#i can't drink much/any alcohol for medical reasons

[a-queer-little-wombat]

Too late, I've already trashed knees, wrists, and eyes. Now what hobbies are left to me?

they should invent a hobby that doesn't require potentially destroying your wrists

[genderqueerdykes]

as someone who has been scarred for life by experiences at gay bars, i need people to understand it's beyond tacky to mock people who want queer spaces beyond queer bars- it's dangerous.

let me explain. i went to 2 of my local queer bars a lot last year, as much as i was able to despite being poor. i witnessed a fist fight that was so bloody that ended up with a transmisogynistic drag queen getting hit in the head with a metal baton. the sight caused me to uncontrollably throw up in the bathroom of the club because of how gruesome it was. they had to close down the club and forard people out the back door because of how out of hand this person got- he was screaming transmisogynstic slurs and phrases at the bouncers were were transfem.

i was also sexually assaulted at these places, i was repeatedly groped by several people who i was not interacting with in the first place who found me attractive and decided physically grabbing me on numerous occasions was the way to get my attention. being femme in a queer bar is dangerous even if the people groping you are gay men.

i am also a recovering addict who dealt with alcohol issues in the past and could be considered a recovering alcoholic. i don't want to be around alcohol. i don't want to smell it. it triggers awful memories and also sometimes makes me consider getting a drink, but i can't have one, because the medications i take will cause a fatal reaction- i don't want to be tempted to drink, because it will kill me.

it's not right to mock someone or call them childish or whatever for not wanting to go to a club. whenever alcohol is involved, people's inhibitions are gone and they will do whatever. this includes fighting. i witnessed several other fights. just because it's a queer bar doesn't mean there won't be fights. and it especialyl doesn't m ean that you won't get groped or assaulted because, like i said, since alcohol is involved and it's a bar, there's a high chance this can and will happen.

queer people are not inherently safe angels to be around by virtue of being queer. there are still transphobes in queer bars. tranny chasers come to these bars. homophobic lesbians show up and lesbophobic gay men show up. drag queens and performers bring their cishet friends and family to support their shows. these are not perfect havens. they are not safe. we should not force other queers to interact with inherently dangerous spaces if these are supposed to be our safe spaces.

also these spaces are not friendly to people with disabilities; wheelchair users have nowhere to go especially when it's very crowded. other mobility aids get kicked and knocked over. neurodivergent people can get overstimulated by the deafening music very quickly. photosensitive people can have seizures due to the strobing lights. people with emetophobia like me run the risk of running into those types of triggers. people who are overstimulated by intoxicated people have no choice but to deal with it. dancing is one of the only activities to do other than drink and not many disabled (or even abled) people can dance for extended periods of time comfortably.

not to mention these spaces are not geared toward aromantic or asexual people at all, either. there is a long list of reasons why bars should not be our primary venues of interaction with one another. they serve a specific purpose- for people who want to cruise- but for the rest of us, it's really crucial that we have spaces that provide meaningful interactions with other queers on other levels of our identities.

some people just want to hang out with other queers in a quiet environment and craft, or shop, or drink coffee, or read books together, or just about any other activity on planet earth, and that's not "lame" or "cringy" or bad in any way- these are extremely normal and necessary parts of human interaction that we all require and crave and it's normal to want to do healthy, domestic things with other queers. we need this in our lives.

please take it seriously when people attempt to create queer spaces that don't involve alcohol and bars. it's necessary for our survival and well being as a community.

[todayisawthewhxlewxrld]

I WANT A HEART TATTOO!

I'LL NEVER GET IT REMOVED!

synopsis// suguru gives you your first tattoo.

➚ pairing// tattoo artist!suguru geto x gn!reader

➚ word count// 2k

contents// friends to lovers, tattooed and pierced geto, reader is a chicken, mentions of drinking, maybe like the ittiest bittiest type of suggestive toward the end...? slightly teasing/cocky geto?

notes// this is kinda cringe but i am cringe and free. also this was inspired by heart tattoo by joyce manor (dont play with me rn.) hoping this will help hold yall off till i can finish the smau...

Geto meticulously cleans up his tattoo station, occasionally stopping to take a swig of the beer you so kindly brought him. 

“You’re quiet.” 

You hum as you take a sip of your own beer. 

He stops and turns around to face you, his eyebrow raised. “Why?” 

“I like watching you clean.” 

Geto laughs. Not just a small one either, but the kind that makes his nose crinkle and his cheeks bunch to the point his eyes are forced closed. You ignore the butterflies in your stomach, blaming it on the alcohol (even if this is only your first beer and definitely not enough to have any sort of effect on you, but you digress). 

“What’s so interesting about watching me clean anyway?” 

You huff, ignoring the increasing heat on your face. “I don’t know... Just shut up and finish cleaning, Suguru. I wanna leave.” 

He smiles and turns back around, continuing to clean. “I told you you could go home.” 

“And leave you to fend for yourself?”

“I’m a grown man.” 

“Whatever… Besides, I can’t drink all these beers by myself.” 

Geto doesn’t say anything, but his shoulders shake slightly with a small, silent laugh, and you can’t help but smile to yourself. You love his little quirks. You always have.

maybe a little too much.

Meanwhile, he picks up his tattoo machine and stares at it. There’s nothing particularly interesting about it; it’s just plain black, freshly wrapped in some black medical tape. 

“Hey Y/N?” 

“Something wrong?” 

He shakes his head and turns to face you again, tattoo machine still in hand. “You still don’t have any tattoos, huh?” 

“Um, no,” you respond sheepishly. “I’m not like scared or anything-“ 

“I wasn’t gonna say that.” 

“Oh. then what were you gonna say?” 

“Can I give you a tattoo?” 

You blink at him. It’s not like you don’t trust him. You trust Geto with your life. You trust him more than anyone or anything in the world. Shit, you might trust him even more than you trust yourself. It’s just…

Geto impatiently groans at your lack of answer. “Oh, cmon, you literally promised me when we were younger that you would let me tattoo you!” 

“That was when we were like twelve!” you scoff, in disbelief he’d throw something as old as that in your face… Maybe he’s been hanging around Gojo too much. 

“Give me one good reason why you won’t let me tattoo you.” 

You frown as you look away, and right away you can hear his footsteps as he places himself in your line of vision again. raising his eyebrows as if to ask, “well?” 

You mumble something under your breath that he doesn’t quite catch. “Y/N, you know I can’t hear you when you do that.” 

“I actually am scared!” you finally say loud enough for him to hear, and it comes out more like a single word than a full sentence.

Geto can't help but giggle, quickly slapping his hand over his mouth, but not even that helps.

“Suguru, this isn't funny; I'm being vulnerable here!”

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he says through stifled laughter before finally calming down enough to clear his throat. “You're right, it isn’t funny,“ he pauses for a moment. ”Wanna know something?”

“What?”

“Getting tattooed scares me too.”

“Liar,” you scoff. “You're covered in them.”

Geto shrugs. “Doesn’t mean it’s not unnerving each time.”

“I just don’t want it to hurt,” you explain with a slight pout.

“It’s a needle going in and out of your skin, Y/N.”

“Exactly!”

“Fine,” Suguru says with a sigh, and you think that's it; he's done, but not even a few seconds later does he speak up again: “What if I said I'll be gentle?”

“Haha.” Your brain immediately short circuits, and the butterflies in your stomach are something you can't blame on the alcohol this time. “Huh.”

Geto laughs softly. “With your tattoo?”

You nod blankly, your brain still not working properly and not yet actually computing what he’s still asking you.

“Yes?” he confirms excitedly.

“Yeah…” Finally, it hits you. “Wait, no! I mean, no. and not to mention you’ve been drinking?”

“Like two sips, Y/N,” he says with a slight pout and roll of his eyes. “You know better than anyone; it takes a lot more than that to get me drunk.”

“Okay, well, what about me? Isn't it bad to get tattoed when you’ve been drinking?”

“Oh my god, just say yes or no. You know I won’t be mad if you decide not to.”

You stare deep into Geto’s eyes, and he’s not lying; he won't be mad. disappointed, sure, but not mad. never mad, never when it comes to you. And right then and there, your conviction crumbles into a million tiny pieces, just dust in the wind.

“…fine”

“fine?”

“You can tattoo me. But!" you exclaim, pointing a finger at him as if lecturing him, “it has to be small! and somewhere where it doesn’t hurt.”

“Okay, I can't guarantee that last part, and you know that,” he says blankly.

You sigh in defeat. “Yeah, I know.”

Geto smiles at you softly and coos, “But I will try,” as he gently caresses your cheek before breaking away and turning around to pull back out the stuff he needs.

You stand there wide-eyed, and your jaw dropped. Geto is affectionate, sure, but he’s never been that affectionate. He couldn’t feel the same way, could he? You shake your head, denying that thought, even despite how hot you feel.

He just did that to comfort you.

That’s all.

He was just trying to be reassuring.

That's it.

At least that's what your brain is trying to say, but your heart is saying another with the way it violently beats against your rib cage.

The minute he turns around, you compose yourself, shutting your mouth and hoping to god he doesn’t notice your chest heaving almost uncontrollably.

Geto pats his tattoo chair. “Sit.”

You hesitate, standing there like a deer in headlights.

Geto clicks his tongue dramatically before grabbing your hand and leading you to his chair, mumbling a reassuring, “Trust me.”

You frown, placidly letting him drag you around like a rag doll. “I do trust you.”

“Then sit.”

And when he says it like that, how can you say no? When he’s staring at you so intently that it’s almost as if he can see right through you, how do you say no? You cant. So you don't. The only thing you can do is—petulantly—plop down into his tattoo chair.

“Sit right and lay your arm on the armrest.”

“No, do it like this.” By ‘this’ you mean with you hunched over and your arm resting on your leg rather than the armrest like Geto is telling you to.

He sighs deeply. "Y/N, your arm resting on your leg is not stable enough. like at all.”

“Do it like this or not at all.”

“Fine.” He raises an eyebrow at you in mild disapproval and says, "But if it comes out bad, it’s not my fault.”

You roll your eyes, unamused. Geto would never let anything he puts on your body come out even remotely bad. “Whatever.”

“Why like this anyway?”

“Because it’s comfortable..?”

Not really.

Like at all.

Actually, this is extremely uncomfortable, and you're sure your back will hate you later, but this gives you the best view of Geto, and that's all you care about.

“Okay, fine,” he says, not bothering to put up much more of a fight before getting in position. “Ready?”

“Yeah…” Not even a second later, you blurt out, “Wait!”

Geto’s head shoots up, his concerned eyes scanning your face intently. “What? What is it?”

You don't say a word; instead, you grab onto his shoulder with your free hand, prepared to claw into it if and when need be.

“Is that why you’re sitting like this?” He asks, a smug smile creeping onto his face as it finally hits him. “You just wanted to hold onto me?”

You nod sheepishly.

Geto smiles. “Are you ready now, then?”

You nod again.

but that's not good enough for him. He wants a real reply. “For real this time?”

“For real this time.”

Geto doesn't miss a beat, and you close your eyes as your face scrunches up in anticipation, your nails already sinking into his shoulder. But the minute the tattoo machine actually meets your skin, you peek one eye open because all you really feel is some vibration and the tiniest of scratches. It doesn’t hurt that bad at all, actually; it’s more than tolerable, and with that, your hand relaxes against his shoulder, still resting on it but no longer gripping him like he’s the only thing tying you to this earth.

It’s not long after that the feeling fades into the background of your mind, like a blur. Being tattooed isn’t even a thought in your brain at all right now. Geto could be tattooing a dick on your arm right now, and you wouldn’t even know because the only thing you can focus on is him.

The only thing you can ever focus on is him, if you’re being honest.

But right now, something is different. Seeing him in his element makes your knees go weak, and you’re grateful for the fact that you’re sitting. and suddenly you don’t know why you’ve never let him tattoo you sooner. You’d let him tattoo you a thousand more times if it meant you got to see him like this. He somehow makes the way he focuses look like art—from the way his brows are knitted together in concentration to the way he absentmindedly bites and fiddles with his lip piercings—it’s all art; he makes it look too beautiful. like he’s more modeling and pretending to focus than actually doing it. You involuntarily let out a deep, longing sigh, your eyes fluttering close in the process.

Geto’s gaze flits up to your face. “You're not about to pass out on me, right?”

You open your eyes and meet his gaze with a small, content smile on your face. “No, I'm fine, Suguru.”

“I mean, if you were, that would be fine too, because I'm done,” he replies, turning off his tattoo machine and moving away from you.

“Already?!” you ask, slightly shocked. It didn't feel like it had been that long.

“Yeah,” he says plainly as he stands up and starts quickly cleaning up his workstation once more. "Don't know what you were so scared of, dork.”

You open your mouth, ready to say something sarcastic or explain yourself, but before the words can even leave your mouth, before you can even think of them, Geto is turning back around to face you and cupping your chin in between his index finger and thumb.

Geto leans down at the same time he tilts your head up and places a chaste kiss on the corner of your (still open) mouth, cooing, “You took it so well.”

All you can do is laugh nervously. “What?” You're still giggling; you don't think you could do much else at this point. “What was that- Why did you just-“

Geto starts laughing along with you, except it’s not a defense mechanism for him; he’s just finding this all too amusing. “You didn't think I gave you a heart for no reason, did you?”

You quickly look down at your arm, the action ripping your chin out of Geto’s hold. “You gave me a heart,” you say absentmindedly, and it sounds more like a question than an actual statement.

“Are you just now noticing?” he asks, returning his hand to your chin and gently guiding you to look up at him again. “I thought you were watching the whole time.”

You swallow sharply, becoming acutely aware of how close his face is to yours again. “I was watching something the whole time, but it was not the actual tattoo.”

“Oh? and what was so much more interesting?”

“Mind your business-“

Geto barely even lets you finish your snarky remark before leaning in and kissing you again. except this time for real. except this time you kiss back.

and suddenly tattoos don’t seem so bad anymore, so long as they all end like this.

©TODAYISAWTHEWHXLEWXRLD

[adripakoffee]

Hold on and let me yap about my goat Swansea rq (not rq, this is almost 2k words lol)

CW: SUBSTANCE ABUSE, MOUTHWASHING SPOILERS

I'm gonna use "probably" and "most likely" a lot in this because so much of this game is from Jimmy's perspective and he dgaf about Swansea until close to the end.

Okay, so Swansea is first and foremost, a very tired, very ragged mechanic who's probably pushing 60. He doesn't want to be on that ship. He doesn't want anything. He wants, at least at first, to just be done with this job and get paid. He respects Curly but he's annoyed by and dismissive of everyone else on the ship, especially Daisuke.

So much of Swansea's character is reliant on and paralleled to his relationship with Daisuke. When he meets Daisuke, Daisuke is happy and optimistic. He looks forward to things and tries to impress Swansea when Swansea doesn't want help.

The main reason Swansea doesn't like Daisuke ties into his alcohol abuse. Daisuke is always, at almost every point we see him pre Anya locking herself in medical, happy and energetic. Swansea hates this about him because that's a state of being he hasn't achieved, in his own words, in 15 years. He can't imagine being that happy while sober and it pisses him off. He's half jealous because of that and half jealous because Daisuke is young and has a long life ahead of him. Swansea does not like the life he built for himself while sober, but that's for later. Especially after they get laid off, the only one who has anything ahead of them was Daisuke. Swansea would have trouble getting another job both because of his age and because a lot of things on Earth were being automated.

Of course, after the crash, that jealousy becomes something else. Because Daisuke is the only one who has anything ahead of them, he's the only one whose life matters. Swansea loves his family, but he doesn't really like them. He's most likely worked with Pony Express the longest, so he knows they most likely won't be saved. They have one chance left, one cryopod for one person. He's saving it for Daisuke because Daisuke is only one with a chance.

Now bringing up Anya. I think it was 2 months in when Anya told him about Jimmy. Here I'd like to correct some things I said in other posts. In my Anya rant I said "He has the one last working cryo pod set aside for her specifically and refuses to let anyone into the room where it is." He felt bad for her, no doubt, but he probably doesn't actually do that. He, more likely, tells her "Hey, there's actually a crypod left. I'm saving it for Daisuke. It's not like either of us have things waiting on the other side of this." Swansea isn't responsible for Anya in the way Curly was. He respects her well enough as coworkers but they're not at all close. He doesn't feel any real need to put her in priority, especially with the dire situation at hand. I don't think he doesn't care, it's just not something he sees in his jurisdiction. And I'm not saying there's nothing he could've done. Had literally anyone at any point in the game killed Jimmy, a lot of problems would be fixed. But, unlike Curly, Swansea doesn't have as many options.

When they open the cargo hold and he starts drinking again, he rediscovers happiness. I'd actually like to apologize for something quickly. I made a short comic in which Swansea comforts Anya after she tells him about Jimmy (which he doesn't actually do, smh bro) and in the caption I had said "I love you sm Swansea I wish you weren't an alcoholic 😔" (It's also my most popular fanart on here and I'm very thankful for that ^^)

I don't blame Swansea for his alcoholism. It's an addiction just as much as anything else and no one should have to go through that. I personally though have had bad experiences with alcoholics and I'm generally uncomfortable around them. I definitely worded that caption poorly and I apologize for that, but I had meant it in an "I wish you were sober" way. I know that the caption had rubbed people the wrong way, so I wanted to apologize.

So Swansea is drunk and happy for the first time in fifteen years. Despite his intoxicated state, he still has his one goal and that's to save the last cryopod for Daisuke. He knows that's what he wants and he sticks to it. It's just him and the ax against the world. Eventually, Jimmy takes the ax to get the extra painkillers and the ax kinda just disappears for a while. Like I have no idea where it went but Swansea has it again by the time he offs Daisuke.

Speaking of which, Swansea kills Daisuke. Framing-wise it's probably my favorite scene in the game, like the breathing and Swansea's speech. Chat, I love this scene. Anyways, Jimmy offers Swansea a drink as a "peace offering." Swansea is never sober at this point in the game but even he can appreciate a good cocktail, especially when he's been slogging mouthwash for months. Honestly, he doesn't trust Jimmy like AT ALL at this point, but Daisuke helped him with the cocktail.

Swansea is kinda putting his hopes in Daisuke. Like obviously, he's placing hope in Daisuke's survival, but I think he's also seeing this optimistic, bright-eyed kid who's struggling as himself at the start of his sobrity. Daisuke said that the reason he got this job was because he was directionless in life. He had nothing to look forward to and no goals. The difference between him and Swansea is Daisuke's parents got the job for him and Swansea had to do it himself. So in that way he started to appreciate how happy Daisuke was, which is more reason to hate that he's there.

Swansea passes out from the cocktail and when he wakes up Anya is dead and Daisuke is in critical condition. Anya's gone which means they're out of a medic so that makes Daisuke's situation a lot worse. But because Jimmy used the Isopropyl to knock out Swansea, they're out of disinfectant. They have to use mouthwash which is established early on to have too much sugar to be disinfectant. So they kinda made it worse because Swansea and Jimmy are idiots who didn't listen to Anya. After a few hours of Daisuke slowly bleeding out, Swansea mercy kills him. it. looks. so. cool. During this speech, Swansea says something along the lines of "Stick a kid with a bunch of sad-sack adults and see what he learns. Bootstraps and all that." He really hates that Daisuke is here, it's just that the reason has changed. Before the crash, Curly and Daisuke were the only two who weren't like clinically depressed. After the crash, only Daisuke can find it in himself to stay optimistic, but even his faith is dwindling (Jimmy is optimistic too, but that's because he's crazy).

Right after that, he chases Jimmy around with the ax until Jimmy ties him up and shoots him. This is when Swansea lore drops about himself. He explains that he literally has not been happy or enjoyed his life in 15 years. He's done everything he's supposed to when it comes to leading a good, healthy life, but it's not at all fulfilling. He hates his job, he doesn't look forward to seeing his family, he just killed the last speck of joy on this metal space coffin, and he has nothing to live for. He's already fallen back into addiction so even if he got back to Earth, he'd ruin his life all over again. He'd be happy, but his life would be ruined. And then Jimmy shoots him.

Now here's a little health fact! Swansea was dying the whole game. People suffering from alcohol abuse often end up drinking Listerine when other alcoholic drinks aren't available. Now I'm just speculating and projecting, but Swansea is definitely a beer guy, that's his go-to. His tolerance suggests he was a craft kinda guy (which has an ABV between 5 and 10% (idk this is from memory)) or someone who drank a lot really quickly, but the mouthwash was 14% ethanol. That, in and of itself isn't the main problem, though it is noteworthy that he was already drinking more than usual. The main problem is that drinking mouthwash will absolutely destroy your stomach and intestinal linings. Mouthwash isn't just alcohol and flavoring, there's other chemicals in it too. On a good day, you'll get a nasty stomach ache, but you'll live. One to many though, and you are dead or in a coma. Like no joke that will kill you, especially if you drink a lot of it in such a short amount of time. That's why they keep saying "that stuff will kill you before anything else will," because it's actively killing them. Swansea probably knew this but he's prone to self-destruction so he probably didn't care. Anyway, hope you enjoyed that little health fact, I love reading medical journals ask me anything.

While writing this, I paused and started scrolling on tiktok and I saw a video where someone was complaining about the sudden villainization of Swansea in the fandom. I've literally seen nothing like this, but in the video they said one of the critiques people had of Swansea was that he was just as bad as Curly for not doing anything about Jimmy. That's insane, that is a batshit crazy take and I rebuke it. For one, Swansea was never Jim's friend. He never set people up to be victimized by Jimmy, he never enabled Jimmy's behavior or tried to comfort him when he was the problem. This was just a crazy thing to say, please learn to comprehend thing beyond the main text.

Um.. uh... conclusion paragraph, I love Swansea and I love to pretend he was more proactive against Jimmy for Anya's sake, but he wasn't so it's whatever he's not real anyway. I feel like this ended up being really long, like longer than the other two but idk.

Here's the link to the Anya rant and the Curly rants I also did, that I should probably edit upon further reflection

[melatonin-melanin]

jirai kei as a trend and the inherent ableism and racism present within it

if you've been present in any japanese fashion or vtuber spaces for the past few years, chances are you've most likely heard of jirai kei. it's gotten major media attention in japan, and inevitably its popularity has spread overseas. what is still misinterpreted about it, however, is that jirai kei is a fashion style. jirai kei is a stereotype, as well as a subculture that features fashion elements. as opposed to the fashion aspects, the focus of the subculture is mental illness, and many people use the jirai tags and labels to find those with similar struggles and interests. you can learn more about the recent history of jirai kei as a stereotype here, and the fashions associated with jirai kei here.

jirai kei as a stereotype is bad for a multitude of reasons, but there are many people who seem to think that there's nothing wrong with the trend itself. i've seen many arguments in favor of it, ranging from "if brands are using it, that must mean the term isn't that bad" to "plenty of japanese girls are using it to only refer to the fashion, and they don't actually lash out at others or self-harm." its usage by brands and everyday people are true, and that much cannot be argued. the problem comes from assuming that, because it's something widespread in japan, it can't possibly be as bad as people make it out to be. if this trend were to come from anywhere else, i'm almost certain that people would immediately question the morality of it for several reasons. this is going to be a long post, so i hope you have some time.

TW for mentions of self-harm, alcohol and drug abuse, and child sex trafficking below the cut.

a brief rundown of jirai kei's origins

to start, jirai kei's original coinage before the trend has existed since around the 90s. it was used by misogynistic men to refer to women who they believed exhibited signs of emotional instability. this was applied to completely harmless traits, and the criteria for someone being a landmine has drastically changed over the years. for example, the first common identifier was simply "a girl who looks put together." this sexist usage still extends to present times, but now it's often conflated with the current aestheticized definition of the term.

the source of the current iteration of jirai kei

the modern-day jirai kei stereotype comes almost entirely from a gang known as the toyoko kids, who reside in kabukicho. this gang contains many members ranging from ages 9 to 24 who have run away from their homes and families. they have been known for several activities, but the most publicized ones are cutting themselves in public circles, papa katsu (underage prostitution), heavily drinking, and overdosing on over-the-counter medications. majority of the gang members also wear japanese alternative fashions, with girly kei being the fashion that's most often present in the jirai kei stereotype.

where does the ableism come in?

the rise of the aesthetic trend peaked somewhere in 2020, where a "landmine makeup challenge" gained popularity online and resulted in various people attempting to mock and mimic the stereotype for clout. people would wear girly fashion, act "wild" or "crazy" on camera, and, at worst, pretend to cut their wrists or even use makeup to create fake self-harm scars. i don't believe i need to explain why faking self-harm for views is ableist. however, the ableism is also present in the supposed "lighter" aspects of the trend, particularly its sudden association with girly fashion.

during the height of jirai kei's popularity in japan, many brands had begun to sell pink x black girly coordinates, advertising them as jirai kei fashion. it's incredibly important to note that girly as a fashion has existed for several years prior, and that multiple people had already been wearing clothing that's abruptly being labeled jirai. as a result, you have all of these random people minding their business suddenly being labeled as "crazy psycho bitches" because of the clothes that they wear. as if that isn't enough, some brands went as far as to promote the more dangerous aspects of the stereotype as well. with attempts to pander to girls who are deemed "yandere" and "highly explosive," many shops, online influencers, and companies had directly and indirectly capitalized on the suffering of the toyoko kids by encouraging people to cut their wrists, manipulate their partners, binge drink, and lash out at others to engage in the "full landmine experience."

mental illness in japan is almost never taken seriously because it's seen as a personality flaw rather than something that needs treatment. the jirai kei trend only set back any progress made for mental health acknowledgement in society, as people perceived as landmines began to be harassed for wearing girly fashion. more girls were approached by men on the street trying to scout them for prostitution, and people gave away their wardrobe because "others assumed they were troublesome" for wearing it. from another perspective, the anti-recovery nature of the trend has also taken lives. some people who felt that they identified with the term had fully embraced the lifestyle that was commercialized and promoted as something "cute and fun," resulting in more people running away from home to be like the toyoko kids. these people, who have essentially been failed by the system, are simultaneously fetishized and shunned for the fact that they're struggling.

well, what about the racism?

the racism present in the jirai kei trend, from what i've seen, mainly comes from overseas communities. the perception that many people have of jirai kei tends to have its roots in orientalism. if you've ever witnessed how people tend to glorify japan in almost every context, this shouldn't be too surprising. what's concerning, however, is that much of this glorification of jirai still goes unacknowledged by the western j-fashion community.

when jirai kei gained popularity in japan's mainstream, people mistook the name of the stereotype for the name of the fashion. this mindset also translated over to western spaces without a second thought. as a result, when jirai kei as a stereotype was formally introduced to overseas j-fashion communities, some were confused and oddly adamant. it seemed like people thought, "there's no way that japan would endorse something so horrible. there has to be different explanations!" regardless of whether this idea was conscious or subconscious, it had begun what people now call "jirai discourse" in the community. many arguments were made in favor of using jirai kei to refer solely to girly fashion, as opposed to recognizing its origins and continuous usage as a derogatory term. an especially common viewpoint that's perpetuated is that jirai kei has been reclaimed or is in the process of being reclaimed, which is something that has several things wrong with it.

problems with thinking that jirai is "reclaimed, so it's fine to use"

firstly, reclamation is subjective. the assumption that the entirety of a minority group makes the unanimous decision to reclaim a term is frankly just implausible. even more popular words that are thrown around more casually nowadays are still debated in some circles on whether or not they should be used. for a term like jirai kei, something fairly recently coined and undoubtedly controversial in most contexts, the mere idea of reclamation amongst anyone would have to take a much longer time, and that's only if the stereotype starts getting taken seriously.

secondly, the only people who have the right to consider reclamation are the people who are directly affected by the usage of this term, which would be feminine-presenting native japanese people who are mentally ill. people overseas have argued in favor of reclaiming the term despite not being a part of the group that the term is actually used against. this is not something where you can take apart the criteria and suddenly claim that you're also affected by jirai kei's usage. for a comparison that may be easily understood, that's like if a nonblack woman tried to advocate for the reclamation of the "mammy" stereotype, which stereotypes and therefore only affects the perception of black women. just because both groups consist of women, that doesn't mean they have the exact same experience with the stereotype in question, even if they happen to resonate with some aspect of it. unless you've grown up in japan as someone afab and/or feminine-presenting and have struggled with mental health, it's nearly impossible to fully identify with the extent of jirai kei's harm because it's occurred in such a specific set of circumstances to a specific group of people. the only thing that should be done in this case is doing your research on the affected group, which you can do by looking into the history of the toyoko kids and some of the individual stories of the members. that way, you can at least attain a better understanding of their perspectives and connect the effects of jirai kei to their struggles.

lastly, it is not reclaiming to simply use the term for yourself. this tends to be where the idea of jirai kei being reclaimed comes from, because many japanese girls on social media use the term to refer to themselves as well. in these instances, there are typically two separate reasons: one, the person is pretending to be a landmine for clout; or two, they genuinely identify with the derogatory meaning of the term. the latter is often the case, since there's not many other ways for people in japan who are mentally ill to find groups for themselves. when it comes to reclamation, it's important to remember that it's not simply using a word that was used against a group that you're a part of. reclaiming is about actively working to change a term's meaning into a neutral or positive context for the benefit of the group. none of these girls are doing that. there's no big effort in japanese landmine spaces to move the perception of being a landmine away from things like girly kei fashion, idol fan culture, or toxic behaviors, which leads me to the final section of this post.

it is not anyone's job to push for the "reclamation" of jirai kei.

i put reclamation in quotes because, although some genuinely may not have ill intentions, many people come off as having a "white savior" mindset as opposed to actually wanting to reclaim the term in any sense (which, as mentioned before, is not the right of just anyone), and it's usually for the sake of enjoying girly fashion without feeling bad for incorrectly calling it jirai kei. one of the defenses often used to propose that being seen as a landmine can actually be a good thing is that the people who do self-harm and abuse substances are simply "bad apples" in the landmine community. if they're not treated as the dirty underside, then they're seen as things to be pitied and sympathized with, but with the quick disclaimer of "don't worry though, not all landmines are like this!"

not only is this incredibly ableist, but this assumption being made by mainly white influencers is also rooted in the historical development of racism against asian people, particularly in the united states. if you've heard of the model minority myth, one of the biggest issues with it is that it heavily generalizes asian people as being well-mannered, good-natured, and upstanding citizens. as a result, anyone who seems to fall out of this generalization is deemed an "untrustworthy foreigner" and appears as nonexistent through a romanticized lens. this exact situation can be applied to how people tend to treat the issues surrounding the jirai kei trend. the japanese girls who are faking and/or making fun of mental instability for the sake of online popularity are suddenly being glorified as these ideal representations of jirai kei to be palatable to the western world. meanwhile, the people who are considered by many to be part of the lowest rungs of society and are actually getting this term thrown at them pejoratively are treated as an afterthought and not representative of what people overseas want jirai kei to mean. it's even to the extent where native japanese people using girly kei or being uncomfortable with jirai kei are immediately assumed to be faking their ethnicity or their japanese-speaking skills, something that many foreigners have actually done in an attempt to claim authority over jirai kei's usage. since the reality of the trend is so uncomfortable to many, people think that it's best to simply disregard it or dumb down its impact when that changes nothing. what has avoiding the topic of discrimination and fetishization ever done for anyone?

the last thing i want to point out is that, even if reclamation of the term was in progress, it would not be happening the way that some seem to think it is. if the term was being reclaimed, we would not have people (both overseas and in japan) still acting like the stereotype for tons of likes, namely by taking pictures of themselves in girly kei next to cans of pink monster while sitting on the sidewalk with someone handing them money. that is an actual image i've seen, and if that doesn't tell you that there's a problem, i'm not sure what else will.

[tillthelandslide]

For Better or For Worse - Ross MacDonald One Shot

Taglist: @scooby-doodoo @thereisaplaceintheheart @promocodesorry75 @eaglestar31 @thefrontofmymind @fallingforel @partoftheairforce @procrastinatinglikeapro @poisonmedaddy13 @xthe1975 @all-things-fic @jstbeeingme @rossgirly @juliardk @you-muppet @moodyyyychickx @k4tie75 @friedlandblog @insidemymind19 @zzzhealy @at-her-very-foreign (add yourself using the link in my bio 😊)

You stand anxiously at the side of the stage, Joel is next to you, although he leaves occasionally when Ross needs a different bass, but soon enough he's back by your side. You're thankful he's here, his shoulders graze yours and it's enough comfort to ease you slightly. The real comfort you need is performing on the stage in front of you. You know he'd also be thankful that Joel has stepped in to give you some support.

Joel watches as you wince when Ross does, how you suck in air through your teeth when pain covers his face. Your eyes rarely leave the blue band wrapped around his bicep, only flicking down to his hand when he flexes it, another thing causing him trouble as of late.

"What does the tape do again?" You ask Joel, probably the 10th time you've asked him. He isn't a medical professional by any means, but Ross has told him what the medics had told him, so he could tell you, knowing you'd worry.

"it prevents the overstretching and over contracting of injured muscles to stop his injuries getting worse" he says, sounding as if he had memorised it from a book.

You watch as Ross flinches again and you copy him "it's clearly not working". The song comes to an end and he flexes his hand again. You know Joel needs to give Ross a different bass but you stop him momentarily.

"Can you give him these?" You say, fishing the painkillers his doctor gave him out of your bag and popping two pills. Joel smiles before leaving you, bass (and painkillers) in hand.

You watch as Ross smiles a weak smile at you, walking over to his drink, which is usually some type of alcohol but is now replaced with water, and he takes the tablets. You feel slightly better after that, enjoying the show for a little while, your husband looking less pained.

But it's not long until it creeps back over his features and you sigh.

"What he needs it rest..." You hear behind you, turning to see Jamie who smiles before he hugs you.

"Rich coming from the guy that's got them fully booked until next March" you say but despite your words he laughs, knowing they didn't have venom behind them.

"Wasn't counting on him to get an injury" he says and you can tell he too is worried.

"He's still amazing though don't you think?" Jamie nods. He never falters despite being in pain and being injured and you feel proud watching him. But you are worried for him.

"He's resting as much as he can and he's taking his painkillers as prescribed and the tape seems to be helping" Jamie says but before he's gotten his words out you both watch as Ross removes the tape. You don't know why, perhaps it's irritating him, but whatever the reason is, it doesn't stop you from silently scolding him.

You wait until the very end of the show, watching him walk to the other side of the stage and waving to the fans there before he comes back to your side. He walks towards you with a smile, but he looks exhausted. Despite being a little mad at him you open your arms so he can step into them. He leans down to tuck his head into your neck and you place a kiss on his cheek.

"Did amazing sweetheart" you say and he hums against you.

"Let's get you back to the bus, we can put ice on your arm" you say and he pulls back to smile at you.

"What would I do without you hmm?" He asks and you chuckle, hand coming up to brush the stray hairs away from his slightly sweaty face.

"Fester" you say and he chuckles.

He wraps his arm around your shoulders but you hear him wince and remove it immediately.

"Fuck sake, can't even hold my girl" he exclaims, annoyed with the whole situation. You pout at him, feeling truly sympathetic towards him, not wanting him to be in any sort of pain ever, but knowing that wasn't realistic.

"Come here" you say, leaning up slightly and kissing him softly before gently rounding his other side and taking his other injured hand in yours. He smiles at you and you walk to the bus.

You offer to help him shower but he insists he can do it himself (after much rebuttal from you). Whilst he's in there you read up about other ways to help him. You help him get changed into a baggy jumper reading that tight clothing can make muscle injuries worse. You bring an ice pack wrapped in a towel to his arm and hold it for him, he smiles at you whilst you do, noting how concentrated you are. You hold it there for a while, whilst you speak about various things.

"Okay I was reading up ways to help you and it says to elevate your arm" you say and he slowly lifts it, resting it on the back of the sofa behind your head, quietly flinching at the pain that shoots up to his shoulder. But once he's still the pain dissipates and he's back to smiling at you.

"Thank you for doing this love" he says, leaning down to kiss you gently.

"You're welcome... For better or for worse, in sickness and in health right?" You say and Ross chuckles.

"Don't remember you saying that in your vows love... I vividly remember you saying you promise to always give me Guinness, to never make me explain football.... Oh and there was something about telling everyone I'm the hottest member of the 1975" you jib his stomach lightly at his jesting not expecting him to chuckle which in turn makes him flinch.

"shit" he swears at the new onslaught of pain.

"Ross I'm so sorry" you say, rising up slightly, eyes never leaving him to make sure he's okay.

"I'm okay love, I'm okay" he swears, hand pulling you back closer to him. "This is kicking my butt a little bit huh?" He asks and you nod as you frown at him. "Got you to look after me though hmm?" You nod "my little nurse" that makes you chuckle.

"I could get an outfit if you'd like" you say and he physically has to hold back his laughter to stop himself from hurting more.

"Love you're killing me here" he says with a soft chuckle pressing his lips to your head.

"Some wife I am..." You say as you sink to his chest.

"Shh don't say that... You're the best, all worried about me and looking up ways to help me" he says, pressing another kiss to your head.

"Well we can't have you making yourself worse and not being able to perform" you say and feel him nod above you. You crane your neck to look at him and he briefly leans down to kiss you.

"I know love..." He says.

"Besides, we gotta make sure Daddy's fit and healthy as can be when baby macdonald arrives" you say and it makes him smile widely, his left hand moving to rest against your bump. Gone are the days where that singular word would make him smirk like a schoolboy, gone are the days where that word would make him hold in his laughter. The word now, 4 months in, makes him smile widely and his heart swells in his chest, heart beating rapidly, looking forward to the day when his little girl says the same word.

"That we do" he says, the baby kicks against his palm, so attuned to her father.

"Although I'm convinced you'll always be fit" you say and he chuckles again.

"Even when I'm grey and old?" He asks.

"Especially then" you say. He laughs loudly, his whole body shaking, arm hurting him again.

"Think you're going to have to go away if you keep making me laugh love" he says, making you pout.

"I'm joking, my love" he says with a kiss to your lips.

"I swear to god if Matty changes the setlist one more time and makes you play something hard I'm going to kill that man" you say and Ross shakes his head as he smiles.

"We wouldn't want that... Who would be baby Mcdonalds godfather then?" He says, chucking at the way you exhale deeply.

"Literally anyone else Ross..." You say and he smiles.

"I love you so much" he says.

“I love you too, now hold still' you say, placing the ice back onto his arm. The pain eases from his face again and you smile, glad it's helping.

[aristocrating]

hot take: this fandom has a problem with glamorizing jack and kent's addictions

oh. OH. now THIS.

there is soooo much to be said about how jack's addiction is treated at large, as well as the implication that kent would probably have his own problems with addiction (which is complete fanon, but i think it's realistic to consider that)

i've seen this come in several flavors:

1) glossing over it entirely, where it's just ignored. if you write fanfic and you just adapt out the fact that jack is an addict because it's a sensitive subject for you or you have trouble handling it well, sure. more power to you. work with what you got. i will say that a LOT of people seem to not really grasp the ramifications of how addiction works, but neither does the comic so this one is just to be expected. just like, educate yourself. howEVER, i do think it's a real and important part of jack's character and just conveniently forgetting it or going "oh he's fine now, he just drinks at parties now" is WILD to me. not how it works. ask any person who's ever been personally affected by struggles with addiction. he would be dead. or hospital-bound. it's not fun, it's not cute. do your research.

2) the most insidious take i've seen (waaay too often): oh yes jack or kent has a problem with medication and alcohol, but he's not a REAL addict. yes it's bad but it's not like THOSE people. there will be a whole narrative about people calling him a cokehead because it's wrong, he never did any REAL drugs. he's one of the Good Ones. DO YOU HEAR YOURSELF? DO YOU FUCKING HEAR YOURSELF RIGHT NOW? keep your moralistic puritanical bullshit out of here. "jack would never do that! he would never do drugs!" okay, and what if he did? would you view him as less valuable as a character then? would you automatically dislike him more based on that fact alone? what do you think this implies about the way society treats people with addiction problems? why do you think people asign a hierarchy of moral value to what drugs someone consumes and who counts as a "real" addict? on my desk by monday. jfc.

3) and last but not least, glamorizing drug problems. it's a conglomeration of the previous two points i think, people don't know how to handle the issue of addiction well and also asign moral value to it. personally i think i've seen it come up especially in stories of pimms in juniors or kent's rookie year where he does drugs to cope. and let me just tell you. there is nothing fun or glamorous about it. addiction is taxing for everyone involved. it makes you feel like shit because you lose all sense of control and you also get judged for it from every side. it's a tiring process, it's sloggish and monotonous, you're trapped in cycles of frenzied rushes of substance abuse you can't enjoy, followed by excrutiating boredom that turns into an itch to consume again. it's uncomfortable. it's annoying. it makes you abandon all self-preservation you have because the pain of living becomes more and more unbearable all while your body tricks you into thinking there's only one thing that can alleviate it. and it's so easy to think portraying drugs as glamorous is somehow being supportive, but really you're just being condescending. and ignorant. the only reason i can think of why someone would want to glamorize this is if you're an addict yourself and you're using stories about addiction to cope. in that case, sure. do what you have to to get through it somehow. and everyone else, i implore you once again to think about why people asign moral value to addiction. what is to gain from it? who profits? who is exploited?

i understand struggling to portray addiction well. i understand not wanting to be confronted with it in fandom. i even understand being uncomfortable with it when being confronted with it, because it IS a scary subject. at the same time, i also wish more people understood what addiction is like and why it's important to handle it well in fiction and fandom.

this comic truly took the messiest possible route by introducing a character who explicitly suffered from an overdose and monitors his alcohol intake to... what exactly? what was the point of all that if it was going to be sweeped under the rug? why have a character who opens the door for such a big subject matter only for it to just not be relevant? i'm not saying the author had the intention of glamorizing addiction, but it does leave the unfortunate implication that jack only overdosed for a jab at an angsty plot line, the aesthetics of it, so i'm not surprised parts of the fandom would run with that.

one of the reasons i was drawn to jack's character is because i personally have experiences with alcoholism and addiction and i was surprised to see it come up in such a medium, and i was happy to have an in on the conversation. and it's sooo important to me that treating people with addiction as humans who are deserving of compassion becomes normalized and that the complexities and nuances of addiction are understood. unfort the comic did none of that though, so here we are /shrug

i think you're right and you should say it, 10/10 take, fucking educate yourself peeps

🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥🔥

[katyspersonal]

Personal stuff from work

I think I am going to leave this job and seek another one. I don't know how I am going to pull this off with my absurd medical expenses recently, but this is just impossible to work here anymore!!! I actually should be at work right now, but I went back home crying, just. straight up left

Remember that story about an ex worker who constantly got at work drunk and snapped at everyone for smallest reason? Where one time he came at work so full of vodka the smell was all over the office, got super angry at smallest things and screamed at the boss and her vice that he would "smash her face with the keyboard if she doesn't shut up" before other workers and customers? And everyone was either scared or passive, but I straight up told him that he should just go home and sleep instead of getting in THIS state at work and causing god knows what? That resulted in the day worth of him distracting me from working bullying me like 'lmao are you feminist or something?!', 'have you believed in yourself or something?!' etc etc, that progressed in a STUPID verbal fight where he kept saying dumb shit, I was objecting, he was yelling at me to shut up, I objected that if he wanted me to shut up he should not have prompted the discussion with dumb shit to begin with etc etc etc.. That then ended in physical fight too, while all coworkers who were much more capable and strong than me just hid like rats and let me fight him alone 🤦‍♂️

Or another story, kinda recent, where another coworker smashed my head against the deck from a likewise long verbal argument that started from her genuinely giving customers and us troubles by refusing to do her job right and me pointing it out? There were a lot of threats prior, like throwing a can in my face if I don't shut up, when she genuinely was wrong and refused to take request from the boss over stupid petulant reasons? (by the way later after that situation turned out that she also did fight with THE boss physically before, and with one of the regular customers that sued her later)

It is more like 'three times is a charm' situation because today something very similar happened, and with a DIFFERENT person again. She has been working here for a while, and also had problems with alcohol and such, but after previous boss left the job and new one arrived she befriended her a lot. That resulted in them constantly dumping all work on me while they CONSTANTLY leave to smoke, drink at the work place (!) or bring their stupid equally alcoholic friends at the office (!!!) 🤦‍♂️ However, today was ANOTHER time where she was STUPID late at work all because she got drunk shitless yesterday (also at work while I was left with customers alone).. I addressed that, and... yeah, you guessed it, more insults, yelling, threats of physical violence etc followed. This time we surprisingly did not end up in a fight, I kinda just ran away..

Like, this workplace feels like abusive relationship I know, I just bothered to carry on because it is stupid hard to find a job in my city.. But I swear they hire any sort of deranged, violent, stupid people without even a minimal check fdhfdhs These are just the three I've had open fight with! And in each and every situation it is basically 'a person who is like 50, the third one is 60 wants to beat up a frail young girl for pointing out something that was GENUINELY wrong while other coworkers are either passive or claim that the girl is insane and inadequate in this situation' 🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️🤦‍♂️ I am dead serious, the third parties always act like /I/ am the bad person here for pRoVoKiNg (if this is what you call seeing a bad thing and saying it is bad). And also for "arguing"??? Bitch you say the dumb shit that makes no sense and expect me to stay silent or how that Tweet went

I just really can't work with these idiots anymore. Though to think of it, it isn't just here.. to look back on it, all my enemies happen specifically because I point out something genuinely wrong about them and they can't take the L. When I am not like, holding them at the gunpoint or posing any threat to them (looking at YOU, online cancel-culture mobs who might THINK you can relate!!!). Heck, my worst online drama happened all because someone in the fandom straight up bullied another fan and I jumped in to obliterate them with facts and logic for that behaviour, and not the "noble fight" reasoning they ended up making up to justify harassing me. It is not like I am some noble fighter for justice ffs!!! I am just a kicked stray dog that barks at the things it doesn't like, I won't and CAN'T make any change in this world. But it is always enough to end like this. I just can't play by this world's rules at all if you are supposed to "just ignore" people who are so deranged. By this logic I could also keep everyone in fear with threats and inadequate reaction to objective, non-threatening, justified criticism, but I am not doing this!!

At the same time, hating petty bitches that will either openly get hostile like my coworkers, or plot revenge like Alfred-chan or A, over the justified "attack" on them made me overcorrect myself to the point I tolerate shit like this more than I should. Like you know how unwillingless to become the very thing you hate might put you on the opposite extreme? Because it should not have happened three times for me to be done!!! (especially since none of these idiots got fired for their behaviour) Not to mention less extreme conflicts and these idiots doing god knows what at the WORKPLACE 🤦‍♂️

[science-lings]

Elaborations under the cut

1- based off of the official art where half the time he's drinking he's just passed out or he's just smiling at nothing. I can see him becoming a functioning alcoholic who drinks mostly because it helps him sleep but I don't think he would want to be that vulnerable in his daily life, especially when hanging out with Kristoph.

2- He was just as spikey as a baby, but also the style seems intentional rather than just how it grows.

3- PW vs PL reference? idk the vibe that in an alternate timeline where he forgets that he's a lawyer he becomes a baker with Maya is just fun so I think he just likes baking in general. Also, I'm a sucker for those AUs where he's a baker. He seems like the type to get stuck in his head while kneading bread dough and regularly makes those kinds of breads that have to basically be beat up to get his anger out. No therapy, only bread.

4- This feels self-explanatory, he can also dance, at least in the way that he can pick up choreography and bullshit his way through any performance. I also think it would be sweet if he sang lullabies to Trucy while she was growing up.

5- There are multiple instances where he passes out from stress and his internal dialogue mentions that he's 'feeling lightheaded' like GIRL... GO TO THE DOCTOR. And he did but that meant that he can't drive in case he gets too stressed driving and passes out... which would not be good.

6- Again, self-explanatory, this man has an abnormal brain, good for him.

7- I don't exactly know what he has tattooed on him but I can see this guy, who is unaffected by pain and also an art major, having a few designs on him. Maybe a dragon winding around his shoulder or a few little silly things on his legs and arms. He doesn't really flaunt them and everyone gets surprised when its the combined prosecutors office and WAA beach day.

8- The magatama should make him look a little spooky, I think it would be fun. Also, I think he should use it to jumpscare anyone who is around while he is sneaking into his kitchen to eat baby carrots when he wants a midnight snack.

9- I've spoken about this before and I will probably do so again, I just think he needs an awful cat as a pet project when Trucy moves out and he gets lonely. It's a better outlet than trying to fix a person who might fake their death or try to poison him.

10- You cannot tell me that undefeated poker player extraordinaire isn't completely in control of his tells as much as he possibly can be. He can dodge questions and provide perfectly true but vague answers. I just think he can be so incredibly cagey and secretive when he has to be, even though he's typically pretty emotionally open. He learned it from Mia (Ms. 'didn't tell Phoenix she had a sister even though they've known each other for years' Fey)

[sickficideas]

may i propose the idea of dazai crying until he throws up but Actually. do what u will with this information😭

hello anon, i greet you 11 months later...i am so sorry....and I have no idea if this was even a fic request or just a Hey. This Concept is Cool. and you're right so I wanted to write a fic about it and it took me 11 months. so. here you go Im so sorry LOL

just get up, get up || kunikidazai sickfic

ao3! 5.2k - please refer to the tags in the link for content + warnings! this one is a little heavy (past suicide attempt references, death mentions)

Kunikida is standing outside of Dazai's apartment, originally with a bone to pick with him for not showing up to the company dinner, but he’s long forgotten that. He's far too focused on the fact that he hears Dazai crying through the front door.

Dazai doesn’t cry.

Kunikida has the key to his apartment, as a precaution. He’s had it since the first time Dazai seriously attempted to kill himself, swallowing nearly forty pills from something he stole from Kunikida’s bathroom, that being the only reason Kunikida found him in time. He’s told Dazai he won’t disrespect his privacy unless he thought he had good reason to, and he thinks he has a good reason to do just that right here. He fumbles with his keys to find the one labeled Dazai.

Because Dazai does not cry for no reason.

He barges in, closing the door behind him but not bothering to even lock it properly before he runs to Dazai’s bedroom, where the sobs are coming from. Kunikida’s praying in his head on repeat that he isn’t in a life-threatening situation because that’s not a farfetched idea here, but he doesn’t quite get that feeling here.

Dazai is curled up in the corner of his nearly barren bedroom with the lights off, on his side, on the floor. Kunikida doesn’t see any signs of a suicide attempt, but that doesn’t mean much - just because he doesn’t see a noose or a pill bottle doesn’t mean he’s fine, and clearly, he’s not.

Kunikida can count at least five empty bottles of various types of alcohol on the floor.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, but he doesn’t detect any reaction from him, he’s just choking on sobs and sounding nearly unable to breathe, and Kunikida is contemplating calling Yosano. But he can’t do that. Dazai won't do any better with a doctor here, even one he’s familiar with.

Kunikida, for once, can't think of anything to help.

He's seen Dazai drunk before, but he doesn't think that's what's going on. Something else is causing this.

Kunikida kneels down in front of him, laying a hand over Dazai’s arm, covering his face for the most part. The bandages on his arms have long come loose, which tells him just how far off his mental state is right now.

Dazai’s face is red and his eyes are shot, a fact that Kunikida is only able to tell because of how Dazai looks up at him, brow furrowed and almost somehow begging Kunikida to make it stop. What exactly that is, he doesn’t know, but he can’t stand seeing Dazai like this. He needs to do something.

"Did you take something?" Kunikida asks as Dazai’s eyes drift away from him again. Kunikida’s forcing eye contact with a death grip on his arm. "Medications? Drugs?"

Dazai shakes his head just barely, and for some reason, Kunikida feels inclined to believe him. Kunikida is shocked Dazai is even listening to what he’s saying.

"Were you drinking?" Kunikida asks, even though the answer is obvious. Dazai barely nods before pulling his arm back over his face, trying to make himself smaller in some feeble attempt to tell Kunikida to leave, but he won’t even consider it.

"Are you hurt?" he asks, but Dazai doesn't answer. He cries out like he's in pain and his body twists, eyes screwed shut. Kunikida panics, he presses against Dazai's shoulder to lay him flat on the floor and check him over for injuries, but he sees nothing. No blood, no rips in his clothing, nothing. Dazai's eyes have relaxed, but they're still flooded with tears.

“Dazai,” Kunikida starts, not even sure what to follow up with. He feels dizzy. What does he even do here? He needs a plan. He needs to figure out how to help Dazai at least feel better enough temporarily so he's not choking on his sobs. “Let's get you to bed, come on.”

Kunikida scoops a hand under the shoulder that's against the ground to encourage Dazai to get off of the floor, at least, hoping that he can walk himself. Dazai's not crying as hard right now but it almost sounds like there's something else keeping his focus. He manages to get himself together enough to prop himself up, but Kunikida realizes too late that he looks nauseous all of a sudden, and the gag confirms his suspicion. The choking he was hearing were probably half-gags to begin with.

Dazai leans forward and chokes up a torrent of pale, watery vomit, just barely missing Kunikida's knee, but he's not to lucky the second time he gags, most of it splattering up the side of his thigh.

In any other circumstance, Kunikida would have certainly shouted at him. For drinking so much, for not being able to control himself, but he can't even bring himself to say anything, much less reprimand him. All he can do is make sure Dazai doesn't fall face forward in his own vomit.

His seemingly endless tears join in the vomit and drool that drips from his chin as he breathes heavily over the puddle, not able to keep himself up anymore. Kunikida doesn't want him to lay back down anymore -if he's not down throwing up, the last thing he needs is to choke on his own vomit, so he tries to at least prop him up.

He isn't finished, so it was a good call. He manages to avoid Kunikida this time, gagging and spitting up more of his stomach contents to add to this existing puddle, a hand pressed against his tummy.

He hasn't calmed down at all. His eyes look wild, as if throwing up has just made him feel a hundred times worse. Another thing that Kunikida can't do much about. He's so helpless, sitting right in front of him and watching him cry his eyes out without any idea what's going on.

Kunikida leans forward and holds him close, both arms wrapped around him in some kind of attempt to ground him.

“Dammit, Dazai,” Kunikida murmurs quietly. He’s completely and utterly heartbroken. Dazai was just suffering here. He wasn’t trying to end his life. He wasn’t hurting himself. He wasn’t even on anything, he just drank his sorrows away and sobbed for what must have been hours before Kunikida got here. “I'm going to stay with you tonight. Okay?”

He feels Dazai nod against his shoulder. That's a good sign, but he still shakes and sobs against him, like he wants to curl up and disappear in his arms.

That's fine with him, if the feeling helps. Kunikida will hold him as long as he needs him to.

He can't tell how long it's been once Dazai starts to breathe normally, but Kunikida takes the opportunity. He manages to move him over to his bed and under his covers. Dazai's eyes have glazed over. His lashes are still wet but he doesn't seem to be crying much more right now, and he's hoping he will at least be able to sleep for a few hours.

Kunikida tries to straighten things up, per his nature. He picks up all of the empty alcohol bottles and trash that litter his bedroom floor and brings them to the kitchen. He brings a trash bin beside Dazai's bed in case he needs to vomit again soon before he cleans the puddle in the corner. He feels nauseous himself, but he certainly won't make Dazai do the job right now. He wipes up the now-dried bits of vomit on his pants, and grabs another rag for Dazai's face.

He's almost asleep, finally. Kunikida wipes up his mouth and his chin. His face is warm, he lays a hand against his cheek to feel it. He's not worried about a fever, thinking it's probably just how much Dazai has worked himself up.

“I wish you would've called someone,” Kunikida says quietly.

He's glad he got to him before it got worse, at least.

…

The next morning, Kunikida opens the screen door to Dazai's porch. He should have done that last night. The entire dorm room reeks of alcohol and vomit, something he's only realizing with a taste of fresh air.

The rest of the night was easier than it could have been. Dazai somehow managed to sneak past Kunikida at some point, who had fallen asleep on the floor next to his bed, to puke in the bathroom for a few minutes. He would've fallen asleep there if Kunikida hadn't noticed and put him back to bed.

He groans, trying to stretch out the aches in his muscles from sleeping on the floor.

There's not a long list of people he would do that for.

When he wanders back into Dazai's bedroom, he sees him watching. On his side, head halfway engulfed by his pillow and looking at least seventy-five percent asleep, but he's awake.

"Hey," Kunikida says quietly.

"Hi,” Dazai croaks. The first coherent word he's spoken.

“I'll be right back. Just going to my dorm room for a moment,” Kunikida tells him. Dazai only nods. He wonders if maybe he shouldn't leave him alone, but it doesn't look as if Dazai has any energy at all to do something he shouldn't. “Do you need anything?”

He shakes his head, and lets his eyes fall shut. Kunikida feels relieved.

Thank god they have today off, too.

He disappears into his dorm for no longer than ten minutes to change clothes and do his morning routine - brush his teeth, wash his face. He thinks about showering but decides to put that off, not wanting to leave Dazai alone for longer than he needs to. He thinks Dazai would certainly benefit from a shower, too.

He makes it back soon enough to Dazai's bed room. The air feels much more fresh now, which will certainly do Dazai some good. He's turned around, now, the glass of water Kunikida had places beside him on the other side, but still full. Like he had tried to drink some, but decided not to. Kunikida wouldn't be surprised at all if he was still nauseous.

He needs to make him something to eat. Rice or soup would do him some good. Nauseous or not, he needs some substance in his stomach or else throwing up will be much more painful, and leave him feeling much worse - especially when he's pumped full of alcohol.

He turns to walk back into the kitchen, but Dazai's hoarse voice stops him before he can go any further.

"Sorry about last night. Kunikida," Dazai mumbles, his back still turned to him.

Kunikida doesn't think he's ever heard him sound that sincere about an apology before. It's genuine but dripping with guild all the same. It feels strange to hear. He almost wants to joke back.

"It's alright," Kunikida tells him, deciding now is not the time to be having any sort of conversation about it. He'll talk later, right now he just wants Dazai to feel normal. "I'll make you some food. You need to eat."

"I'm not hungry, ‘s okay,” Dazai replies quietly. He’s lowered his voice, like it hurts to keep it over a certain volume. Kunikida watched him shift like he wanted to move, but ultimately decide to sink back down.

"You still need to eat, Dazai. You threw up at least six times last night,” he says with a little sigh. “Just a little so that there's something in your stomach. It doesn't need to be right this second.”

Dazai has two packets of instant rice if he remembers correctly, and nothing else. Kunikida decides he'll go get groceries for him tomorrow. He's pretty certain those packets are left over from the last time he got groceries for him, too.

“I’ll eat later,” Dazai agrees begrudgingly, which Kunikida thinks is certainly better than the response he was expecting. “What’s the time?”

Finally, he turns so that he’s on his back. He tilts his head in Kunikida’s directly. He looks like he’s nearly on his deathbed - he’s so pale and looks exhausted.

“It’s almost nine in the morning,” Kunikida tells him.

“It feels like it’s five AM,” Dazai grumbles.

“Do you want to shower?” Kunikida asks. He’s trying to think of ways to get him out of bed. He doesn’t think wasting away in his dark room is any good for him, and he thinks a shower would certainly help him feel better.

“No,” he grumbles, glaring at Kunikida.

“Well, you should,” Kunikida says, leaning against the door frame.

Dazai groans like a child, turning away so his back faces Kunikida once again. This reaction, he should have expected.

“I'll help you,” Kunikida offers.

“Can it be a bath instead?” Dazai mumbles. Kunikida can hear the pout on his lips.

“Whatever will get you smelling better than a bar,” Kunikida says. He doesn’t care either way. “I’ll start it now, then. I’d really like if you had some water, I don’t need to you pass out on me.”

Dazai makes a vague noise in acknowledgment, but the way he pulls the sheets over his head tells him that he’s going to take advantage of his bed before he makes any plans to drink water.

Thankfully, Dazai doesn’t make the rest of it difficult for him. He doesn’t even argue about the bandages anymore.

Kunikida massages a second round of shampoo into his hair, with Dazai underwater from the shoulders down, quiet for the most part. The water is the perfect temperature and it’s certainly doing him some good, some color has started to come back to his face. He’s a little more quiet than Kunikida is comfortable with, though.

“Anything you usually do on Sundays?” Kunikida asks him, leaning Dazai’s head back just a bit before taking the pitcher of water to rinse the shampoo out.

"I usually…" Dazai mumbles, pausing like he’s not sure he wants to share. He keeps his eyes shut as Kunikida continues to rinse out the shampoo. "I go visit a friend."

"A friend?" Kunikida asks. He thinks most of the shampoo is out. There’s a bottle of conditioner that Kunikida put in here years ago that Dazai clearly never uses - he decides he’s going to do it now, while he has him here.

"Yeah," Dazai nods. He pauses again as Kunikida words the conditioner into his hair, but the silence must have encouraged him to say what’s on his mind. "Do you…can you come?"

Kunikida's surprised at this.

"I don’t have any plans today,” Kunikida says. Not entirely true. He has a Sunday routine, but he can make sure he gets to that in the evening, and just stay with Dazai this morning. “Does he live here? In Yokohama?”

“At the cemetery. By the Port.”

Kunikida almost replies, wondering which neighborhood that is exactly, but his stomach drops once he realizes what Dazai is saying.

Oh.

He's visiting a grave.

Somehow, all of this makes sense, now.

…

Kunikida lets Dazai take his time. Of course, he’s not going to rush him out of the dorm room to go see his friend’s headstone, but he’s moving much slower than normal this morning anyway. Kunikida dries his hair and gives him a change of clothes as he cooks some rice for him to eat, even if it’s only a few bites. He argues, hopes he’ll win, but Kunikida manages to get him to eat at least half of it.

“You go here every Sunday?” Kunikida asks him as they approach the cemetery, now within their sight. Dazai’s been relatively normal on the trip there. It was only a stop away on the train station and a few blocks of walking, but still, he seems much more like himself, he’s realizing now, though, that he was simply trying to distract himself.

“Every Sunday,” he confirms, the tone of his voice now changed. He sounds far away, living some past memory, but his voice holds the same texture of when he was trying his eyes out last night. Kunikida chews his lip.

He’s not sure how he never noticed this tradition of his, either, unless this death was recent. Dazai’s never around on Sundays but he’s never clear about his plans either. He’ll say anything from he’s getting a coffee to he’s planning on overthrowing the government, if he threw in a I’m visiting my dead friend, Kunikida would have thought nothing of it.

Atsushi’s mentioned finding him at a cemetery before, once, when Dazai failed to show up to an emergency meeting. But even then, Kunikida never thought he was there to visit someone.

Dazai slows down as they make it to the entrance, and Kunikida makes it further ahead of him before he realizes he’s stopped. He’s turned away from the direction of the sea, almost looking like he’s holding his breath. Kunikida decides if he should ask him if they should turn around before Dazai brings a hand up to his mouth.

"Dazai, are you - " Kunikida starts, but Dazai is already bent over with a hand on his stomach, throwing up onto the sidewalk before Kunikida can finish his question. “Shit.”

Kunikida curses, laying a hand on Dazai's back. Dazai probably assumed the rice would come right back up anyway, that’s no doubt why he was refusing to eat, but Kunikida wonders if it has something to do with the nerves of where they are right now. But certainly, he wouldn’t react like this every Sunday?

“I’m fine,” Dazai breathes out, spitting up the rest of what’s in his mouth into the small puddle at his feet. It’s not much, but he didn’t have near anything in his stomach to begin with. He looks even worse, now. Kunikida wants him to sit down and drink some damn water.

Kunikida keeps his hand on Dazai’s back as he straightens up and tries to take in a steady breath. Kunikida is almost certain he’s going to throw up again, but he manages to pull himself together enough to continue on to the cemetery gates.

Dazai snakes his hand into Kunikida’s and squeezes it, hard. Kunikida squeezes it back as Dazai leads him to a gravestone, right underneath the tree on the far side of the cemetery.

S. Oda.

Reading the same sends a chill up his spine and he can’t explain why. Kunikida's never heard Dazai mention this person before, not even unnamed. A friend. Dazai doesn't seem like the type to have friends at all, not outside of work.

Whoever he was, he must have been very important to Dazai, to affect him like this.

And the longer Kunikida stands there beside Dazai and stares, the faster he starts to realize that the date of death on the headstone was yesterday's date.

"You should've said something," Kunikida sighs quietly as Dazai slips his hand out of Kunikida’s grip.

"I have a friend who I've never told you about who died in my arms four years ago yesterday. There," Dazai says. It's incredibly nonchalant, something he's trying to pass off as a joke, but Kunikida can hear the pain in his voice. He can feel it.

It must have been an awful death, to break down Dazai like that.

Dazai kneels right in front of the headstone and lays his forehead against the cold marble. He chokes back a sob, evidently, completely incapable of holding himself together. It hurts him so much. He can’t fathom what could have happened. Dazai’s completely broken by this.

Kunikida can't just sit there and watch. He kneels beside him, a little further back. He wants to lay a hand on his shoulder, but he hesitates, and takes his hand again to squeeze it hard instead.

“I'm sorry,” Dazai mumbles quietly, wiping his tears with the sleeve of his hand. “I think…he would've loved working at the Agency.”

“You think so?” Kunikida asks. Four years ago would have been someone in the Port Mafia with Dazai, Kunikida is fairly certain.

“He would've…he would've deserved it more than I do, Kunikida,” Dazai tells him, a few teardrops landing in the earth right in front of the headstone. He’s getting that look in his eyes again, like he’s somewhere else.

Kunikida bites his lip. “Don't say things like that, Dazai.”

“Maybe…maybe if he found him instead of me, then…then they both would've…” Dazai murmurs, and Kunikida starts to worry, because he's not making much sense. He’s not sure who he’s talking about. “but then Atsushi…what about…”

“Hey,” Kunikida starts, squeezing his hand a little tighter, “I don't know what happened to your friend, but no matter how things ended for him, there's nothing you can do to change the past.”

Dazai’s shoulders tense up. Kunikida worries he's having the opposite of the desired effect, but there’s nothing he can do to guess what Dazai could possibly be thinking. 

Dazai lifts his head off of the stone, a little too quickly, it seems, because his whole body slumps forward and he smacks his forehead into it before Kunikida can stop him. He holds his shoulders to move him off the stone and he seems to have come back to him already. Kunikida steadies him and makes sure he gets a good look at his face. He still looks dizzy. "You're dehydrated."

"Mm," Dazai huffs. He doesn't seem to care. He rubs the part of his forehead that smacked against the stone and groans.

"Let's take you to Yosano,” Kunikida insists, taking Dazai’s hand and helping him off the ground. He’s really concerned. All of this is very out of the ordinary for him. He wants to take him somewhere he can rest for a few hours, at least.

"I'm okay, Kunikida,” Dazai mumbles, his eyes still pointed down at the headstone. He’s not crying anymore, but he's certainly not all there.

"Like hell you are, Dazai," he huffs, reaching out to lay a hand under his chin and point his face up to look at Kunikida. He looks like a sad, wet cat. "She could get some fluids in you, at least."

"I don't like needles," he murmurs. His eyes drop back down to the ground.

“I know you don’t, but you just fainted because you’re so dehydrated. And I don’t think you have any interest in drinking water right now,” Kunikida says with a deep sigh. Dazai doesn’t argue, but he leans forward to lay his forehead on Kunikida’s shoulder.

Kunikida holds him, one arm around his back and the other on his head, for as long as Dazai needs him to. He knows a lot of what Dazai shows him on a regular basis is a front, a disguise, he’s learned that after many years of working with him - but to see it completely torn down like this breaks his heart.

After a while, Kunikida leads him out of the cemetery. Dazai doesn’t object. He keeps his arm around Kunikida, his eyes on the ground in front of him, not lifting his head. Kunikida lets him. He plans to walk the two of them to the Agency, which isn’t more than a fifteen-minute walk. He knows Yosano is there today, even though it’s closed - it’s when she catches up. He can at least have her look him over.

The Motomachi shopping structure starts to come into view as Dazai starts to lift his head a little and slip his arm out of Kunikida’s. There’s more people around here now, and he can already see Dazai start to mask on, even around people he doesn’t know, people he’ll never meet.

Kunikida feels Dazai’s hand slip out of his grip, and he worries for a moment before he hears a voice coming from behind them.

"Dazai? Kunikida?"

It's Atsushi, Kunikida realizes upon turning around. 

"What're you guys doing here?" Atsushi asks. He’s by himself, it looks like.

"Work," Kunikida answers simply, trying to avoid any tough conversation for Dazai. He doesn’t think Atsushi will ask any questions beyond that. "And you? Are you by yourself?"

"Kyoka's in the bakery over there. But I saw you guys from the window and wanted to say hi," Atsushi says, but the smile on his face fades as soon as his eyes peer over to Dazai, who, no matter how much he's trying to fake it, still looks miserable. "Are…you okay, Dazai?"

"Oh, I'm fine. You know. Hungover," he jokes, but he still doesn’t sound like himself, no matter how hard he’s trying. Kunikida supposes the hangover bit might be partially true.

"You really should stop drinking so much," Atsushi scolds. Kunikida mirrors that sentiment, mentally, but he thinks Dazai probably has a much bigger problem than they can address with scolding.

"Mmm…maybe you're right," Dazai says, but it's impossible to tell if he's going to take that to heart or not. Kunikida is going to guess, likely not.

"Me and Kyoka were going to try out this new tea house. It’s like, a block over," Atsushi tells them, gesturing in the general direction. "Would you guys wanna come?"

"Hm. We're pretty busy with work," Kunikida lies, but he's trying to give Dazai an out in case he needs one. "Dazai?"

"We should go. Tea's good," he says simply with a shy-looking smile.

Kunikida's heart melts. Atsushi looks a little suspicious. Certainly, Kunikida would never let Dazai decide if they were going to work or not. Maybe he’s not covering their tracks as good as he thinks they are.

"Alright. We'll come."

"Why are you guys working, anyway? We're closed today," Atsushi says, turning around and leading them towards the bakery down the street, where Kyoka is, presumably.

“Just something the president asked us to take on,” Kunikida explains. “Classified, though.”

“Uh-huh…”

He’s not buying it, but he doesn’t press on. Kunikida’s relieved.

Once they meet Kyoka, the tea house isn’t far at all, and in the direction of the Agency anyway. Kunikida still plans to take Dazai to Yosano afterwards, but he thinks this is a good idea. Tea would definitely do him some good, if he’s willing to drink it.

He doesn’t last long at all, though. He only takes a few sips of what Kunikida had ordered, claiming he would decide from there, before he sneaks off to the bathroom. Kunikida say the nausea on his face, though, that green tinge, his hand over his stomach. He can’t keep anything down right now. He really needs to see Yosano.

“Do you think he’s sick, Kunikida?” Atsushi asks, concern written all over his face. He knows something’s going on.

“He might be. I need Yosano to take a look at him,” he says with a shaky sigh, already having finished sending her a text that they would be on their way over very soon. He’ll flag down a taxi to get them there. It’s not far, but he doesn’t think Dazai should be doing any more activity than he needs to.

When Dazai comes back, looking even worse than before with three concerned faces staring at him, his shoulders sink. Kunikida thinks that he can’t possibly believe he wouldn’t get caught.

“I’ll meet you guys there after we pay,” Atsushi tells them, and Kunikida thanks him. He’ll send him money to cover the bill later. He takes Dazai by the arm and leads him outside. He’s hoping he can get him feeling a little better soon.

…

Atsushi gets to the agency about an hour later, so worried about Dazai that his stomach hurts because of it. Something’s not right, he could tell that as soon as he saw the two of them in the street. Sure, he’s certainly sick with something, but he’s too quiet. He looks sad. That’s just not something he ever sees on Dazai’s face.

He makes it up to the Agency floor. Kyoka decided to go back to the dorms, so it’s just him, and no one but Yosano, Kunikida or Dazai should be in the office. The door to the infirmary is open, but he hears something coming from the office couch.

Dazai sounds like he's gagging again.

He carefully wanders over, not seeing any sign of Yosano behind the partition, it’s just Kunikida and Dazai - he’s curled up on the couch, his arm attached to a fluid line. Kunikida is in the middle of laying a blanket over him and holding a trash bin under his chin. Atsushi wonders why Dazai isn’t in the infirmary instead, but he does like this couch. Maybe he’s just more comfortable here.

Atsushi knows something must be wrong with him if Kunikida of all people is being so kind and gentle with him. Laying a blanket over him just can't be something he'd do for no reason.

Dazai spits up something into the bin before Kunikida lowers the bin. He groans and curls up in on himself again. He doesn't look good at all. Atsushi isn't sure if he's sick or not, but even if he is, it's concerning.

"He's having a hard time today, Atsushi. Don’t bother him too much," Kunikida says sternly, quietly, before he disappears into he infirmary. He hears him and Yosano faintly chattering about something, but the sound is lost on him as he focuses on Dazai’s miserable form.

Atsushi sits on the couch opposite of Dazai for a minute, watching him. Dazai knows he’s there, but he doesn’t look up. His eyes are on the floor. His breathing looks off, like it’s a conscious effort every time. He’s pale and he looks terribly nauseous. Atsushi feels guilty. He wouldn’t have offered for them to come if he knew he stomach was bothering him this much.

"Are you okay, Dazai?" he asks meekly, even though he knows the answer. It's a stupid question to ask, really. Dazai’s eyes finally dart up to meet Atsushi’s.

"I'm always okay," he says. The most non-answer possible.

“You don’t look okay,” Atsushi tells him with a little pout. He’s seen Dazai hungover before, it’s never, ever this bad. The worst it does it make him complain and give him a headache.

Dazai sighs quietly. "Just…missing a friend."

"A friend?" Atsushi asks, scooting up a little further. Dazai doesn’t ever talk about friends. "Why don't you go see them?"

"I saw him this morning."

Atsushi’s heart sinks as he puts all of the pieces together. He’s seen Dazai’s friend before, too. He and Kunikida were coming from that direction before Atsushi met them today. “Your friend in the cemetery?”

Dazai nods slowly.

“I'm sorry, Dazai,” Atsushi says quietly. Dazai shifts his body so that he’s lying on his back, staring up at the ceiling. “He must’ve been really important to you.”

"He's the reason I left the Port Mafia," Dazai says gently. “I wouldn’t…be here without him.”

Atsushi gives him a halfway smile. It’s not often that Dazai ever opens up about anything. Maybe it’s how he’s feeling, maybe he’s just deep enough in his thoughts to let his guard down, but Atsushi’s thankful that he’s shared that with him.

“I’m glad you knew him, then. Even if…even if you wished you knew him longer. He changed your life, right?” Atsushi says. He can’t part much wisdom to Dazai, someone who seems to know everything, but Dazai turns his head to look at Atsushi. It’s a warm expression on his face. Atsushi can’t tell what he’s thinking at all.

“Right, Atsushi.”

[kyoongboxi]

You Shouldn't —

[Baekhyun AU]

Summary; Marriage is not just a tied up promise to live together until death is the only reason to separate. Marriage is something really complex. You can't say you want to separate as easily as when you were dating. Communication is one of the keys to make a harmonious relationship long lasting, but the lack of communication also would lead into a split up. And that is what currently happened to you and your husband.

Pairing; Baekhyun x Reader

Genre; angst, fluff

——

The week has finally come to an end. It was a late Friday night when Baekhyun stepped into his quiet apartment. Work was hectic with reports, meeting and all the dramatics event followed by. The man has not spoken to his wife for around two weeks. He was left alone in the apartment ever since, meanwhile his wife fled to her mother's house to avoid any possible bigger fights.

Its not like he was a dirty person but tonight, his mind was hazy. There is too much to think about at one time. Several bottles and snacks scattered on the floor, littering the carpet he bought with his first salary years ago. The man is now laying on the edge of the couch, his feet touching the ground.

His gaze was blank, staring at the white ceiling. He let the room illuminated by the darkness. Only the lights from his old analog television which is now airing a static show becomes his only friend to talk to. Baekhyun's arm sprawled into the side, fingers tightly clutching another bottle of alcohol.

The man seemed so lost wandering inside his mind alone until he didn't notice his apartment door being unlocked. Someone clearly made its way inside but he doesn't give a fuck at all because it didn't caught his interest until a familiar voice he hadn't heard in a long time pulled him out of his muddled thoughts.

"You promised you won't torturing yourself by drinking before I left" It was a voice that belongs to a woman, it was a voice he had been dying to hear in the past few days. It was a voice that belongs to you.

Knowing his medical records and fully aware of it, it makes you mad seeing him torturing himself for the things that might pull him back into the ICU. Without thinking twice, you crouched down on the carpet, collecting the bottles and snacks to throw it away.

Baekhyun's reaction was kinda late. He sat up on the couch, zoned out with his mouth half parted before realizing his wife had returned. "Min?"

You turned your head into his direction and noticed how he was actually fucked up. His hair was messy, it seems like he was pulling his hair out with his fingers. His face was also flushed in a deep shade of red. You know the man's got a very low alcohol tolerance.

Baekhyun was still in his work attire. The sleeves rolled up into his elbow in a messy roll, not forgetting his three unbuttoned dress shirts that reveal his chest a bit. "You cut your hair?"

You could tell he was clearly drunk. You decided to ignore him but he managed to catch your hand when you were about to leave to the kitchen, to throw all of the shits he just caused. "You're drunk. You realize that?"

His wife, you, let out a sigh in defeat. He was now standing in front of you. Hell, you could even smell the alcohol from him. Your eyes were actually filled with worry, but the drunk man seems like he didn't notice. Instead, he let out a laugh. "I deserved it, anyway. You actually love to see me torturing myself, aren't you?"

You shut your eyes together, taking a deep breath before deciding to speak again. "Please don't start. I don't want to start this conversation again with your currently drunken ass. Let's get you cleaned up"

You took his hand but he was fast to slap your hand away. "You said you didn't care about me anymore but you're here now. What a surprise"

He put the bottle on the table before he made a sound with several claps. "This is not what I expected to see when I come home" You shook your head slowly.

"Then what? What are you expecting to see? You expect me to bring that woman here? I asked Jung to mutate her. And now she's gone. Are you satisfied? I'm all yours now" His lips tugged into a broken smile, and its matched with your broken heart too.

"I'm— I'm not asking you to mutate her I'm just asking for both of you to know your position as an acquaintance only. Nothing more than work matters" You were still in your work attire as well. You decided to come to check on him before you went back home to your mother's house but guess you will be back staying the night here, seeing the man you love is clearly a mess.

"Like I said its all just a work matter—" Baekhyun defends himself. Drunk or not, his answer was still the same. Its only makes you to feel guilty, its only makes you to think maybe you're just overreacting all this time.

"But what she did is otherwise! And you" But the woman still took his bait for arguing anyway. Your head is a mess too. A thoughts for a divorce flashed in your vision, afraid that it would surely happening.

You pointing out into him, your fingers hitting his chest every time you spoke. "You let it happen because you aren't aware that it was crossing the line" You speak with an accentuation on every word, delivering your point loud and clear.

"Yeah but all I did—"

"She should have stayed in her lane and you should at least be bold to her, showing that you are a married man" You raised your hand in front of him, pointed to the ring he gave you on your finger. It was a matched one with him. And you were relieved when your eyes shifted into his fingers, seeing the ring is still wrapped around perfectly.

"And maybe you should also stop dragging other people into our relationship. Asking for their opinion and letting you be stirred up!" His words suddenly caused you to freeze. It hits you right in the chest as the realization is washed over you. You still have your eyes locked with his droopy one, your lips half parted inhaling the air that mixed with the smell of the alcohol.

"Are you talking about Sunny?" Your tone softened, having no energy left to raise your voice anymore. "Baekhyun—" Maybe he was right. You should stop seeking for her opinion related to your marriage because she was already interfering too deep.

You let out a tired sigh, "I'm sorry but I need someone to talk to and she is my current bestfriend. And she worked on the same roof as you. Without her, I wouldn't know that you were crossing the line at work. I trusted you but you broke my trust" You spoke softly, meanwhile Baekhyun just watched you with a tired gaze, aware that you haven't finished your sentences.

"Even that bitch dares to call you when you get home only for saying goodnight. But you, you never learn. You always pick the phone up with 'It might be related to work matters be we're currently aiming something at work'" You continued as you lifted your arms below your chest.

"I asked you the same, what will you do if you're in my position? Seeing me accidentally or purposely falling asleep on the couch with my head in another man's lap, inside the house that belongs to a married couple. What will you do, Baekhyun?" You asked, challenging him. You will surely have a tear falling to your cheeks one week ago when you talked about this but now, you were also surprised because your eyes are dry.

The man on the other side, didn't answer. His gaze seems empty and dull when it meets her tired one. The alcohol that runs in his bloodstream stops him from thinking rationally. But one thing for sure, he didn't want to see her falling for other men. He didn't want to see her turning her back to him. He didn't want to lose her.

Baekhyun suddenly broke his stare with her. His fingers were about to snatch the alcohol he put on the table earlier but you were faster to snatch it first. "How many bottles did you drink?"

You finally managed to go to the kitchen. Throwing the half-emptied snacks and bottles into the trash can. Baekhyun is silent now. He was watching you from the living room and still stood on his feet when you were back walking to him with a glass of water.

"Here, drink this instead. Drink slowly" You brought the glass into his mouth and he gladly accepted it. One gulp, two, three— five was fine until he pushed your hand away abruptly. You saw him running towards the bathroom before the sound of him vomiting followed right after.

It was 456317th times your mouth let out a sigh while your feet automatically carried you to him. The man was motionless on the floor, with the bathroom wall supporting his tired body. "Baekhyun—" You called out again, softly reaching for both of his arms to get him on his feet.

His eyes fluttered open, noticing that it was his wife still following him around. "Min— I'm sorry— I'm sorry please don't leave me" Like a drunk man he is, which he's still clearly still in his drunken state, broke into sobs.

You nodded in response, still trying to pull him to stand on his feet. "I'm sorry. I don't want you to leave. Please don't leave me sweetheart— I don't want to see you falling for other men. I'm sorry— I'm sorry I was a dick—" He shook his head and babbled between his broken sobs.

"Shh— Baekhyun— Baekhyun!" You called his name loudly. "I won't leave if you follow me to the shower" You spoke, trying a simple trick for the drunken man and surprisingly it worked.

He nodded, standing up on his feet quickly and letting him get dragged behind the shower stall. You unbuttoned his shirt off and let it fall to the floor in just a soft pull. Baekhyun stays still. He was watching you bend over to pull him out of his pants behind those heavy eyelids.

Now that he is completely bare, you turned the shower on. Warm water greeted his head down to his bare shoulder softly. "I'll wait outside. Call me if you need help"

It was supposed to be the last sentence you spoke before getting out of the bathroom but Baekhyun caught your hand when you were about to step out from the stall. "Join me"

There was a moment of silence for several seconds when he held his gaze against yours. Your mind will surely be cursing you if you fall into his sweet talk. But your heart can't deny the feeling that you were longing for the man. You missed him, you missed his touch, his kisses, his presence, all of him.

So here you are standing so close in front of him with the water already hitting your head. You were still very much clothed until Baekhyun started to unbutton your shirt one by one. When you finally bare, his arm slips against your waist to pull you closer.

The man lets out a satisfied hum when your body flushes together with him. Its feels like its been a very long time since you made a skin to skin contact with your husband because of the current situation. You missed the feeling of his body flushing against yours, you missed all the warmth he radiates so you closed your eyes, finally giving in.

You leaned your head into his shoulder as the water continued to stream down your and his body. You lose it on the next second when his lips come in contact with your neck and your shoulder to softly peppering sweet little kisses and repeating that he is completely sorry, regretting what he did in a quiet murmur.

You didn't respond, instead, you shut your eyes tightly to hold back the tears that wanted to come out. And he'd probably noticed how your body shook along with your chest vibrated when you can no longer hold your sorrow because his hold on your body tightened followed by his fingers went to your hair to calm you down.

You finally broke out into painful sobs. Your quiet sobs mixed with the sound of water streams down into the floor but it doesn't mean he can't hear you. Marriage is hard indeed. Its not easy to unite two different heads, its not easy to respect each other's opinions when it comes to which is wrong or which is right.

You loved this man so much and you let this man tie you up in a vows witnessed by many people. It's only been one year but he is already behaving like this even though maybe this whole mess was just a misunderstanding and a different point of view. But this is what scares you. You were afraid that one day he will choose another woman over you, he will finally turn his back to you, and then you will witness his wedding ring finally slipping away from his finger.

Kyoongboxi's works 🐾

[scoobydoodean]

I don't mean to talk out of my ass, and am saying nothing about how alcoholism works in the real world, but when it comes to the fictional world of the show I really don't think they ever meant to imply Dean has a dependency issue when it comes to alcohol. I think what the show is actually doing is using short hand for either "Dean is in a bad mental state and self medicating" or, separately and not related to that, is using alcohol as a glamorized "cowboy who can put away his liquor" shorthand. For contrast, I'm watching House right now and (regardless of if it does a good job depicting addiction, which I feel absolutely unqualified to comment on) it does want the audience to understand that House is an addict.

I think the issue is there is a lot of room to bring your own personal experiences with alcohol to interpreting the show, and obviously if those have been bad it's easy to apply that to Dean, who does drink frequently in show. As do Sam, Cas, Bobby, Rufus, Ellen, etc. I don't know why people focus in on Dean specifically, though.

I think the funniest thing about this disk horse (which I consider to be over btw—using this as a springboard for closing thoughts) is that I never said at any point that Dean has never abused alcohol. I didn't even say there's no point in the show at which he can be described as an alcoholic (Dean describes himself as one in 10.12 "About A Boy"). I didn't even say I would never believe that Dean has ever driven drunk ever in his entire life, or that headcanoning that Dean has driven drunk before at some point is somehow some horrible evil thing.

All I did was respond to mail asking me if I remembered times in the actual show where Dean was shown drunk driving, because my anon heard a claim that it is shown to us "All of the time" in the actual show, and didn't remember that, and they were looking for someone with a more recent memory who could corroborate. So I said I don't remember that happening explicitly in the show either, and invited people to provide examples if they remembered an example.

I think if the show wanted to say Dean is a frequent drunk driver— specifically—the show would show me Dean being a drunk driver. It wasn't a problem for the show to quite overtly show me Sam driving drunk in 4.09—it wasn't something they shied away from showing. If (to your point—which you are absolutely right about) alcohol is used as a signal of our characters current mental states (Bobby in 4.01, Sam in 4.09, Cas in 5.17, Dean in 10.22, etc) then there's no reason the show would refuse to simply show me Dean being a frequent drunk driver. I'd be happy to explore it if I thought frequent drunk driving was a genuine facet of Dean's character. I just don't think it is, because the show doesn't show me that. And people can say all day long that "Dean drinks a lot" + "Dean has a car and is often in the drivers seat" = "Dean is a frequent drunk driver" until they're blue in the face. I am still holding out my hand, palm up, waiting for an actual example instead of whiney voices crying and whining insisting it simply HAS to be true because they think it should be.

I think you're right at the end of the day that the show isn't worried about Dean being an alcoholic as much as the show uses upticks in each character's drinking to indicate they're going through something—you're 100% right there. I also understand and respect that some people legitimately—with well-meaning intent—want to explore Dean's relationship to alcohol, because it's absolutely in theme imo and I think there's more attention ultimately put on it with Dean than any other character (though this is not true up to season 4 in my current rewatch). I just can't say I'm sitting here wringing my hands over Dean's relationship with alcohol in the actual canon of the actual show. I'm just not. The fact is, our characters have extremely limited options in terms of coping tools, and have trauma more extensive in breadth and length and diversity than anyone in real life has experienced ever, and are almost perpetually existing in a war zone. The fact that they self-medicate in various ways in order to cope isn't remotely surprising and I don't think there's anything shameful and evil about it either especially given their circumstances and utter lack of options. I just also... don't think Dean is a frequent drunk driver.

[hanktalkin]

hello! i love the way you write demo, so i am querying here: do you have any tips/characterization pointers for writing him?

I'll pop between canon traits and my own, extrapolated interpretations of them.

Accent/Speaking Pattern

Other people have done some good compilations of his accent, so I won't retread that. See here for reference:

General Disposition

Most of the time Demo is the comedic straight man. See his characterization (both as a child and an adult) in Bombinomicon and The Naked and the Dead. Bizarre, Magical, and straight up Odd things happen to him, and he finds them concerning but the general comedy of his character comes from his underreaction to those things.

Interpretation => Demo underreacts to important events, and overreacts to minor things (think of him getting very weepy at the drop of the hat, especially while drunk)

Most things are water off a duck's back to him. He doesn't hold grudges. See his very easy forgiveness of both Medic and Sniper.

Interpretation => He is amicable, and generally gets along with everybody, but has difficult forming meaningful bonds. Or at the least, he tries not to be too bothered by the things his teammates do, lest he actually get hurt by them again.

Trauma

Alcoholism is a difficult subject. Plain and simple. Specifically with Demo, either it's his only defining characteristic (most of Game!Demoman, and a good chunk of the rest of canon) or it's ignored/played down (which I don't blame people for doing, as either you know you can't approach something like this with enough nuance in a small oneshot, or due to whatever personal reasons alcoholism is a difficult subject to broach.) There are some angles to go at it.

Demo was written this way simply due to it being a Scottish stereotype. However, much of his backstory revolves around various traumatic events he experienced as a child.

Interpretation => It's not too far of a jump to tie these threads together and say Demo drinks to suppress the trauma he experienced as a child. As a way to tackle in fic, make it clear this is his coping mechanism, a tool for forgetting.

Hope this helps! If you're looking for some more specific tips let me know

[instarsandcrime]

I was wondering, do you have any Alastor head canons? They can be about whatever you'd like to say

Oh dear, that's an interesting question! He's one of the characters that I tend to write at my slowest because honestly, like everyone else, I have no idea what his deal is. But I'll do my best for both snz and otherwise!

Not snz:

To me, he's a fellow anemic. He needs to recover his strength with food after he goes a bit overboard with his powers or transforms into something larger and more eldritch.

As a small addition to the previous headcanon, his go-to food for recovery is his mother's jambalaya rather than the regular venison or otherwise. I know that's a bit of a well-used one, but it's well-used for a reason!

Before episode 5 Alastor most likely still visited swing clubs with Mimzy. I can definitely imagine them tearing up the dance floor together, even after death!

I can also imagine Alastor on regular dinner dates and tea times with Rosie for gossip sessions.

I genuinely do believe in the 'Lilith deal' theory, and that his order is to protect the hotel. However, he's also trying to worm his way out of the deal with the hotel as well.

He refuses to use a cellphone at all times. He would rather suffer a double death. So if there's ever a worst case scenario where he does need to communicate via text, he would probably dictate the message to Niffty. The results tend to vary.

He has a radio in almost every room for security, safety, and communication purposes.

He has a strong alcohol tolerance, considering the 1930's and its speakeasy days. He'd probably be the second or third to last in the hotel to lose to a drinking contest.

The most crack headcanon that I have in regards to Alastor being aroace: Before he fucked off for seven years, Vox tried to ask him out, but Alastor didn't pick up on the cues at all and thought that it was a deal to join the Vees instead. That leaves everyone who asks with the impression that Vox was pissy over asking Alastor to join his team instead of, you know, a date. And the worst part is that Vox can't say shit about what really happened either, because who would just admit that????

He has a deer's tail because I say so, actually.

Snz:

Another obvious one, but he's a germaphobe. 100%.

He's not much of a caretaker unless he really likes the person. Charlie, Niffty, and Rosie are good examples!

When they're asleep he'll sneak in a Creole pet name for luck, as long as no one else is around to hear it.

He has bad bedside manners for anyone he doesn't have much of an opinion on-- or worst case scenario, anyone he hates.

With Lucifer he pulls out all the stops. However, he does align with the fact that he cares about Lucifer recovering-- but only because it would be boring without the regular brand of chaos that he brings.

Connected to the 'Alastor has radios set up around the hotel' headcanon: He has a playlist of over 1,000 songs specifically titled 'Songs Lucifer Hates', and puts each one on full blast until Lucifer caves and takes his medication or goes back to bed.

Yes, this torture method can easily follow him out of Lucifer's room and to any radio in the hotel.

No, Lucifer does not last past four or five songs, and that disappoints Alastor every time.

Alastor does not get sick often, but when he does he gets hit hard.

His sneezing usually comes in doubles or triples, and they tend to be on the more intense side.

They're hard to hold back, so he normally stifles to stay quiet-- unless the room wants to listen to screeching feedback and loud outbursts.

He is a handkerchief user, and carries them wherever he goes. For people very close to him, he will let them keep one.

I'm a sucker for a magic user's loss of control with their powers-- I can see Alastor's emotions get outed by his shadow, or his tentacles shoot out at random intervals.

He gets feverish easily, complete with fever dreams, and tends to mumble about them in his sleep.

[juvederm]

josh thing kinda old from my docs

josh has self control issues, judging by the amount of alcohol he drinks in the prologue (depending on how it's interpreted).

he's a very sensitive person, something that isn't picked up on right away because his exterior is very stoic and kind of like a mask. he has a very bold sense of humor, mostly sex jokes and prodding at other people when they're flustered or scared; likes to jokingly humiliate people or make jokes at their expense. because of this he's described as a ‘schemer’ by sam, and often blamed for any mishaps that occur. ie, when matt and emily find the pig head and the welcome back note, matt’s first assumption is that it is chris or josh.

he has very protective instincts that eventually fuel his vengeance and the reasoning for his prank, due to the level of closeness with his sisters. he values family very much, which also plays into it.

he's reserved, and is described as ‘a guy who's not going to just ask for help’ by sam. chris also says he doesn't know ‘how he keeps it all together', meaning josh has fooled his friends into thinking that he is okay. he constantly says ‘i want us to have a good time’ and uses the phrase ‘like we used to’ at least once, implying a yearning for the past, which he tells himself he cannot change in order to cope.

however, when he spirals, he can't pull himself out of it even with the manifestation of it being someone he trusts, AKA dr hill, his therapist who he emails his plans to.

josh is also anxiety ridden, becoming instantly alarmed when sam asserts that she will check out the noise in the basement.

this is due to his prank and the storage he had in the basement for his prank. he planned it intricately, and gets mad when it goes south. ie swearing loudly if he loses sam, or punching ashley if she stabs him (“i got so mad.”). he seems to prefer that people see what he wants them to see.

josh is also described as a loner, but had a party animal streak in his freshman year of college which could just be because he was in college and it was the popular thing to do, or more likely, he's a fun oriented person and is the main event organizer of the group; probably just wants to have fun (means of distraction maybe?)

josh is also implied to be an alcoholic, judging by the empty beer bottles around his lair. he's attempted suicide at least twice, according to an excerpt in hannah’s diary and his medical records stating a “suicide risk”.

his loner qualities probably stem from his reserved nature, keeping to himself and not asking for help, although he did reach out to sam after the twins’ disappearance, because sam was close to hannah and it's implied they bonded and became very close because of it. but during the trip, josh keeps his distance with his friends, and is very cold to chris at some points. he also says he and chris “haven't been the best of friends lately”, maybe implying that they didn't talk much after the twins' disappearance. it could've played a part in josh going to sam, however, it's not that likely, since the two were already pretty close as friends already.

josh also has a habit of pushing people away (“and at every turn you choose to push them away”) when they're 'willing to help’.

another factor of his loneliness might be due to the fact that he doesn't have a very close relationship with his parents, more specifically his father. he might've had to take care of things himself, which is why he is called an ‘older brother’ to chris, and is described as someone who takes the helm, like a leader.

josh is more often than not the person who organizes events and parties, and his focus is to ‘make sure everyone has a good time’. he might be extroverted in that sense, but mostly introverted when he's not around a crowd.

[krazykiki05]

Klaus watched from the doorway as his human girlfriend struggled in pain to take her jacket off, her wound on her back preventing her from doing so. "G-ah!" She exclaimed. Klaus intervenes.

"Here, let me." Klaus volunteers.

"I said I could do it myself." Kiki bites. This stops Klaus, his jaw clenched in annoyance.

"Obviously you can't, so let me help." His words were quiet but sharp. Kiki ignores him and ties again, this time fighting through the pain. Klaus sits down next to her on the edge of the bed, helping her remove damaged jacket. Klaus tosses it somewhere in the room. Her tank top underneath was worse, soaked in blood. Klauss heart breaks a little. He was supposed to protect her from any harm, but look at her now, a stab wound in the back of her shoulder. Klaus ends up tearing the shirt in half down the middle.

"Really?" Kiki asks as she removes the now rag on her.

"It was ruined anyway." Klaus dissmisses. Klaus looks at the medical supplies Kiki had brought up with her to the room. He picks up and alcohol pad and tears it open. "This is gonna hurt."

"What's gonna-ah son of a bitch!" Kiki was interrupted by Klaus placing the pad right on her wound, watching at the alcohol soaker give turned from white to red. He wipes up the surrounding blood. The fresh wound slowly begins to fill up with blood again. The hybrid was quick to press a gauze to the hole. "Ow." Kiki mutters again at the pressure.

"Sorry love." Klaus mutters. He grabs the roll of tape with one hand while holding the gauze with the other.

After Klaus had dressed her wound properly, he takes off his light jacket, putting it around Kik is shoulders since she was now only in her bra as a top. Kiki hugs it tighter to her and shamelessly sniffs it, relishing in the scent of her boyfriend. Klaus bites into his wrist then holds it out for Kiki. The human apprehensively wraps her lips around the bite wound. She lightly sucks and drinks his blood. She only does it for a few seconds before pulling away and wiping her mouth. "What? That's it?" Klaus asks.

"It's gross" Kiki grumbles. Klaus chuckles.

"But it'll help you heal faster and you know it." Kiki stands up off the bed, zipping up the jacket. "What are you doing?"

"Leaving." Kiki answers shortly.

"To where?"

"My house." Kiki answers again in a duh tone. She takes one step and Klaus vamp runs to stop her.

"Stay the night. Please." Klaus requests. Kiki sighs.

"Klaus I just want to go home, I'm really tired-"

"All the most reason to stay." Klaus stops her once again after kiii tried going around him. "In fact, I want you to stay every night... I want you move in." Klaus says. Kiki stares at him dumbfounded. "I've been thinking about it all day and I was mustering up the courage to ask you when everything happened. I care about you too much to let you out of my sight any longer than I have to. Especially after what happened tonight if I could glue you to my side I would." The couple shares a small chuckle.

"Alright Niklaus Mikealson. Now you get to wake up to my stupid face everyday."

"Sounds like dream." The two share a deep kiss.

"I think this is the part where we have sex but I'm in too much pain." Kiki jokes when they pull away.