Nothing would ever be enough to ever make people understand how much of her anchor her husband was. Then it was her turn, her turn to sum up her husband in a five-minute speech, to explain how much of a wonderful person she had lived with for this long. How could she?

Ann felt the pain in her chest as she rose up and walked to the front, she stumbled over her words as she spoke. Her papers were mixed up, and she felt like she wasn’t getting out the right words, it wasn’t until her children came up, placing their hands on her back and giving her the support to make it through her speech. Not a little piece of the speech would ever feel like enough to explain how much he did for her and she hated that she couldn’t get it out.

The support was overwhelming, she didn’t know that there were even that many people they knew, but seeing the turnout really showed her just how many people were there for support and love and would always be here when she really needed them.

A FEW DAYS LATER

Ann was at home now, she had let everyone know that she was just going to go off grid for a little while and relax, and try and find peace with the way things had gone. There wasn’t a single moment when the world felt like it wasn’t closing in on her. The silence in her home was so deafening it was like no one was there and all she could do was try to shout into the void, unfortunately, the void didn’t like to answer her.

Ann spent a lot of time in bed, just trying to remember how to be a human. The grief had poured its way into every little piece of her body and mind. She felt empty, her home felt empty, and although she tried her best there was nothing that she could do in reality to find her footing. All that could be done was for her to let the grief wash through her and try and hold on as it took her.

“Unforgettable, that’s what you are…” Ann sighed softly as the music played, allowing tears to leak from her eyes as she thought about her husband, just how much she missed him, and how much she wished he had been here to dry her tears and remind her that he wasn’t far away. As quickly as she had the thought, she felt her tears drying up and the music getting a touch louder. He would always listen to this song a little louder than she liked, and in recent years, she really had assumed that he did it just to drive her batty. “I love you too.” She whispered into the night.

A FEW WEEKS LATER

Ann had been spending so much time lately just trying to get everything around the home in a normal state, she didn’t realise just how much of their finances and taxes that her husband had been keeping up with. It was a little overwhelming to realise that she needed to do so much and she didn’t have his support to know how to do these things.

Finally, she felt like she had gotten a good amount of the work done, and she could see a clear path ahead of her. She could see the way her husband did everything and suddenly the path wasn’t as muddy. She actually began putting things together and when she sealed the envelope on the last item she needed to work with a satisfied smile came over her face.

She put the old vinyl record on, Nat King Cole beginning up. “Unforgettable…” This time she allowed herself a moment to dance, using their hardwood floors in such a familiar dance floor, moving in the steps she and her husband had danced so many times before. For a moment she could swear she felt his arms around her again, her head lulling forward slightly to rest on her husbands chest, and she could hear those same words. “I love you, Annie.”

[quodekash]

RGJFDNLGEJKSGJEKSNDGKJBRDSKJGB OS2 MSP TIME OS2 MSP TIME OS2 MSP TIME OS2 MSP TIME HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP HELP I MIGHT DIE

i need to take a break before i start because holy hell idk if im gonna make it

HOLY HELLLL

SOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWINSOUNDWIN GUYS SOUNDWIN ARE ON MY SCREEN FOR THE FIRST TIME SINCE FEBRUARY HOW THE HELL DO I DEAL WITH THIS SOMEONE HELP

"welcome to my school president in the multiverse of cuteness" I SWEAR, IS THAT TITLE A PARODY OF MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS? PLEASE TELL ME ITS MAKING FUN OF MULTIVERSE OF MADNESS

AAAAAAAAAAAA TINN HELLO TINN HELLO HELLO

THEYRE EVEN IN EACH OTHER'S ROOMSSSSSSS

i love how gun sleeps on a double bed but he sleeps right in the middle with the other pillow smushed haphazardly to the side

GJKREDGF THE EXACT PARALLELS I LOVE THIS

THIS IS LIKE EXACTLY GUN'S WARM UP SPEECH

PROBABLY WORD-FOR-WORD

i smell merch

why is it outside in this universe

GIUERBGUBREOGB

SOUND IS THERE

WIN ISNT PART OF THE BAND YET

SOUND IS THERE

AND TIW IS THERE

HELLO TIW

WE ARE FINALLY TAKING ADVANTAGE OF TIW'S INCREDIBLE RANGE OF SKILLS

AND YO WITH PHAT'S GLASSES?????

GNEJRKSDBG

sound with the game is just making me think of james from futs, which, no, i have not yet seen, but i do know some things

wait or is satang's character koh

i cant remember

and no, i have not yet moved on from this one frame, just let me appreciate it for a little bit longer

i want this chair

but also i dont

it would be fun to curl up in like a weirdly shaped cat

i wish i could see all these posters in full

HOLY CHINZHILLA SHRINE BUT LION

i see weve already got the soundwin red/yellow agenda going on (@ashedddaisy please see this)

genuine question tho, whose boxing gloves are those???

i see weve got tiwpor's pink and blue already very present

seeing phat without glasses is very strange

okay, i think im good, im done appreciating this one frame. time to move on and continue with the actual episode

GUYS I LOVE TIW SO MUCH

IGERIGDBJERB I DIDNT PROCESS THAT

WE USED TO GET WIN/YO FRIENDSHIP

BUT NOW ITS SOUND/PHAT FRIENDSHIP

GEIHRKBGRUEJKBGKRE

i freaking love sound so much

HELL YES, THE DRAMATIC MUSIC AND THE STARTING INTO THE DISTANCE AND THE FIST IN THE AIR AND THE DRAMATIC STATEMENT, I LOVE WHEN THIS HAPPENS AND TINN DOING IT MAKES ME SO HAPPY

GIMMMM

pls this was so funny for some reason

ratchanee. thats so strange to me. is she not just gim.

"keep it down! her son is staring at you!" yeah, because he's in love with him

DAMN, FOURTH REALLY PERFECTED THE 'staring at your crush but you really just look like a serial killer' LOOK

GIUESBG THESE LINES BUT CHANGED FOR TINN IM DYING

"his skin is fairer. hes even taller than me now. he still has that pair of bunny teeth. but he's a lot cuter!" FOURTH'S VOICE IN THIS HRBGHRBG

PORGUN FRIENDSHIP PORGUN FRIENDSHIP PORGUN FRIENDSHIP (ft sounds face in the foreground bc i had to)

PLS THIS IS SO FUNNY

I GASPED

THEY SPED THROUGH THAT QUICKLY

ALSO A FEW THINGS TO MENTION ALREADY:

1. why he look so depressed. you need a hug winny pooh?

2. hes wearing the exact shade of purple that sound often wears. so thats pretty interesting.

PLS I LOVE THEM ALL SO MUCH

mark, i-

HELL YEAH HES FAMOUS AS WINNIE THE POOH, A BASSIST

HELL YES

also i love yo at the bottom there, desperately clinging to the wall

HE'S CROSS-EYED, WHY IS HE CROSSEYED IN THIS SHOT

IT GOT WORSE

"huh? why me?" "the chemistry between you two is just right" HELP

this one image brings so much more dopamine to my soul than i can possibly express

GBERKHJBGREBLBERIEKGJRBGJSG

THE SLAM AGAINST A WALL but not in a sexy way BUT REVERSED HELL YES I LOVE THEM

MY RIVALS TO LOVERS BOIIIIISSSS

I LOVE THEM

IM GONNA GO FERAL

because we need a 12 episode plot to progress in 2 episodes, sound

THE ROAR

TINN'S LITTLE ROAR

EGHRKDBJ

ah shoot i ran out of images again (this has to stop happening)

ill make a second post and then post both (or possibly all, i may need more than two for this lol) at the same time

[witchfirst]

emilija has always maintained a very strong maternal instinct, ever since she was a child herself she looked after all of the little ones who resided in her village: taking it upon herself to care for them as if they were her own. when she was resurrected three hundred years after her death and subsequently turned into a hybrid, em wasn't sure if her newfound vampirism would drastically alter her personality as it had the mikaelsons since she had last seen them. she craved blood and felt extremely guilty but understood that it was her burden to bear. it took emilija a long time to learn control but she still retained a maternal instinct. she often volunteered in her spare time to help out homeless children, took in plenty of foster children and helped shape them over the centuries: albeit none of them ever found out about her vampirism. em had a void inside of her from never having a biological child of her own. however, out of all the little ones she cared for, there was only one who truly spoke to her soul. marcel gerard was her adoptive son with klaus and she never loved anyone quite like him. he was her little boy, a shining light of joy who radiated her days with a brightness she never knew she needed.

over the years of marcel growing up, emilija did her best to care and provide for him and when he called her 'mama' for the first time: she burst into tears. they were living in a time where slavery was rife and racism was witnessed in every corner. taking marcel in and giving him the luxury that his white peers also shared gave emilija a sense of joy as she too experienced the prejudice and racism that followed like a looming enemy. she had a personal, first-hand experience with everything that her son had to deal with in his upbringing, whereas klaus and the other mikaelsons could sympathize but not truly understand. emilija poured her heart and soul into shaping marcel into the brilliant young man he was. she helped him free slaves from his biological father's grasp and was there when he was shot. klaus then turned marcel into a vampire but not before in a fit of rage, emilija murdered the governor.

over the years she helped him settle into the role of a vampire and was supportive of every choice he made, she did her best to honour his wishes and respect him to make his own decisions. even when klaus did not agree, she did her best to rein him in and allow their son to make his way in the world. fighting in world war i was an example. however, emilija was oblivious to how deeply marcel loved rebekah and was unaware that they conspired to bring mikael to new orleans. she understood they loved one another but to the extent that they would betray her and klaus like that? never. emilija did not recover from marcel's supposed death and fell into a depression over the course of the century. she stayed with klaus for some time but once again they had their on and off again whirlwind. emilija grieved marcel for the longest she had ever grieved anybody. he was her baby, her most beloved. when she returned to new orleans with the originals upon news of hayley's pregnancy, emilija was shocked to see that he had been alive the whole time.

this revelation destroyed her to the core and completely changed her perception of her son and her trust in him. if he could betray them so deeply, to allow them to mourn him, to be bereaved so strongly and still allow them to believe that he was no longer alive? it was soul crushing. emilija was despondent for months and it was even worse with the fact that klaus bore a child naturally and she was not the mother. everything was extremely overwhelming and em had multiple mental breakdowns over this period. she was extremely volatile and dangerous to be around, a vast contrast to the happy and level-headed woman she usually was. even throughout the years emilija still cannot look marcel in the eyes, he's still her baby but the betrayal shook her to a level she could not cope with.

[absentlyabbie]

can cosign, as someone who fucked all of this up in my 20s living in serious poverty with undiagnosed and untreated depression and trauma and chronic illness, working a physically demanding and soul-crushing retail job for a miserly and pitiless corporation for minimum wage under a string of abusive managers.

i took 1-2 thousand milligrams of ibuprofen almost daily, sometimes more than once a day, frequently without food because honestly i could barely afford to eat.

i can't confirm for you exactly what damage it did to me because i sure as fuck couldn't afford healthcare, but i can tell you it made my already miserable digestive problems worse, gave me terrible stomach aches and cramps and nausea and etc. but hey it mitigated the headaches and the intense neck pain from the drag of my overfilled work apron and eased the constant ache of my concrete-floor-destroyed knees, and again, i couldn't afford healthcare of any kind.

so i made this terrible choice with ibuprofen, uneducated and unaware, for years. and by god did i pay for it the whole time and it sucked the entire time too.

when i finally learned that at least some of the problems i was dealing with every day were either caused by or exacerbated by the absurd overuse of ibuprofen i relied on to function, i cut way the hell back. it meant being in more pain for a while because i had to get my body adjusted to much smaller and less frequent doses of painkiller, but it was absolutely good for me in the long run.

now i make sure to only take ibuprofen when i definitely can't handle the pain without medication, i go with the smallest dose possible for the amount of pain i'm in, and i never, ever take it without food in my belly. (it needs something other than my stomach lining to chew on.)

taking less ibuprofen and in the correct way didn't fix me the same way that taking a truly ridiculous amount of ibuprofen daily didn't fix me, but it sure did unfuck some of the severity of all the fuckedup i've got going on.

ibuprofen responsibly, babes.

Every time I see another ibuprofen post on this site I'm like STOP

STOP

Stop.

Take that after a meal. Take it with a big glass of water. Don't take it on an empty stomach EVER. Don't take it with alcohol. You will destroy your stomach. You will end up with an ulcer. You will vomit blood. I'm not exaggerating.

Yes, you. Yes, it will happen to cute little you. With your cute little bottle of miracles. Ibuprofen really does that to your body.

Love, an adult person over 35 who can't take NSAIDs anymore

[halfgoosehalfmoose]

Too late for therapy

Since after the lockdown I have felt unbelievably low at times. That was right when I started high school, and I remember it got to the point I struggled with suicidal ideation. There were 3 different times where I picked up a pen and paper with the full intent of writing a suicide note but couldn't even think of what to write because I didn't quite understand these emotions myself. But I remember stop studying or not doing homework when I was feeling down not because I thought I needed a break, but because I kept thinking "why bother with this now when you may not even make it past 18". I was stressing and struggling for the sake of a future I might not even have. I did not plan or think about the future, which I am paying for now, because in my head my biggest concern was just not killing myself.

I never learned how to talk about my emotions seriously, I never told anything to anyone. I was going through the absolute hardest most soul-crushing exhausting period of my life but all by myself. It got a lot worse on my last years of highschool, because academic pressure increased and problems with my friends and myself showed up. It felt like powering through a bush of barbed wire that kept getting denser and denser, but not knowing why or if it would even end. Graduation felt so freeing. I realized how much school was weighing me down and I started to actually feel hopeful about university.

That is when I approached my father about therapy. I wanted to start from scratch in uni, put all that struggle behind and somehow become better. But I feel he didn't really take my request seriously. He kept stalling and I had to remind him of what I asked. I know we can afford it because we are well off financially and we have already spent a lot of money in personal requests. It felt frustrating because I needed so much time to gather courage to ask him, I wanted to since I started feeling suicidal and it was like it amounted to nothing.

Now I moved to Germany to try uni here and I am feeling so many things, but mos of them are rooted in how much I'm liking it. It has been more than 3 months and I don't miss my parents. I am not particularly sad over not having friends here, and I never remember to call family or friends with updates. I don't feel there was an adapting period where I felt I didn't belong. There is the matter of the language, as I am still learning German, but it is not affecting me much. I was scared at first because I always heard about how sad and depressing it is, how rude people are, but that was not my impression at all. For sure it is very different from home but not at all as I was expecting(still waiting for winter to fully judge though).

I feel like a bad friend and bad daughter. I left my parents alone. My sister already left too and neither is married or has a partner. I was sad for so long thinking my friends didn't value me but now I don't know how to talk to them.

On the other hand, I'm paying for not thinking about the future. I thought I could easily study biology with my diploma but i didnt take the subjects i had to take so now I need at least 1 year to study for germany's university entrance exam and it will probably make me miss the applicationi deadline meaning I will have to wait another year, making me 3 years late to start university and that is if I go well on the test. I feel like I am wasting so much money since the Euro value keeps rising and my parents are paying all my expenses and I cant even work even if i wanted to.

There are so many things bottled up for so long that I want to deal with and talk to a therapist about but they are in the past. I dont know if it would even do any good bringing them up or just letting them stay behind. I dont even know how to start looking for a therapist and I know it can be expensive and wait time can be long. I feel like I am failing in every way possible.

[subzeroiceskater]

;_;

I think some of my previous posts might give the impression that I don’t like my RR present. It’s not that.

This year, I got to meet one of my favorite bands. I didn’t expect to, I went in just wanting to buy one of their shirts, and even then I was expecting that to fall through. Then I not only got to see them, but I spoke with the lead singer and even got to eat lunch with them. I wasn’t supposed to but the lead singer invited me up. It was the high point of the year to me, and easily one of the best moments of my life. 

I was severely depressed the weeks after that.

This is the exact situation but like with Mega Man gift stuff. Made worse by I’m still not over meeting the band and how their songs are pretty embedded in my fanon. I went in just wanting a picture of Friska, but I was half-expecting it to fall through. Then I got something I’ve always wanted. I haven’t even read it but knowing it exists is enough. Except. It’s like, how there were so many questions and comments I could have asked and told the band but now I’ll never have the opportunity ever again. I basically blew a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. I experienced a good thing but it could have been a lot better if I had just less of a fuckup and believed good things could happen. 

Now I’m always gonna be extra sad when I hear Sponge Cola songs or look at my fan character.

I had the opportunity to ask his favorite MM character and I never did.

I’m always anxious when dealing with some people because I go on the defensive and assume they’d rather not deal with someone like me. If I don’t exist to them then I’ll hurt.

I still get apprehensive every time I have to speak to Miyabi and he’s basically just a guy who wants to do stuff for the MM community. I only managed to deal with that by wrapping on several levels of irony and defensive humor. My apprehension just grows with more intense personalities than his. Probably because I can be an intense and moody person. I can easily set off other people so it’s better if I don’t cause more problems.

If that anxiety seems to be so bad then why join something like an art exchange? Because most of the time, I do okay. I wanna art trade. I wanna see Tundra art because I love Tundra art. I like feeling that I can draw something for someone, too. Sometimes, there’s something I want badly enough to get over it like joining a contest because I want Tundra stories or maybe asking for scans or something else. It's an unfair generalization but I tend to assume stuff based on artstyle–like, oh, this person will want nothing to do with me. A very polished style tends to have a very “polished” person (smoothed/hardened by years of dealing with other people through the years)  so would not have time for the nonsense of someone as messy as me.

So I’m not a total wreck, I can handle one of these on a good day. It’s just the whammy of all these combinations is driving me crazy. Imagine the frenetic typic of hours and the soul crushing realization that it was too late. Like, you could have avoided all these if you hadn’t been the mess of a person you are and are able to check messages and emails like a normal person, instead of constantly hiding away, because, well, it’s not like anyone is gonna send you anything. If I had never met SC, then I would never have experienced being really happy but I’d still be able to listen to the songs without sadness. If I hadn’t gotten a comic with Tundra & Café, I never would have felt the happiness if someone actually drew it but then I wouldn’t feel a little sad looking at her pictures. Would that have been worth it? 

It really is the most extreme spectrum of emotions because I felt it all–all these feelings churning. Nothing can match the meeting with the band because they’re tied to feelings outside of fandom–but I made Café so in a specific, very personal way, I feel the pinprick of emotions from getting the gift to be a lot sharper. My feelings from the band very much feeds into my feelings of my fave characters (Tundra) and fan ones. Just the perfect storm of intense emotions. I’m dealing with it. 

And if I’m really being honest, there’s a part of me that’s very resentful and intensely  jealous because… I’ll promise to admit it in a week. I still need to finish my own work. I can’t read my own gift otherwise. I’ve given up trying to rush especially with this whole thing so I’d rather take the penalty than end up with something I’m more unhappy with. I just needed to sort my feelings out more. 

I’m still happy I got to meet Sponge Cola and received a comic.

[barbiewritesstuff]

Chapter 5: Lost and Found

-- I don't know what I'm doing but I know I have never written something so easily in my life... --

Taglist:

@luckyladycreator2

@rachelccollier

Rooster's eye had required ice and by morning had turned a lovely shade of plum. It throbbed and stung, and the swelling made it hard to see. 

Hangman woke up groggy and with a splitting headache to find Rooster looking at Hangman from his desk chair. He was wearing his regular civillian clothes, a hawaiian shirt, a wifebeater underneath and some shorts. His sun glasses rested on the bridge of his nose. 

"Rise and shine Jackass." Rooster told him, grabbing his arm and pulling him to a seat. Hangman's entire body hurt. 

"You gave me a nice shiner last night. Now, we're going to make a bargain, I don't tell on Cyclone that you injured one of his best pilots and you tell me what the fuck is going on with you and the rookie and what you're going to do about it. Deal? Deal."

Hangman groaned. 

"Like I told Penny, we dated, I cheated, we broke up, I regret it." 

"Nice to know you've always been an ass, Hangman." They both chuckled. "But not getting over a crush doesn't put you in tge state you're in currently, buddy. So clearly that's not all of it."

Hangman agreed, there was more. 

There were the flings they had before the 4rth of July party, the no strings attached, the pregnancy scares, the midnight phone calls when Y/n shitty car broke down by the roadside and she needed someone to pick her up, and even the sobbing call he got when her grandmother died, and then, there was the big one. The time he called Y/n when he applied to Top Gun and needed reassurance that he was good enough. The first - and last - time he had ever expressed doubts in his abilities. 

But Hangman also agreed that that didn't explain why he felt the way he felt, why he came undone whenever she spoke to him, why he almost came whenever she touched him, why he could not stop thinking about her. 

He shrugged at Rooster "Don't know man, that's all there is"

"Then, you're worse off then I thought, dude. So, what're you going to do about it"

"Fuck all"

"Wrong answer. You are going to see Rookie, you will apologise and you will ask her out. Then, do us all a favour and fuck this tension out so y'all can stop the public foreplay, yeah?"

Hangman nodded. It was a better plan than anything he'd ever be able to come up with. He stood, and swayed as his eyes saw stars. Rooster held his arm until he was stable and then left when Hangman was ready for a shower. 

Training was okay. His team lost, but he flew the best he'd flown in a while. His confidence up and his arrogant smile out, he almost felt normal. 

He also had to admit that having a plan was making him feel better. As much as he hated admitting it, Hangman was very type A. He like things neat, in designated boxes, colourcoded and clear. He like spreadsheets and maths. His life was like too, college friends and army friends stayed away, hobbies and work didn't touch and whatever he did, he did well. He scored top of his class in everything, regardless of whatever the class was.

The only notable exception was Y/n and their relationship. She was everything collided. The relationship was messy, she was both a vestige of his path and one of his present and Hangman had to admit that the general untidiness of it all also made him panic. He didn't like that she knew him. 

She knew what he looked like, what he thought of, what he believed in. She knew his body and his soul.

She'd changed so much that it felt like he'd lost his leverage. He couldn't be snarky and cocky because she could still remember the old him who had panic attacks before exams or the old him who had been on anti-depressants for two years. Or the old him who handmade her her birthday cakes.

But he couldn't be nice either, because he'd broken her heart and being nice might feel like pouring salt in an open wound.

The Hard Deck was crowded as it always was on Friday nights. Jake wasn't drinking, and he noticed that Y/n wasn't either. She was talking to Phoenix but stopped when she saw him. She made a thumbs up gesture and turned it upside down as a question. He replied with a thumbs up. She smiled and his heart sommersaulted.

Y/n and Phoenix's conversation died down and he made his way towards her. 

"Can I have a word?" He asked and she lead him to the empty deck. The air was cool and crisp as the sun set. In the pink light of the sky Y/n looked even nicer. 

"I just wanted to say I'm sorry." 

"Don't worry, I didn't mind driving you back."

" No, no, not about that. I mean I am sorry for being such a jackass to you and cheating and you know…" 

"I knew what I was getting into. You didn't exactly have a stellar reputation back then either." She chuckled "I think I forgive you."

"You think you forgive me" 

" I mean, as strange as it is, I don't think I ever  hated you for it. I mean it hurt ajd you broke my heart, but I was a bitch back then. I'd like to think I've changed." She sipped her coke "Would you believe it, I'm actually a nice person" 

They laughed.

"Well, if you'd allow me, I'd like to get to know the new you." He could see the hesitation on her face, "We could take it slow. We could start from scratch. Just go on a couple of dates, to see where things go."

He had leaned close to her, their foreheads were touching. His hand was gently grazing hers and it sent tingels up her spine. She whispered her reply

"I don't know Jake, I don't think I'm ready yet." 

And then, to make things worse, they kissed. It was a slow, gentle kiss. Jake was barely touching her and it took all of her power and self-control not to pull him closer and just allow herself to be consumed by him. They paused to exchange breathy incomprehensible words, and kept on kissing until they were interrupted by a group of loud, unsuspecting pilots. 

They made their way back inside. No one seemed to have noticed anything and Y/n was thankful for that. 

The air felt very hot on her skin, her cheeks were red and the space between her thighs was on fire. That kiss had reawakened something inside of her and before they had even made it to the pool table, she turned around to face Hangman. She stood on tip toes and whispered something in his ear.

" Want to make a really stupid decision?" 

He was on fire too. A special ever burning fire that only she could put out. He nodded so fast he gave himself a headache. 

They were barely out of the bar before Jake kissed her again. He was swaying, drunk on love and on her presence. If he'd had his way, he'd be undressing her in the middle of the Hard Deck's parking lot, but they said "mKing a really stupid decision" and not "making a carreer ending move" so he dragged her to his car and hurriedly put his keys in the ignition. He turned it, the car stalled. He turned it again and it stalled again, they both laughed but the third turn of the key worked and the car roared to life. 

Hangman sped to his dorm room and once inside they kissed again. The same soft and gentle, almost ticklish kisses as before, he held her this time. And once the desire for something more than kisses overcame him, he trailed the kisses down to her neck where he kissed and licked the skin until she could no longer take it and hurried to remove her shirt and bra. Hangman kissed the red mark in her skin, where the bra strap had dug into her skin. 

"I can't do this." He whispered

"What's the matter ?"

"I am in love with you, Y/n. I can't do casual when I'm with you. We've done it before and it hurt every time I had to let you go. As much as I like sex with you babe, I can't just have sex. I need you, all of you. So I'm sorry, but I can't do this." He whispered.

Y/n nodded. Hangman helped her put on her bra and her shirt, and then watched her leave with tears streaming down her face.

[hellonexrth]

The pair were equal in the bitter feelings that threatened to overcome them. Wren had never been good at dealing with grief, had never figured out how to hold it in her chest without anger, humor, and alcohol. Feelings in general, had never really been her strong suit, but at least with Max by her side, she had a better understanding of how to handle herself. His death, it had been the first big traumatic event in her life, and she knew there were people who dealt with worse, but she still couldn't manage to keep her head above water after this one, great awful thing.

At least knowing that another member of the pack dealt with similar feelings. Of feeling like no matter how hard they tried, the steps they took were never in the right direction. "I try to dodge mine, but they always seem to get the best of me," she joked. "But never in the right way, never in the way that people understand. Just anger and soul-crushing depression. It's like... if you don't cry, people assume you aren't hurting."

If only Max was alive. That would have fixed everything for her too. "I'm sure that came as a shock. I don't know what I'd do if Max showed up on my doorstep." Probably freak out, seeing as she'd seen his body, seen him lowered into a grave. "I'm glad you were able to figure it out, though. Gives me hope. Maybe some day, I can too." She reached out and took another shot off the bar, staring down into it. "I think if I could turn it off, I'm not sure I'd ever come back."

every second with her humanity back did she ache for it to disappear. it wasn't like the memories had been gone during that time ingrid was away. they just hadn't had anything attached to them. while they'd replayed in her mind at times, it was somehow detached. now she wasn't so lucky. with each time the memories would flash without permission, her feelings would be so intense she could physically feel it. her breath catching, heart racing, head pounding. the tribrid had begrudgingly accepted that avoiding wasn't an option anymore, so suffer she would.

" oh they're fucking awful, " she agrees with an exasperated laugh before downing her last shot. " i've been dodging my feelings since i was thirteen years old and let me tell you, it's finally starting to sink in that it isn't the fix. " her words are laced with the bitterness that she felt. her actions would haunt her for eternity, having to live with every fucked up thing she'd done in her avoidance. " they're a really good moral compass though. "

truthfully her humanity coming back hadn't been of her own volition. " it was a mix of things, " she starts with the intention of that being all she'd say. then she has a need to get the story off her chest. if it had been anyone else, maybe her mouth would have stayed shut. wren made her feel a level of comfortability that not many others did. " the person i killed, he's actually alive. well, not alive. undead. i didn't know that. " that certainly was the first crack in her hardened exterior.

she swallows thickly before continuing, " what took it over the edge though ? someone sorta forced me to see everything i'd done. and it kinda felt like a dam broke. like it switched back on its own. " if it had been up to ingrid she would have lived an eternity devoid of the emotions that had tortured her her entire life. the entire time she spoke, ingrid's gaze never met wren's. shame causing her to look only at the wood of the bar before her. " real humbling i'll tell ya, " a forced laugh falling from her. " talk about the wrong thing ? i've done plenty of wrong things. "

[sepublic]

Marcy’s Condition

           I’m scared for Marcy. Seeing her so wounded, I just-

           I really am afraid. Afraid that she’s going to need not just emotional and mental therapy, but physical therapy as well… Which, we don’t know how successful Andrias’ procedure is going to be, but still. It really sucks and haunts me how Sasha has that scar on her face, as a permanent reminder of what happened in Amphibia, of Reunion…

           But not to compare pain, but Marcy is somehow even worse- Because she might just have that ENTIRE gaping scar on her chest and back, and… Remembering how she almost died, how she THOUGHT she died. The pain, the unimaginable horror and agony at being impaled. The reminder of everything that happened in True Colors, the pain and desperation, the betrayal… I can legit seeing it become an actual, medical trigger for Marcy. Sasha at least managed to cope with the scar on her face, good for her…!

           But Marcy… I can easily see this breaking her. And it just leads to her always trying to cover up that scar and not look at it, which, is easy because she can accomplish that with any regular shirt, but still… It’s just the entire concept of bodily autonomy being violated, of being marked like that, and it worsens with the idea of Andrias turning Marcy into a cyborg, and/or his master possessing her. To already have her body so grievously hurt and wounded, to then be operated on like a test subject, to be controlled and puppeted with this entity inside her… It genuinely sickens me.

           This girl suffered, and there’s always that permanent, visual reminder of it. At least with Sasha, you can argue how she brought it on herself, as a reminder of how she tried to kill Anne’s surrogate father and why this mistake backfired; It’s a learning experience, although trauma is trauma of course, so that is to be said VERY lightly and carefully. It’s not like Anne MEANT to scar Sasha; But Marcy… Marcy didn’t deserve that. She didn’t deserve to be impaled by someone she trusted, who took advantage of and manipulated her… 

          She was afraid of confiding her fears in with Anne and Sasha, and she found that in Andrias; And now, she’s likely to be even MORE terrified of opening up because of this! Especially with how Andrias has the AUDACITY to literally gaslight Marcy in her final moments, as she realizes she’s going to die and is dead, by saying “Look what you’ve made me do.” As if he hasn’t emotionally manipulated her enough, to imply Marcy’s violent death is all her fault, and/or that of the friends she loves and didn’t want to lose, was so afraid of being rejected by. Because I guess her soul hadn’t been crushed enough!

           Not to mention… Getting impaled like that, having a burning blade through your spine… I’m just really afraid that when this is all over, IF Marcy gets to recover and heal; She might be paralyzed. She might be plagued with physical health issues for the rest of her life, because she’s missing an entire chunk of her spine; And, hopefully Andrias’ procedure can give Marcy’s body a full recovery… Ideal scenario, no scar, even! 

          But I can’t help but feel like being possessed by Andrias’ master, THAT could leave its own physical toll on Marcy’s poor body, and it just agonizes me to see this girl be violated like that, emotionally and physically. It’s depressing how Marcy briefly treats others more like NPCs in her game than people, because now SHE’s being objectified, losing her agency, in a way that is so much worse and totally undeserved.

           Marcy doesn’t deserve to have to live with physical health issues for the rest of her life, for what happened; She’s a kid. She doesn’t deserve to be plagued with echoes of pain and physical trauma that constantly remind her of what happened, even when she’s not directly looking at the visual mark it left behind. And I’m just scared that when this is all over… I can see Marcy being bedridden, being in ACTUAL medical therapy, because I have a hard time imagining her being able to function without that.

           What if she becomes physically sick and ill, still feeling the repercussions of her wound or possession or being modified against her will? I don’t want to imagine Marcy looking at prosthetics that Andriasgave her, for the rest of her life. There’s nothing wrong with needing physical aid, or medicine, or therapy to get by in life; But for Marcy, it could serve as a reminder of issues that came as a direct, unfair, result of her time in Amphibia; A loss of carefree health she once had… And she doesn’t deserve to be haunted like that.

          I don’t want Marcy to be plagued by health issues, she’s gone through ENOUGH already, having the rest of Marcy’s life be permanently riddled and restrained because of her wound, it just… It genuinely leaves me in anguish. I don’t want to see Marcy in a wheelchair, as a permanent, haunting reminder that is intertwined in every aspect of her life, of what happened… A reminder she literally can’t escape because it’s her own body, and it’ll affect just about every breathing moment for her.

           I don’t want to see Marcy struggle to breathe from damaged lungs. Or have her struggle with meds –I know that feeling- or constantly need a device for physical aid, something to be hooked up to often. I don’t want to imagine Marcy sometimes lying in bed at night, placing her hand over her chest, so she can feel her heart beating, to relieve and reassure herself that she’s still alive. Not after feeling her heart stop beating when she was first impaled… She’s so young, she has her whole life ahead of her, or should, and she had that violently ripped away from her, barely got to live with that kind of normal life before it was gone for good. She deserves to just breathe, carefree, and feel the sunlight on her face and enjoy life.

           As a disclaimer, I don’t want to patronize people with disabilities or injuries. I don’t want to turn physical conditions into some inescapable tragedy that can’t be moved past, can’t be healed from; There are so many people who have managed to adapt and continue living as always. I’m sorry if I did that… But Marcy’s whole condition could be a brutal reminder of what happened to her, of that horrible thing that wracked not just her heart but her entire body. She shouldn’t have to suffer for that, for the rest of her life…

           And I’m terrified for her mental health. Of her suffering from actual PTSD, being triggered by things that remind her of that moment. Of having nightmares and waking up in a cold sweat, heart racing, as she reaches out for Anne or Sasha for comfort. I can’t handle that thought, the idea of a kid in that sort of pain… It’s so unfair and she doesn’t deserve it. I can genuinely, plausibly see Marcy becoming depressed, becoming somber and morose for a long while, before she can finally heal and become happy and excited and curious in things that open way she does; And GOD, I’d be inconsolable if she felt suicidal, because how do you move on from that? Thinking her life wasn’t worth it without Anne or Sasha, that she literally can’t handle it… Combined with the possibility of abuse in more ways than one from her parents, how THEY won’t help, if they’re even allowed near Marcy after all this.

           Does Marcy have anyone to even turn to when it all ends? I hope she does. I can only imagine her being constantly terrified of being alone, and needing company just to get by… She really deserves a therapy pet after all this, maybe Joe Sparrow could help. It just… It just sounds like Marcy’s whole life has been wracked with this kind of pain, and I don’t want to her pain get any worse, to see it get physically chronic. Any kind of physical pain could easily traumatize and push Marcy to her limits… And, there’s the possibility of good representation for physical disabilities, but also, I don’t want to patronize anyone, or speak over their voices, so again I apologize if I did.

           I guess this just stems from me wanting to see Marcy’s pain be acknowledged and addressed so she can properly heal from it, can be validated and told that it was terrible and should’ve never happened no matter what… But maybe I can find relief in the denial that it didn’thurt her this badly, that Marcy is fine and doesn’t have to deal with that to begin with, because wouldn’t that be better for her? I dunno.

           It’s undeniable that Marcy is going to be emotionally crushed after this… But does she have to stay, or become, physicallycrushed as well?

I just…

           SOMEONE GET THIS GIRL SOME LOVE AND CARE AND THERAPY ASAP FOR THE REST OF HER LIFE AND LET HER BE WELL AGAIN!!!!!

           I just want Marcy to be able to recover and heal… I genuinely hope and wish her emotional spirit will at least be able to move on after this, that she can still find joy and excitable fun, and get to be a kidagain, with her best friends like old times; Only better, because she’s at least grown. God, these girls and their trauma, and the inevitability of how it’ll haunt and hurt them… It leaves me inconsolable.

[lipstickchainsaw]

Kris...?

I finished Deltarune chapter 2 a couple of days ago, and I haven’t been able to stop thinking about it since, so now you all get to share in some of those musings!

Spoilers for Deltarune chapter 2, naturally.

The situation surrounding Kris is a little complicated, because we, as the player, as explicitly possessing them against their will, which means most of the actions they take are not theirs, they are ours.

This dichotomy is present in each of the protagonists of this series, but Kris is most clearly unhappy with our presence. Frisk seems to have very little of an opinion on our actions (to the point where them not being us is a reveal), and Chara’s relationship with the player is too complicated to really delve into here, but there’s some mutual egging on happening in that relationship. (I doubt I will be able to avoid Chara as a subject entirely, given the similarities between them and Kris, but this isn’t primarily about them.)

But our control over Kris is not absolute. Kris is able to assert themselves in various ways, most prominently by literally ripping the player out of themselves, by ripping out the SOUL, but this is where the interesting things start:

For one, the battered birdcage suggests that Kris has ripped their SOUL many times already, which means they’ve done so before the player turned up to take possession of them. This would imply that someone else has take possession of Kris before. The first save we override when playing Chapter 1 is Kris’, which means that they resisted that possession and took control over themselves back before we showed up.

Secondly, Kris willingly puts the SOUL back in in chapter 2. This is either because Kris recognises that they need that SOUL, even if it comes with possession, or because it offers some other advantages that make the possession worth it in some sense, but we’ll get into that later.

 Who is Kris?

So, we know Kris does not like the possession (his response to the Spamton fight makes this exceedingly clear), but beyond that, there are a lot of details we can fill in about who they are.

For one, Kris has really grown to like Susie. They protect her entirely of their own volition when fighting the King, and the Susie Tea heals Kris the most (Ralsei Tea notably does not, but we’ll get to that). Maybe it’s because Susie gets to be as rebellious as she wants, and Kris appreciates having someone around to call out the bullshit they see around them that our control doesn’t let them comment on, maybe it’s something else. It’s hard to tell, because Kris’ relationship is filtered almost entirely through us, but their other relationships aren’t.

Berdly acknowledges that Kris is the third-smartest person in class (which means Kris is the second-smartest, depending on how much help they’ve received from Toriel), and we know from basically everyone that Kris has been a little creepy, unsettling and quiet for a good long while now. They used to do a lot of mean pranks (especially targeting Noelle). One could argue that these pranks went a little too far, but Noelle doesn’t seem to be that upset about those pranks anymore.

This is made more interesting when looking at that moment in chapter 2, where you, as the player, can prank Noelle on the forcefield puzzle, but then, when Noelle pranks Kris back, Kris looks very upset about this. This either means that Kris has gotten over their pranking days, or it’s the unfairness involved that makes this specific instance unpleasant.

We also know that Kris really, really loves Asriel, and wanted to hang out with Asriel and his friends a lot as a kid, even if that meant people like Catty and Bratty taking advantage of them, and we know Kris studied the occult with Catti at some point. Kris also likes to play the piano, and is very frustrated that we don’t know how to.

Oh, and there’s that weird (bomb?) shelter to the south of town that Kris apparently has a history with.

 What’s up with that?

The sound coming from that shelter is plenty ominous already, but Monster Kid and Snowy’s conversation in chapter 2 makes it very clear that Kris has gone in there, and the minor interaction with Susie afterwards indicates that this is not something that Kris likes to talk about.

Now, that shelter is pretty clearly associated with Gaster, and Gaster has been known to experiment with souls, so I do not think it’s much of a stretch to suggest that this is where Kris was first possessed, and things turned for the worse for them.

Kris and Noelle have also gone through something pretty traumatic, possibly involving Noelle’s sister Dess (likely short for December), and the location mentioned for this event makes it very likely that these are the same thing.

So Kris explored that shelter (with Noelle and December, perhaps), stumbled across something bad, and likely got possessed, which they struggled with for a while (turning quiet and strange in the meantime, and alienating the people around them), before fighting the possession off and being left depressed and exhausted, almost perpetually.

But then, there’s another side to Kris.

 The Knight

In chapter 2, we learn that Kris is the Knight, who has created at least two dark worlds, and creates a third at the end of chapter 2. Kris either cannot do this, or does not want to do this, while we’re possessing them, but what’s left of Kris after they rip their SOUL out is a shambling mess of a person, which goes some way to explaining why they accept the SOUL back after they’ve done their thing.

Now, we don’t know Kris also created the original dark world in the supply closet (and we know that one existed before the one in the abandoned classroom), since Ralsei never mentions the Knight creating that one, but, well, Ralsei has been keeping his information close to his chest.

It is interesting, however, that Kris created the dark world in the abandoned classroom before we showed up to possess them, so clearly we are not the (only) reason they’re doing this, but if we aren’t, then what is?

 Ralsei

Ralsei is always incredibly supportive of Kris, to the point of seemingly crushing on them over the course of the games, but Kris does not seem to quite return those affections (given the lukewarm response to the Ralsei Tea compared to the Susie Tea), regardless of whether we do.

Ralsei is also very mysterious, and has, so far, not shared everything he knows about what’s going on. There’s also some hints in the Snowgrave route that Ralsei knows the player and Kris are not the same person, and that he’s using our ability to switch perspectives to actually talk to Kris, which means he isn’t necessarily hiding things from Kris as he is hiding things from us. Just look at how quickly he tells Kris not to think about the Spamton fight, after Kris has their outburst (if you choose to let them say ‘no’).

So, I think Ralsei may be making plans with Kris behind our backs, which makes it very possible that Ralsei knows Kris is the Knight, and is creating these new dark worlds, which would seemingly contradict his desire not to blanket the world in darkness, but, well, there could be a lot he’s hiding from us still.

Does that mean we’re the bad guys? Does it mean Kris and Ralsei are the bad guys? Either is possible, I suppose, but I don’t think it’s unreasonable of Kris and Ralsei to keep information hidden from the powerful entity possessing Kris. We could be nice, sure, but at any point we have the power to do something awful (a fear the Snowgrave route proves to be very real), so I can hardly blame the two of them for not telling us everything immediately.

So maybe Ralsei’s relentless encouragement and pushing for pacifism is meant for us? To make sure our possession of Kris is as easy on them as possible? And on those occasions where our possession gets to be too much for Kris, they can rip their SOUL out and deal with all the bubbling anger and frustration by unleashing it on some tires, and creating a dark world, before putting the SOUL back and go on with whatever plan Kris and Ralsei have going on?

Do their choices matter, in the end? Do ours?

 I have another thing I want to write about that theme, but it’s not entirely related to this one, and this is long and rambling enough already, so let me know if that’s something you’re interested in and I might put it together.

[sometransgal]

How do you deal with dysphoria? Like when it's REALLY bad.

Sometimes I get dysphoric looking at other trans people. I've had long periods where I can't go on social media because seeing EVERYONE makes me feel gross. Like I'm some creepy man invading their space.

How have you dealt with that feeling in the past?

Ok I think I'm ready to answer this ask now.

First and foremost I do want to say that no matter your point in your transition or desire to as long as you don't identify with your assigned gender at birth youre always welcome in trans spaces in my eyes.

Now onto the main question of your ask anon, how to deal with dysphoria. I can't guarantee that any of the advice I give will be foolproof nor effective for you. Everyone's different when it comes to dysphoria and how they best handle it. With that preface out of the way my best technique for dealing with dysphoria and always has been is to stop it from happening in the first place. Body hair gives me dysphoria? Keep myself shaved. Voice giving me dysphoria? Avoid talking at all costs. An ounce of prevention is worth a pound of cure and all that.

When dysphoria creeps in despite that I turn to performing femininity even more than I normally do. I wear cute earrings and do my makeup etc. And I know this isn't exactly helpful for anyone who's closeted and I am sorry for that. Ive not much in the way of dealing with dysphoria in the closet. I burst out of the closer early in my life. I was lucky and I recognize that. Last time I was actively closeted I was a teenager in high school and if I remember correctly I just pretended I was a very effiminate gay kid so I could wear makeup and nail polish.

And finally on dysphoria, if it's so soil crushing and nothing helps, just take it easy on yourself. Don't do anything to make it worse. Log off if you need. Rest in bed. Just be gentle to yourself when you're hurting.

Oh and one more note but this is much more of a general depression and soul suck advice. I've a bit of a silly acronym I use to help myself. If you feel like everything is absolutely awful ask yourself if you've BASTED recently.

Bathed

Ate

Self groomed (shaving, brushing hair, cleaning your living space, etc.)

Taken a nap

Exercised (even just getting up and pacing a bit can help)

Drank

Sorry this is so long and I hope this helps anon! If anyone else has any tips for dysphoria feel free to reply them <3

[theartofdreaming1]

Slightly paraphrased, but Peeta talking about that moment he developed his crush on Katniss is just too sweet 😊

As usual, my thoughts regarding this week’s prompts and random thoughts on chapters 22-24 are below the cut (sprinkled in some psychology thoughts again).

heart

Honestly, I think the people in Panem would perceive the whole everlark storyline the same way we perceive and react to our ships on tv (desperately wanting to reach through the screen, shoving the characters forcefully together, screaming “And now, kiss!”); especially the Capitolites who barely recognize the tributes (or people in the districts, in general) as people. The people in the districts would definitely view the whole thing more under a “reality tv” kind of lens, questioning how much of the relationship is real or not (we know that Finnick certainly thought that the entire thing was just a spiel, until Peeta hit that forcefield). The time spent in the cave must have been pretty convincing, though.

mind

I think that Katniss is still torn here - On the one hand, she kind of wants to believe that Peeta is actually into her (remember the happiness she felt when Peeta told her how his crush on her began, and it all added up and seemed so real), but on the other hand she’s terrified of that possibility because A) lingering trauma from her mom’s depression in response the Mr. Everdeen’s death, B) Katniss never even considered falling in love, so that’s a sudden unexpected thing to deal with, and C) maybe it’s just for the sake of the Games; and wouldn’t that hurt, getting your hopes up only to learn it was only for show? (How about we ask Peeta about that?)

soul

Yeah, that quote about Peeta only eating stale bread also struck me as quite sad. It just further adds to his understanding how there should be more to life than just survival, though. (One day, I’ll make that post about Peeta, Katniss, and Maslow’s pyramid of needs, I swear! I’ve already gathered some research material)

Chapter 22

My mother’s hand strokes my cheek and I don’t push it away as I would in wakefulness, never wanting her to know how much I crave that gentle touch. How much I miss her even though I still don’t trust her. - Ugh, I can’t... Katniss misses her mom, misses being cared for😢 I’m so glad we’re going to see her patch up her relationship with her mom in CF... On a different note, Katniss craving that gentle touch just perfectly illustrates why she’s so drawn to Peeta, who is generally such a gentle soul (I mean, he’s literally the person stroking her cheek here 😊)

He [Peeta] doesn’t seem angry about my tricking him, drugging him, and running off to the feast. Maybe I’m just too beat-up and I’ll hear about it later when I’m stronger. But for the moment, he’s all gentleness. - As I was saying... 😉

“I’ll go hunting soon,” I say. “Not too soon, all right?” he says. “You just let me take care of you for a while.” - I love them so much😊🥰 And then Peeta makes sure she’s well-fed and hydrated, he rubs her cold feet and tucks her into the sleeping back... and she let’s him! 💗

“He [Thresh] let you go because he didn’t want to owe you anything?” asks Peeta in disbelief. “Yes. I don’t expect you to understand it. You’ve always had enough. But if you’d lived in the Seam, I wouldn’t have to explain,” I say. “And don’t try. Obviously I’m too dim to get it,” he says. - Oof. This exchange here is interesting in many ways: 1) it highlights their different experiences, tied to their different socioeconomic backgrounds, basically, and 2)  that Katniss is very much aware of this difference, but we also see hints of her own ignorance here - because Peeta didn’t have to starve in his childhood, she thinks that he can’t possibly understand this level of hardship; but there are other ways in which one can suffer/lack fundamental needs, which brings us to 3) Peeta’s response about being “obviously too dim to get it”; I think this is a clue to his mom being also verbally abusive towards him: she called him “stupid creature” when he burnt those loaves of bread for Katniss and when he’s losing it in the attic of the Justice Building in D11 in CF he is mad that Katniss and Haymitch keep things from him “like [he’s] too inconsequential or stupid or weak to handle them”, which - to me - sounds like he’s tired of being treated that way (i.e. the way his mother treats him)

“I want to go home, Peeta,” I say plaintively, like a a small child. - God, this is a teenager in a murder-arena who feels like wanting to go home is a childish notion instead of a totally legitimate wish for anyone in that situation, regardless of age 😢

It’s not that Peeta’s soft exactly, and he’s proved he’s not a coward. But there are things you don’t question too much, I guess, when your home always smells like baking bread, whereas Gale questions everything. What would Peeta think of the irreverent banter that passes between us as we break the law each day? Would it shock him? The things we say about Panem? Gale’s tirades against the Capitol? - Geez, Katniss, give Peeta some credit here! A) It’s not like Peeta can walk around District 12 talking publicly about the injustices happening there - she and Peeta hadn’t even talked with each other before the reaping, whereas Gale is her best friend who rants to her while they are outside the confines of D12 and B) Peeta is literally the one who introduced the whole “not a piece in their Games”-idea to her; why would he be clutching his pearls over Katniss and Gale’s irreverent banter?! Just because Peeta didn’t live on the brink of starvation (she again brings up how his house smells like bread and - at this point - still thinks that the family running the bakery actually gets to eat what they produce just like that), doesn’t mean he doesn’t see how shitty life in D12 is - he can still want better conditions for those who are worse off than him!

“I did do the right thing,” I say. “No! Just don’t, Katniss!” His grip tightens, hurting my hand, and there’s real anger in his voice. “Don’t die for me. You won’t be doing me any favors. All right?” - Well, we’ll see this song and dance again in CF...

And while I was talking, the idea of actually losing Peeta hit me again and I realized how much I don’t want him to die. [...] And it’s not about what will happen back home. And it’s not just that I don’t want to be alone. It’s him. I do not want to lose the boy with the bread.” - I wish CF Katniss would remember this moment when she is questioning her motives about saving Peeta’s life in the arena - You. Care. For. This. Boy! You. Value. Him. For. Who. He. Is!!!

This is the first kiss that we’re both fully aware of. [...] This is the first kiss where I actually feel stirring inside my chest. Warm and curious. This is the first kiss that makes me want another. - Whoo! Is it hot in here or is it just me? 😉

I’m struck by his immediacy now. As we settle in, he pulls my head down to use his arm as a pillow; the other rests protectively over me even when he goes to sleep. No one has held me like this in such a long time. Since my father died and I stopped trusting my mother, no one else’s arms have made me feel this safe. - He makes her feel safe in a murder-arena!!! 😭 This is the kind of stuff that makes everlark just a top tier romance, tbh

Peeta telling Katniss about his crush starting on their first day of school 🥰😭 - and her reaction to it... For a moment, I’m almost foolishly happy - yes, because you have a crush on him, too! - and then confusion sweeps over me. Because we’re supposed to be making up this stuff [...] So, if those details are true... could it all be true? - YESSSSSSSS!!!

“You have a... remarkable memory, “ I say haltingly. - as a severely socially awkward person... I felt that lame response in my bones 😅

“You don’t have much competition anywhere.” And this time, it’s me who leans in. - God, this would be such an amazing moment if it didn’t get tainted by that immediate sponsor gift, which just serves to muddle Katniss’s feelings with her sense of survival, further complicating her relationship with Peeta... *sigh* 

Chapter 23

“What was that you were saying just before the food arrived? Something about me... no competition... best thing that ever happened to you...” “I don’t remember that last part,” I say, hoping it’s too dim in here for the cameras to pick up my blush. “Oh, that’s right. That’s what I was thinking,” he says. - Peeta is the master of being a cheeky little shit and adorable flirt at the same time

“So, since we were five, you never even noticed any other girls?” I ask him. “No, I noticed just about every girl, but none of them made a lasting impression but you,” he says. - I appreciate that while Peeta has had a crush on Katniss forever, he clearly didn’t spend the entire time pining after her, oblivious to the rest of the world - he has a life outside of Katniss Everdeen, but ultimately, it all lead back to her

A disturbing thought hits me. “But then, our only neighbor will be Haymitch!” “Ah, that’ll be nice,” says Peeta, tightening his arms around me. “You and me and Haymitch. Very cozy. Picnics, birthdays, long winter nights around the fire retelling old Hunger Games tales.” “I told you, he hates me!” I say, but I can’t help laughing at the image of Haymitch becoming my new pal. - Laugh all you want, this is going to end up being your future anyway 😄

He [Haymitch]’s at something of a disadvantage because most mentors have a partner, another victor to help them whereas Haymitch has to bready to go into action at any moment. Kind of like me when I was alone in the arena. I wonder how he’s holding up, with the drinking, the attention, and the stress of tring to keep us alive. - Katniss is already worrying about her “new pal”, I see ;)

Maybe he [Haymitch] wasn’t always a drunk. Maybe, in the beginning, he tried to help the tributes. But then it got unbearable. It must be hell to mentor two kids and then watch them die. - Honestly, that sounds absolutely awful...

Poor, Katniss, when she learns of Thresh’s death :( - But no one will understand my sorrow at Thresh’s murder. - It’s horrible how compassion and basic human decency gets construed as ‘weakness’ in the world of Hunger Games (esp. the Capitol)

Then I escape into sleep, comforted by a full belly and the steady warmth of Peeta beside me. - Honestly, I think a word analysis of THG-series could be interesting; how often does Katniss mention “warmth”, “steady/steadiness” “safe/safety/security” in connection with “Peeta”?

“We make a goat cheese and apple tart at the bakery,” he says. “Bet that’s expensive,” I say. “Too expensive for my family to eat. Unless it’s gone very stale. Of course, practically everything we eat is stale,” says Peeta [...] Huh. I always assumed the shopkeepers live a soft life. And it’s true, Peeta has always had enough to eat. But there’s something kind of depressing about living your life on stale bread - Katniss is starting to realize that the lives of the merchants isn’t a cushy as she thought; also, in a way, we see a “prettier” version of how Panem treats the districts overall -> feeding the districts just enough that they can do their work (plus/minus a couple of people who’ll die of starvation, but at a small, for Capitolites insignificant margin), but not so much that they are in good shape to rebel; here, the merchants of D12 have just enough that they can live a “decent” life (they know it could be worse -> the Seam), but they don’t have enough to live a free, comfortable, self-determined life either. This also just further drives a wedge between the inhabitants of D12 (the merchants won’t want to rebel because they don’t want to get ‘demoted’ in their lifestyle, starving like the people from the Seam, and the Seam folk feel resentful towards the merchant people, while also not having the resources to rebel, due to their awful socioeconomic conditions)

What would be my life like on a daily basis? Most of it has been consumed with the acquisition of food. Take that away and I’m not really sure who I am, what my identity is. - It’s so sad who Katniss has been so consumed with ensuring that her most base needs are fulfilled that she barely has had the time to really figure out who she is and what she wants from life (If we’re talking Maslow’s pyramid of needs, Katniss would primarily be stuck on the lowest tier 😢)

At least, we’ll be friends, I think. Nothing will change the fact that we’ve saved each other’s lives in here. And beyond that, he will always be the boy with the bread. Good friends. - Honestly, Katniss counting on being good friends with Peeta after the Games is the highest honor she can bestow on him at that moment (she’s so into him, lol); of course, knowing that their relationship is going to be a bit rocky once they’ve come back makes this thought a little sad... but we also know they’ll make up (and out ;) in the future

Peeta licking his plate and blowing a kiss out to Effie is such an adorable goofball-moment 😊

I cover his mouth with my hand, but I’m laughing. “Stop! Cato could be right outside our cave.” He grabs my hand away. “What do I care? I’ve got you to protect me now,” says Peeta, pulling me to him. - This moment would be so cute (also, Peeta’s so confident in Katniss’s skills to protect him, which is adorable - toxic masculinity who?) but... Ugh, he’s just so giddy here, it kind of breaks my heart for when he learns later that (at least some) of Katniss’s reactions were just for show

“If we want food, we better head back up to my old hunting grounds,” I say. “Your call, Just tell me what you need me to do,” Peeta says. - Love how Peeta’s always ready to follow Katniss’s lead :)

Ideally, I’d dump Peeta now with some simple root-gathering chore and go hunt [...] “Katniss,” he says. “We need to split up. I know I’m chasing away the game.” [...] “Show me some plants to gather and that way we’ll both be useful.” - Teamwork! If it weren’t for Katniss worrying for Peeta’s safety, they’d be on the same page here

“What if you climbed up in a tree and acted as a lookout while I haunted?” I say, trying to make it sound like very important work. “What if you show me what’s edible around here and go get us some meat?” he says, mimicking my tone. - I really like how Peeta’s challenges Katniss here; he doesn’t just go along with everything she says, while still being quite reasonable

I feel like I’m eleven, again, tethered not to the safety of the fence but to Peeta, allowing myself twenty, maybe thirty yards of hunting space. [...] I allow myself to drift farther away, and soon have two rabbits and a fat squirrel to show for it. - I don’t know, but Katniss feeling tethered to Peeta makes me think of Mary Ainsworth’s attachment theory, according to which children with a secure attachment to their primary caregiver use  their “attachment figure as a safe base to explore the environment”... Of course, Ainsworth’s Strange Situation was conducted with young children, but attachment styles are supposed to influence the relationships we form with people in our later lives as well (including romantic relationships)... I dunno, just a random association that popped into my brain 😅

Chapter 24

Peeta’s a whiz with fires, coaxing a blaze out of the damp wood. - Heh, Peeta sure knows how to handle fire, huh, Katniss (or should I say: Girl on Fire?) 😏

I order him into the sleeping bag and set aside the rest of his food for him when he wakes. He drops off immediately. I pull the sleeping bag up to his chin and kiss his forehead, not for the audience, but for me. Because I’m so greateful that he’s still here, not dead by the stream as I’d thought.  - Aww, this is so sweet (and domestic)!

It’s funny. I feel almost as if it’s the first day of the Games again. That I’m in the same position. [...] But no, there’s the boy waiting beside me. I feel his arms wrap around me. - They are a team! Katniss doesn’t have to face the horrors of the Games alone anymore! It keeps boiling down to this.

[bigteefsmallbrain]

General Soul Eater HCs please

Soul Eater: General headcanons

Death the Kid:

He’s an art critic

Hear me out

He is obsessed with symmetry, and loves the beauty in it

So when he sees something non-symmetrical, especially in art, he can’t help but to critique it

May go as far as to send a personal letter to the artist (If they’re alive) about how offensive it is that they created something so asymmetrical

If he can’t send a letter to the artist, he’ll send one to the owner/museum and request it be taken down, while listing reasons why it’s horrible.

Anything he writes has an even amount of letters and words

Be that his test answers

Essays

Letters

Diary entry

Speaking of diary entries, he definitely has one

But it’s actually just a catalogue of symmetrical things he’s seen

He puts photos into it and writes about how beautiful it was to see

He doesn’t care what it is much, just that it was beautiful

Meaning he takes photos of people too

Which can be unnerving at times

He’s probably taken a photography class before, or at the very least is self taught

Literally has a photo album of things he views are beautiful, but non symmetrical and he would die if anyone found it

Like a particular sunset with uneven hills

Or a flower with one too many petals

Definitely has an 8 ball, not a magic one, just an 8 ball, it’s placed on a velvet pillow in his room and he frequently polishes it

Elizabeth Thompson:

Makes several backup plans as a way to cope

Especially after dealing with an experience with a ghost

She has notebooks full of them, labeled and detailed

At one point she started putting them in alphabetical order but stopped immediately when she realized Kid’s perfectionist habits were rubbing off on her

She practices acting in the mirror

Usually so she can charm a man into dating her

But also to con people

She used to be a “Street rat” and that thought of ending up on the streets again constantly plagues her mind

She takes full advantage of the “Rich life”

Shopping sprees

Quality makeup

Salons and spa days

The works

She lets Patty’s thought that she knows everything get to her head

The fact alone that her sister believes in her that much is enough to make her a bit egotistical

And Patty’s admiration for the girl makes it ten times worse

She literally doesn’t care if she ends up being wrong because she’ll just be right next time anyways

So stubborn in that aspect

Patricia Thompson:

She likes dark humor

You can’t convince me otherwise, you actually can’t, I have evidence

She made an origami Giraffe, and broke its neck

Laughed when Kid said he “wants to die”

She literally pokes him with a stick when he’s depressed

She likes dark humor, and probably looks up jokes to tell others just for kicks

She’s secretly sadistic, and likes scaring her sister and others

She may act naïve and innocent, but she is anything but

She definitely has, more than once, banged on Liz’s door at 3AM just to hear her sister squeal like a little girl

Honestly, she probably purposefully gets their pose wrong, just to see her sisters annoyance and laugh when Kid gets smacked

She likes origami

Probably first got into it because of the paper ninja stars

Then just found it relaxing

She most likely makes the ninja stars mostly, and keeps a box of her origami creations somewhere

Has in the past, and will not hesitate to do so again, beat someone up for kicks or just to destress

Patty has two faces, the childlike innocent one, and the insane anger one

So it’s not too far fetched to say that she’ll hide her anger till she can corner someone alone and beat them up

Or that she gets bored and decides to do so

I wouldn’t be too surprised if her sister occasionally joined as well

Maka Albarn:

She’s a Harry Potter nerd and you can’t convince me otherwise

She loves the concept of magic

Loves the dynamic between Ron and Hermione, though feels a bit of Deja vu thinking about it

Probably used to write fanfiction, but in a way that made it seem like it was actually part of the story

She will hit you if you mention it

Definitely the type to compare books to their movie counterparts

Not in like, a critic way, but she will definitely rant about the differences, or how a character looks exactly like she imagined, or if they didn’t put in a particular scene she liked in the book

Forces Soul into movie nights, but it’s only the movie counterparts to her books

I can see her forcing everyone into a group study session

Be super organized about it, and setting it up in a way so that no one can refuse

She probably has specific ways for everyone to study

Like having Black☆Star work out while studying so he retains the knowledge better

Or setting up the session in a symmetrical way so Kid doesn’t freak out about it

She writes letters to her mom, as a coping mechanism for when her emotions get to be a little too much

Like when she’s having a bad day

Or if she’s particularly peeved at something Soul did

She writes a lot more letters when it comes around the time of her mom's birthday or death anniversary

She likes the thought of an old timey romance, and often listens to songs that give off that kind of feel

She really likes “It’s Been a Long, Long Time”, it’s one of her favorites

She also likes the old Disney songs, like “Once Upon a Dream” and “So This Is Love”

She would be so embarrassed if anyone found out though, especially if it was her dad or Soul

She isn’t quite sure why she’s so worried about Soul finding out though

Speaking of, she half realizes, half doesn’t with anyone's romantic feelings, including her own

She’ll fantasize about getting a love letter or having someone present her with a bouquet of roses

But if it actually happens she’s like “Oh, thanks friend!”

She knows the behaviors, she just can’t put two and two together

They would have to be extremely blunt, no over dramatic confession, just “I’m in love with you and want to be romantically involved with you”

She reads dictionaries for fun

She really likes to read out of date dictionaries, just to see what words and slang existed back then

She also highlights words she likes and uses them frequently on accident

She has most definitely yelled “I have cupid’s kettlebells*! I’m not flat!” at Soul before

Soul Evans:

Bottles. Up. His. Emotions.

He’s influenced by “toxic masculinity” and fully believes that being vulnerable in a serious way “isn’t cool”

He will bottle everything up so deep down inside that it seems impossible for it to surface

Feelings of inferiority to others? Bottled

Want to cry or break down? Nope, gotta be cool

Started crying in front of someone and can’t stop? He’s not crying, you’re clearly blind

Speaking of crying, once he starts, and I mean genuinely starts, it’s so hard to get him to calm down, and even then the tears don’t stop

Sometimes he’ll start to freak out and send himself into a panic attack because the tears just won’t stop

He’s that influenced by the thought of being vulnerable

On a lighter note, he does adore playing the piano, but the only person he’ll play for is Maka

He swears it’s not favoritism, and it’s partially true, but favoritism does play a large role in it

He frequently drags Maka to his room to show her a new piece he put together

And if he notices her feeling a little down that day, he’ll start playing a song that he knows she likes

He definitely knows about her love for old timey romance songs and is very embarrassed to admit a lot of the pieces he constructs are based off of that

The walls are p a p e r t h i n , he can hear her music through the walls

He secretly finds it adorable when he catches her listening to it because she’ll be dancing around to it

He also frequently finds himself thinking about those moments

He’s the stereotype that parents tell little girls about, with how boys will bully their crush

He’s a lot more playful and easy going, but still teases Maka, so much

Unlike Maka, he’s fully aware of his feelings, and acknowledges them, but bottles it up, only letting himself entertain the thought every once in a while

He jabs at Maka’s lack of “Cupids Kettlebells” as a way to try and ensure she won’t fall for him, because he doesn’t know what he’ll do if she does

He reads the same dictionaries that Maka does, not for fun, but so he can know just what the actual h e l l she’s saying

More than once he’s had to look up a particular word or phrase online because he can’t find it in the dictionary

“What the hell? It’s an old Victorian saying!? Where does she keep finding this stuff!?”

Subconsciously, as time goes on, he starts using old phrases as well, he was so embarrassed the first time he got caught saying “Keep your idle daddles* off of her!” when defending someone from a perv.

Black☆Star:

Is so unbelievably selfish with food

It’s not even funny

He will stab someone if they reach for his food

He surprisingly eats healthy most of the time though?

Says something like “I have to otherwise I’ll never surpass the gods!”

The only person who could ever p o s s i b l y steal his food is Tsubaki, but even that’s pushing it

He has the weirdest dreams, and I mean weird

Dreams like being turned into a potato and being cooked, mashed, and devoured by Tsubaki herself

He didn’t talk to her for a week after that dream, and refused to eat potatoes for a full year because “You never know if it could be a person turned into a potato!”

He was also very offended when Tsubaki ate potatoes during that time period

He takes things very literally

Like up above, if someone does something in a dream, he acts like it was real

Or if someone makes a joke about fighting, he will drag them outside to fight

He’s secretly scared of Tsubaki

But it’s for literally the stupidest reason

And he fully believes that because of it she could fight god and win

She used to have a pet cockroach

One of the flying ones

And he is so unbelievably scared of them, because for some reason they just don’t die, and they have w i n g s

So the fact she owned one as a pet scares him so bad even though it was literally for only a week

He has a soft spot for children

He doesn’t really know why

He just does

Is secretly really good with kids

Literally the definition of dad material

He has his flaws but still

Little kids are the only people who could steal his food and get away with it

Every. Time. and it makes the others so mad

Tsubaki Nakatsukasa:

What can I say, she’s perfect

She probably receives love letters

Reads them over when she’s feeling sad

Likes to keep them in a shoebox she painted

She definitely paints to unwind and relax

Likes to go outside and paint the sunrise/sunset

Takes note of beautiful scenery so she can come back in her free time and paint it

She probably draws/sketches too

Carries a sketchbook with her

More than likely has drawn Black☆Star doing something

Like napping or training

She’d never show him though, too scared of inflating his ego or giving him the wrong idea

Stress bakes/cooks

We know she cooks

Liz took advantage of it and pretended Tsubaki’s cooking was her own

So we know she does

Sometimes painting/drawing doesn’t cut it

So she heads to the kitchen and bakes away her worries and unwinds

The main reason Tsubaki would possibly be spared from Black☆Star’s stabbing habit with food is because she cooks all the meals

She makes sure everyone is comfortable around her

She’ll go as far as to learn someone's customs and practice cooking their unique cuisine just to make sure that they feel comfortable and safe in her presence

She radiates mom friend energy

She’s perfect mom material, perfect wife material, perfect in general honestly

*Cupid's Kettlebells is a old term for a woman's bust

*Idle daddles is a old term for hands

I Hope you like these general headcanons for the main seven! You didn’t say which characters you’d like to see, so I played it safe by putting the main characters! Thank you for the ask!