#love to hear people talk about it tho
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thanatoseyes · 7 months ago
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Me: *strolling along the occult movements in the 1900s* la la la
The article: okay so remember THIS guy. He has ties to this other GUY. And THIS ONE. Don't even talk about him. Okay now moving on this one.
Me: I need a notebook and some aspirin.
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pickled-flowers · 11 months ago
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I'm so curious, queer people for whom English is not their first language and/or who didn't grow up in a majoritarily English speaking place, what is your relationship to the word queer?
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misfithive · 1 year ago
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Fans: omg Wille is soo oblivious and adorable he didn’t even realize the song was about him
Edvin: Wilhelm is obsessed with himself and his problems that’s why he didn’t know the song was about him
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💀💀💀
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seaweedstarshine · 5 months ago
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Late to the game as I’ve kinda been kinda non-here for a minute but I scrolled through the Dot and Bubble tag, and thought I wanted to write this post into existence.
There's this part in Doctor Who Unleashed where RTD says this:
“What we can’t tell is how many people will have worked that out before the ending. Because they’ve seen white person after white person after white person, and television these days is very diverse. I wonder, will you be ten minutes into it, will you be fifteen, will you be twenty, before you start to think, everyone in this community is white. And if you don’t think that — why didn’t you? So, that’s gonna be interesting. I hope it’s one of those pieces of television you see, and always remember.”
And I'm like. Yeah. But the reason this works even as well as it does is largely thanks to the work of the previous showrunner with the previous creative team, which was notably the first era to have any writers of color (amongst other firsts in terms of inclusivity in directors, composer, actors). While Chibnall fumbled whenever he tried to write about race himself, he did have the self-awareness to have Black and South Asian writers writing the episodes where race is the focus (and a female writer for the episode where sexism is a focus; my point is, he seemed to know his shortcomings).
I wonder what the current creative team looks like? (not really, but I wasn't 100% sure for all of them)
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To quote RTD:
“...before you start to think, everyone in this community is white.”
This is pretty non-self-aware, right? It's pretty “It is said, and I understand this, there was a history of racism with the original Toymaker, the Celestial Toymaker, who had ‘celestial,’ and I did not know this, but ‘celestial’ can mean of Chinese origin, but in a derogatory way,” right? (from The Giggle Unleashed) It's pretty “and I had problems with that, and a lot of us on the production team had problems with that: associating disability with evil,” right? (from Destination Skaro Unleashed)
—none of which are issues that should be overlooked, but think how much exponentially better they might’ve been addressed if he’d consulted with Chinese writers and wheelchair-using writers before going straight to giving the Toymaker weird fake accents and making Davros walk?
How many Black or non-white people do we think saw the Dot and Bubble script before it landed in Ncuti’s hands?
And this just keeps happening.
And like, from some of the shocked responses I've seen from white viewers to the ending of Dot and Bubble, maybe the episode's unsubtlety was needed? From the way RTD talks about it in Unleashed, the episode was written with a white audience in mind, Baby's First Microaggressions (where of course the microaggressions come from people who are pretty self-admittedly white supremacists). Ricky September, a more seemingly normal depiction of someone in the racist bubble of Finetime, seemed like an interesting element, up until the way he died.
The ending worked for me, because I do think the Doctor's reaction is true to how the Doctor would react. I just keep thinking of how much better the core themes could've been handled by someone with actual lived experience on the subject matter.
#dot and bubble#fifteenth doctor#rtd critical#anti rtd#ricky september#lindy pepper bean#dw negativity#racism#antiblackness#words by seaweed#not to be anti rtd. im just very critical. Anti RTD is just a tag which people use or block#every showrunner has their flaws but RTD is the only one self-righteously virtu signling over NOTHING. which is why im more critical.#plus the on-set sxual hrassment and what happened with Chris Eccleston etc. it vindicates me. idk. not tryna be a hater#ALSO dot and bubble is leaps and bounds better than any racism commentary I expected from Russell T Davies. so theres that.#can you tell I'm shy abt making long posts that someone is likely gonna be not happy about-#I usually search tumblr for posts to rb and talk in tags. but I couldnt find any posts about this this morning! tho I think ppl have since#etc its fine to critically appreciate imperfect media etc I do it all the time (as a Black fan) (who also thinks Rosa has Flaws) etc#I did see someone on twitter pointing out the hypocrisy of all white writers but twitter does not have space to talk about things#also love that The Church on Ruby Road has Mark Tonderai who became the first black director w The Ghost Monument. I love his directing#but that's the Christmas special. it is not part of this season. and honestly fr it's not close to enough#love the inclusivity in front of the camera. lets get some of that in the writing team NOW. it's hurting for it.#bring back Charlene James. can you hear me? was the best episode of Season 12.#the ep felt like a commentary on the “RIP Doctor Who” ppl under every official Doctor Who post? hence social media?#it does work best that way!! it just felt a little off of that way in rtd talking#idk im rambling. I did enjoy it tho. I just wish. but well.
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congratulations to Mme. Pascale Leclerc, who has surely just experienced both the funniest and most unhinged weekend a mother could ever have. Dear fucking christ, I hope your middlest son brought you a bottle of champagne for yourself, ma'am.
#kazoo noises#charles leclerc#cl16#monaco gp 2024#zoomies posting#sports posting#like man. where to begin. one of your racecar children is back in town for the weekend. he has yet to have a truly good work#weekend it seems in town. now this year. we're feeling ourselves a bit. we're feeling optimistic even. and then ur son becomes talk of town#because he keeps doing fucking bits on twitter about adopting his coworker who is friends with your youngest son. this goes on long enough#for actual reporters to comment on it. no one is willing to blink first so by friday night we've yes-anded ourselves to a grandson#(congratulations mme leclerc)#things go well. and then at qualifying they go DAMN WELL#BETTER THAN EVER REALLY! but man. im superstitious. i dont trust shit until its over and the dust has cleared#(the adoption jokes have continued by the way) and MEANWHILE everyone is eyeing that starting grid. were humming. we're making vague hand#gestures when commenting. we're all thinking. Maybe? (the streets can hear u tho. keep it down)#race starts. lap one CHAOS. so many fucking crashes. i'd faint if i had a child even in karting honestly.#(every parent in this sport deserves a prescription for laudanum)#but he's not in it. hes at the front. and he. well. he just Stays There. Through It All. and the laps tick down. until the race is run. and#there he is. your middlest son. cross the line and into the books. first place. home town. what curse indeed. thats your boy!!!!!!!! THERE!#they play the radio of him winning and the audio is peaked because he screams out so loudly. you can hear the water in the laughter.#later theres gonna be videos and photos taken of him pushing his boss into the harbor and diving right in after the man. those photos are#gonna be fucking studied in photography classes one day. and STILL! everyone involved with that goofy joke about him adopting his coworker#(who. despite all the silliness of the race stayed second place and got a podium) is still carrying the bit like a baton relay. Do you have#him over for family dinner? might as well add a plate i guess! people are joking about your youngest son having two nephews? a dog born#maybe a month ago and a man born about... what twenty three years and about a month ago? fuck it! family dinner#sorry this bit got away from me but as someone who loves my homecity and my mom so much it might actually be like.#a visible growth inside my body if they do an autopsy on me at time of death or like. my love will eat me alive. sometimes the charratives#gets to me#anyway cheers mme leclerc i hope you party so fucking hard this week
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featheredcritter · 27 days ago
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if you mention any sort of bird larger than the average blue tit you can be damn sure every person in a mile radius will tell you how terrifying and hideous that bird is
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dreadfuldevotee · 3 months ago
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Thank you for this last post. The discourse on this fandom can often be so annoying. I hate it when people are like "this is a Gothic horror, let them be toxic and problematic!!!!11!!!1" because it's not take they think it is? At the end of the day, they still want us to root for these characters and relationships, right? So how can we do that if they're stereotyped vampires, who is dark, cold, just hurt each other and don't have an ounce of growth, development, empathy and humanity? And this is such a dismissive opinion of the show and even the books, because their conflict with humanity and vampirism is a central aspect of the plot. That said, if you reduce them to the abuse alone, you're also missing the point of the story? I mean, you can totally have your opinion, you can see them as unforgivable even on this fictional universe, you can hate and root against them... But this show isn't about punitivism, it is about them navigating immortality. There are consequences for their actions, as there should be, but the goal is for them to find a way to make this work. You don't need to agree (idgaf about the British monarchy and still watched a few episodes of The Crown for the acting, for example), but if you expect otherwise, you're just playing yourself? But this fandom seems to have a problem with finding a good balance. Not to mention the hypocrisy of never forgiving certain characters and reducing them to their problematic actions, but treating their faves very different lol. And I'm like, okay, you don't need to love everyone, it's okay to have a favorite, but at least don't be contradictory? Your fave does the exact same thing or worse? Anyways. Thanks again for putting it so well. It's refreshing to see posts like that here.
Thank you! I'm glad that other people get anything out of my ranting and raving, as I am a chronic yapper and really only talk for my own health LOL.
But yeah, there is a lot of selective hearing in any fandom, really; but it pisses me off a lot here because of all the "Gothic Horror" handwaving going on. Interacting with the fandom, reading the books and seeing clips & bits of personal writings from Anne Rice, the image it paints for me is a profound unwillingness to engage with contents of the story if they're not fun and sexy. Shit, even my own odyssey into the books is spurred on in one part, to be able to form my own opinion and critique on the writing and secondly, realizing that book readers were straight up lying at times about how things went down.
And there is this persistent idea I've seen on here and twitter of "If you have issue with XYZ then this series isn't for you" and like, okay if you don't wanna see gay people who have everything-but-the-bagel of mental illnesses then, yeah, sure. But when someone goes "Hey there is like,,, a ton of casual pedophilia and CSA in these stories that is framed as cute n' casual and/or deeply romantic, I wonder what that's all about" and then people crawl out the woodwork trying to convince you its not weird or that you're weird or weak for think its kinda fucked up- then at that point, I think maybe there is actually a different issue occurring here, you know?
Anyway, I think where I'm going with this is- TVC is a cultural phenomenon and has a tangible impact on Vampire and Gothic Horror canon and that's good and fun. But if we can recognize something like H.P Lovecraft's racism/classism/general fear of change having a profound effect on his writing and the spark of the entire Cosmic Horror Genre, then I think we can interrogate how AR as a Rich White Woman who grew up in mid-21st century New Orleans has an effect on the kind of stories she writes and how she does it.
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katsettee · 6 months ago
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I totally get people talking about rottmnt and not being into because of the cartoony madness and exaggeration. I get it, it’s grating for some
But that acceptance goes OUT the window as soon as the same person vehemently swears up and down 2012 is the best tmnt rendition 💀💀
The incest one??? With the horrible writing? THAT one?
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waxflowerwoes · 1 year ago
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obviously chandrilan fashion is influenced by traditional east asian garments (the first time i was watched andor i was thinking about how much it reminded me of korean hanbok but that bias is probably indicative of how i grew up near a koreatown) and i saw someone somewhere say that it's odd that the shirts are crossed right over left (the way to dress a dead person) instead of the traditional left over right
now this could be a cultural oversight on the part of the costume designers. it wouldn't be the first time hollywood (or even star wars) appropriated an aesthetic they didn't understand. but with the line "play it how you want. but i'm going to assume i'm already dead," also existing in this show, maybe it's not.
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octarineblues · 1 year ago
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the strike's over, has anybody heard anything from michael sheen yet
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pardonmydelays · 5 months ago
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i had so much fun last night omg
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eruukat · 3 months ago
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feeling many things rn. terrified abt a lot of life changes like switching majors and needing a new job and transportation changes and even stupid little stuff like fixing my hair or avoiding the roach thats hiding out under my bed. and then below all that is this simmering pot of butterflies about my partner. i knew our prev date was going to stir up a lot of feelings but im so. !!!!!!! idk if t4t love is just that insane and intense or if im just really really clicking with him but he might have the most beautiful smile ive ever seen. hes literally radiant and i think hes the first person to ever give me butterflies and after last date somethings *changed* and theyre like. still butterflies but different somehow. i dont know what im ready for but i think about him and his smile and i can imagine myself actually truly falling in love even though its just infatuation rn. but in the past imagining that felt more distant and i guess i didnt know what it would look like for me, but now i feel like i have an inkling or a possibility. i cant wait to see him again and hold him in my arms
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dangans-ur-ronpas · 9 months ago
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Chapter 12
UH OH
SEE HERE FOR GENERAL WARNINGS AND FIC SUMMARY
Some pre-chapter notes:
trying to move away from writing toko like chunsoft and adding more to her character (she's traumatized she wants to be loved but she's going about it in the worst way) but in the end none of her actions are condoned. she's fucked up still sorry but written in a more sympathetic light i hope?
syo WILL be in this fic but i do my best to make her hand-wavy explanation ambiguous (fuck whatever canon says about 'textbook split personality' btw)
@moonlighttogami and @tokiwigiwi :)
Content warning tags: implication of stalking/blackmail, Toko-expected creepiness, use of violence, character death
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He’s not sure how much time passes when the door opens again.
“Finally,” He huffs, not bothering to turn. “Took you long enough. Honestly, how long does it take-”
He halts, as the intruder steps into the room, and quickly clicks his handbook shut. These weren’t Makoto’s footsteps. And - he surreptitiously covers his nose - that wasn’t Makoto’s smell. But he knows whose it was.
“...Toko. What do you want.” He turns and glares at the girl who has intruded on his space. She fidgets where she stands, a thin shadow of dark purple. The smell of her has grown stronger over the past few weeks, and hangs around her like a miasma.
“M-master Byakuya…”
He feels a full-bodied shiver of disgust run over his skin. “Don’t call me that.”
She ignores him, and carries on. “A-about last night…”
Right. To be completely honest, he was hoping that he had scared her enough the night before to make her leave him alone entirely. But he’s not surprised either; if she had the nerve to blatantly try and look at his secret, it wasn’t surprising that she had the boldness to try and confront him like this.
“What about last night.” He says stiffly, and she jumps as if shocked.
“I-I know about your eyes!” She blurts at last. “A-and, I know Ch-Chihiro knows it too…I, I heard you t-talking about it i-in the b-bathhouse last night…”
He feels his lip curling, revolted. Of course she had eavesdropped; she was quickly proving to be one of the more annoying stalkers he’d ever had the displeasure of dealing with. The number of people who were aware of his condition was also rapidly increasing against his will. At this point he might as well do the same as Fujisaki and announce it out loud.
Fukawa continues in her irritating stutter. “A-and…y-your envelope…” He freezes immediately, suddenly latching on to her every word.
“What did it say?” He demands, and she flinches - shivers? - arms crossing over her torso.
“I-if I t-tell you, y-you won’t w-want anything to d-do with m-me anymore…” She mutters, seemingly to herself, and he feels another wave of revulsion roll over him.
“Out with it. I already want nothing to do with you, but if you don’t speak up now-” 
What will he do? He tries to come up with a threat that can hold actual weight, but they all sound pathetic, even to himself. If only Makoto were here, he could at least get him to chase her away…how long does it take to talk to three people, anyways?
Ironically, it’s Fukawa who saves him from having to think of something. “I-I know you’re r-really mad at m-me for r-reading your secret last night,” She continues, and she’s swaying slightly, as if drunk. “U-um, I-I promise n-not to t-tell anyone! About your eyes, o-or your envelope…a-and, I’ll t-tell you mine, t-too.”
“I’m not interested.” He says flatly. “Tell me what was written in my envelope. Now.”
She shakes her head instead. “I-I know th-there’s no way for you t-to have r-read yours yet, right? S-so only I know!” The light catches on her spectacles, and it gives the illusion of two, illuminated orbs on her face. “W-which makes me m-more special than M-Makoto, or Chihiro, right?”
She sounds deranged. Her voice is pitched with desperation, and she’s breathing heavily. She takes a step closer. “I-I know all your s-secrets, and once y-you know mine…s-so you can r-rely on me, m-more than Makoto, o-or Chihiro?” Another step, and the floorboard creaks. “I-I’ll do better than th-them! And, and I can accept you f-for all your secrets, s-so, you don’t n-need them, I promise!”
“Stay back.” He snaps, shifting backwards. The revulsion was curdling, mixing with fear, and crawling down his back like something physical, like the vile, unwanted sensation of fingernails, tickling over his skin. He hates this irrational panic - she was just a girl, and a pathetic one at that - but here he was, shying away anyways, unable to discern her next move, her intentions. “I’m warning you-”
She lurches forward, and he takes an inadvertent step back. His back meets the bookshelf; he was trapped. “S-so don’t get scared,” She says, though these words really only have the opposite effect on him. “D-do you remember the news, a few y-years back? A-about Genocider S-Syo?”
Genocider Syo? The name sounds familiar, but it takes him a moment to place where he’s heard it before. It was a few years before he enrolled at Hope’s Peak, while in transit to some social gathering or another; Pennyworth had left the car radio tuned to the local news. 
“The serial killer?” He asks aloud, as he subtly searches the shelves behind him, trying to find something to use as a weapon. The tip of his index finger catches on the spine of a large, plastic-bound copy of some textbook or another, and he leverages it slowly out of the shelf, feeling sweat beginning to slicken its cover.
She nods eagerly, her braids bouncing. “I-I knew you’d kn-know about it,” She sounds relieved, somehow, voice breathless. “Y-you know, th-the first place Syo turned up was the town w-where I was b-born…i-it was my f-first crush that was the f-first victim, y’know?”
It clicks together quickly for him. The radio announcer had described bloody and ugly scenes of murder, the displayed corpses of young men and boys, all attributed to a mysterious killer with a penchant for stabbing their victims. And now standing before him was a clearly-deranged, unwell girl, well-known for her romance novels, and apparently obsessed with him.
“I-it’s okay!” She says hurriedly, as he presses himself closer to the shelf. “Sh-she only c-comes out when I-I’m really t-tired, o-or if I see b-blood…b-but, I c-can control her! I am controlling her, I promise!” She steps forward again, and this close, he can see the sickly flush on her face, the shine of sweat - tears? - down her cheeks. “I’ve b-been working s-so hard, s-so she won’t h-hurt anyone again…so it’s o-okay! I c-can be good! See?” She hiccups slightly, she must be crying. He can’t imagine why. “S-so now we can be equal, r-right?!”
She staggers towards him again, and he reacts before he can even think twice about it, yanking the book from its shelf and swinging blindly. The edge catches her across the face, whipping it sharply to the side with a sickly crack and a squeal - there’s a crest of blood, splattering up the length of the book, he can feel a few warm drops splash his hand, the skin crawling where it landed - and she crashes against the shelves with a shriek, stumbling.
“Why?!” She wails, hands shooting to her face. She sounds genuinely distraught, and she shakes as she scrubs at her nose with her palms. “I-I told you m-my biggest secret, a-and I kn-know yours…w-why won’t you tr-trust me?!”
“Trust you?!” He laughs, mirthless and a little frenzied, pitched wildly with his thudding heart. “You repulse me.” He steps forward now, book still clutched in his shaking hand. “Why would I ever trust a murderer in a killing game?”
She flinches as if his words were more physical blows, stumbling away from him and knocking against the shelf. A few books rain down, thudding open on the floor. “I-It’s not me,” She babbles, clutching at her head. “S-Syo - she’s j-just s-someone else, she’s in m-me, b-but I can c-control her, I p-promise - sh-she’s not me, she’s not me, she’s not!”
It sounds vaguely like some dramatized description of a split personality, though Byakuya had never heard of any such disorder that matched Fukawa’s apparently extreme case. Whatever the girl had going on would probably warrant its own DSM volume, but he wasn’t particularly interested in that. “I don’t care if she’s a ghost that’s possessing you or a secret twin taking your place. I want nothing to do with either of you.”
“B-but-”
“Get out.” He snarls, chest heaving. “If I hear anything - anything - on my condition, I will make you wish you were dead.” She doesn’t move, and he feels his teeth clench enough to creak. “I said, OUT.”
She darts, stumbling and stepping through one of the piles of boxes on the floor, completely breaking through the lid. Whatever was inside it stays looped around her ankle as she kicks the lid off, and clicks against the floor as she sprints away, her sobs fading as she goes.
___
For safety, he blocks off the door to the library with the chair, jamming it beneath the handles.
Then, he waits for Makoto, pacing, agitated. Really, how long could it take to accompany one person to talk to three people? His clock in his handbook stated that hardly an hour had passed since Makoto first left, and ten minutes since he sent Fukawa away. Surely, he had to be coming back eventually?
Not that there was anything keeping Byakuya in the library, other than his own uncertainty regarding his safety. Considering that he knew Fukawa’s alternate identity, and her apparent infatuation with him, it would be foolish to make the trek back to his room alone.
He stops pacing, frustration and restlessness boiling over. And returns to the files, shuffling through them, handbook held aloft to read the names printed on the edge of each folder, ignoring the ones that clatter to the ground after he shoves them haphazardly back. Finally, he comes across the one he's looking for, and slides it out of the shelf.
The front of it is stamped with the title in silver: ‘The Murder Cases of Genocider Syo: Top Secret’. He flips it open.
The text is interspersed with images of the victims before and after their unfortunate encounters with Fukawa. He can’t make much out about them, other than the fact that all the murder scenes seemed similar enough; photos of pale bodies, stretched out as if crucified, splattered with blood. Their faces, which must have been twisted with agony, are merely dark smudges.
“...As with the other cases, at the scene of the crime the word ‘BLOODLUST’ was written with the victim’s blood,” Alter Ego reads aloud. “The scissors used in the murder were apparently custom-made, with every pair left at each murder scene seeming to be of the same material and construction…”
How vile. He flips through the pages (one of which is annoyingly wrinkled, and furthermore, smudged with dirt), reading through the victim's descriptions. There was a sort of morbid curiosity that drew him to read further, even as his stomach turned with the knowledge that he could end up like one of these men; pinned like a butterfly for the killer to admire and laud over.
He snaps the file shut at last, feeling nauseous, and sinks down with his back against the shelf, suddenly exhausted - the adrenaline from Fukawa’s confrontation is gone, leaving behind a bone-deep fatigue. Sluggishly, he categorizes what he knows:
One: Fukawa was also Genocider Syo, a notorious serial killer who targeted young men.
Two: Fukawa both knew he was blind, and the contents of his envelope. He reaches into his pocket and feels for it, the paper now crinkled and warped. He still can’t bring himself to try and use Alter Ego to read its contents, but so long as Fukawa knew…there was little he could do about it.
That brought him to three: Fukawa was apparently obsessed with him. That was clear from the start, but he underestimated how dangerous her infatuation was. What she wanted from him was, apparently, some kind of romanticized relationship, if her mutterings about mutually sharing secrets and calling him ‘master’ was anything to go by, but nothing that could possibly be built on equal footing. Not if she was trying to leverage the envelope’s contents and his blindness against him.
He pauses at that. Did Fukawa know he was capable of using Alter Ego through his handbook to read? If she did, then there was no point in her trying to hold it over him. But then that meant she might try to manipulate him in other ways, the most simplest being blackmail. For that, he’d need to silence her…
And to do that, I would need to kill.
He drums his fingers against the hardwood floor. It’d be hard, but he could do it. She was already fixated on him, it should be easy enough to lure her somewhere and take care of her, either with a blunt-force weapon or strangulation - stabbing was too messy with the blood splatter - but the real difficulty then was how to conceal his tracks. 
He thinks for a moment of Maizono, and how she had swapped rooms with Makoto solely for this intention. He thought her foolish then, but in hindsight, it really was an impressive display of quick thinking…though, it wasn’t one that he could copy.
What if he did it in a shared space? In one of the empty classrooms? People hardly went into these rooms, and it’d be harder to pin down the culprit. But he’d have to be fast about it, and careful; anyone who sees him or Fukawa entering that space, or leaving it, could easily identify him as the suspect. It’d have to happen at night.
But, she’s also smarter than she looks… He rubs at his temples now, frowning. She might see the similarities between this and Maizono’s attempt, and realize it’s a trap. I can’t risk that. It’d be easier if I could easily pin it on someone, but the amount of people who might be stupid or willing enough to let themselves be used…
The list was very short. Makoto, who was already a non-option. Yamada, who was too closely allied with Celeste to be trusted. Hagakure, who was too paranoid to be easily led into anything anyways...
And Chihiro.
He’s suddenly struck with the realization that if he succeeds, the others die. It would not be just one person’s blood on his hands, it would be multiple, including those he chooses not to directly involve. He hesitates, for an instant - and then lowers his hands slowly, a sense of defeat settling over him.
He’s already failed before he even started. This game could only have one winner, and if he could not fully commit himself to that role and accept the consequences of it, then he was never a real competitor to begin with. Circles within circles. He was back to the start.
Frustration isn’t something he’s unfamiliar with, but it’s been a long time since he’s felt so overwhelmed with it, as he tilts his head back, knocking it against the shelf as he stares blankly at the brown fog of the ceiling. And then slams a fist against the floor, hissing venomous, ugly curses under his breath. If only he had his eyes, again - he wouldn’t need to be so concerned with such things, wouldn’t need to waver - and yet.
Where the hell is Makoto? He thinks numbly, exhausted with it all. He was sick of being left with nothing but his nerves, and how long did it take to talk to just three people anyways?
Thump, thump, thump.
A rhythmic banging snaps him out of his thoughts. For a moment, he thinks it’s coming from the door, and clumsily pushes himself up, while fumbling for something, anything, to use as a weapon - his hands find the hard, stiff cover of a case file, still on the floor - and stares down the door, waiting for someone to break through it-
But nothing. The chair that’s stuck under the doorknob hasn’t even budged, from what he can tell. The banging continues, and he realizes it sounds more like hammering than knocking. It wasn’t even against the library door.
Construction? Hagakure did mention hearing construction sounds earlier. Was Monokuma building something again?
The sound ends, replaced by footsteps approaching his door. He tenses, taking a step back, but a moment later, the footsteps patter down the hall and away, fading out of earshot. 
He stays where he is for a long moment, caught between terror and curiosity. Curiosity wins out, and he steps slowly to the door, hesitating once more with one hand on the chair.
But before he can even do anything, the air is pierced by a blood-curdling scream, and he throws the chair away, yanking the door open-
Only to be met with the sight of Chihiro Fujisaki’s corpse.
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candlebel · 8 months ago
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I cared. I still do. I still think of you and I still cry over you. You were importat to me. You still are.
#I was interested. I wanted to get to know you.#I did not want validation. I only said it because you said it... I don't know why. I was susceptible.#I was blindly accepting certain things that you said about me. Judgement that you had for me.#I was under severe stress from my job at the time; while at the same time dealing with unresolved emotional trauma and very low self worth.#vent#I was burnt out. Crushed... Completely.#I didn't want attention. I did not want you to cure my depression. I though I was just letting you know me. I wasn't aware I was oversharin#I tried... SO HARD to get over the things that triggered me and hurt me but I just couldn't...#I wanted to. I did everything in my might; I took it to therapy; I looked everywhere within me; to either get over it#or completely forget about you and stop caring at all; so things were ok and normal again; but it didn't go away...#I just feel so... unsafe... at the idea of talking again#I know I wasn't the best listener and I profoundly regret that.#I was not only thinking about myself like you said and I was aware of the effort that other's put; but I was afraid/resistant to PRECISELY#that cause of past events with other people. Because in some I was the one putting that effort and ended badly for me. Looking back#that was inappropiate of you because you felt too comfortable generalizing my past relationships and why in your head they failed.#“I cant help but feel you are looking down on people who” Stay away from me if you ever make a stretch like this again.#By “experiment” I meant that you don't know how a relatioship with somebody is gonna turn out until you go and try. That's all I meant.#I didn't want things to turn out this way. I'm sorry they did.#The effort I put for you may have been shit to you. But to me it was a lot. And I'm done taking judgement.#Altho I love my friends I still keep distance. I still can't completely help that. I can go months not talking to my BF.#You were my BF during my teenage years. I remembered you fondly. I still do.#I don't feel ready to talk again having to keep to myself interest that I might have. Related to trauma. I do not feel comfortable with tha#No I do not look at your blogs.#The day I said I was abused I had a panic attack right after that. That's mainly why I had to cut contact: I didn't want another one.#I didn't tell you because I didn't trust you to not say “talk to the void” again. I didn't trust you to want to hear about it. I didnt feel#safe with you anymore. Event tho we ressumed contact I felt that way the entire time.#I wanted to answer all the questions you had; I really did; until I couldn't stand it anymore.#And the day I removed you from discord... I know you probably had an awful day that day... I'm so; so sorry...#I'd like to one day be completely unbothered by assumptions and stuff cuz I know it's not your fault... You went through stuff too...#stuff
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floral-hex · 3 months ago
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fuck, I hate telehealth, but ya know, I think I’d actually like it if it was in minecraft instead of a video call. Let’s do therapy in roblox or something.
#having a relationship with your therapist is unethical… but what about running a dungeon together in world of warcraft??#today we’re going to talk about my abandonment issues while we build a mountain base in minecraft together#shit… I was just joking but this is actually sounding kinda rad#but wowwee do I hate telehealth#I hate professional video calls#I always feel like I’m saying the wrong things or I’m not talking enough#my last psych appointment was telehealth and it suuuuuuucked#oh man I don’t even know if I ever posted about this#it just felt so awkward and I was always worried someone could hear me on the call through the apartment walls#and he was like basically ‘just try to think positive’#fuck you fuck you fuck you and also think about my butthole and fuck you#thanks for the meds but never say that shit to me again#like… my therapist is a cool guy. I ‘love him. or as much as you can love your doctor in a distant platonic way#he’s always so cool about ‘yeah your chemicals are all messed up’ and he’s doesn’t shut me down at least not without actually understanding#but my psych who works in the same office does telehealth and seems very distant and not great at talking about deeper issues#which is fine. really. I just needed a doc who’d give me a fair shake and help me with the medication side#but I have to do telehealth for him and it feels so awkward and shallow#can’t we just do a 5 minute phone call? ‘hello. can we up the dose of my meds? yes? okay thank you.’#I see you typing on your computer a lot. I’m not saying anything interesting. if you’re on neopets just say so#anyway I only thought about this bc I guess I COULD do telehealth therapy today or something#but like I said. telehealth feels awkward and I wouldn’t be able to open up over it#it’s cool tho for like… I dunno. people who can’t go in person or need quick visits or whatever#I’m not saying it’s not useful or a viable option. I personally just hate phone calls and video calls.#and I love video games bro 😎#and I love you#goodbye forever#text
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plushie-lovey · 1 year ago
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Does anybody else come up with families for plushies in their collections or am I just weird (if you do I'd love to hear about them, and maybe see pictures please? 🥺)
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