#its atrocious i know but it fit so its Fine

[buttrflyisland]

casually makes the stupidest toploaders i've ever made just for shits and gigs

[yanderefarm]

Can I request Emil catching one of his maids flirting with us

yandere king emil

cw;; violence, stalking, yandere stuff, manipulation

im gonna post this bc i don't think its bad per-say but i don't know if it fits exactly what you wanted. if you're not satisfied feel free to send your request again!!

i don't really imagine this as the reader being oblivious but more like looking past all the obvious red flags because they thought they had a friend who could understand them better than the other people around them including emil.

also im a whore for rofan manhwa bullshit. please check off "cartoonishly evil maid/noble woman minor love rival" on your bingo cards.

usually emil wouldn't feel threatened by the lower class, obviously you wouldn't be interested in them. except you are.

he notices it first when she comes into your shared bedroom in the morning. she's not the usual maid and the way she goes about pouring the morning tea is atrocious, probably because her eyes are glued to your half dressed body. you smile at her and thank her even though she spilled some of your tea with her gawking. when emil mentions dismissing her for her unacceptable behavior you just brush it off saying she was just nervous.

apparently that day the normal maid was sick. and she's still sick a week later. you're currently in the garden trying your hand at some embroidery but you're not very good at it. emil watches from his office window as that maid comes up and offers to help you. you are too excited to accept her help, can't you see she just wants something from you? he finds himself hoping she accidentally pricks you with the needle so he can have a good excuse to kill her. she didn't.

then there's the bath incident. usually he likes taking baths together but you wanted to be alone. that would be fine if he hadn't just watched that annoying maid slip into the bath room. he finds himself following her. the bath room is full of steam as you soak in the hot water making it hard for emil to see anything exactly. but he'd recognize your relaxed form anywhere. the maid steps through the thick steam and asks if you want her to apply some new oils to your hair. its something she found at a market and its supposed to be relaxing lavender. its technically her job to do these tasks so emil can only watch in frustrated silence as she gets to run her fingers through your hair. you smell like her for the rest of the night and god it makes him angry.

every time he sees you with her his stomach twists in anger. he can't be angry with you, you're a kind person and you've proven it time and time again. but this maid. she doesn't deserve your kindness, she doesn't deserve to gently touch your arm, she doesn't deserve to laugh with you. he's asked you what you think of her and you tell him it's so nice to have a friend and how apparently she was born in your home kingdom before moving here. it makes him want to kill her even more. but he holds back because you're just so happy.

finally she goes too far. you're outside excitedly talking to her about a new book you read. you showed him that one too but he didn't share your excitement for the story. not like she was. he wanted to run over there, to run her through with his sword. but he couldn't stop it. he watched helplessly as she touched your arm again and with a blushing face she shyly confessed her feelings. he watched her try to kiss you. he watched the way your face changed from shock to horror. your eyes darted around until they landed on him, you always knew he was nearby if you needed him.

apparently she'd lied about being from your home country to get closer to you. apparently she'd learned your native tongue at another job and used it to manipulate you. apparently she heard a rumor that you would take concubines and she saw it as her chance to climb the ranks. emil was standing behind her, his blade through her chest and his eyes dark with anger. you stood there with tears in your eyes looking at him with so much hurt.

emil isn't lenient with maids that flirt with you anymore. they get a warning from the head maid and if they continue the behavior then emil reserves the right to punish as he sees fit. its not always violent, sometimes he just sentences them to jail for 10 years.

[ruinofchimera]

Finally, someone had the guts to address this absurd circus around so-called ‘ugly’ characters in books. And look—I’m only human, so of course, I’m going to toss in a few logs of my own into this dumpster fire.

What I can’t—will not—ever stomach is the sheer audacity of some people to dictate how others should imagine characters. The nerve. It’s as if they’re so puffed up with their own sense of importance, so absolutely convinced that their view of the world is the gospel truth, that they feel entitled to impose it on everyone else. Well, let me save you some time—you’ll get nothing from me but a resounding ‘bloody sod off.’ Maybe try therapy if you’ve got that much pent-up energy.

The fandom debates on the matter of attractiveness—dear God, they’re relentless. The second a character’s ‘ugliness’ is even hinted at, the discourse spirals into some surreal parody of itself. And when it comes to Severus Snape, well, that’s where people have really outdone themselves. That’s where the madness truly reaches its peak. You’ve got one half of the fandom—rabid ATYD fanboys and fangirls, mostly—ready to pounce on any art or fancast that doesn’t fit their atrocious vision of Snape with the chant, ‘THIS IS TOO PRETTY TO BE SNAPE!’ And then you’ve got the other half of the fandom who take it upon themselves to issue a rallying cry for ugliness, as if they’re campaigning for some higher cause. ‘Don’t be afraid to picture Severus as ugly as he truly is. I prefer him that way,’ they say, as if they’re handing out some kind of badge of moral superiority for embracing ugliness.

Well, hold on a second—define ‘ugly’ for me, would you? While you’re at it, define ‘pretty.’ I’d love to see you try to box up something as subjective as human attraction into neat little labels. What do you mean he isn’t beautiful? Do you think there’s some universal truth about what constitutes beauty? Have you ever heard of this tiny thing called tastes?

Because here’s the reality: tastes vary. What’s pretty to one person is ugly to the next. Yet, somehow, these people have convinced themselves that conventional beauty is the only standard worth recognizing. It’s almost as if they’ve been so brainwashed by mainstream standards that they can’t comprehend any other version of reality.

And even when you do talk about conventional beauty, do you really think everyone’s swooning over the same faces? Take Ben Barnes, for example—an actor practically deified by parts of the internet. Do you think he’s universally adored? Brace yourself—because he’s not. There are people out there who think Barnes, despite all his fanfare, has a nose far too ugly for anyone’s liking. And guess what? That’s fine. Because beauty is subjective. It always has been; it always will be.

Yet, in fandoms, you’d think some people were personally appointed to enforce these ridiculous beauty standards, insisting that everyone must imagine the characters the only right way. Let me let you in on a secret: just because a narrator calls a character ‘ugly’ doesn’t mean jack. Writers, same as anyone else, have their own bloody preferences. Sure, they can project those tastes onto the page, but at the end of the day, it’s just that—tastes. Nothing more.

Now, take Snape. What do we actually know about his so-called ugliness? A large, hooked nose. That’s it. And from that, you want people to conjure up some grotesque, monstrous image? Give me a bloody break. Who even gets to decide what’s ‘large’ and what’s not when it comes to appearance? It’s subjective, like everything else in beauty. You like a nose that’s straight and button-sized, or maybe you prefer someone who’s practically noseless, like Voldemort? Well, good for you. I’m not here to judge. But do me a favor—keep your pristine, perfectly upturned little nose and your narrow standards of beauty out of my business.

And here’s the funny thing—the absolute hysteria over Snape’s greasy hair. You’d think the guy walked out of a swamp the way people go on about it. But guess what? There are plenty of characters with greasy hair that fans are practically wetting themselves over. Need an example? Loki Laufeyson. That’s right—the Loki. The man’s got exactly the kind of lanky, greasy hair that should, by your standards, render him disgusting. Yet, somehow, there’s a whole legion of fans swooning over him like he’s some fallen god of beauty. Suddenly, greasy hair is mysterious and sexy.

Let’s not forget—Loki is played by none other than Tom Hiddleston, whose appearance is hardly what you’d call ‘conventional.’ He’s not some pretty boy with chiseled features, and yet, there’s no shortage of people who are ready to kneel at the sight of him. So, what happened there? Where’s all the hand-wringing over his greasy locks? Oh, that’s right—there isn’t any. How inconvenient for you and your narrow-minded standards of beauty. It’s almost as if your little squeaks about ugliness are soaked in nothing but shallow, prejudiced nonsense.

Beauty isn’t about ticking off boxes on some checklist of features society has deemed acceptable. It’s personal, subjective, and as varied as human taste. If all you can get behind is some cookie-cutter version of aesthetics, then by all means, live your bland little life. But don’t you dare try to impose that on the rest of us. You don’t get to dictate how others picture characters, just like you don’t get to decide what’s ugly. Beauty’s a wild, unpredictable thing—and it’s about time people stopped trying to cage it with their narrow ideas of what it should be.

[pink-sparkly-witch]

The One That Got Away - Chapter Sixteen

Warnings: language, angst.

Pairing: Firefighter!Dean Winchester x Female Reader

Word count: 2.2k

A/N: I didn’t have a beta for this, so all mistakes are mine.

You can catch up here!

 My Masterlist AO3    Ko-Fi

Another three weeks had passed, and Y/N willed their bad luck wouldn’t strike again tonight. Their last attempt at a second date saw her bedridden with the flu and doubly miserable at another failed attempt to rekindle a relationship with Dean. He had been understanding and told her to rest and drink plenty of fluids, but she knew he must be just as frustrated as she was that Lady Luck seemed to have abandoned all hope on their second chance.

Today though, Y/N felt fit and healthy, Dean wasn’t on shift, and she was spending hers in an empty office catching up on paperwork and overtime claims. She’d instructed her staff to only disturb her if it was absolutely necessary. If things finally went their way, neither should be stuck or injured at work this time, and that thought gave her hope that this would finally be it.

Dean was full of nervous energy and decided the best way to use it up was to give Baby a long overdue tune-up, clean and polish. It was perfect timing, too, because then she would be looking her best when he took Y/N out to the fanciest restaurant Lawrence had to offer, and by the time he was finished, he’d be a few hours closer to his date with Y/N; it was a win-win.

He wasn’t surprised she’d gotten sick and had to cancel last time. The whole day fate hadn’t been working in his favour, so when her text came through, it was the cherry on top of what had been a really fucking shitty day. When he called her later to see how she was, she sounded dreadful, and he’d immediately offered to come over and look after her. Y/N declined, saying all that would achieve was him getting sick too, and then their date would have to be postponed for even longer.

Knowing Y/N was working today made him a little apprehensive that something would crop up at the last second and force another rain check. Still, he was trying to keep that niggling thought buried. And so, with a coffee-filled travel mug, Dean made his way outside with his tools and got to work sprucing up his second best girl.

Her message came in at 4pm.

Y/NCheck the news. I’m so sorry, De xx

Dean closed his eyes in frustration and huffed loudly at their atrocious luck. Turning on the news, he watched the aftermath of an overturned lorry on the freeway, blocking the road in both directions and multiple vehicles colliding with it or other vehicles.

“So far,” the news anchor reported, “there have been five fatalities and over twenty people with injuries of varying severity, and several people are still trapped in their vehicles. Emergency workers are doing all they can to free them, with relief crews being called in to assist.

“Meanwhile, Lawrence Memorial Hospital is nearing its emergency patient capacity and has set up an outdoor triage area for the walking wounded, keeping the hospital building free for those with more serious injuries that need attending to.”

His cell rang shortly after, and Dean was only briefly disappointed that it wasn’t Y/N. He knew she’d be swamped, and he probably wouldn’t hear from her until everyone from the accident had been treated. Still, he had a sliver of hope that it might’ve been her.

“Bobby, I just saw the news,” Dean answered the call.

“So you know why I’m calling?” Bobby said, his question rhetorical. “I’m sorry to ask you to work when you’re supposed to have plans tonight…”

“It’s fine. Y/N’s on shift and already sent me a text cancelling. It’ll be all hands on deck at the hospital, so I might as well come in. At least it’ll stop me from drowning my sorrows,” Dean chuckled sadly.

“I’m sorry, Dean. I’m sure you’ll get that date soon,” Bobby replied, but right now, that wasn’t much comfort to the younger man.

“I’m starting to think we should just cut our losses. Maybe something’s trying to tell us something,” Dean scoffed.

“Dean-”

“I’m on my way. I’ll be there in ten,” Dean cut in, not feeling in the mood to hear another person say how perfect they were for each other when the simple task of going on a date seemed impossible.

It would be a long night, but at least he’d have work to keep him from spiralling down the self-depreciation hole he usually did when Y/N had to cancel plans.

With all trapped persons rescued and the accident site secured by police and awaiting cleanup, Dean’s Firehouse had been posted to the triage area at the hospital to help wherever possible. They were giving first aid, handing out food and water, and checking up on patients in the hospital on behalf of concerned family and friends who were outside waiting for news of their loved ones.

He’d even got to speak to Y/N briefly a few times, and those little moments of light in what was otherwise a dark situation had kept his spirits up. And now that the last few patients were being treated, he finally felt he could breathe easier. Maybe, he’d even be able to convince Y/N to go for a bite to eat before they both went home and slept.

Trawling through the hospital’s hallways, Dean’s only focus was finding the nurse who was slowly taking hold of his heart again and taking up most of his thoughts since coming back to town. He almost missed her as he turned another corner and walked down another corridor.

Stepping back to the room he’d just passed, Dean paused at the window, praying he was wrong and that the woman sitting on the floor, arms crossed over her legs and head on her knees, wasn’t Y/N. Opening the door and quietly stepping into the room, his heart ached at the realisation that it was her and that the usually strong and kept-together nurse was in tears.

“Hey, Princess, what’s the matter?” Dean asked, making his way over and crouching in front of her. Y/N looked at him, eyes red and puffy, her cheeks wet with tears, and he threw all caution to the wind as he sat beside her, pulled her into his lap, and wrapped his arms around her.

They remained embraced on the floor for a while before Y/N’s tears stopped, and she’d stopped gasping in shallow breaths between her heartwrenching sobs. Dean was at a loss on what to do at first, but then he remembered that this was Y/N. His Y/N. And though she was stronger than she looked and more capable than people gave her credit for, sometimes the only way she could process her emotions was to cry.

“Sorry, I needed that,” Y/N eventually spoke and wiped at her eyes. “Days like this, when we lose so many people, never get easier to process. Sometimes I just need a little time to cry it all out.”

“No need to explain to me, Princess. I’ve known you my whole life, and I know that if you don’t let it out now, it’ll eat away at you and eventually consume you. I’ll always be here to ground you whenever you feel like that, alright?”

“Thank, De,” she sniffled and smiled softly at him. “I suppose we should get back out there, huh?”

“In a few minutes. The last patients are being treated, and Ellen, Jody, and Bobby have called a staff briefing at 5am. We’ve got a little time to calm you down some more,” Dean kissed her forehead and smiled, wrapping his arms around her a little tighter and pulling her into his body a little closer.

After urging everyone who’d gathered for the briefing in the hospital canteen to have something to eat before they went home, Dr Ellen Harvelle, Charge Nurse Rowena Macleod, Sheriff Jody Mills, and Fire Chief Bobby Singer thanked their staff for the exceptional job they’d all done in the face of such tragedy and dismissed them from their duties. Reserve police officers and firefighters had started their shifts early to allow those who’d worked all night to go home and rest.

The doctors, nurses and hospital staff who’d been on shift when the accident happened or been called in as backup would be relieved by those who’d either volunteered to stay and work a double shift or agreed to come in on a rest day.

Dean got to have breakfast with Y/N after all, but they were joined by Benny, Bobby, and Jody. He couldn’t complain, though, as he saw the smile come back to Y/N’s face as she talked to Jody and playfully rolled her eyes at Benny’s southern charm and blatant flirting. Dean didn’t rise to the Cajun’s bait, knowing that was exactly what he wanted.

“Now, I know you’re a workaholic, Y/N, but please tell me you didn’t volunteer to stay on?” Uncle Bobby asked with the stern look that never made her listen to him when she was a child and certainly wouldn’t make her listen to him now.

“No, I didn’t. I’ve been working for…” Y/N glanced at the fob watch attached to her scrub top pocket, “twenty-three and half hours. If I stay any longer, I would be endangering the patients, particularly because I haven’t had a break, let alone any sleep.”

“Good. You look like death warmed up,” Bobby stated before shovelling a forkful of scrambled eggs into his mouth.

“Yeah…” Y/N sighed and rubbed a hand down her face. “I feel like it too.”

“Go home, honey, before you fall asleep at the table!” Jody chuckled, and Y/N responded with a lopsided smile before grabbing the empty plate and used cutlery and standing from her seat.

“Alright, I’m going! Uncle Bobby, Jody, I’ll see you Sunday. Benny, it was nice to see you again,” she smiled tiredly at the blue-eyed man.

“You too, cher. Take care of yourself, you hear?” Benny winked at her before digging back into his breakfast.

Dean stood and lifted his used dishes and walked with her to place them on the counter, which was home to all the used crockery. “You doing okay, Y/N?”

“Yeah, nothing a hot shower and a decent sleep won’t fix,” she smiled.

“Alright. Call me later, once you’ve had some sleep?” Dean asked with a raised brow.

“Of course,” she smiled. “I hope you’re going home to get some sleep too?”

“Yeah, we’ll probably have another debrief back at the firehouse, then, I am going home and crawling straight into bed,” he chuckled at her smile of approval and with a final farewell, Y/N left the hospital canteen, grabbed her purse from her locker and went home to sleep.

Waking up hours later when the sun had gone down, Y/N lay in bed trying to process everything that had happened the past few days. It was always tragic when they lost a patient, and serious incidents like yesterday were awful and never got easier to deal with. In moments like this, it was easier to think of the tens of patients they saved than the six they had lost.

The next thing to cross her mind was Dean. Y/N had been glad he was posted at the hospital because she was really starting to miss him. The first couple of times they couldn’t go on their date, she’d still been able to see him, but she hadn’t seen him in twelve days because she’d been so ill with flu, and she didn’t want Dean to see her like that. Sure, it might have been extremely vain of her to think that way, but she felt it was too soon to be at her absolute worst with him.

Y/N was also disappointed that things kept coming up. Granted, neither of them had chosen what happened to stall progress on their budding relationship. No one could’ve predicted her father would die right after their first date and put any thought of another date onto the back burner for weeks.

Neither of them could’ve guessed that Jess would need to finish work early and Y/N would need to be the one to take her shift, nor could Dean or her have done anything to stop Cas from getting injured on a call. And there was no way either could have foreseen what happened yesterday, resulting in them having to work.

Suddenly, she had an overwhelming pang in her chest and a strong urge to be with him, to say to hell with the fates, dates, plans, and schedules. She just needed to be with him. Needed him.

Knowing Dean wouldn’t be working after pulling an all-night shift, Y/N threw the bed covers off her body and showered. She was going to go over. Who needed a date anyway? She and Dean had been on hundreds of those and, she hoped, would go on hundreds more.

This was no longer about want for Y/N. It was about need.

Next Chapter >>

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[onepiece-polls]

Ugly Outfits Tournament - Round 2 Side D

Propaganda under the cut.

Sanji:

Sanji has always STRUGGLED to dress himself in One Piece films for a long time but Strong World is the worst offender. Holy shit.

I feel like Zoro pointed out that his casual wear tends to blind anyone who sees it and he should stick to wearing ties, so Sanji said "fuck you" and put on the worst tie he owns just to spite him.

You know, he would actually look good in this. But that TIE.

Usopp:

I THINK there was a plot-relevant reason as to why he dressed like this but even if there was I don’t forgive him. I cant forgive him.

film z really decided to give usopp all the clown looks. seriously, usopp usually has pretty good fits, which makes this stand out as particularly atrocious. just look at it, it's so bad and it's so funny. the clashing neon colors, the blinding green jacket, the polka dot underwear, the fucking? mushroom?? hat?? it makes no sense and it's terrible and i honestly kinda love it.

Its so horrendous. I love that one of the first things you hear in this movie is that Brook is going to handle getting everyone's new clothes/disguises, and then you cut to Usopp wearing this. I need to know how much input Brook had in this outfit vs Usopp. They are both usually so fashionable on their own, but you see their powers combined and we get this mess.

Film Z’s outfits normally shred. Here, Usopp is sporting a highlighter green jacket and a crop top with a bow tie. Normally that’d be fine (sans jacket), but the ensemble was so pricy that Usopp couldn’t afford pants.

I don't even know what is going on here aside from Disaster Trainwreck

[jocelynmakenna]

It's time for my two cents to the umbrella academy season 4 clusterfuck:

Hey what the fuck was that?

Like I was perfectly fine with the time skip and even though there were some weird choices (cough Klaus) I was perfectly fine to see where it was going to go.

But what the fuck.

Every fucking episode was worse than the one before, finding new ways to trash the characters and ruin any chance at a character arc for any of them.

The lack of discussion of prior seasons (like are we gonna mention ANY of Allison's atrocious behavior?) was kind of odd but I can move past that seeing as they got a 4 episode cut. The season tried to return to a status quo that it implied existed but never defined, leaving it feeling empty.

But let's talk about the characters MY GOD. I'll start with the obvious. Five and Lila? Why??? WHY??? Like overall, the actors have great chemistry but ROMANCE??? Absolutely not. I think a dad/daughter relationship is much more fitting for them at minimum. If I were writing this season, my biggest change to the train arc would have been to have Five with like Klaus. Giving Klaus distance from his family could have served the story better than... I don't know BURYING HIM IN A DEAD DOG'S GRAVE AFTER A WOMAN USED HIS BODY TO HAVE SEX WITH A GHOST WHICH OF COURSE ONLY HAPPENED BECAUSE A GUY WANTED HIS MONEY WHICH JUST IS SO CLOSE TO SA IT MIGHT JUST BE BUT YK GOTTA MOVE ON GOTTA TALK ABOUT BEN NOW.

Because Ben!! Spends the first like two episodes bitching about how the umbrella academy folks aren't his family (because they're not) and then he dumps everything for a girl he happened to touch(???) and then starts the apocalypse. Like congrats man on being the most macguffin of a person ever.

Viktor was overall fine. I have nothing too harsh to say about him, but once again, his acceptance of Allison in his life after she KILLED HIS DISABLED ADOPTED SON is wild. Allison continued having her character ruined by being a "bad" mom which like. Why did you destroy the original universe to get your daughter back to be a bad mom.

Diego and Luther were just. There. They took up space and screentime with nothing important nor interesting. Everything about them and their arc sucked the fun out of the entire show. Luther being comedic relief could have been a fine choice if they bothered to have him DO anything important.

I'm sorry I'm talking about the love triangle again WHY!! FIVE AND LILA AND DIEGO IS WEIRD. ITS SO WEIRD. ITS QUITE LITERALLY THE WORST CANON SHIP IVE EVER SEEN (yes that includes Reylo at least they had ~force connection~ rather than just being sad and fucking your BROTHERS WIFE). WHO YOU HAVE KNOWN SINCE SHE WAS 6. WHEN YOU MURDERED HER PARENTS. AND THEN SHE'S KNOWN YOU EVER SINCE. INCLUDING THE TIME YOUR BRAIN WAS IN THE BODY OF A CHILD. A MINOR. ITS YUCKY ITS NASTY. ITS AWFUL.

Ok the ending. Nothing pisses me off more than a show that decides to undo itself at the end (I'm looking at you Legion, you had so much promise up until the end). The cleanse was Fine. It definitely could have been done better, explained more, built up more etc. I will blame that again on a lack of episodes but there's SO MUCH that could have been cut to make the season flow better (perhaps like the 7 years of train problems!). And then the cowards move of just. Killing off all the main characters (or actually removing the characters from history. It reeks of lazy writing and just. Not caring.

Overall - 2/10

Crazy how this show ended on that season 3 cliff hanger!

[noxturnalmoth]

Scalpels and Paintbrushes || Chishiya Shuntarô x Reader

- read ��til the end for notes -

When a freelance artist travels to Japan to rekindle her passion for art and her life, she finds herself in a whole other predicament. Dangerous games, dangerous people, a dangerous world with dangerous rules. She’s alone, fending for herself, until she meets a disoriented medical student that will bring her comfort but might bring more difficulties and heartbreak aswell.

Chapter 9: Fleeting moments

And with this Kuina came back and fake smiles were exchanged, I went to serve myself food and we talked, small talk, just like strangers would.

After that the rest of the day was a blur. I went to my room and cryied harder than I had in months. Of course he had to come back when I was finally fine without him. It's always what happens, old habits die hard and old demons are not easy to kill.

So to the bar it was.

The walk there was okay, I bumped into couples shoving their tongues in each other's throats and militants acting tough. But once arrived in the bar the noise was almost too much to handle. I had to get what I wanted to get and quick.

"Hey, do you have two bottles of...you know what I'm too tired to give a fuck. Give me two bottles of whatever you have that's the strongest."

"I'm on it babe!"

And as soon as I blinked two bottles of absinthe were shoved on the counter.

"Have fun!"

Yeah. I don't know about this one. And I wave to the bartender as I leave the overcrowded bar and make my way into the building. Asking around here and there for directions on how to get to the rooftop I pass by the clothing room to get a vest to cover myself since the swimsuit barely did so.

"Oh, what are you?"

I feel something hard in the pocket of the cardigan, an iPod with its earphones intact? It was matte black and seemed in good condition. And as I clicked on the buttons it lit up.

It had battery.

"Did your previous owner have taste little one?"

And with that I continued to make my way up, absinthe bottles shoved in the deep pockets of the cardigan and clinking as my thighs pushed me up the stairs. My hand was occupied in scrolling as I listened through the downloads with one earphone in.

And once I arrived on the rooftop I sat on the edge, finally finding a song peaceful enough to fit what I wanted.

"Not bad. I'd thank your owner if they were still here. Although I guess I am your owner now huh? Shit, what am I doing talking to myself. You've gone crazy Humpty Stumpty, that's it, Chishiya was the final blow to your poor ole mind."

Absinthe in hand, I put it between my thighs and unscrew the cap. The strong herbal scent of the liquor hitting me in the face, more and more when I bring the bottle to my lips.

"Well, here's to me and still being alive although I'm losing it. I hope you've got your drinks on too Hide, Yumeko. I miss you guys."

And with that I drank, swift and hefty swigs were taken from the bottle as the music in my ears calmed the ringing silence of loneliness and hid the atrocious noisiness of the partying downstairs.

It was crazy how the sky was beautiful since all industrial activity stopped, it was so clear, the air was so clean. But was it worth it if all we had left was hell on Earth?

"Doesn't it burn?"

"It does, but it doesn't mean it's bad."

"It isn't meant to be drank this way you know?"

"I know, it doesn't mean I can't. There's nothing we can't do around here, I don't know if it's such a good thing as everyone makes it to be though."

I give him the bottle. Him, the man in white, the familiar stranger, the old demon I welcome back in my nights. And he drinks. And no other words are uttered as we watch the world in silence.

First Month:

Days passed and Kuina was a great girl, but being around her meant being around Chishiya. But I stayed, I stayed because I didn't want her to be hurt. She could fend for herself but I guess I just couldn't leave her to be alone with him, just in case.

Niragi was still annoying, comming ever so often to hit on me and annoy Shuntarô as I learnt he loves to do.

"So baby, what are you doing tonight? Going for a game?"

"Yes."

"I've been nice to you, c'mon give me something. A sentence that is more than a word, I don't know!"

"You've been hitting on me. I don't want you. You're violent and bat shit insane, that ain't what I want to link myself with."

He rolls his eyes and his fingers twitch around his rifle as he approaches me, and I face him head on.

"You're as violent as I am."

"Not by choice."

"But you could be, let yourself go!"

"Why would I want to, then I'd be nothing more than an animal."

"Did-"

"Did I say you were a wild feral beast? Yeah. You say that shit is human nature but don't you mean you stooped as low as becoming an unruly raging animal? Human nature is being intelligent enough to keep our instincts and unchecked desires out of society. By either taking control of them in a safe environment or erasing them."

And with that I go to the car where the rest of the people going to the same game as me are while he yells after me, finally reaching his boiling point. Once I arrived there, there is only one other person in the car. Shuntarô Chishiya.

"And thus Frankenstein's beast and her master are once again together."

Saying nothing I enter the driver's seat and start the engine, speeding towards our next game, a school

Once arrived there everything looked overrun by nature. It was growing much faster now that human intervention had ceased. And I slowly walked through thepath, admiring the great location and trying to put some distance between Chishiya and I.

Once arrived, we both take the phones given, validating our inscription to the game. Then a chime made itself known.

"Welcome Participents. Game: Eight of Clubs, Aka Manto. The players will all get to the toilets and enclose themselves in a cubicle, there they will have 5 minutes to make a choice. Once the choice has been made, people having chosen the same answer will be put into pairs within the same group. The pairs will be given a list of objects. The objective will be for these pairs to find these objects as fast as possible and stop Aka Manto's chase. The ones that cannot do so and are not already dead will suffer the consequences. You will have one hour."

"So they sai-"

"I understood Chishiya."

His eyebrows lift and I roll my eyes.

Aka Manto, we'd most likely be given the choice between red and blue toilet paper once in the cubicle, each color meaning a different death. Blue meaning suffocation until we become blue and red being stabbed until we are covered in our own blood. So once I entered mine I immediately picked red. Dying suffocating has got to be one of the worst things I could think of, and I'd rather be able to go against a stabbing maniac and have a chance of stealing their weapon.

"Teams are chosen. Red team go to the east wing, Blue team to the west wing. You have 10 minutes until start of the game."

"You've chosen red too?"

"I prefer reserving choking for the bedroom."

"Niragi would be elated."

I glare at him.

"Listen, I know you wanna piss me off but we really need to think of what to give to who and not be stupid in our decisions."

"We should team up."

"What did I say about NOT being stupid about our decisions?"

"We're both very intelligent. We'd get out quickly and easily. If you see people you want to help, go and help them, but together we'd have the most chances."

And with that I sigh. He was right, as much as I hated to admit it. So we paired up. Seeing our list I groaned out loud. We needed to find a daruma, two traditional japanese dolls, red thread, chalk, candles, salt and matches.

A purifying ritual.

"I fucking hate this already."

"You hate a lot of stuff."

"No shit Sherlock. Let's start already, chalk would be easy enough, in a class. Red thread and dolls...a sewing club?"

"Mh. Candles would maybe be in the teachers' lounge, or maybe if there's a drama club. And salt in the mess hall or kitchen."

"Matches and a daruma doll..some sort of janitor's closet?"

"Yeah it could fit. Where do they say the ritual has to be done?"

"Basement of course."

He hums and we get to work first would be the teachers' lounge, I lead the way since I was stronger physically. And we rounded corners after corners, hearing our panicked fellow red team pairs scambling about, until we attained the lounge and separated to check every cabinet present.

"Got them!"

I nodded back and we started to get going to our next location, the janitor's closet on the first floor where we could also get to both the mess hall and the kitchen. But all of a sudden the door opened and a tall figure in red holding a butcher knife entered and we were lucky enough to duck in time.

I signal Chishiya to not move as I look slightly over the table, they wore a mask that most likely impaired their vision but two people leaving would be impossible as it'd cause too much noise. So I duck back down and nod my head at the white haired male to continue to his left and get to the door, probably thinking I'd follow him he did.

"Hey asshole try and get a piece of that!"

And as I uttered those words Chishiya looked at me, almost too fast, and I motionned for him to run. I'd distract the Aka Manto, and he'd get what we need from downstairs. He begrudgingly followed my plan and I started running to the opposite side, if I couldn't outrun him, I'd outsmart him. And if I could do neither, I'd keep him at bay.

I turned corners, climbed stairs up and down yelled in the corridors so that other teams would know to run, but the damned bastard wouldn't leave me alone. So I hatched a plan, I'd go downstairs as planned but I'd kill the fucker. He'd die anyways if he lost the game, so how about I make it easier for him? And so with newfound vigor I sprint to the stairs, making it down the last flight and into the last corridor before the mess hall.

"(y/n)!"

"Chishiya run, now!"

He scrambled in the kitchen from where he was in the mess hall and I heard a loud bang of the doors opening and loud and fast thumps, Aka Manto was here.

"C'mere big guy! You want a fight? I'll give you one!"

I run to him and slide to my knees, kicking his legs from under him and he falls to the ground, groaning. As I roll back he catches my right leg and nicks it pretty bad with his meat cleaver, and as he was about to bring it down to strike again I kicked it our of his hands and quickly got to my feet. Not getting greedy in hitting the opponent I take the cleaver.

"Now we're talking."

Doors opened and two other teams came in, the Aka Manto, feeling disadvantaged tried to go to them first but I put myself in front muttering a "no you don't". The other pairs knew to run away from here fast as I held the cleaver up in front of me.

I'm gonna shish kabob that motherfucker.

He attacks first and he is fast and much heavier than me, I evade once, then twice but the third time he changes up his tactic and kicks my diaphragm. As I am proulsed backwards, my lungs cough up all the air I held. My hand still gripped the knife and it seemed to iritate the guy, he became more agressive, beating my face in thinking he could beat me to unconsciousness then kill me and get on with his day.

So I act as if I was going to punch him with my left hand and he diverts his attention enough for me to lift my arm and bring the cleaver down with enough force that I sliced through his clavicle.

The rest was fairly easy. I turned us around, using the momentum he had as he fell to his right. Once on top of him, I hit his neck enough times to behead the guy. Rolling on my back next to him, in a puddle of blood mind you, I take back my breath. The edges of my vision were black from the beating and I was losing blood but I'd be fine enough for another thirty minutes or so.

So I stood up and with staggered steps made my way to where Chishiya would be by now.

"You were fast, you got to the basement before I did you ass."

"And you look like you've gone to hell and back."

"I'm fine, you should see the other guy. D'you need help with anything?"

"Nah, go rest."

"Fuck off, do we do it in a circle or...?"

"Yeah, and wr-"

"wrap the red thread around and between the dolls tying them together. The salt is for purification purposes, red thread means fate, dolls are the world of the living and the Aka Manto, the candles are ritualistic in nature, the chalk is the border."

"Wow, you know your stuff. Did you read the thing?"

"How could I, I was flirting with death. Nah it's pretty basic spiritual knowledge and connecting the dots by this point."

And so we lit the red thread and our phones chimed, we were free.

"Good job."

"Yeah, you too."

And times and times again Chishiya would be in the same game team as I. So much so that I thought he did it on purpose. It would be totally counterproductive though, why spend months avoiding me to start and be close again? There was no way he'd apologise and reveal what he was hiding.

It didn't take a genius to see that his confession was made of half truths. There was something he didn't tell me, and maybe it was the reason he hovered around me, even in spade missions in which he'd be at a disadvantage.

But who was I to force anything out of him?

So I let it go.

"What are you thinking about? And don't say 'nothing' again or I swear I'll throw you out of the window."

"Just, getting lost in thoughts about the past."

"Yeah I know what your mean, but you do it a lot more when you come back from games with Chi- nOOOOO WAY."

"No Kuina, it's not love."

"Bu-"

"No, I know how he is. I don't want none of that with him anymore."

"What do you mean anymore? Did you have a crush on him? Were you together and you didn't tell me?"

"No to both."

"Were you not truly strangers when I introduced you two?"

"Touché."

"Wow I smell drama. Don't worry, I won't ask if you're worrying about that, but I did feel the tension between you guys. I just thought it was sexual!"

"Wha-"

Second month:

I got used to him lurking around, like some sort of weird guardian angel. Still annoyed me though.

"You know that I know you're here."

"I know that you know that I know."

"Stop being a smartass."

He chuckles and sits besides me. Evenings with him became, against my will, a routine. I'd go drink on the rooftop, occasionally with a cigarette or two, music in my ears and him in my shadow. It'd be silent for most part, my fight having mellowed out; he could fight back and he was Chishiya anyways, he's so stubborn I had become tired of fighting behind Kuina's back unless he truly got on my nerves.

"What are you listening to?"

"What? Why'd you want to know?"

"I'm bored."

"Tell me something new."

I give him the earbud I do not use and that is how the last of our conversation fizzles away as the playlist rolls through and the bottle of booze goes from me to him, from him to me, until no more amber liquid is left.

"It reminds me of our first night drinking together, back at the mall."

I hum.

"Didn't think you'd remember Shuntarô."

"Didn't think you'd want to talk about it."

"My fight is gone, I'm tired emotionally and physically, I don't care anymore Chishiya. I can't spend the rest of my days hating you this much. But I'll never forgive you that's for sure."

"I'm sorry."

"Try when you're not drunk, your eyes are droopy and you're swaying.... but thanks anyways."

"So you don't hate me?"

"I just heavily dislike you. Go sober up Chishiya."

He mumbles and leaves, and I smile, taking a whiff of the cool midnight air. He's always softer when he's drunk.

Third Month:

"Do you do this on purpose?"

"Do what?"

He says chewing on his snack, looking at the road ahead decors flying by as I drive the both of us to yet another game.

"Stick to me like a chewing gum to my soles on a summer day?"

"Maybe."

"You're gonna need to give me a bit more than that Shuntarô."

"You're less boring than the others people around here, it ain't my fault."

"You almost sound like you actually want to be with me."

"Ew, don't credit yourself this much it's disgusting."

"Riiiight, keep following me then. Creep."

Senso-ji Temple was our stop of the evening. Our game first seemed easy enough, Hide and seek, but in a gigantic space, seekers would be human, have human reflexes an thought processes.

I was very wrong.

"LEAVE ME THE FUCK ALONE YOU GIANT SPIDER FUCK."

Giant robotic spiders.

GIANT ROBOTIC SPIDERS WERE THE SEEKERS.

They had night vision and were unable to get tired, the whole group got killed within minutes.

"CHISHIYA YOU ASS I'M HELPING WITH YOUR PLAN AT LEAST HELP ME BACK."

The objective was to find the 'nest' and destroy it because of course they'd have a nest.

"Okay I see where it is, distract it some more."

"I've been doing it since THE PAST TEN MINUTES YOU DUMBASS"

He chuckles and cuts the signal of his walkie talkie. "It's me and you now you disgusting eight legged freak....please help me God" My thoughts keep bouncing back and forth from confident to scared shitless as this immense metal arachnid closes the distance between us.

I had to think fast.

The giant gongs. I was dying, my breath getting shorter but I had to go faster, get the spider so lazer focused she'd hit the gong. And so that's what I did. Sprinting even faster I was thinking of how I'd kill Chishiya if I ever died because of a giant spider robot, and how I'd make it as painful as possible. My legs pushed by faster and faster, and faster until I slid under the gong and the spider hit it so hard the noise resonated through Tokyo. It was down for maybe a few seconds, letting me catch my breath on the ground, but quickly got back up and when I thought it was the end I saw a huge source of light coming from behind the temple. The spider exploded, some shrapnel cutting me, but the motherfucker had saved be just in time.

"Game clear. Congratulations."

And with a heavy sigh I fall to the ground, something coming to poke my side with its foot.

"Next time, you run." I pant.

And he helps me up, chuckling and muttering a "in your dreams", giving me a pat on the back.

Fourth month:

That night I didn't go outside, my body was aching and I was simply too tired to care, choosing to go listen to music on my bed instead. The game didn't go well, it was a game of heart and it required of me to lie to get people to kill each other. There was a bunch of kids there.

I just killed a bunch of kids.

It raised the bile to my throat. You do what you need to do to survive, but that shit. Killing people that haven't done shit to you? It always feels the worst. It's the type of blood that can't be erased no matter how much you wash and scratch your skin so your own blood hides the one of the innocents.

"There's blood on your bedsheets."

"I know. Don't worry it's mine." I sniff, fat tears rolling down my face out from my closed eyes.

I hear a sharp inhale and scrambling around until a wet cloth is dabbed around my mouth, if you cant scratch yourself with your other hand your body has other tools.

"You can't keep hurting yourself. You drink, you smoke, you do shit like that, you're deflecting your pains. Using addictions and new pains to make you forget the old ones."

"Wow I love to get psychoanalyzed by my ex." Another sharp intake of breath and a pregnant pause.

Until he scrambles again, washing my arms with antiseptic, I tried to not budge but the pain was intense and I was feeling antsy due to slowly loosing blood.

"Do you want to kill yourself (y/n)? 'Cause you're on the right path to do so."

"Sometimes I do yeah. But I'm not worthy yet, so I keep on going."

My arm finally wrapped up, I curl up on my side.

"You're worthy of more than you think."

"You're just saying that."

"You know I always mean what I say, or at least half of it."

"Way to make me feel better."

I feel the bed dip and a hand going through my hair. It had gotten longer in the time I was at The Beach, around Chishiya's length.

"I should cut it."

"No, let me take care of it."

"...okay."

And so he did. Next day he brushed the nest that was my hair, which I frankly wanted to just shave because of how unnecessary it was. I didn't care much for my looks anymore.

But when Chishiya brushed my hair and washed it, it reminded me of that day, months and months ago. A day that I wanted to forget like I wanted to forget him back then. But, one of my reasons for being how I am now.

He was so gentle with me today, as if I were glass. In the mirror I saw nothing but a broken woman and looked at myself with disdain. But he looked, hopeful somehow. And as I looked at his face I sighed.

"Your hair looks like shit. Sit." And he did.

"Your hair looks like tarmac with a piss poor covering of snow on it."

And with that and the slight sound of the iPod, I opened the bleaching kit I found under his sink. Preparing the mixture and gently putting it on Chishiya's hair. The fumes were horendous but his hair was finally back to platinum, so I washed his hair and dried it as gently as I could while I watched his shoulder and face relax from the mirror.

"I missed this." He said as he opened his eyes and looked up at me, a small smile on his lips. I scowl.

"Shut up, I just don't want to be indebted to you."

But all I did was hide the fact that,

I missed this too.

Fifth month:

"JESUS CHISHIYA GET YOUR LEGS TO RUN FASTER."

Another hospital games. Those were fun right? Yeah no, they weren't ever fun. This time it was a club game, once again.

But we had to run, and fast.

We had to find creepy dolls all around the hospital to smash em and get a piece of a code which we all communicated to each other via walkie talkie.

Turns out that when we smash a doll, we get ten minutes in which our position is revealed to the killer, and he was efficient. Probably a merc, but definitely someone that we needed to outsmart since we couldn't out run him. So we brought him to the maze that is the OR floor. Just a bunch of doors leading from one room to the other, to the corridor, to yet another room.

How wrong we were to bring him here.

"I think we lost him." I pant.

"Yeah, good job. Stay here, I saw a doll in the observing room."

"Sure."

I lean on the counter and as I take a breather. The lights turn off.

"Shuntarô, this is too familiar. Shun?"

"The door is locked, fuck. We're trapped."

"Shit, it's starting to smell weird in here."

"DONT INHALE IT- (y/n)? (Y/N)?!"

And as I feel my consciousness slipping, I feel a stinging in my stomach area.

. . . . ..n)

. .

. .../n)

. .

(y/n)

.

(y/n) please wake up, please.

I feel my body being rocked back and forth as my numbed senses come back to me.

"Chi-"

"Please, don't die on me, not yet. You can't, you need to stay alive."

"Chishiya what the fuck?"

He stops his mumbling, now that my eyes were less hazy I could see it. Streams of tears were running down his cheeks, I was back in my room, on my bed, in Chishiya's arms. And it all came back to me, the hospital, it was like back then, when I lost my arm. So I do what I can and take him in my arm as he collapses of exhaustion.

I set him on my bed and lay next to him. It was the second time it happened, we really shouldn't get separated in hospitals. And as sleeps overtakes me, he holds me.

And that's the last time I see him before he ignores me again.

<Prev /Next>

M.list

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Whew, that man is a rollercoster. Loves me, loves me not. They are dancing around each other and soon enough we'll have some action. Next chapter is the start of canon stuff related to the series so I hope you guys are ready, because I sure am! Also, I hope you like my amputee jokes for mc from last chapter, there will be some more when I feel the context is good enough. Merry Christmas y'all!

[strawberry-nugget]

the void you fill

Pairing: Eijiro Kirishima / reader

Summary / author's note: shameless self ship fic that i wrote about a helpless situationship with kirishima

Warnings: angst, mentions of sex(kinda? they do have sex but its not that graphic), smoking. kirishima is kinda an asshole bc hes a libra man. All characters are over the age of 20, minors do not interact

Word count: 4 k

You've ghosted him for a month when your doorbell rings at 2 am on a Wednesday night. It's not like you count the days, but it's not like you don't either -because when the sudden sound makes you jump from your spot on your couch, almost causing you to drop your plate and all its fillings, you find yourself hoping, praying, that it's him. 

You tell yourself that it's an atrocious thought at least, that he's a guy you got to spend time with, got attached, never even dated and now you have to get over, but your plate lays forgotten on your sofa nonetheless, bread crumbs and some of the oregano you've sprinkled on your yakitori, pooling all around the plate. 

It's almost frightening to take the steps to your intercom, and a million thoughts run through your head at the speed of light -who could this be around such an hour, or even what would they want. For a second you think that maybe it's Kyouka or perhaps another friend of yours, that it's an emergency, but then that thought gets sucked into the back of your brain when you press the button of the intercom. 

No one seems to answer and your heart is set at ease again. Maybe it's food delivery and they've gotten the name on the doorbell wrong. It happens, though not very often, but it never fails to give you a rush of anxiety. 

And everything's fine, until it's not.

Everything's fine until the intercom buzzes again. Everything's fine until you realise that whoever rang your bell was indeed there for you and everything's fine until you almost fall to your knees when you hear the voice that calls back to you from the little speaker of your intercom. 

"Heyy, it's me, Eijiro"

He speaks as if he doesn't have a single care in the whole world. As if he's so carefree and always kind, it's so typical of him that you almost forget it should be freezing outside. Is he ever cold? You wonder. You havent heard his voice in so long it almost sounds fake, like a dream. One like those youve been repeatedly having.

"Can I come in?"

"Ah sure I guess" -lies- you don't want him to come in, you want to be left alone, but your tongue is faster than your brain

"Floor?"

"Fifth"

…..

Kirishima fills a weird space in the void of your apartment. You're not quite sure he fits into place, too tall and bulky, too happy go lucky for the moodiness of everything that makes this house your home. 

It's perhaps your first impression of him going through your door, barely fitting in doing so, or how he looked as dumb as a fish when he got out of the elevator, searching for your apartment at the right side of the elevator when he could clearly see you were -waiting with your front door almost all the way open- to the left. 

You don't know why he's here and by the looks of it he doesn't either. He looks around a lot and you assume it's because of the new space that lies around him. Small house, not much to see, except for your posters and maybe the pile of cigarettes on the ashtray in the middle of your coffee table there's nothing that could give away your life -oh maybe the collection of beer cans by the sofa should be a candidate on that list as well. 

"You're going through it"  Is the first thing he utters to you and it feels like he's going to run away. You'd hate to be in his place. You've avoided being in his place for oh so long and now it's come to bite you in the ass. 

"how do you have my address?"

"I asked jiro" And you're supposed to trust her after that. "I just really wanted to see you" 

Kirishima wants and you give. It goes like this on the regular. On days you're not even feeling yourself, you end up wanting to reach out, to be human, to show that there's an ounce in you that cares for his well being more than you care about your stupid ego. And youre not quite sure you get your point across. tha t youre sweet. That you give when no one wants to take that your empathy is something everyone should admire and for that they shouldnt let you go. 

Youre not even sure sweet old eijiro thinks of you as the angel youre trying to present yourself as, youre not sure he cares. You feel annoying most of the time. Wrapped up in feelings you shouldn't have, covered by a thick blanket of denial -eijiro doesn't want you, your friends say, or perhaps he does and he can't handle you- and you don't know what of these two is more confusing.

And him being here right now, feels surreal. Theres no clue that point to him caring about you and yet hes visiting you out of the blue, like its something that he does every single day, so casually and easily played. 

Played.

The right word for it. Cause that's what youre being right now. Played. And even though you know it, nothing makes you want to kick him out. The longer he stays, the longer his smell will linger into your apartment, and maybe that will even stop you from smocking. The sullen sulking in your living room, wrapped in your fleece blanket, crying your heart out over the man that stands before you this very second. Youve already pictured it.

“Why did you want to see me?”

He doest reply directly, only because he sees you fidget with your fingers -he knows youre nervous, hes nervous too- and he knows youre looking for your pack of tobacco. So its a notice more than a sentence thats nicely worded when he opens his mouth to say “well i was wondering how youve been”

Your heart sinks a little by the time theres a filter tip stuck between your lips. He could have texted. Its been so long. He could have called or texted if he wanted to show you that cares. Hell, he could have announced he was on his way to your house in some kind of way so you wouldnt have to go through this right now. Yet there's joy and emotional fulfillment at the thought of him taking this extreme measure.

“Ive been good, thanks” your reply dryly and he chuckles again

“Well I'm not a random off the street. Elaborate.”

“Ive been doing great. Drowning in homework but otherwise ive been well”

He looks at you and then he looks around. Theres a sunken misery in your space that he cant quite name. A hint of him being unwanted, youd like to think that thats the vibe your emitting and if its not, you hope the first drag of your cigarette takes your thoughts away. But nothing shut your brain down.

“I see that” he says and his lips run to the side of his face “you shouldnt smoke inside”

Now its you who wont reply, not out of spite, but just because you lack the courage to stand up and tell him you just cant find the strength to walk to your balcony. How could he ever understand that at the mention of his name your legs go numb and your heart palpitates? How could he know that and not run away?

Its best he doesnt know. 

That it's over bearing being in the same room as him, now that he’s not touching you , now that hes not placing chaste kisses on the insides of your wrists. Now that things have grown so complicated that you dont know how to act. 

You dont even look at him. Not when you dust off your cigarette at the ashtray, not when take another drag with your head facing your ceiling- maybe now he knows hes over bearing. A burden to your heart. Someone you should have never met because this is so fucking awkward.

From the other side of your couch he cant take his eyes off of you, though, he doesn't seem to want to talk. With one cheek painfully red and the other trying to catch up, his movements look like they're in slow motion until he sees you put out your cigarette. You wouldn't pressure him to talk, you wouldn't pressure him to even stand in the same room as you if that was something you could do. 

You tell yourself a man like kirishima doesnt know how to act. Hes fun to hang out with -or so youve been told- hes smart, hes effortlessly cute and-

“Im sorry i pulled away” and he apologizes too much for things he chooses to do. “Ive been swamped with chores and life has been killing me lately, i couldnt possibly find time to message you on the regular. Theres been so much that i had to do and im so sorry if you fet like im an asshole. I probably am.”

Your bad side wishes its him appreciating how good of a person you are, that his guilt is eating him. But it also tells youthat you mean absolutely nothing to him for him to feel this way. 

Then why is he here? 

Why are you letting him in?

Because theres not a bone of critical thinking in this body of yours when youre in love. And following an unfortunate series of events youve come to the conclusion that youre in love with him.

“You dont have to apologize for things you knowingly do.” you say nonetheless and there's a voice in you that cheers you up for that. Youre a big girl who can stand up on her feet

Him, in turn, is out of words, and when enough time passes by you go for rolling another smoke. Maybe its because you dont wanna fidget anymore, or because you cant be even more nervous, or even because you want him to care; he does- he takes the tobacco off your hands, gently, and his fingers touch your so featherly that you barely even feel them. And theres no electricity, no big thunderous moment that makes you stop and stare into the eternity of his eyes. Yheres familiarity. Comfort. The sole thing that made you fall for him more than anything else. His touch feels natural on you.

Maybe thats his way of showing you he cares. Showing up here unexpectedly, subtly trying to check on your health.

“Are you eating properly?” he asks next, like theres a sack of questions and hes pulling them out one by one. No context whatsoever.

“Im doing the best i can”

“Uhh, want me to uh, cook for you?”

He looks around again and smiles nervously, spasmodically. Like his cheeks cant make any movements on command. And you look away from him as you imagine what itd be like to take another drag of a cigarette right now. 

“Why do you care so much?”

“Youre uh, human i guess” he mutters, unsure of how you’ll take this response. Hes said so many shitty things tonight, you probably dont even have to give him any more answers

Youre silent again, uncomfortably silent, sitting on your very small corner on your own couch, curled up so you wont take space, pointing your whole body away from his so you wont violently enter his field of vision, so you wont bother or annoy him. Youre fine as long as he doest catch up to your tactics, you tell yoursel, but if he doesnt then that means he doesnt care about you, ad if he does your anger will only ever boil more in the pit in your stomach.

You only look at him again when he gets up; its only then that words leave your mouth, because you havent thought them over, the blurt our of you like vomit

“Youre leaving?”

“I uhm, wanted to… cook…”

“You dont have to cook”

“Then should i leave?” he asks and looks at you, as if youre supposed to have a default reply to that. Like you know whether you want him to stay or not 

“I- i dont really have an answer for that” you sigh, in the time hes taken to get up youve already rolled a cigarette, youve already started smoking it as well “i dont mind”

“Its a simple question. Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to go?” the slight temper in his tone is painted on his cheeks, in red, like his hair, like the details on his shirt. Its cute- you think, to have another chance to see him like this, especially when he huffs, frustrated, embarrassed to be in the position that hes in.

You never would have guessed your next meeting would go like that. Itll be entertaining to look back to this moment when youre over him. Yet for now your heart is set on beating at the speed of light at the sight of him walking to where hes taken off his shoes.

“Stay” you mutter, embarrassed just like him, with smoke coming our of your mouth; you must look horrendous, funny even and even though you doubt he ever heard you, you dont miss the way he looks at you, with one shoe in his hand, before he drops it and walks to his side of the couch again.

“We could watch a movie” he suggests as hes sitting down “would you like that?”

You nod, not finding it in you to utter another word to him. Maybe you should have said that. Maybe he did want to leave and now hes feeling guilty over you begging him to stay like that, maybe the space he takes on your couch isnt enough for him and you need to make yourself smaller for him to fit because hes breathtakingly close to you

“I dont wanna keep you here if you wanna go, i wasn't ordering you to stay, of course you can go anytime that you wan-” 

By the time you realize that hes kissed you to shut you up, hes far away from you again, eyes looking anywhere but in yours, his hands still lingers on the top of your shoulder, after having fallen from your face. You dont kiss him back. You feel too embarrassed to dive into his face and kiss him again. And while making the first move for something that you wants isnt something you should be ashamed of, it hurts to think that your kiss will be unwanted.

Youve somehow convinced yourself it will be. 

The movie you chose to watch is silently agreed on. Something you both enjoy. There's no time for arguing over what to watch. You need comfort in familiarity, to feel the warmth of something that you've known, something that'll never change no matter the time and place.

So when you put on the last Jedi there's no second thought about it. 

Interspace fights and romance take you away for a good thirty minutes before there's an interruption to the tune of galactic laser. 

“I'm sorry about our fight" 

You mumble an -almost- inaudible sound. It's so overpowered by the anxiously loud beeps of Star Wars. Kirishima doesn't pause the movie to continue speaking. It's better this way. The noise of the movie fills the void between his sentences. 

"I don't know why I got so fucking mad. I don't even know why I said what I said to you."

"It's okay"

"It's not. Stop pretending that it is. Listen-"

"You don't have to apologize for something that you meant to say"

"But I didn't mean it. I should have never told you you're making me not want you"

"Then why did you?" You pause the movie at this and uncomfortable silence fills the room again. 

It should have been a simple question. No malice behind it but the tune in which you deliver it carries an endless sorrow with it. You're really just asking him why he hates you this much so he can have this temper with you and never feel like he should keep his mouth shut instead of hurting you. 

"You wanted to hurt me, Eijiro. You wanted me to feel defeated. You wanted me to feel bad."

"I wanted to hurt you" He says, his eyes stealing away from yours "but only because I felt hurt too."

It's true. He doesn't know who's with you at nights where he's not. It's more frequent that he's not around and the thought of someone else taking the place he feels like he's earned is killing him. The thought of you seeking out romance in someone else is gut wrenching to him. How could he possibly believe that you're not doing this when he's not offering you what you want? 

He wants to hurt you for hurting him. It's childish. More so when you know you never actually did anything to hurt him. It's his own head that's killing this. His jealousy, his insecurities. The thought of you having all the freedom in the world to find someone else, to fall for someone else. The times you've spent with kirishima aren't numerous, you can count them with one hand and still he- he feels as if letting you go isn't an option. 

"I'm tired of people wanting to hurt me when I've never done anything to hurt them"

"I don't like this. It's fucked up to speak like this to you and I'm sorry. "

You would have accepted his apology. Had it not been for him mastering his most monotonous voice you'd already be on your knees, trying to apologize instead of him. But you won't take that role for now, as much as you'd like to be the one to take the blame for everything you just can't. 

"Kyouka said I shouldn't talk to you about this, that you'll get mad. But your words and actions do hurt me. I want you. It's hard for me not to care about how you choose to act towards me."

He scoffs, of course he scoffs, and buries his head in his palms. You wouldn't know about the lamp in his throat, you wouldn't even know about that anxious feeling in his gut. Same way he doesn't know about yours. He doesn't know that you feel as if you've made the worst mistake of your life for uttering the words you did. He doesn't know you're about to make it worse. 

"I don't wanna lose you"

"What's there to lose?" He asks and you beg to repeat what you said. 

"I don't wanna lose you"

The words in his brain are reduced to none. There's neither a simple nor a complex sentence that can be woven in his mind. His spit is dry in the back of his throat, but a sound, even the one that comes from cleaning your throat, is prohibited. 

There's no reply to your words and your confession lingers in the air uncomfortably as he unfreezes the movie. Maybe the cure for this could be his hand that comes to wrap around you. To bring you closer. Closer and closer until he's pressing your head into his chest -even that's a little bit uncomfortable on the physical realm- so much you can hear his heartbeat. 

You know this sound. It left you in awe when it wouldn't slow down around you. It had once made you feel special. Now it's an indulgence you allow yourself to fall into. A way to calm your crazed mind down, maybe, maybe, if you closed your eyes you'd cherish it even more. You'd hear it better -since it's already overshadowed the sound of Star Wars in the background- you'd imprint it in your brain. 

There's no complaining coming from your side or his. With the way you're curled up on each other, there's no actual space between you, therefore, no space for your insecurities to hop in between. There's no wondering whether he wants it or not, whether he's cuddling you for his enjoyment or to shut your pestering up. You're just living in this moment, all sleepy and mushy and still in his arms. 

Eventually your head slips onto his lap. Your heavy eyes squished between his thigh and the hand he brings to ruffle between your hair. The circles he rubs on your head feel so soothing that it's unreal; how even sleeping they make you. You don't even believe this isn't a dream. Not like there's room in your head to doubt anything. When you look up at him his eyes are already wandering across your face, gently, as his eyebrows are raised. 

And then he kisses your forehead. Then your eyes, your lips, for as brief as a second lasts, and then your chin. Not another second passes in the time he takes to look you in the eyes once more before he's attacking your mouth again and again, this time feverishly, like he's a man starved. 

You don't even realize where your both of your shirts have gone by the time he picks you up and takes you to your bed, you only give in to the feeling of his chest exuding warmth, like a furnace and the fact that he's on you like an animal the second he places you on the bed. 

Eijiro- who wouldn't even try to kiss your neck otherwise- has launched an attack to the tender skin of your neck. And there's no stopping in the way that he's handling you; kissing, sucking, biting every single spot his mouth can reach while his fingers have wiggled their way inside your panties, pressing right onto your clit with force. 

"Eijiro s-slow dow-" You say, grabbing his hand to indicate where do you want him to slow down and even if he listens to you, your speech is cut in half by his lips on your again. 

He's onto kissing your chest so feverishly, mouth finding your nipple and sucking so hard he could leave a hickey, he's sucking every bit of skin his mouth can find, just like he did to your neck, before he's trailing even lower. The kisses he places on your belly are so soft, it's unlike any other time you've fucked, they don't make you feel insecure about your body -not like they used to- and if you could think right now you'd ponder over this go-back and whether it's actually good for you. 

Notice: It's not. But you want him so much that you cant stop yourself.

 And the way he works around you makes you melt. When hes pushing you face down that mattress or when he looks you in the eyes while rocking into you. You're not sure how you'll ever recover from this and maybe its good that you won't. Your feelings for him have resurfaced again and so they do with every feverish touch, every embrace he's taking you when you come, or the ones he takes you in when he does in turn. 

The body to body, skin to skin contact fills in that void you've been feeling. It makes you forget about all the times you've fought before you stopped talking to him, it makes you feel like you can look at him now and smile again but it hurts like you been shot through the heart. It's unreal that something that makes you feel so good makes you hurt so bad.

There's this everlasting pain in your chest that makes you unable to breathe. You're not sure you can watch him walk out of the door to your apartment and you cant put your trust in the thought that he might come back again just like he did today. So when he falls asleep with you in his arms, you hope you wont be awake when he leaves. 

Your eyes hurt as they finally close, teary as they can get, only when the first rays of sun peek through your curtains. You hope he cant feel the tears that have bled over his chest, because if he does, youre sure he’ll leave earlier than he should.

[monkey-network]

Good Stuff: The Super Mario Bros Movie

A fan shouldn't always sugarcoat it. Even if you get something you never figured you'd ever want but appreciate a lot, that doesn't mean a bias should bury any deeper feelings. What I'm getting at is Illumination's Super Mario Bros Movie can be so awesome and it was worth going to the theaters to see personally, but I can't get over the crippling flaw it has to say it was as great as I could say now. Better to be honest now than get increasingly unfulfilled later. First, though, I gotta give the props where they are due.

First, Bowser was The Best in this and I want him

For real, the animation was what I waiting for this whole time, no problems here. The film is fun. If it wasn't fun, that means Disney would've made it and it'd never come out anyways because of "creative differences". Illumination I found can make animations that are really bouncy fun, and it's best shown here. Plus the characters look incredible, DK especially, and there are moments where, in the best way, it felt like a cutscene from a video game I would want to play. Not to snipe at the Sonic movies, but this is seriously what I've wanted from video game movies since... Angry Birds 2? Like enough with the hybrid live-action crap, make a cartoon if the sourced game is about a CARTOON universe. "You mean like Ratchet & Cla-"

We do not... talk about that one.

This leads to something tricky I had in mind to discuss, and that's "faithfulness". Not long ago I watched the 1993 Mario Bros movie, a fiasco that one can argue was unfaithful to most of the source materials even with the few things they got right. Did we get something more suitable here? Well, I definitely wasn't annoyed with the fucking stupid discourse surrounding Peach's characterization and Mario's voice that's for sure. Many will cite this as having a great fuckton of references but I enjoyed the liberties they took whether or not they were references. The fact it starts out in Brooklyn made me already smile but the final act had my booty jiggle with unhinged glee. There's some corniness to it, especially with the certain musical needle drops they do, but even then it felt like they reveled in the corniness of those moments. This made me believe Nintendo and Illumination were looking to just make it excitable and enjoyable regardless of what fits where. It pains me though, knowing that there is that crippling flaw I mentioned at the beginning because while this film was fun, it went by fast. Ludicrously so... disjointedly so.

It was the Apex Cinema Speedrun, if you will

Many negative reviews claim this has a very thin plot and I honestly didn't consider that a wholly bad thing. A thin plot doesn't mean it wasn't cohesive or focused, or that there weren't any arcs to be had. The real problem comes in that certain moments don't feel earned when we barely get any time to cherish them. The pacing of this was kinda atrocious, the tight runtime truly being a detriment behind ideas for characters getting brought up well only to have shallow payoffs. Peach and Luigi especially had something about them I wanted to see more of, but before you got to see the plant blossom, they keep chugging and you're like "Ah, that's it?" They didn't need to spell everything out but let the characters breathe.

Bowser and DK felt like the exception

If this was the only movie we ever got again (knocking on wood), the fun of it all would soon subside for increased disappointment in the long run. I could say "This needs more movie" as a compliment, but that would mean I was fine with what we got. The live-action film, batshit as it was, felt consistent with everything it wanted to show and tell whether or not you saw the director's cut. That's why it became a cult hit, you remember how batshit it was. I genuinely enjoyed the film, but even with its many stand-out moments, it's gonna be hard to remember this film as much as I want to.

Except for Lumalee, I don't ever wanna forget them

I won't tout this overall as mid or "playing it safe" because they did so much right with this. When I say they stuck the landing with the Mario brothers themselves, that genuinely got to me. When we got the adventure, I relished the adventure. Like for the love of god, give me more of all this PLEASE! However, I won't give it a pass and call it perfect just because it tickled the Nintendo fan in me. Illumination's great when it comes to being in the moment, that's why I stopped hating on them, but in terms of their films having staying power this being a Mario film is carrying it hard from being a potentially forgettable one. For me, this is the movie adaptation of the Super Mario Super Show I never knew I wanted but looked forward to and felt was worth it. At the same time, my mind is fighting my heart strong knowing this Mario movie could've definitely been stronger. My final say is that it's a 6/10 movie with 10/10 moments. If you're looking for fun, this delivers no doubt, and don't let this review stop you from calling it a personal masterpiece.

What matters is that Mario finally made the Range

[kookaburra1701]

Hi KBfriend <3

Excuse me marching in here unannounced. I decided to send some asks, and well, I thought that perhaps you might also like these questions. (Feel free to answer in your own time or ignore as your spoons allow. <3)

I know we love to talk about breaking the rules in writing and obviously, that not every piece of advice is one-size-fits all, but there is a lot to say about being able to speak with each other about what we have learned during our journey. I was wondering if you wouldn't share. (I also plan on poking some of the others to see what more we can shake out. The more the merrier, no?)

What is the most useful/helpful pieces of advice you ever received during your formal education in relation to writing?

Once you started to write, what was the most important thing that you learned about writing or its process?

Has your real life/job had any influence on your writing? If so, how?

What advice would you give to aspiring writers (be it fanfiction or original)?

Hi friend! Thank you for these asks. I will never turn down an opportunity to natter on about things, my inbox is always open!

It took me awhile to think of one, because the vast majority of my formal writing education was for nonfiction and the little bit of creative writing we were assigned was generally poetry and I HATED poetry as a kid. BUT. I distinctly remember one of my middle school English teacher saying that the worst thing our writing could be wasn't being "bad" (whether technically or narratively) The worst thing our writing could be was boring. I remember her saying she'd rather read 100 bad stories that were interesting, or at least where the author's passion shone through, than one "good" story where nothing interesting happened or the author clearly was just checking boxes about what should happen in a narrative arc. She would forget a good-but-boring story immediately while every terrible-but-interesting-and-passionate story was very unique and memorable. This leads into my answer for question 2...

When I started writing fanfic on FFN waaaaay back in 2002, I realized that some people were going to hate what I wrote no matter what - after all, I hated some perfectly fine fics for reasons that had nothing to do with their quality. The people who wanted to read the things I was writing would find me, and they did! I still have friends from way back then, even though we've all moved on to other fandoms and hobbies. So yeah, that was what I learned - fuck the haters, write EXACTLY what you want, your people will find you. It was heady stuff for someone who was always That Nerdy Weird Horse Girl in school.

Oh yeah. I was a paramedic for almost a decade. I'm now a biologist in a medical pathology department. I definitely use my knowledge of A&P and quite a bit of the trauma I witnessed and ended up being subjected to as part of the USian For Profit Healthcare system. Also, it wasn't ever my actual job (unless you count the under the table farm labor I did for a goat dairy in college) but growing up in a rural farming community and around animals has given me a big interest in the history of agriculture, and I love writing about people doing subsistence farming.

My advice builds off of my answers to 1 & 2. Don't put things in your story or write stories out of a sense of duty. Don't censor yourself because you think it might be "too much" or "turn away readers." Write (and draw and create) what you want with your whole chest. I have devoured fics that were barely readable due to atrocious grammar and spelling about characters I didn't even really like with a premise I thought was stupid and pointless because the author made it interesting, and a big part of making it interesting despite the shortcomings was how much the passion they had poured into it came through, and that they were clearly having a blast the entire time they were writing/channeling their id. This is related to something that kills me when I see it on fanfiction discussion communities especially about fics with explicit sexual content - people snickering about how obvious it is that "the author had their hands down their pants while writing this." MORE HANDS-DOWN-PANTS SMUT I SAY. NO SHAME. So I guess that's my advice. NO SHAME. Want to write the filthiest, most ✨problematic✨ smut ever? NO SHAME, WRITE THAT PORN. Want to tenderly describe every step of the main villain disemboweling a unicorn? NO SHAME, SHOW ME THAT SPARKLE BLOOD. Want to write yourself as the Maryiest Sue who ever Mary Sue'd having fun in the fictional world of your choice? NO SHAME, YOU 👏GO👏GLEN👏COCO! Life is short, and late stage capitalism robs us of joy every chance it gets. Don't rob yourself of joy.

[icedmetaltea]

"how dare you indulge me talking about ocs" WELL I WANT TO KNOW I like talking about and learning about ocs NOW GIVE ME 10 FACTS ON ALLIE AND MOLLY OR I WILL do nothing

FINE you've FORCED me u meanie

(5 for molly 5 for allie)

Molly and Allie first meet on some beach Molly always walks down on her way to the college she teaches at. Everybody in the area knows to avoid it cause reasons so she's trying to explain to Allie, this apparent tourist (which they haven't had in like 50 years what the hell is going oN) that they should maybe definitely not be here while trying to not be late bc she'd already been like 5 other times that week cause she easily gets sidetracked and doesn't wanna lose her job lol

She has a huge family (also plot reasons) and since she has so many younger siblings/nephews/nieces she's much more willing to put up with Allie's constant cold shoulders

As she's trying to get to know Allie she eventually starts wearing hoodies and stuff he might wear to sorta fit in better so to speak (it doesn't work sadge)

She needs so much therapy, so much fucking therapy oh my gods

I'd never make a comic about it cause that'd be wayyy too much work and I can't draw but I like to think if I did there'd be a little counter above her, always somewhere on the page, counting down till the flood (it's its whole thing and even I don't know how it works)

Allie almost exclusively wears sneakers just cause

He has that atrocious haircut (at least at the beginning of the timeline) cause back a couple years he tried cutting his own hair since he wanted it to be short but his mom found out and um. There was a certain incident with scissors.

He was friends with a ghost as a (younger) kid, pretty sure I mentioned this cause it's plot-relevant but said ghost lived under the stairs at his apartment

He was friends with some other teens in universe A (or is it B?? I have them mixed up at this point) who essentially abandoned them the moment they disappeared. He rlly needs to get better at choosing friends 😭

He is (or was, again depending on where he is on the timeline) the son or rather "daughter" (hate misgendering him but he doesn't figure out all that till later) of a top government official who may or may not be incredibly corrupt

Bonus fact: Molly makes incredibly good homemade sea salt ice cream

[lynxindisguise]

Snippet from Ch. 2 of my Slytherin! Sirius x Bad Boy! Remus AU. Read the rest on ao3

Blacks do not care about ‘goodness.’ They care about greatness, excellence, superiority.

Sirius doesn’t find himself waiting in a hidden corner of the library out of the goodness of his heart. He doesn’t care if Lupin—who is now seven minutes late—passes his classes. He doesn’t even care about winning McGonagall’s approval. (Okay, he cares a little about that, but that’s not why doing this.)

No, Sirius is simply seeking something, anything, to relieve his excruciating boredom. Plus, Lupin is going to hate this, and he's hoping to extract a bit of joy from that.

But when the gangly delinquent finally arrives—now twelve minutes late—he looks more sheepish than anything. Sheepish and exhausted, that is, the most recent full moon having clearly taken its toll. Everything about him is rumpled, from his tawny hair to his ill-fitting uniform to his sallow skin. He reminds Sirius of a crumpled piece of parchment.

“Sorry,” he mumbles, sinking into his chair. “Fell asleep after Charms.”

Sirius is suddenly assailed by the image of Lupin passed out atop a tangle of blankets, and he imagines tucking him in and smoothing his hair and—

He clears his throat. “Shall we get on with this, then?”

Lupin nods blearily. “My worst subjects are Transfiguration and Herbology, so if we could start with those—”

“We’re actually going to start with the basics,” Sirius cuts in, tone jarringly crisp in contrast with Lupin’s soft mumble.

“Sorry?”

“Spellcasting 101. Your grip is too loose, your posture is atrocious, and your pronunciation is shit. How you’ve gotten this far is beyond me.” (There’s a compliment in there, somewhere, if you squint.)

Lupin sits up, affronted. “I—my pronunciation is fine! Just because I don’t sound like the bloody queen—”

“This isn’t going to work if you’re going to get defensive—”

“You just insulted me! That’s not how you teach.”

“What do you know about teaching?”

“I know it doesn’t involve insulting your students.”

Sirius would argue that insults have fuelled his learning since he was a child, but he’s at least partially aware how fucked up that is, so he just huffs a sigh. “Would you like my help or not?”

“Doesn’t matter anyway,” Lupin mutters, shoulders curling forward. “I can get O’s on everything, and I’ll still never be able to hold down a proper job. Not for long.”

Sirius’s lips part helplessly. It should be a relief—Lupin acknowledging what he’s been too polite to say. But hearing it aloud just makes his chest ache. “I’m sorry,” he murmurs finally. “That’s shit.”

Lupin looks up, eyes round with surprise. “I… yeah. It is. Thanks.”

“For what?”

He looks back down, picking at his nails. “Just for… No one ever… I love James and Pete, but they always try to convince me everything will be okay. They don’t get it, especially James. He thinks everyone is like him.”

“… A massive twat?”

“Open-minded,” Lupin corrects, stifling a grin. “He wasn’t trying to embarrass you in Hogsmeade, you know. He really does just have a thing about taking in strays.”

“I’m not a stray,” he snaps, the picture of poise and not at all reminiscent of a cagey rescue dog.

“Sirius—”

He flinches at the sound of his name.

Even his ‘friends,’ usually called him Black. That’s where his value lay—in his identity as the Black heir. Regulus called him Siri before he called him nothing at all. And his parents… He was always ‘son’ to Orion, and ‘darling’ to Walburga, and when they did use his name, it was a hiss, a threat, the slice of a dagger across a sheet of ice.

It’s different coming from Lupin’s lips, something foreign and soft and achingly tender.

“Didn’t think anyone would ever accept me for what I was,” he pivots, sensing Sirius’s discomfort. “Did everything I could to push them away, but then they figured it out, and…” He smiles to himself, a gentle, fleeting thing that briefly softens all his harsh angles. “And I still hate it when they fuss over me, and half the time I’m convinced they’ll eventually get sick of my shit and leave… But I don’t think I’d make it alone. And I’m an introvert.”

It should make him cringe, such cliché, sentimental drivel. It does make him cringe, to the point of creating a burning sensation in his nose and behind his eyes…

“Stop trying to distract me, Lupin,” he sniffs. “We’re still fixing your grip.”

[soulspeaksfashion]

COLLINA STRADA SS25 “Touch Grass”

view collection here.

collection description: “You know the meme, ‘touch grass?’ The world feels like a battlefield in so many ways right now and I think we can all reconnect and find that peaceful center by touching grass,” explained Creative Director Hillary Taymour – who tapped directly into the relatable and more relevant-than-ever-before meme to inform the label’s latest collection. // “The concept of ‘Mother Earth’ was a big inspiration,” continues Taymour, who envisioned a flowy, floral presentation of femininity across all aspects of the show.

from this hypebeast article

my overall rating: 7.4/10

this collection was very well thought out imo. it had a meaningful message and concept behind it, and i liked the diversity. i’d give them an A for inclusivity. it featured really gorgeous pieces that i’d love to wear/style. the layering incorporated into the pieces was really well executed, probably one of my favorite things about this collection. however, it didn’t really do anything i thought was particularly wowing.. (it takes a lot to wow me i think) the prints and textures were definitely very unique but as i mention later on, i don’t think i’m the target audience for this collection as a whole. so yeah :p

(click keep reading for all images i included!)

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

LIVE LAUGH LOVED.

this section will almost exclusively include looks that i thought were styled down.

i am obsessed with the prints of these two pieces! the tube top, underneath that cross-body thing, has like bedazzling which is soo cute. as for the other dress, i love a high neckline. i've been anti-asymmetry for a while now, but i think it's executed beautifully here. also green lady, tres adorable. how could we hate?

i love patterns! i love texture! and these looks have it all. i really like the blue dress being high-low, very cute. second photo, its the pants, these pants are calling me. i need them. they're beautiful. you could very easily style these up or down, and i love that. the shirt is fine. and again these pants!! it's something about how they flow, the pattern, the colors. its really nice. the shirt is cool. i'd probably pair it with a big floofy skirt to give it some shape on the sides? idk. cool concept tho.

the lace pants. the layering, the texture. it's deffo not something i would wear (at least i don't think) but i could appreciate someone else wearing it. i would love to see this in a different color palette. that is all. the dress is giving wedding. maybe not the bride. but this is very wedding coded to me. i love the length and the sheer material (can y'all tell idk what things are??) its so pretty. but it's also casual, love.

this ensemble?? i have no idea what it is really but i think its gorgeous. the texture and colors go together real bad. this strapless dress is sexy. the length, the print, the neckline, gagged me. model ate.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

tres cute

this section will almost exclusively feature looks that i only enjoyed elements of.

1) i enjoy the print, otherwise eh imo. 2) hear me out, wide legged pinstriped jorts, without the lace?? would've been a cool concept. not a fan of the lace. the top is fine. 3) the length of the pants? i actually like this look but there's something off about it that i can't pinpoint.. it might be the pants. there's a lot happening there.

1) the sleeves unfortunately. i've been known to love a big long sleeve, but these are not my fav. 2) the shape of the dress is very ugly, hate to use that word but its my opinion. 3) i actually like this dress, but the ruffle placements are hideous. i hate that they don't overlap in a way that hides the gaps, or connect into a full loop around the body.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

it's a naur from me...

this section will exclusively feature looks that i do not like/understand

1) the fit is absolutely atrocious. and the fabric looks wrinkly.. idk could just be me. casual grandparent slay. 2) individually i think these pieces are nice. together? naur <3. 3) this look actually just makes me upset. there's another iteration of this with a pink bag and i like that one a lot more. this look feels unfinished. it needed some accessories at the very least.

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

viewing thoughts:

(i like this name better, trying a slightly diff format as well)

this collection made me cry. not because of the pieces necessarily, but the casting choices are so human. the green lady really was the nail in the coffin. it feels real, like things a real person would choose to wear. i love loved the styling for the most part. the long hair touching the ground, i need to figure out how to make that my next hair style, immediately.  i loved the video editing, the opening with the model doing flips… it was very cute, very aesthetic.

the venue: 5/5

its green, its pretty, its unique (to me). i love seeing brands do more than just clothing, the viewing environment for the collection is very important as well.performance arttt. j’adore.

casting: 10/10 no complaints here what so ever.

now as far as the actual clothing.. it may not be my particular cup of tea (generally), though i do think the pieces are really pretty. the flounce/ruffle situations are gorgeous. i love the lace trim on some of the dresses. i do like the color palette quite a bit. the styling choices are serving a wee bit of cunt, like palatable cunt. one thing i did notice (i looked at their website as well) fitting… tailoring.. i know that not every brand is known for their tailoring but i’ve heard (don’t shoot the messenger) that at the very least, the items should fit very well. again i know this is a small brand, just something i noticed.

the twead? wool? i have no idea what these pieces are made of… but i may be a sucker. i love the texture of them. they look really soft and i like the contrasting dark colors. the pants! i love a good wide leg pant, so bad. i don’t know if i just have an unhealthy affinity towards dark clothes (i do) but the latter portion of the collection i enjoyed so much. like these black flowy dresses and the patterns. tres beau. 

♱ ───────────── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───────────── ♱

SUSTAINABILITY!!! 1.5/5

i’m fairly sure that this is the rating i gave robert wun (those reviews haven't come out). and it's only because there's not a lot of information about how they're being sustainable, where they're sourcing their materials from, or anything tbh. i don't doubt that they're being sustainable. i just wish there was more details given. i truly believe in consumers having the right to know what they’re purchasing, how it’s being made, why it's priced a certain amount, how much of that is associated with the brand name. i think consumers should be aware and given a choice in whether they participate in a companies sustainability, or lack there of. i'm all for informed decision making. i think the information should be very easily accessible, and informative. but i found on collina’s website that it doesn't really link to anything so there's no way to actually prove what they're saying, it sort of just goes into "shop this", "shop our stock", and i'm not a fan of that.

they do have a partnership with ‘the or’ foundation, which is based in accra, ghana. again, there's not really much proving that what they're saying is true. i don't doubt that what they're saying is true, there’s just no evidence.

i will continue to reference diesel when it comes to this topic because i strongly believe that the way that they go about sustainability and being open with their sustainable practices is and should be industry standard. i should know who certified you. i should know the methods that you're using to dye fabrics, how we’re handling waste management, the closed end cycle of the clothing produced. (so far, i have yet to find a brand with as much info available, so they’re my go-to as of now).

that is all friends :)

[doberbutts]

tbh I think I understand the problem here, as someone who learned how to ride a bike thru learning how to ride a horse.

The horse stands up on its own and needs very little incentive (usually) to move forward. Most horses are not stupid enough to run themselves into a solid wall (in fact, most horses feel very differently about what is and is not "safe ground to move forward on" or "enough space to fit thru" than humans, with wider berths) and most horses will continue to stand upright once stopped. These are all problems I had while learning to ride a bike, because my balance was atrocious, that I did not have on a horse, because learning to move with the horse felt much more natural to me and came much easier.

That being said, learning how to ride a horse also meant learning how to communicate with the animal, and bikes are inanimate objects so really as long as you understand how to steer, stop, and go you'll mostly be fine on a kid's bike. Some horses are trained to be perhaps too trusting of when the human says "no really I want you to move forward into the bush you already know you can't navigate through" or "yes I do in fact want you to take that jump that's too long/high for you" and will have catastrophic results. Some horses have "holy shit absolutely the fuck not" responses to the most normal shit imaginable with equally catastrophic results. Vs a bike where you really only have yourself to blame if you can't judge whether you can do something correctly and safely. Your bike is not going to see a plastic bag flutter in the breeze and decide that it no longer wants you on its back and instead bolt straight home. The horse...? Well...

So I think the issue is that many people discount their own sense of how they are communicating with the animal (even accidentally, like your horse being backed into a bush bc you won't stop yanking back on the reins) vs their own sense of how well they can balance. I was unable to ride a bike until I rode a horse. I found riding a horse significantly easier than riding a bike. I'm also someone who has always loved animals and wanted to learn as much animal handling skills as possible.

I always thought it was like an exaggeration when horse people would talk about how silly it was for anyone to think that riding a horse does not require any particular level of skill or balance or anything, or even that they "drive themselves" (???) but just the tags on the reblogs of that "can you ride a bike and/or horse" post from me alone are demonstrating how overconfident some people are in their (often entirely theoretical!) ability to stay on an alive and moving animal with a will of its own.

[onepiece-polls]

Ugly Outfits Tournament - Round 1 Side D

Propaganda under the cut.

Franky: The bowtie on his bare chest makes me cry.

Usopp:

I THINK there was a plot-relevant reason as to why he dressed like this but even if there was I don’t forgive him. I cant forgive him.

film z really decided to give usopp all the clown looks. seriously, usopp usually has pretty good fits, which makes this stand out as particularly atrocious. just look at it, it's so bad and it's so funny. the clashing neon colors, the blinding green jacket, the polka dot underwear, the fucking? mushroom?? hat?? it makes no sense and it's terrible and i honestly kinda love it.

Its so horrendous. I love that one of the first things you hear in this movie is that Brook is going to handle getting everyone's new clothes/disguises, and then you cut to Usopp wearing this. I need to know how much input Brook had in this outfit vs Usopp. They are both usually so fashionable on their own, but you see their powers combined and we get this mess.

Film Z’s outfits normally shred. Here, Usopp is sporting a highlighter green jacket and a crop top with a bow tie. Normally that’d be fine (sans jacket), but the ensemble was so pricy that Usopp couldn’t afford pants.

I don't even know what is going on here aside from Disaster Trainwreck

[callmebarf]

............and like!!!!! one would think that after such years of consuming shit poasts as oh a large swarthe of my internets inteake. and as a guye who i could describe as terminally online, u think i would know what to say?

BOSH! it's been 84 years in this hovel.

how do you not lurk when you are an foolsome dyke man (more about my dang old jander some other day im tire) who is actually quite considerate , compassionate ( a swelteringly sexy trait) and hope without being so awfully conceited to say: fun and interesting. hm how u can be insecure any way when ur a damnbed trantsjander nurd who! despine his best eforts just not be really fucking fitting into most situations! what me worry? fuck this!

so gues its fine to do it then: poasting! fuck you! im about to continue testing the aaaaahhhhhhhhh

pitch range betwain funty poasts and this is my god dam diary, except its on the internet because i am an old man of 3 ripe decades and my teenage diary was my myspace blog so all my friends could read it and say "eesh oof r u ok ? i love u"

is it OH SO TALL THE ASK to want to talk to yourself out loud digitally in a way where anonymous digital voyeurs i mean audience are free to come and go o judge as u likely like to just like me we are all such judgjejrmental dinky doos these humans we are why are we like that?

if you cant obviously tell i am three soft boiled eggs not a man

how does one hold the cognatav dassanance of the sheer wonder of aviation in its infancy when the wright brothers gave BIRDS a proverbial fucking high five, when they god damng WENT ABOVE WHERE WE ARE WHICH IS ON THE GROUND, OR ON STUFF, AND UP TO THE AIR WORLD, AVOGE FUCK!!!!!!!! ABOVE WHERE THE WORLD IS!!!!!!!!!! rest in peach to the beautiful geese who perished in miracle on hudson... not a miracle for them! /genuine

any way, ugh the fucking duality of man. the true world of possibility and human connection opened by civil aviation,

alongside the usage of aircraft in hand with the most atrocious acts humankind has carried out in war?

i am asking my proverbial crystal ball not internet avgeeks.

i dont' have to tell you SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! i don't have shit to tell you other that the above ^ and now the below it is freeing to the fuckling soul to say bullshit on the internet. i don't have the insightzs to tell you why the fuck. i just know that.

this is all because my phone fell in the dirt, just full through the crusht of the fucking earth. do you hear me? BOILING HOT MAGMA is where my phone's in now for all i think it is probably in the dang liquid core of the earth. the, yeah where the magnet juices are made. god i wish i could swim there unharmed. can you imagine it? DAMN IT! let me into the core of the earth i want to swim in MAGNET