#it doesnt do it exactly like this it just reminded me of it

[ven-of-oath]

I think my favourite narrative thing when stories have death or loss is when the missing character isn't ever really addressed and/or the circumstances of their death so instead of a character there's just a siloutte outlined by the others characters coping or not

Just having an obvious hole where a person should be

[samarecharm]

tw disordered eating (not in explicit detail)

Whenever i write Yusuke and his relationship w the thieves, i try to emphasize that Yusuke was in a really really Really bad space not only mentally (like the others) but physically; hes bone-stick thin and you can feel his ribs jutting out if you go for a hug. Hes a bit gaunt in the face and hes got next to no muscle mass. He tires easily and hes kind of a shit fighter bc of it. The metaverse fills in the gaps a little bit, but his body is still very frail and unprepared to transition to an active lifestyle after years of surviving off of such a bare bones calorie diet. For my Akira, it is the driving force behind wanting to takedown Madarame; hes a sucker for a pretty face but hes also unable to look away from someone actively wasting away because of the actions of their guardian.

If any of them try to mention Yusukes physical state or diet, he often deflects, angrily, reminding them that he is abnormally tall, and that that obviously contributes to his thin (frail) stature. Its very hard to get him to eat while theyre in saferooms, and he often lags behind while exploring the museum. He cant stay in combat for too long, and at some point, Akira debates if he should even allow Yusuke to stay on the team; if he passed out or Worse under Akiras watch, hed never forgive himself.

BUT. As the thieves gain his trust, Yusukes a bit more willing to indulge them. He learns quickly that they arent pitying him like he initially assumed (he is far too aware of how much he feels like hes neglected his own body; and how others can easily see that neglect). They routinely eat and hang together bc thats just how they bond, and theyre just trying to invite him into their circle properly. Akira has zero experience w this kind of thing, but Ryuji and Ann are athletes and models respectively; theyre both in fields that encourage that kind of self destructive behavior, and they have some kind of insight into how to avoid falling for those same traps, and helping people who Do end up in those scenarios.

(Anns parents, despite their absence, do their best to prepare her for how cutthroat the modeling world is; to keep her from developing the kind of habits and mindsets that let young men and women destroy themselves. ESPECIALLY bc my Ann is a plus sized model. And Ryuji, as a promising track star, would know how bad it can get for professional athletes, the lengths at which theyd go to maintain their positions and ability to compete. Hes a gym rat who loves food and nutrition and knows what he needs to keep himself fit, and thats all he really needs)

They cant feed Yusuke the way they WANT to bc hes already so thin, so they just let him take from their plates to sample things and let him feel included. He starts taking up Ryujis offers to go get meals together, even is Ryuji ends up taking almost an entire extra serving home as takeout. He lets Ann drag him away to the crepe shop and her other little snack havens, even if he only leaves w a small chocolate of sorts to take home. He lets Akira make coffee and curry for them to split when he comes to Leblanc. And maybe he lets Sojiro cook a full plate for him to take back home to eat at his leisure and away from prying eyes. Yusuke goes from bitter to extraordinarily fond rather quick, and he finds himself angry that this is yet another thing Madarame has stolen from him.

By Futabas palace, hes filled out enough that Akira doesnt immediately panic when Yusuke gets tossed onto the floor by some brute of a shadow, worried that hed shattered every goddamn bone in his body on impact. He doesnt have any real muscle by any means but his face has the faintest bit of cheek fat that Ann is able to pinch w her evil little hands, and when he looks in the mirror, the ribs peek out but they dont jut out. His breathing is better, his skin is just Pale and not Ghostly white, hes got a healthy flush when he laughs at Akiras stupid puns, and he finds himself allocating a bit more of his budget towards stocking his fridge. Sometimes, Akira can even convince him to people-watch out in the sun instead of in the subway tunnels.

At some point, Yusuke becomes very vocal about things he wants, but importantly, about Food he wants. He will eagerly allow his friends to treat him if they ask, and he picks whatever sounds nice to his ears or whatever Ann and Ryuji recommend him. Part of it is due to him feeling safe enough to ask for such things; the thieves kinda laugh about his eccentricity and forwardness, but Akira, Ann and Ryuji know how different and comfortable this Yusuke is compared to the one they met. Its silly but its good; he gets to act like this bc the thieves let him be forward- they let him voice his wants and needs without a fight.

By post game, hes got the barest hint of a tummy pouch, and Ann will attack it relentless with a firm poke whenever hes foolish enough to stretch and lift his shirt to expose it. She thinks its cute 😭 Shes really happy to see it, bc she thinks of Yusuke all skin and bones and angry and scared like a feral dog barking mad, lashing out at any help they offered and working himself sick (figuratively and literally) trying to help make things right. It makes her so sad recalling it, so she likes to remind herself that hes okay now, even if hes a little embarrassed by it. She knows Akira and Ryuji do the same, inviting Yusuke to hang and just see him w their Own eyes that hes better, and that they did the right thing by insisting he join their little ragtag group.

[terrorbirb]

:((((((((( boss didn't buy me lunch like they normally do on people's last day. Commence absolute minimal effort to finish out this job.

[nomairuins]

bedtime nowww probably ummm today qas not what i wanted it 2 be but its fine. i dont feel negative just a very very very numb day which is almost worse. but only almost 🙏

[mossflower]

loki season two has me screaming crying throwing up trying not to get dragged back into the mcu trenches

[magicdyke]

dude is just not smart

[volivolition]

dude the TOP song you posted (truce) fucking kills me and the way you described the animatic is??? so good???? I'd bawl actually /pos

I need to know if there's any other TOP songs you relate to the furies/any DE character really, or any slower songs even if they aren't by TOP

OH AGREED ABSOLUTELY!! TRUCE MY BELOVED... and THANK YOU!! we are imagining animatics and crying together! /pos :'] <3

ooh!! well, i havent listened to a lot of TOP in a while, so i don't have many recommendations there unfortunately :'] but for other slow, soft songs, let's see... i'll put them under a cut with all my explanations, but ☀️ "See The Day" by The Altogether (Volition song!), 🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos (Shivers song!), 🦋 "Would You Be So Kind" by dodie (general skills song, Suggestion primarily!) are the best contenders!

Pretty sure you've seen it already, but from a different ask, i recommend "Almost (Sweet Music)" by Hozier! (and "Like Real People Do" if you want to cry and yearn with me, though my DE ideas for it are very loose hkjhg) these are slow ones i like hkjhg <3

"Goodbye" by The Altogether is a Harry and Dora song :0

"Soldier, Poet, King" by The Oh Hellos is one i specifically relate to Volition (my beloved protector/motivator/crownhead blorbo! [picks him up and wiggles him!!!]), but i would make one of those animation memes for it with every skill slotted into a "soldier" "poet" or "king" position.

☀️ "See the Day" is both another The Altogether song and another Volition song! a real "the worst is over. we made it through. we're going to survive this. it might not get easier yet, but we'll come out the other side and we'll be alive" song. it makes me cry hkjgh

🍃 "Rounds" by The Oh Hellos is a soft Shivers song, though the lyrics don't start until halfway in. ough my god listening to it makes my heart ache (/pos) <3 La Revacholiere singing to Harry in the wind. "Will you start when I end? Yeah, I'm long in the wind..."

"Northern Star" by Dom Fera, a song Harry would sing for karaoke and dedicate to Kim, and then they'd waltz a little clumsily on the dim, starlit sidewalk on their way home for the evening... <3

🦋 "Would You Be So Kind?" by dodie BUT SPECIFICALLY THIS VERSION, because i love everyone's crowded but earnest vibes. this one is led by Suggestion ("oooh you wanna fall in love with us so bad right? right???") and makes me grin, you GOTTA imagine all of the skills squished together in the front of Harry's brain all trying different tactics to get Kim to fall in love with them, (rhetoric: "I HAVE A QUESTION..." ency: "let's write a story! be in my book!") at 2:35, after all the skills singing together loudly, it's just Harry himself singing to Kim, with all the skills slowly backing him up. the ending is all of them fucking ECSTATIC celebrating when harry finally kisses kim hkjhg jesus this'd be so cute hold on i have to go plan this out i have so many thoughts hkjdh

"Seven" by Sleeping at Last would be a sweet Reaction Speed song (ironic that im adding react speed to a list of soft, slow songs though hkjgh) "I'm ready for whatever comes next!" <3 Reaction Speed is a fast, restless little fella who can't sit still for long, always loves moving, acting, doing. he's like the personification of a verb hkjhg <3 i would also accept an interpretation for echem <3

"Cosmos" by Jawbreaker Reunion is a song that The Furies recently suggested to me as a jean song and it's so right for that, very soft and i like it very much :'] (you should also ask The Furies if you want to, it's much more musically inclined than me, i feel hkjhg <3)

awuahg thank you for asking and for reading!! i appreciate it!! <33

oh and here's links to all of the songs in the tags: Come Together Now, Two, Four, Five, Six, Eight, Nine, RPG Animation Meme (<- homestuck lmao)

[nowendil]

hm. might have just felt the first flutters incoming of gender plate tectonics

[alienpupy]

.

[arinmoss]

women and femmes is like. what the fuck r u talking about lol.

like ppl will be talking about shit that effects me but postulate it as something that effects only women and femmes, two things i am not lolol

[fire-in-my-woods]

Haven't had much of a choice but to face my problems head-on of recent. My worst nightmare. Funnily enough, this "road to recovery" has kept me in a constant state of distress and sickness.

[snekdood]

anyways if nick fartez and any of his skeevy fans are spying on me online I needja to know this: no one will ever love you or like you or fuck you and its all your fault bc your a nazi. the only way you'll ever get anything is if you rape someone and you and I both know that doesnt mean shit except how desperate you are to stick your dick in someone and how much you're willing to violate people who actively dislike you and would never be around you if it was their choice. it didn't hafta be this way but you decided being a ugly skeevy nazi was more important than anything, which is sad. honestly jump off a cliff, save yourself the time.

[deelovesbooks]

how to politely tell my older sister to step off my back and not fucking attempt to babysit me?

[beeseverywhen]

Not having a car in your 20s really is a humbling experience. That post where the guys like 'I have to ask my mum to go to walmart' I feel that.

I'm not American so I do have the benefit of town living and a walkable community. I feel very lucky to have been able to live right in the heart of my hometown again (lived on the main street above a shop for a while as a kid but mostly lived in residential areas. As an adult I'm lucky enough to live on a road coming off the main street (can no longer live in places with stairs so above a shop is no longer an option) HOWEVER.

my town is gentrified as fuck and all the shops are stupid. And even if I put up with the cost and buy the things I can in local shops, I can only carry a very limited weight of shopping, but am very stupid and overestimate my ability/ realise but still get carried away and buy too much as I have no impulse control every time. So I'm left having to beg lifts/tag along with pretty much anyone that'll have me lol.

Pour one out for me, trying to run a household and not even having parents I can ask for lifts. I'm begging lifts off aunties, grandparents, friends, fucking COUSINS. Most humbling experience ever and without a car you can't even repay them with easy errands. Watch me repay the favour with CHILDCARE, with TECH SUPPORT, with financial advice. Those are all the worst favors. I don't mind doing them but BY GOD would I prefer to be able to occasionally just pick them up something from the shop. Drop them at the train station. Pick up a parcel.

[angelicmemo]

Why! Cant! I! Be! In! Love!

[reidmania]

love letters | s.reid

summary; when you miss spencer while he is away on a case, you re-read all the love letters he has written you over the course of your relationship

warnings; established relationships, mentions case but doesnt go into detail, fem reader, reader is not a coffee drinker, fluff fluff fluff

an; fic six!! this is just pure fluff tbh. also can we appreciate the colouring on this fic. ITS SO PERFECT PRETTU PERFECT.

You’re lying on the bed that feels too big without him, your fingers idly tracing the edge of a soft, worn piece of paper. The clock beside you reads 2:12 a.m., and you can’t shake the emptiness settling over you as you stare at the ceiling, too awake to sleep and too tired to do anything else. Spencer’s been away for three days now, and every hour without him feels like it stretches on and on, the silence heavier than you’d ever thought silence could be.

Your eyes drift back to the drawer beside your bed, a drawer he never opens, but where you keep something he would recognize instantly. Tucked away are letters, dozens of them, each one a quiet reminder of him. They’re notes, really—not grand declarations, not epic poems. Just little reminders he’s left you over time, slipped into coat pockets or left folded on your pillow. You hadn’t intended to save them all, but now, having them close is the only thing keeping you grounded while he’s away.

You open the drawer and pull out the little bundle tied with a piece of twine. Your heart swells as you untie it, gently unfolding the first note. It’s one of your favorites, written on a torn scrap of notebook paper, one corner crinkled from a drop of coffee. Spencer had left it on your kitchen counter before heading out to work, months ago.

“If I could leave you notes all over the world, I would. But for now, just look outside—it’s raining, and I know that makes you feel calm. I’ll be home before the storm’s over. – S”

You smile, remembering that day. You’d found the note just before noticing the rain falling in gentle streams outside your window, and you’d waited with a blanket by the window, watching the clouds until he came back, just like he’d promised. He always knew how to turn your little quirks into anchors.

Setting that note aside, you reach for another. This one’s written on the back of a receipt from the bookshop downtown. It’s short and scrawled in his neat handwriting.

“You pick up this book as if it’s a friend you haven’t seen in years. It’s beautiful to watch. Don’t forget to mark your place in the story—I want to hear what you think. – S”

You laugh to yourself, remembering how he’d tucked it into the back of the book after you bought it. He hadn’t let you see it until you found it yourself one night, and the memory of the way he’d watched you read that note makes your heart ache just a little more.

You lie back against the pillows, shifting so you’re curled around his side of the bed. It’s silly, maybe, reading these notes over and over. But as you go through them, each one reminds you how much he loves you, how he notices things about you that you hadn’t even noticed about yourself. His love is a quiet kind, a series of small gestures and words, but somehow, it feels bigger than anything else you’ve known.

Another note catches your eye. This one’s on a tiny sticky note, a bright yellow square you’d found on your mirror one morning.

“You make coffee exactly how I like it, even when you don’t drink it. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that for me before. I’m lucky. – S”

You can still remember the warmth of his hand over yours when he found you reading it, how he hadn’t needed to say anything else.

The letters become a timeline of your relationship, a way to measure time not by dates but by memories, by little notes that remind you of the person you are when you’re with him. Each one has a tiny piece of his heart tucked into it, a small reminder that he’s with you even when he’s halfway across the country.

You read through a few more, feeling your eyes grow heavy but not wanting to close them. There’s something grounding about seeing his words, knowing that he took the time to write these little messages just for you. In a way, it makes the ache of missing him almost bearable, makes you feel connected to him in a way that’s both heartbreaking and comforting.

You’ve just set down the last one, a note he left in the middle of a crossword puzzle—“How do you always know the words I can’t think of? I love you.”—when your phone buzzes on the nightstand.

It’s him.

You answer on the first ring, not even caring if he’ll be able to hear the lingering sleepiness in your voice. “Spencer?” you say, unable to help the warmth in your tone.

“Did I wake you?” His voice is soft, low, and there’s a hint of worry in it.

“Not really. I couldn’t sleep,” you reply. There’s a beat of silence before you add, “I was reading some of your notes.”

The smile in his voice is unmistakable. “You kept those?”

“All of them.” You can practically feel his surprise through the line. “It helps. You know, with you being away.”

He hums softly, a sound you know means he’s thinking. “Do you have a favourite?”

There’s a hundred favourites, but you know the answer without hesitating. “The one on the mirror, about the coffee. I don’t think anyone’s ever noticed something like that before.”

The line goes quiet for a moment, but you know he’s smiling. “I think about those little things a lot,” he admits. “I keep thinking about how much I miss you. I know I’ll be back in a few days, but it doesn’t stop me from wishing it was sooner.”

Your heart tightens, and you can’t help but imagine him sitting in some unfamiliar hotel room, thinking of you just as much as you’re thinking of him. “I miss you, too,” you whisper, barely able to keep your voice steady.

There’s another pause, the comforting kind, where neither of you needs to say anything. It’s enough just to be together, even like this.

“Do you want to hear about the case?” he asks gently, as if he’s afraid you’ll say no. You do, because it’s part of him, and you always want to know. So he tells you, his voice a familiar comfort in the dark, weaving through the details with that measured precision he’s so good at. You listen, nodding at the right places, even though he can’t see you, letting his words settle over you like a lullaby.

When he’s finished, there’s a soft exhale on the other end of the line. “Do you have any notes for me?” he asks, the hint of a tease in his voice.

“I could think of a few,” you say with a smile, glancing down at the scattered pages on your bed. “Maybe a sticky note on your phone: ‘Call your girlfriend as soon as the plane lands.’”

You can hear his smile widen. “I think I can manage that.” His voice softens, the words almost like a whisper. “I’ll keep leaving them, you know. Notes, I mean. Just in case.”

“In case of what?”

“In case you ever need a reminder. That I love you. That I notice the little things. That I’ll be there, even if it takes a while.”

You’re quiet, just for a moment, because the words stick in your throat. He always knows how to get to the heart of things, how to make you feel so understood. “I don’t need a reminder for that,” you say. “But I’ll still read them every time I miss you.”

“Then I guess it’s a good thing I’ve written so many,” he murmurs, the warmth in his voice unmistakable. “Get some sleep, okay? I’ll be home before you know it.”

You nod, letting your eyes close. “I love you, Spencer.”

“I love you, too,” he replies, his voice like a gentle embrace over the line. “Sleep well.”

The call ends, but you hold the phone to your chest, listening to the quiet in your room. For the first time in days, it doesn’t feel lonely. Spencer may be miles away, but his words are here, resting against your heart, waiting for you in every corner of every room.