#but my brain keeps playing it on loop

[theshadowrealmitself]

Making this a post so hopefully it stops rotating in my mind:

So y’all know those tropes in fics when people are shipping characters on opposite sides and so the evil one becomes redeemed when the good one that they’ve fallen in love with refuses to get with them or did get with them but runs off because they can’t be with someone who’s evil and that’s what gets them to start being good?

Anyways, so for some reason, my mind is stuck on a scenario like that, where the good one (A) really loves their spouse (B), but can’t be with them anymore, maybe it’s because B wasn’t evil when they first got together, maybe A’s just barely realizing how fucked up their side is and defected to the other side, maybe they knew B was evil when they first got together and thought getting with them would help fix them

Either way, A can’t do it anymore, and so they separate, after clearly communicating with their spouse that they can’t stand whatever fucked up action anymore, but the second B stops, they can come back to A and be welcomed with open arms

And a lot of it is that they can’t be someone like that anymore, and so if B never changes, then they’ll never get back together, and that’s okay with A as much as it can be, because A just can’t handle it anymore

But they really, really hope that the separation does something to B, that B actually does care enough about them and their relationship to stop being evil, because they really do love them, even if it makes them feel guilty for loving someone on the evil side, so they wait for any sign that B is stopping and coming back to them

And wait

And wait

And wait

Until one day, they get word that B stopped! Not only have they stopped doing whatever action, but they’re actively working to make everything they did right to anyone they’ve hurt, all because they didn’t want to lose their spouse, who’s unhappy with them being evil

But the spouse being referred to isn’t A, it’s a new spouse they got after the separation, they just didn’t care enough about A to try and not lose them

[tawnysoup]

Transitional phase

[poorly-drawn-mdzs]

Siffrin plays Disco Elysium AU: Featuring backseat gamer Loop.

[astraldrake]

ye will be countless born forever and ever

[crzyimp]

Bloody Pig

cw: gore, body horror, animal death, cannibalism

Author note: Getting back into writing after eons and dipping my toe into horror.

A peaceful slumber ruefully disrupted when a hand grasped the young man's shoulder and harshly shook him. "Wake up!" his old mother yelled in a whisper, hearing him groan, his eyes tried to adjust and focus as the lantern swings over him. Moving his arm to shield the eyes from its annoying light. Mother carefully set the lantern down by his bed as she moved towards the window. "I think someone is here; I think they're in the barn." Her voice wavering as her eyes frantically searched out in the darkness.

"How do you know that? We don't have neighbors and it's a half a day trip to the nearest village. Father must have been mumbling in his sleep again and woke you up." he mumbled, propping himself up into a sitting position.

"It's not your father's mumbling that woke me up!" She responded with agitation, keeping her voice low. "I heard the sow screamin-"

"The sow pregnant and probably giving birth, mother please, ther-"

"Silence Jiahao!" Quickly snapping as she moved from the window to the bed, pressing a boney finger upon Jiahao's chest. "Something isn't right. Go out there and check. Now." Yanking his half-awake body from his bed. Sluggishly, Jiahao complies, picking up the lantern as she herded him towards outside. If checking the barn and easing her worries will let him go back to sleep, then so be it. "Go check the barn and I'll wake your father to join you." She said hastily and shoved her son out the door. The sound of her footsteps retreating leaving Jiahao alone outside. It was quiet for a summer's night.

A shiver ran through your spine, perhaps mother was right that something wasn't right. Critters and other nocturnal singers sing their songs during the summer, but not tonight. The only sounds to be heard are the pregnant sow's whines. Lifting the lantern up, the light showed just enough to make the outline of the barn. No lights were shown from the inside. To be expected from poor farmers, not wanting to attract bandits and deserters to their homes. A price they didn’t pay, but forced upon them and others like them by those of higher stations over a chance of taking the emperor’s throne.

Slowly, you walked from the safety of the house to the barn. Mindful not to make noise as you draw near. With each step creeping closer, whines of the sow could be heard along with others sounds behind the barn's doors. Gently, but hesitantly, you placed your hand on the door. A nostalgic smell, like iron, seeps through the barn's doors. The unexpected smell reminded you of when you and father killed a grower to sell its meat to the village.

The whines were growing weak with each heartbeat. But the other sounds, previously drowned out by the sow's whine became clear, wet, sloshing, grunting, and growling. Sounds of someone ripping and tearing flesh as they feverishly eat. Slurping and moaning like a starved man eating for the first time in such a long time. 

You don’t want to open the door but now you can’t turn back empty handed. Mother would scold you and call you a coward without checking. She did mention waking your father, that piece of knowledge did comfort you, any second, he will be joining you. Maybe announcing you're not alone will cause the intruder to freeze up or even flee through the window. With that thought in mind, you slowly push the door open and hold the lantern high. Ready to call out with confidence as the door swings open.

Any comfort or confidence dies, along with your voice, at what's inside. Laying on the ground was the sow, on her side, with the lantern's sight you clasp a hand over your mouth. Her midsection ripped open and her intestines moving and slithering in a pool of blood and mud. Like eels moving and alive, trying to escape. Can’t bear to look any longer, you move to lantern's light to find her piglets.

Her offspring didn't fare better as their mangled corpses sprawled out across the barn interior, half eaten and tossed to the side. Eyes watery and suppressing the scream in your throat, you frantically search for the culprit. No human would commit such cruelty, not even a starved one, this has to be the work of something else. Realizing you are too afraid to step in, you stood there unmoving until movement in the darkness caught your attention.

A lone survivor, a piglet steps into the light. Covered in the blood of its kin with pieces of torn flesh hanging off its jaw. Its body rippling and morphing as it grows. The thing groans as its body goes through the stages of life, infancy to adulthood. The monster hungrily stares at the sow, licking and curling its lips. Rows of teeth reflect off the lantern's light; some needle-like a newborn piglet, others sharp fangs, and uncanny like human teeth. The sow's whines ceased as its child, now monster, moved to feast on her disemboweled body. Its front hooves cracking and splintering to resemble human hands. All the better to grip and scoop the flesh into its maw. Effortlessly tearing the sow's leg with one arm, the other arm tears the sow's rib bones with an audible crack. The monster eats with frenzy, mixing sounds of flesh and bone crumbling under it's might.

You can't, couldn't bear the sight anymore, the hand over your mouth dug deeply into your skin as you breath rapidly through your nose. The demon hasn’t noticed you yet and with remaining wits, you slowly back away. You need to get your parents and leave. Get far away from here while this monster is distracted with fattening itself up with its kin.

"There you are! I'm guessing everything is fine!" Father shouted loudly with a smile. Almost bumping into Jiahao's back. 

You turn to stare at your father with horror and slowly twist your head to see the monster, now staring at you licking its bloody lips.

[hecksupremechips]

Btw I’ve started playing the funny stars and time game. The the one about the loopty loop and the white diamond ass shit

[elvencantation]

i was today years old when i realized the lyrics aren’t actually ‘it’s gonna be may’

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

Lately I can't stop thinking about Elinor Dashwood.

People tend to not like S&S as much as P&P or Persuasion or even Emma, and I get it. I can't claim that S&S is my favorite or even second-favorite Austen novel. But God. Elinor.

Elinor spends the entire fucking novel having to put aside what she wants in order to do what's best for the people she loves. She is "the comforter of others in her own distress, no less than theirs." She chooses to give counsel in a gentle way, and often bites her tongue because she knows the person in question won't listen to her, choosing instead to be a supportive, safe place.

The big contrast, I think, between Elinor and Marianne when we view them through the modern lens (that is, if one were to update S&S for an adaptation that took place in the 21st century) would be that Marianne says and does what she wants in the moment and Elinor doesn't, because Elinor doesn't just think about her anger, or her desire, or her pain, or her joy, in that moment. She thinks about what happens the moment after that. And the day after that. And the week after that.

Elinor wants to tell Edward she loves him. She wants to do it more than anything, especially since she has reason to suspect he returns her feelings. But she also knows that whatever relief comes from telling him in the moment, the next day and the day after and the day after that are going to be painful for him and for her. She might cause Edward to break off his engagement to Lucy, which would financially ruin Lucy (remember, in those days a marriage was an economical decision as well as an emotional one), ruin Lucy's reputation, ruin Edward's, and probably cause resentment between all three in time. Elinor is aware of the consequences of her actions and the potential pitfalls in a way that Marianne isn't.

Elinor's just. She's so fucking responsible, and she's so fucking loving. She's the mom friend in your group who makes sure everyone has what they need and gets home safe at night. She's the friend who is always there to pick up the phone when you call. She's the friend who bails you out of jail, who holds your hair while you vomit your hangover into the toilet, and firmly but lovingly calls you out when you fuck up.

And she gets shit for it.

She gets her own sister calling her "cold" and "heartless." She's told she's "without feeling" by the person who should know her best. She sticks up for Marianne through all of Marianne's mistakes (that nearly ruin not only Marianne but their whole family). In the 21st century I'd say Marianne did the equivalent of nearly having an affair with her married boss. Sure, it wouldn't necessarily be Elinor's fault if Marianne had gone ahead and done it, but people would probably judge Elinor anyway (thinking Elinor was the same or Elinor should've stopped her) and at the very least would've gossiped about it in every room Elinor was in for the next decade.

And when Elinor finally has enough, and tells her sister this behavior isn't okay and she needs to fix it, Marianne tells her she thinks Elinor doesn't have a heart. Elinor who has spent the whole novel taking care of everyone except herself, Elinor who has been kind to people who don't deserve it (Lucy Steele, arguably Miss Jennings), Elinor who has been beating herself up constantly for not just any behavior that falls short of her own ideals for herself but for her very thoughts in her head.

Elinor is SO hard on herself guys, she's constantly berating herself. She calls it her "self-command" but really it's an endless litany of self-scrutiny where she more often than not finds herself coming up short, and criticizes herself as a result.

I can't stop thinking about the quote from the 1995 film, which was paraphrased from Ch. 37 in the novel. It's when Marianne tells her sister she's without feeling and is shocked that Elinor reveals how she's been grieving for months over her inability to marry the man she loves. In the book the quote goes,

"Then, if I had not been bound to silence, perhaps nothing could have kept me entirely--not even what I owed to my dearest friends--from openly shewing that I was very unhappy."

In the movie it became:

"Believe me, Marianne, had I not been bound to silence I could have provided proof enough of a broken heart, even for you."

Elinor's hurting. She's hurting badly, she's actively in grief and she can't even talk about it with anyone because if she does, she's breaking someone's trust and confidence. Elinor is the friend who gets in trouble with her parents because she won't say where she was, since it'll reveal things about a friend she promised to keep secret. Elinor is the person who stays silent and lets people think the worst of her rather than badmouth someone. Her integrity, and her principle of honoring the feelings of others, means more to her than her own happiness, or even her own reputation.

I don't know, guys. I think we tend to value Marianne more, and behave more like Marianne - we value "sensibility." The person who shows the most emotion is the person whose opinion is most valuable. Especially in this age of social media where we're trained to bare it all, and the person who performs their hurt the best is the person whose pain is the most valid, I can't stop thinking about Elinor. Elinor's privacy, her sense of honor, and her selfessness are written off as coldness and a lack of caring, when the novel takes pains to show us she feels more than Marianne or anyone else in the story.

I just really love her, guys. I really love Elinor Dashwood, and I think she's a lot more relatable than many of us give her credit for being.

[wolveragrace]

.

[dzozef]

my biggest lifehack for adhd is playing joseph joestars theme on loop loudly in my headphones when i work

[buyingaradspaceship]

I think I’m going to bake some bread tomorrow for the release of getting to hit something for fifteen minutes and call it kneading

[phagodyke]

well.

[jaxthedragon]

I forgor my headphones at home and now I have to sit in silence for three hours until my class

[gokufangirl]

I think I am becoming the stay?

[suguann]

Ex-husband!Gojo who doesn’t understand that the parents (mostly the moms who try to hide behind their giant sunglasses) at Mio’s soccer games talk, and he chooses today to pull you into his lap. Several sideways glances cast your way at how cozy you both must look as you watch your four-year-old daughter run in the wrong direction across the field because she got distracted by a butterfly.

He doesn’t hear what they talk about—aren’t they divorced? I’ve never seen anyone divorced act like that—or (worse) when they try to be subtle about their probing into Satoru’s dating life while you stand there with a stilted smile plastered onto your face. 

(More than likely, he’s listened to every word and doesn’t give it the same amount of thought or care as you do.)

“Gojo,” you hiss, trying to move off his lap to no avail. “I have my own chair.”

“Can you still call me that if it’s your name too?”

A huff. “Go bother somebody else—”

“Shh,” he tells you, tugging you further against his chest. “You’re missing the game. Mio’s finally found her way back onto the field again.”

“But everyone’s staring at us.” You catch the eye of a mother tearing into a pack of fruit snacks.

“So? Let them stare.”

Everyone starts cheering, and you both watch Mio chase the ball down the field, her little body ducking between the taller kids. 

“That’s my girl!” Gojo shouts over the other parents.    

And then Mio kicks the ball into— 

The wrong goal.

“Maybe we should have let her join t-ball,” you whisper, though you both clap as your daughter starts doing not-quite cartwheels in the middle of the field.

Ex-husband!Gojo who still does work around the house every Friday, and to your dismay, shirtless now that the weather is warmer.

The plate in your hands has a few scuffs, half of a cartoon character’s face scrubbed off to oblivion that Mio will have something to say about later. Doing everything to stop from staring out into the yard where he’s mowing the lawn because the window is right there, above the sink, to tempt you.

It’s difficult when his chest glistens with sweat from the early-summer heat and how those stupid gray cotton shorts (that you know he picked out with the sole purpose of torturing you) sit dangerously low on his hips— 

He looks towards the kitchen window, a crooked smile stretching across his lips. The blood rushing to your brain, that must be what makes you give a sudsy wave and cause heat to creep into your middle.

Ex-husband!Gojo who strolls into your room while you’re putting away laundry one afternoon, and unsurprisingly shirtless as he crowds you against the dresser. Front to back. His mouth at your ear.

That steady resolve you pride yourself in crumbles at your feet, and you swallow the tiny, helpless sound working its way up your throat. A slippery thing that slips out. “Satoru…”

“You know, these little shorts were always my favorite,” he tells you, his fingers playing with the elastic waistband.

“Were they?”

“Don’t you remember? Couldn’t get them out of the way fast enough.”

Your mouth is dry, something playing in a loop in the back of your brain. Early morning, breakfast cooling on the stove, crumbs stuck to your cheek, these shorts dangling off the leg propped up on the counter—

“Where’s Mio?”

A kiss to your nape, a knowing smile. “Taking a nap.”

Ex-husband!Gojo who works your shorts and underwear off your legs before pulling you to the edge of the bed. 

“Satoru, we—we can’t keep doing this—”

Your words trail off into a moan when he slaps your clit with the leaky tip of his cock, and wet sounds echo in the room.

“Yeah? Go on, baby,” he tells you, slowly splitting you open, stuffing you full, two puzzle pieces slotting perfectly into place like it should be (how it’s always been). “Tell me some more why we can’t keep doing this.” 

You can’t, not with how he’s filling you up in the way only he knows how. Not when he hooks two thick fingers into your mouth because you’re getting too loud, pinning you against the bed with your cheek buried into your pillow, every sound choking into nothing.

You wriggle underneath him, fingers clawing at the comforter and your back arching.

“Christ, look at you,” he growls, leaning over you, teeth bared. “Fucking look at you. You needed this, didn’t you?”

Ex-husband!Gojo who presses what leaks out back inside you with his thumb after he pulls out, wet and sticky circles between your legs until you fall apart again with a soft cry. His thumb is there again, at your entrance, pushing and stopping like a plug, muttering something under his breath that sounds like, “Can’t waste it.” 

And quieter, “Maybe it’ll take.”

(Who knows?

Maybe it will. Worse things have happened.)

Ex-husband!Gojo who stays for dinner for the fourth time that week, and none of the reasons have been because Mio asked if he could. It’s more about the fact that you’ve enjoyed how whole your family feels again, that you can pretend for a moment this is what you do every night.

(How it was probably always going to come back to this.) 

That your wedding ring doesn’t sit in the back of your sock drawer, and his isn’t tucked away in his wallet. That you don’t feel guilty when you think about saying I love you or wishing he’d stay longer—

“Daddy, you gonna lose,” Mio tells Satoru as Mario Kart appears on the screen.

“We’ll see,” he laughs, tugging on one of her pigtails until she’s giggling and swatting his hand away.

You lean back against the couch, watching them with a small smile you share with Satoru over your daughter’s head.

[jakowskis]

.