#but otherwise this is just to get it out of my system

[comesatimecomesashadow]

meet the frownies *ೃ༄

pairing *ೃ༄ sunday x reader

fic type *ೃ༄ headcanons, once-shot, comfort

cw *ೃ༄ mentions of mild/severe depression (no mentions of SH or other similar topics)

summary *ೃ༄ sunday takes care of you during your hardest moments.

note *ೃ༄ i've made so many of these for different characters, its crazy | also its my first time writing 4 sunday so don't judge too harshly TwT

masterlist *ೃ༄

ᡣ𐭩 . . Sunday is already reluctant to have you out of his sight for too long, so he notices right away when you’re dealing with a particularly bad episode of depression. Being the attentive lover that he is, he studies up on your condition and equips himself with knowledge to learn how to take care of you and how to approach you during these episodes. 

ᡣ𐭩 . . He isn’t one to beat around the bush and frankly, he hates it when others do too. However, he understands if you don’t want to come with him about your mental issues. He’ll coax you into it sooner or later, you of course, won’t notice. 

ᡣ𐭩 . . Sunday won’t force you to do anything (per sé), he’ll only suggest something and make you feel like it was your choice in the first place. He’ll have the butlers and servants of his mansion tend to you with the utmost care. Craving something sweet? Or perhaps a book to read- maybe pages to color? Chances are, he’s already sent for it. 

ᡣ𐭩 . . If you have a preference for solitude, he assumes that your solitude excludes him. Whether you like it or not, Sunday will always stay at your side during these moments and make sure his dearest isn’t lacking the care they need or putting themselves in danger. 

ᡣ𐭩 . . If you can’t tend to your hair, can’t find your appetite, or just can’t bring yourself to emerge from the confines of the plush bed of your shared room — Sunday will help you care for yourself. While the Head of the Oak Family wouldn’t otherwise find himself doing such things for others, he won’t hesitate to do it for you. 

ᡣ𐭩 . . But as much as he is your lover, that doesn’t mean he isn’t a little twisted. Sunday likes it when you rely on him so in these moments of depression, he’ll find his ego skyrocketing by the way you allow him to help you take care of yourself. 

༝༚༝༚ oneshot under the cut !

   Three days, sixteen system hours and fifteen minutes. 

   That was all the time Sunday needed to realize you were not your usual self. He noticed the despondent gleam in your eyes and the sluggish air that surrounded you as of late. Surely you’d come to him sooner or later.. He didn’t want to scare you with his confrontation and drive you away, you were a fragile thing — You needed patience and loving care. 

   Sunday would bear the weight of the world for you, but even he has limits. 

   As the month passed, your condition only deteriorated which only served to concern him even further. When you left his office after reporting to him, he searched The Family’s archives high and low to learn what he should do to aid you. “-’people who suffer from depression may experience episodes of lethargy, numbness and in severe cases, may even suffer from suicidal ideation. While one cannot cure this condition, depression may be alleviated by understanding company, healthy foods and therapy in severe cases.’..” 

   Should he get you a therapist? Did you need one? Sunday smiled to himself and thought his abilities to be better than any therapist; All you needed was him and he was sure of it. He closed the book promptly and put it back in its place, he’ll have to talk to you later — It was about time that you came to him after dealing with all of that yourself. 

.

.

.

   Later that night, you withdrew to Sunday’s mansion after work. Three years of a relationship with the Head of the Oak family had provided you a warm stay at his residence and you couldn’t be more than grateful — Especially during times like this. Lately, you hadn’t been eating much and you began to get out of bed later than you usually did. The servants only looked at you with concern, but said nothing lest they incur the wrath of Sunday. 

   You sighed upon entering your shared quarters. A moment to breathe and try to collect yourself. The act of going to work and coming back was already a tiring task so you were glad none of the servants asked you anything. You wouldn’t know what to say anyway. 

   The weight on your shoulders felt lessened when you got into your sleeping clothes and crept into the inviting sheets of the king sized bed you slept in. They enveloped you whole and warmed you up after a few moments. You knew what you were going through and after so many years of dealing with it on your own, you’d believed the best remedy was to sleep it off. 

   But Sunday had other plans. 

   When he got home that night, he asked the butler about your whereabouts. After being informed that you had withdrawn to your shared quarters and were asleep, Sunday thanked him and sought you out. He wasn’t sure how he should confront you or let you sleep.. But for now he’d do the latter and address your condition tomorrow. 

   Sunday wasn’t unfamiliar with your current mental state; You were usually like this every few months but it was the first time he had seen it affect you so much. Usually you’d be back to your usual self after about a week or two; This time it had been unusually extended for almost a month. 

   Which is why he was so concerned. 

   When he opened the door, the room inside was dark, as if a black hole had enveloped it whole. The moon outside only served to dimly light the inside of it. As Sunday discarded his work clothes, he was pained upon gazing at your sleeping form. The notable signs of your lethargy were evident by your slow, deep breaths. 

   As he settled in beside you, he adjusted his position so he was spooning you. He was delighted when you turned over to curl into him, a subtle moment of vulnerability he missed seeing in you. He wrapped his arm around you, like a snare encircling its prey. Sunday placed a soft kiss on your forehead before closing his eyes and succumbing to sleep. 

   The rest of the night was quiet and soon after, the morning came. When morning crept up on the both of you, Sunday was the first to get up. Now that there was a little light in the room, he saw the prominent shadows that settled under your eyes. You seemed at peace but tired at the same time. 

   After getting ready for the day, Sunday reached out to cup your cheek to slowly lull you out of your slumber  with his soft touch. He needed you to tell him what was going on, he wouldn’t let it go on any further. After a short while, your lashes fluttered and you awoke with a soft yawn. 

   “You’re here.” You noted as you sat up and rubbed the sleep from your eyes. 

   “Of course I am, dearest. Why wouldn’t I be?” 

   You rested your head on his shoulder and closed your eyes once more, barely awake. “You’re usually at work at this hour.” 

   He smiled a little and lay his head on top of yours. A warmth settled on his heart as he took note of how perceptive you were when it came to him.  “You’re not wrong. But I have more pressing matters to tend to here than at work.” 

   You straightened up and gazed up at him lazily, “Yeah?” 

   He nodded, “Mhm.” 

   “Like what?” 

   He smiled, your curiosity was a thing that never seemed to diminish. “Your state of mind, I’ve noticed you’ve not been well, dearest.” Once you heard his words, you tore your eyes away from his, 

   “Oh.” You played with the fabric of the fluffed up sheets that covered you. “That.” 

   “I’m not going to ask if you’re fine, I know you aren't.” Sunday began, “But I want you to come to me if you’re struggling. I can’t have my lover drowning in their own issues, you know that right?” His voice had a sincere lilt to it. 

   You brought your knees up to your chest and hugged them close, as if to curl up into a ball and hide yourself from the world. Sunday hated seeing you so tired and apathetic, so caged in. 

   Like a dove in a cage. 

   “Dear you know I hate to see you hurting..” He reached out to lift your chin towards him, “Won’t you entrust me with your troubles?” 

   “I’m afraid you can’t fix this one, Sunday..” you muttered quietly. 

   Sunday smiled tenderly, “I’m not trying to fix you, dear. This isn’t something that can be fixed.” You looked up into his eyes, as if you were searching for something in them. Maybe answers.. Maybe comfort. “-But if I can help you feel better, that would be enough for me.” 

   You hadn’t been feeling much in the past few weeks, but for some reason, his words touched your heart. People throughout your life always treated your mental illness like it was a part of you to remain undisclosed, hidden from public view. It was like an interminable mistake; a blot on your person that you could not erase no matter how much you tried to correct it. 

   Sunday noticed the glimmer of emotion in your eyes, it had been a while since he’d last seen you so .. hopeful. While he did like having you rely on him.. He knew this wasn’t good for you. He rubbed your back, “I know you haven’t been eating well, your appetite has been diminishing. But is there anything you’re craving? Even if it’s something small, you should eat, my darling.” 

   You wiped the tears in your eyes that had begun to form. “Uh.. well, ..Can I have something sweet?” Your voice was low, but soft. 

   “My, my.. If you wanted to have me for breakfast you could have just said so, dearest.” He joked. To his satisfaction, you let out a small laugh at his joke. It was the first time in weeks he had seen you smile so genuinely. It wasn’t a fake one, like the one you used at work when greeting your coworkers. “Sweet treats can be arranged. In the meantime, would you like a bath?”

   ‘A bath would seem nice..’ you thought to yourself. But then, you thought about how you’d have to wash every inch of your body, the shampooing and conditioning.. Once you thought about it, it seemed like a chore you didn’t want to get into. And as if he knew exactly what you were thinking, Sunday spoke up once more. “I’m offering, dearest. You’ll just sit back and relax, hm? How about it?” 

   So one nod and a couple minutes later, here you were. 

   The water surrounded your body, the bubbles felt nice around your skin. Sunday was singing what sounded like a lullaby while he gently undid the knots in your hair. Usually, it was a feat to take care of your hair, but Sunday made it feel as if it was no trouble at all. You swore you could fall asleep to the sound of his voice, if he let you. 

   The sweet timbre in his voice came to a stop after he finished the song. “Why did you hold off on telling me about your condition..?” 

   You kept popping the bubbles around you, but at a slower pace. “..I didn’t want to trouble you, I know how busy you can get with the hotel guests and The Family.” 

   Sunday was amused by your thoughtfulness. But it still saddened him, that you rarely trusted him with issues like these. “Dearest, I’ll always make time for you.” Once he finished detangling your hair, he rinsed off the conditioner carefully. Seeing him so focused on you was something you had missed. 

   “I know, I know.. I just didn’t want to bother you with something so trivial..” You honestly thought that it was something you should just deal with on your own. It had worked so well for years, the years before him.. So it should work now, right?

   Sunday moved the stool he sat on to face you. Yellow irises met yours and you think you’ve never seen a man look so ethereal than now. “I know you can handle yourself, but I am your lover. I want to know when you’re feeling distressed, or saddened for the sole fact that, to me, it is anything but trivial. It matters to me.” His words were sincere. You knew it from the way he looked at you when he said them — As if you were the only person in his world. 

   You nodded, but that wasn’t enough for Sunday. “I want you to let me know when you feel like this, okay? I do not want to see you suffering alone. We’ll bear the weight of it together.” 

   A familiar warmth set into your heart upon hearing him. In the many years you’d dealt with your mental condition, you’d never met someone so willing to shoulder the burden that you felt you were, until now. You knew for a fact that Sunday loved you, but hearing it like this and seeing it in his actions was different entirely. 

   Overtaken by your emotions, you sprang out from the tub and wrapped your arms around his neck. The cold air nipped at your skin but you could care less. “I’ll tell you about these things more often, just.. Be patient with me.” 

   Sunday was surprised by your actions at first and he didn’t quite like being wet, but he’d bear it for you. He returned your hug and nodded. 

   “I’ll wait however long it takes.” 

[rathayibacter]

Ok so how does one MAKE a tabletop game because this is something I want to try!! Are there good references out there for non-d20 systems or how to balance mechanics yourself?

oooh, hell yeah! honestly the big thing is to just do it, unlike board and video games the gap between idea and execution in ttrpgs is incredibly narrow, so if youve got an idea just start writing stuff down and see where it starts pulling you, where it feels like something's missing, find what excites you and what you feel isn't working. but that's not very specific, so let's get into it!

first off, read games! read weird games! there's tons of free ttrpgs on itch, lots of people sharing their work here and on other social media, there's 200 word rpgs here and here, and lots of system reference documents written specifically for people looking to hack games. reading other games is a great way to enrich your work whether you're building systems from scratch or working in an existing framework, because every game you read will show you a new way of approaching design problems.

on that note, draw inspiration outside of ttrpgs too! i pull a lot from video, board, and card games in my work, as well as poetry, novels, movies, etc etc etc. im autistic, and ive spent a lot of my life thinking about and dissecting unwritten social rules, so that's another big source of material for me. take your passions, whatever they may be, and put them in your work!

next up, think about the core of your game, sometimes called the minimum viable product. this is whatever the fundamental idea at the heart of your work is, and it's important to keep in mind because it keeps you from spiraling down unnecessary tangents. the core of your game can change, don't get me wrong! in fact, it likely will. what you want to do isn't prevent your work from growing and changing, but have a point of light you can always refer back to and ask "is what im doing important to this game?" you might be surprised by what you find isn't actually as important as you thought at first, and what turns out to be vital to the experience you're going for.

next up, once you start working, don't throw things away. if youre working in a word processor or google docs, it can help to have a section at the bottom of your document that you copy anything youd otherwise delete into. i do the same with my Affinity documents, ill have a few pages i dont export to store all my scraps. i know other folks who keep a dedicated scraps document that they use across projects. whatever works for you! the reason you do this is twofold: it makes it easier to cut things if you know you can always put it back later if you change your mind, and it gives you a lot of raw material that you can pull from in the future. months or years from now, you might find yourself looking to fill a gap in a new design and realize that some cool toy you set aside is exactly what you were looking for.

lastly, i wanna strongly encourage you to practice finishing things. that's often the hardest part for people, cuz we have a lot more experience starting projects than finishing them. here id like to once again direct you to 200 word rpgs, because that strict limit means you wind up with a finished first draft really quickly, and the rest of it is polishing and editing. once you've finished some bite-sized projects, you'll have a better idea of what it entails, what parts you're good at and what parts you struggle with, when to keep working and when to cut yourself off. i find it really helpful to add arbitrary limitations and deadlines on my work because that helps me push myself to finish something when otherwise i'd just keep adding and tweaking, but you'll find what works best for you!

[cometconmain]

I have someone who comes to groom my dog because I physically can't keep up with it. He's extremely good at his job.

He also thinks Trump isn't all that bad a guy, the Democrats are the anti-human rights party, had no idea the Supreme Court was a thing/is controlled by Republicans and that's why so many human rights are being rolled back in America, refuses to actually use his privilege of having a preferential voting system to not have to vote for the two major shitty parties because he insists on believing nothing good has been done despite numerous proving points to the contrary in his own life let alone others' lives, thinks climate change is a hoax and can't wrap his head around why university studies need to be checked for a donor list and a fossil fuel company supported 'study' isn't reliable actually, hasn't even learned the most basic empathy concept of "you not suffering from a problem other people suffer from doesn't make that problem less important/you should care about people whose lives you don't experience", outright said with his full chest that maybe we should racially segregate the Olympics again actually, and a number of other toxic to downright rancid things I would have just written him off and slammed the door in his face for last year let alone a few years ago.

Don't get me wrong. Talking to him is fucking EXHAUSTING and I feel physically disgusting afterward having to just calmly listen to all these things he spouts which have historically resulted in entire groups of people being targeted for genocide and numerous other human rights abuses when left unchecked and allowed to fester at the societal level.

BUT HE LISTENS WHEN I CHALLENGE HIM.

I can see him actually seeing me as a human being worth listening to. He's older than me and definitely been down way too many right-wing rabbit holes for me to pull him onto the surface any time soon. But I'm giving him things to chew on and hopefully if we're lucky I've planted some seeds which will eventually grow into some semi decent human being plants one day. He's really ignorant and clearly under-educated and that itself isn't his fault and biting his head off isn't remotely going to make up for that gap and is only going to drive him further into the arms of whatever fucked up extremist conservative groups he's been listening to.

He is reachable. He's just also a very long project I only get to work on for an hour at a time every 6 weeks.

And some of the things I've said which I think were part of what got through to him involved showing empathy for him being a single father(? I may have mixed that up with someone else but I think he is) with a disabled kid. He shows empathy for disabled people because he's the father of one (and probably is neurodivergent himself I believe but unsupported and doing his best to give his son the support he didn't get from the sounds of it).

But yeah.

Listen: you don't have to take shit to the face if the person is solely malicious and trying to hurt you. No one is obligated to meet that with kindness and anyone saying otherwise can get fucked. There is a limit to how much bullshit someone can cop while the bullshitter acts like any emotional response to their bullshit is unreasonable/out of nowhere and that is valid on the part of the person copping the crap.

However, if you a) can handle coping long enough to break down those walls with unexpected kindness/it isn't dangerous for you to try that method (VERY IMPORTANT. PAY ATTENTION TO THOSE DETAILS. DON'T TRY THAT ON SOMEONE WHO IS ACTIVELY THREATENING/DANGEROUS TO YOU), or b) can tell it's soft bigotry/general ignorance driving the otherwise yuck things being said, do give the compassion and patient education route a try.

I've had numerous instances of me holding shitty ignorant beliefs I had no idea were actually harmful. The people biting my head off didn't get to me. The people who took the time to see I was just ignorant and under-educated on the matter (and hadn't yet developed the empathy for a group I didn't belong to) taking me aside and patiently dealing with my idiocy long enough to explain things to me in a way that got through my skull (and eventually into my heart as well) were the ones who fundamentally improved me as a person. I still have plenty of things I always have to work on. But I can tell you now I would be much MUCH worse without those patient, kind, educational interventions by people who could tell the difference between malice and ignorance.

The same applies to everyone else.

Human beings are human beings. All of us. Re-humanising each other is the last thing any of the politicians and extremist groups want us to do BECAUSE IT WORKS. IT BREAKS THE WARPED MODEL OF THE WORLD THEY PORTRAY AS REALITY TO DIVIDE US AND KEEP US ALL AT EACH OTHER'S THROATS INSTEAD OF CUTTING OFF THE FOOD SOURCE FOR THEIR WEEDS AT THE ROOT.

When we remind a hurting person that we are a person too, not the bogeyman the extremist groups paint us as, it shakes their warped worldview to the core. It makes them think. It makes them QUESTION. It makes them look at the flower the 'evil' Pride-pin wearer gave them because no one gave them flowers when their mother died and their hate begins to crack at the seams.

The things the world teaches men hurts men too. Teaching them they DON'T have to subscribe to that mentality all the way down to the roots of the patriarchy weed is the best and most effective way of cutting that mentality off at the source. Even if you struggle to empathise with men because you've been hurt; ok, valid. But it is demonstrably more effective, sustainable and long term changing to just get rid of all of it by addressing their pain and showing them how much healthier and happier they can be just in their own life let alone others' lives by casting off the system that hurts them too.

I'm pretty sure I'm just rehashing the same points here, sorry, but the concept of deradicalisation as a healing and long term change tool has been my social justice special interest this year so talking it out helps it solidify in my own head too. (And gives me strength to deal with bullshit because it reminds me it's worth copping what I can personally handle in order to get someone to think, change and grow, one exhausting person at a time).

part of the reason i love how bell hooks talks about masculinity is that she shows real compassion towards men suffering from the effects of toxic masculinity. she was conscious of how we need to unlearn the ways we talk about men + masculinity just as much as we need to unlearn the same for women + femininity. so many times ill see someone talking about toxic masculinity like (hyperbolizing here but only slightly) “these FUCKING STUPID BABY BITCHES won’t MAN UP and go to a therapist!!!” and like. i get the anger. but you see feminists recreating patriarchal manhood by only promoting good behaviors through patriarchal frameworks. any use of the term “real men” is bad because it reifies the idea that manhood is a special title you must earn, and it is something possible to fail and fake. & as important as it is to promote sexual equality + the pleasure of non-cis-men, lots of people are essentially still working with the idea that men need sexual prowess to have worth but just shifting it slightly so there is more emphasis on women’s pleasure. but I want cis men to think about their partners’ pleasure because they care about their partners, not because they need to check a box in order to keep their man card. and don’t get me started on small dick jokes– and the absolutely pitiful excuse people will use that “well, I don’t believe it, but misogynistic men get upset when I say it, so it’s okay!”

basically bell hooks is so fucking right. in order to create loving men we need to love men, simply for being alive, whether or not they are performing. as much as we need to actively unlearn misogyny (and we do), it’s equally vital we unlearn patriarchal ways of seeing manhood. we can’t just assume that taking a feminist perspective automatically means there is no work to be done there.

[ganondoodle]

i dont know if anyone from not here is awake but .... yesterday i had the idea to perhaps bind the champions 2.0 abilities to the inventory/weapons

(totk rewrite "botw2")

so, for example, yunobos would be tied to a permanent two handed weapon (his signature weapon for example) in your inventory that doesnt break and doesnt need repairing (considering my craft and repair system otherwise) but instead needs recharging to recast the ability somwhat like when the master sword looses its power, but instead it just deals the base or reduced weapons damage (perhaps using the ability function via the throwing mechanic, like the MS swordbeams? or a different way to control it when using that speciffic weapon)

teba/tulins would be either a magic bow or arrow that similarly doesnt break/run out (unsure whether arrow or bow is better)

sidons water shield + heal would be tied to a shield

rijus would be tied to the hookshot, when aiming it thered be a button prompt to switch to send the lightning instead, thought to tie it to this bc i wanted it to be aimable similar to the hookshot and combining them saves you from making yet another aiming system and menu

the idea was that i could also use the tie to a weapon as an explanation for how they give it to you without repeating botw but worse (since in botw they are ghosts of the dead and a spirit knowing how to give an abilitiy tied to their spirit to you is more sensical than your childhood friend that didnt even have an ability at all even after a hundred years time last game suddendly not only mastering one but also somehow knowing how to give it to you within .. 5?) the explanation being that the weapon has been charged with their magic over the course of using it for so long or doing so during the dungeon

(like in yunos case, he was the only one that actually had the ability in botw, he always used a .. stone breaker weapon thing, and he gifts it to you at the end; teba/tulin would discover charging their arrows with magic during it and give you the bow at the end (perhaps them having to pull on the same bow to shoot it during a miniboss fight in the dungeon makes it charged with it); sidon would use your shield to channel his magic in a way to make it useful for you and since hes still new to using it, perhaps he gives you the permanent one at the start of the dungeon bc its the one hes been practising it with and at the end gifts it to you since its charged with it (if you leave the dungeon before beating it hed want it back sicne .. its his practice tool); riju charges your shiekah arm with lighting, like overcharging a device just before it breaks, perhaps discovered accidentally during her dungeon ? so we have a variety and not all work the same ... and overcharging bricks your arm for a short time lol)

the possible downside of this is the menuing, but you dont really have to use all of them all the time (maybe longer cooldown but more powerful anyway just like in botw- also each permanent weapon would be the first in the row) and .. anythign is better than those god awful sage ghost controls of canon totk imo lol

other idea would be that its NOT tied to a specific weapon, but just to the category in general, so when you got a shield out you get an extra button prompt to activate sidons ability (very similar to botws system but giving you the control of activating it or not) BUT that has the issue of lacking the explanation on how they give it to you and the downside of not having anything permanent, and while i like my reworked weapon system, also givign players a permanent thing even if not very powerful sounds kinda right to mitigate those complaints without destroying the system outright

[ygodmyy20]

WIP Teruki angst incoming. I will probably edit this later and will likely post a final version to ao3. But I wanna share the wip. I don't know why but I jusssst want to get it in the world.

What is he doing? 

The rain pelts his skin as he watches Kageyama walk away with the body improvement club. Without their powers they are truly—

No.

He is truly alone.

Teru was defeated. In every sense of the word. 

The rain runs down his bare back, tickling the space between his spine. He could not go home like this. He has to find clothes. Something. Anything. The walk to his apartment is not a short one. 

He turns towards the fully built school and makes his way towards it, mud squelching between his toes. With each step, a weight pulls down his lungs. His throat tickles with a cough and his eyes start to burn. 

He stops at the front door and opens it, the smacking of his bare feet echoing around him as he walks down the tiled hallway. 

Not one locker out of place, not a single crack in the foundation. Kageyama rebuilt the entire school down to the tiniest stain on the wall. The smallest spec of dirt. 

“And here I thought I could defeat him,” Teru mutters to himself, as he turns a corner to the gym. He snorts, rubbing a hand along the top of his head, the shaved part scraping his palm like sandpaper. “I’m such a fool.” 

He opens the gym heading for his locker. He pulls it open, taking out his gym clothes and throws them on. He takes out his spare shoes, slipping them on quickly without socks (as he didn’t have any extras). His dirty toes wiggle uncomfortable in his sneakers. 

But he embraces the discomfort. It is what he deserves after all.

Teru closes the locker and walks out of the school. As he exits, the rain starts to pelt him again. He doesn’t have an umbrella. He will be soaked by the time he gets home. 

Teru pauses at the gate, eyes hazy as they stare down at the rain running down the sidewalk in little streams. 

Home

His apartment. Where he will have to clean his own clothes. His shoes. Wash his hair. Somehow find something to eat. He is dangerously low on food.

Kageyama he… he probably has a family doesn’t he? Teru thinks as he picks up walking again. 

A family who will help him get dry. Have dinner ready. Ask where he has been. Be concerned, be available, just be…

There for him.

Teru continues to trudge forward, letting his skin freeze and his ears burn, ignoring the stares. No one asks how he is, if he is okay, if he is hurt—even as his cheeks are stained with dried blood and his hair is leafing off his scalp.

He is but a pebble in a larger stream. He really was not the main character, was he? This is not his story, is it?

He really is..

No one.

The thought shadows into a knife like the one that cut off his hair, dragging into his chest. Seeping anxiety through his heart.

He is no one. 

Is that really it then? He just succumbs to being no one, to become just a cog in a machine? Is that really the lesson here that Kageyama wants him to learn?

Why does that feel like the wrong answer? 

He makes it to his apartment and he drags himself upstairs. He slides open the door, stepping inside and closes it behind him, cutting off the white noise of rain. 

He stands in his genkan, blue eyes tracing the outline of the wood beneath his feet. His apartment is dark and silent. The only sound is the whirring of the fridge in the far corner. 

“I’m home…” he whispers to himself as he takes off his gym shoes, now filled with mud. 

He takes one step forward when suddenly, the last few hours catch up. Gravity grips him and Teru stumbles backwards, slamming into the front door before his legs give out and he slides to the floor. Lead replaces blood in his veins, weighing down his body into the cold tile. 

His hand grips his mouth as acid lurches, his stomach heating up as he feels the bile start to rise. He chokes it down but the emotions remain. 

I almost killed him….

A mix of a gasp and a sob rips from Terus throat as his nails dig into his cheeks, as if he can keep his stomach at bay. 

He nearly took another’s life. For what? FOR WHAT??

Anger burns in his chest. At himself, at Kageyama for not fighting back, at the gang that left him, at the empty apartment, at the crack in the wall from the last time Claw attacked and and and and and and and and

A scream tears out of this throat, muffled by the hand that stays glued to his mouth. He curls forward into his knees, unable to keep them in—his entire foundation is gone. Flowing out to sea in pieces of broken glass. His fingers bleed as he tries to grab the shards, to pull them back in, to rebuild himself. It is a futile effort. 

He gasps for breath, trying desperately to find air, but it catches in his windpipe, unable to properly inflate his lungs. Teru bites his hand, trying to find some semblance of control, of foundation, so he can at least stand back up. 

Hyperventilating, he tries to breath through teeth clenched around skin, gasps echoing in his empty world. Gasping, dry heaving around the skin. His teeth draw blood.

And then, slowly, ever so slowly, the tension eases. He removes his hand from his mouth, letting it fall to the floor, a bite mark clear on the meaty side of his thumb. He breathes in deep, shudders, before stumbling to standing as he staggers to the bathroom.

He strips his clothes off, tossing them into the corner of the bedroom. He gets the bath started and starts to clean himself off with the shower. Like clockwork he moves through the motions. 

And in the back of his mind he prays that of all the days, today is the day Claw leaves him be. That no one is watching. 

Does Kageyama know about Claw? He thinks as he finishes his wash and moves to the bath. He sinks into the tub, hissing as water meets blisters and torn skin. 

Did they ever attack him? 

He lets himself soak, the tension from the day easing. But the heat (perhaps from the bath?) grows inside him, starting with his chest and moving into his forehead. Pain blossoms behind his eyes.

Would he understand? 

He digs through the cabinets. Nothing but some instant ramen. He sighs, pulling it out and moving through the instructions.

Could we fight them together?

He finishes the ramen as the heat intensifies, like someone is pressing a hot rod to his skull. Teru groans as he fumbles his way to his bathroom, reaching under the sink to pull out a small first aid kit. 

It’s covered in stickers, ones gathered over the years in a futile attempt to make this box hopeful. Perhaps it could replace the feeling of his mom kissing the scrape on his knee. A flicker of sunlight in a storm. 

He scoffs, swearing under his breath as he pops the lid open and digs around it for what he needs. 

Cold patch and extra strength tylenol. 

He pops the medication, chasing it with a gulp of water, before he peels the patch and sticks it to his forehead. The cooling sensation is familiar. In a terrible sort of way. 

Does Kageyama get sick like this…? No, probably not. He is too perfect amazing wonderful powerful to get fevers like I do. 

He sinks under the covers, drawing the duvet up to his chin. Heaves in a breath and then…

Stares. Stares at the ceiling above him, tracing the well known cracks and stains. Stares until his eyes dry out and he has to blink to rehydrate them.

Sounds from around the apartment fill his ears. Some are so loud–have they always been this loud? Like the pipes in his walls, the white noise from the fridge, the AC turning on?

Others layer on top of it. The dog barking down the road. The cars running outside. 

And in the distance, sounds of chatter from his neighbors. Likely having dinner. It’s a family with two little girls. Teru has said hello a handful of times. 

The smell of frying fish and cooked rice wafts into his apartment.

Ah, yes. It is dinner time. 

Another shudder of a sigh escapes his lips and Teru turns under his covers, now staring blankly at his wall. He reaches forward, his fingers pressing and patting around until they find it. The last one. The only one he kept. 

It’s an old lion plush, once a bright cream color, now dull and orange. The stuffing pools in one leg, making it larger than the rest. The mane is patchy, bald spots dotting the little lion's head. Teru lets out a wet chuckle as his fingers wrap around the stuffed animal pulling it close to his chest. He feels so childish. But as his fingers press into soft fur, worn down through the years, it eases some of the tension inside him. 

Unfortunately, they do not keep the flood of fever dreams at bay when he finally falls asleep.

[thekaratcake-blog]

Oh btw, you know I've investigated some of them and they have turned out to be actual scams? Like I've been sent ai generated artwork and shit, there are people doing this probably but there are a lot of people just taking advantage of the Gaza situation to scam people and you're probably spreading a lot of them

Cool feel good message and all but you're out here spreading this sort of "fuck you if you can't donate" message and defending people that would call being able to unable to donate to their fundraiser "dooming someone to death" to get more views

It's nice to think we're doing real good here, but you ever stop to think how these accounts are getting this out to so many other accounts, completely obscure people? Maybe some are doing it by hand but a lot of them are clearly using bots or other automated systems, which btw, aren't free, they're using technology that they shouldn't have access to and costs money, internet that costs money, to ask for a lil bit of food

We are strangers on the internet and I'm sorry if this doesn't make you feel good but there are scammers out there, and there are people out there who are also tight for money in every day life, and there are complex and nuanced situations

Strangers on the internet don't owe others money because the others are saying they're in a worse of situation than we are, otherwise again there are millions of other fundraisers out there that why aren't you donating to? I'm not going to take my time to carefully look through and vet every single one of these, and if they wanted actual verification and if they wanted money to get through properly to the people who need it, they should work with a charity that does that rather than run a thousand gofundmes

You're being scammed, look more into some of these, and you're spreading it to others

i've recently noticed a pattern that i'm not sure that i like. we have hundreds of fundraisers circulating on this site. many of them go without donations for days/weeks. if any fundraiser receives donations, its because the posts stand out/ something very tragic has happened to someone in the family.

for example, the nineteen year old, Shaban Al-Dalou, who was burnt alive a few days ago had a fundraiser. the family only reached their goal after losing that poor boy. i cannot understand why couldn't we have helped him before? i dont know how the family will cope with his loss.

so ask yourself, is genocide not a simple enough reason to donate? or do you need the family to be hit with a tragedy to even consider donating? everyone, i mean EVERYONE in gaza has experienced unimaginable loss and pain and destruction. they've lost their homes, livlihood, friends and family.

humanity has existed for so long because we care. we love each other and are hurt to see others' suffering.

you don't have to wait for tragedy to strike someone to donate. they are going through starvation, forced displacement, and mass murder. please care about this.

do not decrease the meaning of the word genocide. it breaks my heart to see the suffering of the people of gaza at the hands of their colonizers.

I've just got one thing left to say, save my friend mahmoud and his family. they deserve to live just like everyone. help him secure a better future for his family.

donate here || vetted by @gazafunds

[ @mahmoudjumaa1238 ]

[redthemarten]

Three faces of Cerberus

[septimusmoonlight]

You doing ok?

hi

[guardian-angle22]

TK/Carlos + Touch

↳ 4.17 Best of Men

[spacedlexi]

sees vi arcane dressed as a cop and starts vomiting 🤢🤮

[musicalmoritz]

Literally infuriates me whenever someone assumes Hanako is the MC of tbhk just because his name is in the title. I understand if it’s someone who hasn’t read or watched the series but how can you be a tbhk fan and not know Nene is the protagonist??? She calls herself the heroine like a million times, both in the manga and the anime. A titular character is not the same as a main character, Hanako may be the male lead but the series still revolves around Nene. If he were our main character we would follow him on his own adventures and the plot would revolve around his death rather than Nene’s lifespan. Guys. Reading comprehension.

[misiahasahardname]

the public said i should draw myself something self indulgent so here it is!

came out kinda ass but hey, the point wasn’t for it to look good. this is kinda like a birthday present for myself :]

[heartbeetz]

I really hope the game being out + me beating the main story doesn't have the exact opposite effect it should and like... make me LESS fixated on Anton. He's my special guy I love him a lot. But now I'm not constantly going to be checking the surface of my tank for fish flakes (looking for teasers and dev info and stuff), so... idk. Idk. I hope he stays very important to me for a while.

[quietlyblooms]

i was already contemplating this sort of au, but i watched practical magic with my friends tonight and now i'm just!! so very in need of witch chiyo!! witch chiyo who grew up being picked on bc of the reputation her family had, but at least she had her family to turn to. at least she had her ancestors watching over her and perhaps beings not yet known to her, too. at least she had hours spent with her grandmother reading a terribly old tome to her, tales of women and men just like them spoken into the air; they were not to be forgotten, and chiyo keeps those stories close to her heart. she remembers them, thinks of them whenever she utters one of their spells.

i need witch chiyo who, in classic witchy fashion, runs a lil shop of herbs, ointments, teas, and other such things. i need witch chiyo who believes in spirits and higher beings, yet rejects the concept of fate. i need witch chiyo who dismisses very obvious omens that something is coming. i need witch chiyo who fights and thrashes against an every-approaching destiny, be it her own or a loved ones. i need witch chiyo and i need her bad!!!

[auphelia]

Post-writing addition; this is just pure word vomit and lore thoughts that I don't think brings anything new to the discussion

I need to know how Dottore has either set himself out of Irminsul or found a way to retain information that is altered.

I'm more tempted to say the former; but that's based on how he's such a contrast to Nahida and her way of preserving/backing up information being to write fairy tales about it. I'd argue that Dottore must know this method of wrapping things up in imagery and metaphors - this is based on the assumption that Pierro is aware and a whole different string of thoughts I have on Khaenri'ah - but maybe found that to be too unreliable? And I'm having doubts that doing a knowledge capsule thing would work since that's a product of the divine and tied to the Akasha and thus the gnosis. Obviously he could've used this as a model system for creating something similar but outside of Irminsul, but that would mean figuring out how to bypass it in the first place and at that point why not go the whole way and ensure that you in your entirety cannot be manipulated by it?

It's established from winter night's lazzo that the plan is to have Scara obtain a vision ('conquering the divine gaze'), but Scara probably isn't aware of this because then it'd be impossible for him (based on my buddhism theory in which the eye of divinity is either attained after meditation and bestowed by the divine (vision) *or* you use an aid to let you attain that sight (delusion) (please mind that I also read into this distinction that from the perspective of Celestia, the gnosis is 'bestowed by the divine' and visions are the external tools, but I don't think the plan was to have Scara get a gnosis since that would likely require premature awakening of the heavenly principles nor make sense in terms of figuring out how to set humanity free and burn the old world).

Anyway.

Scara.

They are setting him on a path to obtain the 'divine gaze' (if they're even referring to a vision in the first place there) but they can't do like the stellaron hunters and give him a script. The deciding moment would likely never be real enough for him to obtain the vision. There's also the fact that he says "my endless cycle begins" as the shouki no kami

So Scara could be thinking that he will achieve salvation by receiving the gnosis. But what's this endlelss cycle he refers to? It could be eternal rule sure, but why add 'cycle' then? With all the things about Teyvat running in cycles, I can't help but wonder if everything is fabricated as a way to possibly remove Wanderer's connection from Kabukimono's fate (a small scale test on what happens when someone is removed directly from Irminsul instead of by consuming Arle's fires which leave remnants/ashes behind)

All this to say that Wanderer seems like a speedrun test of the possible plan to set humanity free, performed on a particularly resilient subject.

BUT DOTTORE NEEDS A WAY TO FUCKING REMEMBER THIS OR IT'S WORTHLESS DATA

Something from a scientist pov that's always struck me as odd as well is the way he talks to Nahida during their confrontation, the comment about "it's time to tidy up the equipment" is so odd. There's no enthusiasm for the results despite clearly showing that he understands how any outcome of an experiment is still valuable data. It just tells me that the experiment is far from over and that the loss was calculated, the phase where he won't interfere directly is just starting at that point.

And if the segment system was the failsafe for it then killing them off is a major loss. Also, it's stated that Nahida looks into Omega's mind. It made me think that memories were probably removed from Omega before he was sent to Sumeru? No way Nahida would remain that calm if she saw their plans (maybe she didn't have acces to everything although Omega still gives the vibe that he doesn't know what she's seen and is uncomfortable with it - was something placed there as bait for her?) because they must have planned for the possibility that Nahida would get an opportunity to look and it could be a liability if she got insight into everything the Fatui know (unless they're hoping to sway her into doing something or it's a deliberate plot to have something put into Irminsul by her connection to it)

Anyway, I forgot why I started writing this post. Happy Monday. I'm on 6 hrs of sleep since Friday.

[angorwhosebabyisthis]

every time i see someone claim the ancients were a magical indigenous utopia to aspire to (with 'a few little problems'), and any criticism of them as a society is apologia for native genocide, i clutch my head in agony. never change, twitter