#my depression phase getting a bit too common at this time

[miraclecherryblossomsblog]

8 pm's starting to become a shitty hour to me for no reason actually...

[heelsofboreas]

Has anyone asked you about ur disability headcanons yet? If not then I request to hear them :3

This ask actually made me go insane for a moment. Thanks for asking. I have a number of random little disability headcanons for dsmp characters, mostly because I'm an ambulatory wheelchair user and I will write my own representation but additionally because this series has so many good reasons for people to become disabled. and everyone was neurodivergent already.

I'm just going by people I have kind of on my brief summary of headcanons list so far. But see below the cut

Dream - (He/Him)

So actually primarily Dream just starts as AuDHD. Just the way he thinks and communicates. Like he's neurodivergent. That's just fact and I do love giving the character the content creator's disabilities

This fucker STIMS okay. He can't stand still and he must stim. he can and will pace circles into everything. Huge motion related sensory seeker and it's his biggest regulator. Everyone has learned the hard way to not stop him

He slowly develops paranoia and depression but that evolves into a full blown case of PTSD post-prison

Also has a traumatically restrictive diet afterwards. It takes him a long time to get eating normally again, and there's still a lot of things that will just take the ability to eat away from him entirely

Starvation and isolation can severely mess with your brain and I honestly think it could trigger a latent physical health issue as well. So not only is Dream struggling to cope with recovery from the hell he threw himself in, he's also contending with new chronic issues

I'm always super compelled for it to be a joint issue for some reason. probably because I see him as extremely flexible. So potentially dealing with severe joint inflammation of some kind.

He would be a very reluctant user of mobility aids. This man does not want to sit in the wheelchair, but he'll learn eventually. You can put fun patterns on your tire covers, Dream. Come on it's fun.

Punz - (Any)

I think somewhere along the way Dream could have been diagnosed with his earlier problems. I think Punz has been stubbornly avoiding the doctor as long as they've been alive. And they will continue to do

So there are some SIGNIFICANT problems they just aren't acknowledging. Likely ADHD or AuDHD. It's okay, they have systems for coping with things

Definitely Schizophrenia and Depersonalization Derealization disorder. This can either just be a thing or backstory relevant but between the two they give Punz a really just interesting grasp of reality and a complete lack of connection to their body.

In Like Real People Do Punz has a version of Congenital Insensitivity to Pain and as a result had an accidental hemiglossectomy (they bit off their tongue) that gives them a speech impediment. Tongue trauma is really common in conditions like that

I just think Punz needs to wear wrist braces. I think they've fucked up their wrists a bit and could benefit from a brace that actually provides some support. Like the tingling and tension in their wrists isn't normal but they're not going to acknowledge it.

Purpled - (He/They/It)

I just remember the post i saw one time of cc!Purpled discussing his adhd diangosis as not hindering him in school because he was hyperfixated on being the best. I have never been able to track down a clip to confirm this but it's real in my heart at least and also how c!Purpled is

I definitely think he was like sick as a baby. Got a nasty infection that he couldn't just fight off being too young and also did not receive sufficient care for. This is why you don't leave a 7/8 year old in charge of a baby

He's mostly fine now, but when he's sick he's really really fucking sick. So just don't get sick, as if that's easy at all

Biggest issue they have overall in my mind is insomnia. I think it's reoccurrent and very much connected to stress levels. He just goes through phases where his sleep schedule gets decimated and he sleeps for like 2 hours a night at most and it just makes everything bad

Tommy - (She/They)

So the content creator decidedly does not have ADHD. I keep constantly flipping back and forth on whether I want to write c!Tommy with ADHD but regardless of any actual diagnosis I think she hits a ceiling somewhere of what she can handle and it becomes pretty clear something is giving her issues

That could just be the PTSD she does develop. I think she's stuck playing "was this a thing for me before I got this disorder and needs looked into alone or is this just part of this disorder" for the rest of her life.

I do think her PTSD developed not just from like one thing like exile or whatever but from repeatedly dealing with things that hurt her and made her feel unsafe. PTSD doesn't always have just one inciting incident. She might have something closer to C-PTSD

I think they've got like a LisFranc foot amputation from walking into the tundra woefully unprepared from walking into the tundra and getting a shoe wet. She got frostbite on a lot of places but since one of her feet got wet, that one did not recover properly

I don't think she gets a prosthetic for a while. I think she's stuffing her shoe and coping until she's allowed back in l'manburg. then she can finally pay a visit to whoever passes for a prosthetician or at least knows SOMETHING about orthopedics

Technoblade - (He/It)

Number 1 fucked up knee haver. number 2 resistant to using mobility aids because unlike Phil he's not old

But prison still takes a lot out of him so he's at MINIMUM temporarily incapacitated while recovering from all of that. he's not listening to doctors orders (Phil and Niki repeatedly telling him to lay down)

Generally actually gets sicker than most people. he's not from the overworld. his immune system doesn't DO pollen what do you MEAN the plants want to kill him. Shitty immune system is what eventually does kill him tbh

He's had a pretty steady build in ptsd symptoms as time goes on but it only really flares his head when he's stuck in a situation he has to wait out.

Worst of his disorders is really OCD. like he just has it and the voices just make it worse. they're basically agents of "if you don't do X, Y bad thing will happen". Except when that old man is around then they're poggin

On the same audhd wavelength with Dream, and also Philza at the same time. He does not want to do what you tell him. he also cannot do something you want without specific clear instructions. he will do it his own way anyways.

i don't think he has Schizophrenia. he might have some kind of psychosis but I'm personally just hesitant to give him Schizophrenia because it feels like reducing it to just hearing voices which is definitely a symptom but he doesn't really have negative symptoms to me. I could write an essay on this

Philza - (He/Him)

Old man has so much wrong with him. Doctors can't fix this. He's just like this now. His big god wife loves how messed up of a little man he is

He has no concept of how time actually moves, his perception of time has just been stretched out wildly and he is fully capable of dissociating through a whole year

His autism manifests most apparently as a kind of rigidity. Especially socially. It can be really hard for him to accept change. he's trying but like, that doesn't mean it's not still hard to work with or around it

Sometimes my system makes the colorzas a loose kind of OSDD-1a system. They're all Phil just different flavors. I haven't ever written this before but it's kinda fun. I get it

Losing his wings severely messed up his balance so he was using a cane for a while until he sorted that out. He doesn't have enough residual limb for a prosthetic, but he's learning to be okay with the loss

Phantom pain is a bitch though and he and Tommy are both learning to cope with it around the same time. They have wildly different ways they cope with it though

Probably will come back to this later and add Niki, Eret, Wilbur, Sapnap, George, Karl, and Q. Actually someone sent me another ask as I was working on this one on the bus asking for more so they'll get them and maybe an infodump.

[elisefolklore]

Taylor Swift's playlists about the five stages of grief in a breakup

I made the playlists on Spotify if anyone is interested! EDIT22/04 the songs from TTPD are added in these playlists!

DENIAL. I Love You, It's Ruining My Life Songs: “This is a list of songs about getting so caught up in the idea of something that you have a hard time seeing the red flags possibly resulting in moments of denial and maybe a little bit of delusion.”

ANGER. You Don't Get to Tell Me About Sad Songs: “These songs all have one thing in common: I wrote them while feeling anger. Over the years I've learned that anger can manifest itself in a lot of different ways, but the healthiest way it can manifest itself in my life is when I can write a song about it.”

BARGAINING. Am I Allowed to Cry? Songs: “This playlist takes you through songs I've written when I was in the bargaining stage, times when you're trying to make deals with yourself or someone you care about, you're trying to make things better. You're often times feeling really desperate because oftentimes we have a gut intuition that tells us things are not going the way that we hope. Which makes us more desperate. Which makes us bargain more!"

DEPRESSION. Old Habits Die Screaming Songs: “We're going to be exploring the feelings of depression that often lace their way through my songs. In times like these, I'll write a song because I feel lonely or hopeless. And writing a song feels like the only way to process that intensity of an emotion. And while these things are really, really hard to go through, I often feel like when I'm either listening to songs or writing songs that deal with this intensity of loss and hopelessness — usually that's in the phase where I'm close to getting passed that feeling.”

ACCEPTANCE. I Can Do It With a Broken Heart Songs: “We finally find acceptance and can start moving forward from loss or heartbreak. These songs represent making room for more good in your life, making that choice. Because a lot of the time when we lose things, we gain things too.”

[system-of-a-feather]

Honestly, the thing about DID that I've come to find as a part that did an absurd amount of work during the "survival era" - literally playing caretaker, soother, primary protector, makeshift-gatekeeper, relationship mediator, and academic protector when our polyfragmented system was more or less shut down to a system of 2 with wild intrusions - and having carried us to keep a good grade during all the crisises that happened in our undergrad as we started DID-centered therapy - is that the difficulty of life with DID is honestly just very very front loaded but in turn relatively "easy" if / when you manage to survive that front loaded opening.

This isn't to say "DID makes your life easier when you get past the sheer survival phase and get to a place of stability" but more so that the sheer amount of skill and difficulty you've had to survive and grow accustomed to in order to GET to stability makes almost everything look like a bit of a joke.

It is very hard to get through that period, it is extremely painful and honestly, the unfortunate thing is that it is fatal to some - but by the time you come out on the other end.... it's almost honestly boring before it becomes peaceful with just how pathetically simple "huge stressors" are in comparison.

I've carried 500 roles all on once while trying to keep intruding parts' messes limited back when we really had to go into our denial phase of DID in late high school. I kept our grades up during active multi-level abuse and codependent friendships and so many massive crisises. I got us academically through our bachelors degree and the first 5+ years of therapy AND Covid. I've gotten up the next morning after a flight and two or three breakdowns and took an organic chemistry final and did plenty of well.

Am I genuinely supposed to be worried about a simple GRE test with only a few days notice? Of course that should be stressful, of course that should bother me, most people it should - but honestly? Compared to the absurd feats I've done in the name of survival both for myself and the system, and the absurd feats I've done in the name of flourishing - its honestly a cake walk.

At this point, as a part, very little compares to the hardest periods of our life and honestly, it both kind of leaves me under fulfilled as a part that really likes projects and working on things. It's a large reason why I've taken a lot more fun and fulfillment in watching the "kids" grow and learn things on their own and serving as an advisor / mentor when they really find themselves stuck.

My confidence and security in handling these sorts of things used to actually depress me as we got into a better life, but honestly, it's a lot more fun sitting back and being the parent to the hosts and "new generation" of parts because its both more interesting and it's honestly just really fulfilling to be able to be that safe and secure base for ourselves that we never had. And I am not meaning in the sense of a protector and caregiver - that is too over bearing and obligatory. I more so just mean like a genuine parent to fledgling birds.

The diligence and long run game of watching them flail around a bit sillily as they figure out how to fly on their own. Keeping them safe but not so much that they never learn to fend for their own. I don't know, call me old, I'm retired in this brain for the most part, but its something I really enjoy honestly.

Any how, I apologize some for the amount of times I say "honestly" and the overall formal speech, I used to joke about it being my "speech impediment" because I can't help it - but Riku and co recently found out that is ACTUALLY a speech impediment common with autism called "stilted speech" so I guess.... it unironically is my speech impediment. (/half serious /lh)

[imraespace]

‼️ before reading this i just wanna let you know i yapped so hard during this and i never realized how long this was until i started rereading im so sorry. i hope everything i said makes sense </3 ‼️

ohymogsh thank you for suggesting sae w mala by 6ix9ine bc you just gave me the most brilliant idea ever omg

ALSO OMG U ALSO EDIT/EDITED OMG YAYAYAY i wanna learn how to do like yk those complex transitions w them cubes and all that bc they look so cool but im so scared ill mess them up and its gonna look so bummy 💔

I ANIMATE/TWEEN AS WELL but i use the term animate more bc the term tweening reminds me of gacha life tweening tutorial and my gacha phase was something thats for sure..!

im lowkey considering to like stop editing and start writing stories or create smaus because it takes so long to animate and i cant really do anything else except a simple zoom in/out ☹️

ive been trying to tween this one kaiser fanart and i never realized how bad kaisers hair was until i was erasing each layer of hair for 12 hours AND IM STILL SOMEHOW NOT DONE?? I STARTED THIS ABOUT A MONTH AGO TOO. i have beef w ness now cuz he couldve just gave this guy a bob cut and my life would have been so much easier >:(

i apologize that i never stop talking bc once i start talking about something im interested in i just somehow never stop BUT IM GLAD WE HAVE SOMETHING IN COMMON OTHER THAN OUR LOVE OF BLUELOCK !!

- 🐙

LMAO ITS OKAY once i start yapping i cant stop as well

ALSO YIPPEE IM GLAD YOU LIKED IT!!

ABT THE COMPLEX TRANSITIONS I REALLY WANNA LEARN THOSE AS WELL i went looking at my old edits and realized i didnt even have a certain style it was all over the place LMAO i mostly edit during my genshin phase and i swear one day it was a cute yoimiya edit then next it was a depressing albedo edit that looks wayy different..

i say you should do what you want to rn like i had fun editing for while until i got bored then randomly i made a book on wattpad and it was fun to do so now im here writing for fun! ive gotten the feeling to edit a few times before but i realized how TIME CONSUMING IT IS LIKE WITH WHAT YOU SAID WITH KAISER IT TOOK ME A WHOLE MONTH TO MAKE A WHOLE EDIT WITH JUST TWEENING.

and DONT GET ME STARTED ON WHEN YOU FINISHED CROPPING THE INDIVIDUAL PARTS AND PLACE IT IN THE EDITING APP you realized you missed something out or theres a noticeable spot you forgot to hide(esp for the hair) it makes me wanna just delete everything

i think ness was feeling a bit goofy when he did kaiser haircut bc his rat tails in the back of his head is kinda funny.. i wouldve just made kaiser bald and do the edit just like that for funsies

ALSO SAMEE i cant stop talking if its something im interested in AND YIPEPE WE GOT TWO(hehehe three if you count our non stop blabbering) IN COMMON

whatever you choose to do with the editing or writing just have fun with it and you can always go back to the other one if you want!

WAIT I FORGOT TO SAY THIS HELP I HAD A GACHA PHASE AS WELL I HAD A YT CHANNEL AND SADLY I DELETED EVERYTHING BC I WANTED TO WATCH MY CRINGE VIDEOS BUT ITS ALL GONE. but ya!

[swiftiesneversaydie]

Special thanks to the owner of these Spotify playlists! She doesn’t have a tumblr but she’s the real MVP!

DENIAL: I Love You It’s Ruining My Life

Taylor Swift on "I Love You, It's Ruining My Life" type of songs:

"This is a list of songs about getting so caught up in the idea of something that you have a hard time seeing the red flags possibly resulting in moments of denial and maybe a little bit of delusion"

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/1KqmY1Hv5leQETf8BKNwtz?si=zA3xej2_Suu46b8PMjlVfA&pi=a-CLFbkDtfRBuL

ANGER: You Don’t Get To Tell Me About Sad

Taylor Swift for ‘You Don't Get to Tell Me About Sad’ playlist:

“These songs all have one thing in common. I wrote them while feeling anger. Over the years, I've learned that anger can manifest itself in a lot of different ways but the healthiest way that it manifests itself in my life is when I can write a song about it and then oftentimes that helps me get past it”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/63nKIceSXlVf03f0jR6Isd?si=zqTUN1e8T0-maECQUawt1Q&pi=a-sXsoWCCIS0O_

BARGAINING: Am I Allowed to Cry?

Taylor Swift for ‘Am I Allowed to Cry’ playlist

“This playlist takes you through the songs that I've written when I was in the bargaining stage. Times when, you know, you're trying to make deals with yourself or someone that you care about. You're trying to make things better. You're often times feeling really desperate because often times, we have a sort of gut intuition that tells us things are not gonna to go the way that we hope which makes us more desperate, which makes us bargain more.”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/74khdfTwZ1dZpMtvI944Rj?si=vWdrzaxRQ7W2vDLR7zpE9Q&pi=a-m1qHAo5_QRmz

DEPRESSION: Old Habits Die Screaming

Taylor Swift for “Old Habits Die Screaming” playlist on Apple Music:

“Where we're going to be exploring the feelings of depression. That often lace their way through my songs. In times like these, I'll write a song because I feel lonely or hopeless. And writing a song feels like the only way to process that intensity of an emotion. And while these things are really, really hard to go through. I often feel like when I'm either listening to songs. Or writing songs that deal with this intensity of loss and hopelessness. Usually that's in the phase where I'm close to getting passed that feeling.”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/2K2aKPrNmGxJ5u2x7Ie5fv?si=uwELxqE1SpOWCw7DwIDIlA&pi=a-9-yozIiTSYiB

ACCEPTANCE: I Can Do It With A Broken Heart

Taylor Swift for ‘I Can Do It With A Broken Heart" playlist’

“Where we finally find acceptance and can start moving forward from loss or heartbreak. These songs represent making room for more good in your life making that choice because a lot of time when we lose things we gain things too”

https://open.spotify.com/playlist/4S4UiYbLiNDW76MWBjY7of?si=HSuu-tIGQ8yDljXACpu1Hg&pi=a-tYeYsfvXQqKz

[designernishiki]

I saw your post where you said something like «Kiryu and Mayumi slept in the same bed for six months» and... I kina doubt it. This bed is too small for two people, it hardly accommodates Kiryu, given his size. So she was probably either sleeping on the floor or sleeping somewhere else.

For some reason I always thought that she didn't live with him at all, just came there from time to time. If you look at the apartment where Kiryu lives, you can see that there are only his things there and no other things. And I don't remember exactly, but Mayumi's profile at the beginning of the game says something like «she's disappointed that their relationship won't get off the ground» or something like that. So, yes, the poor girl was desperate for him while he was in his le gay depression phase.

okay so I was waiting to answer this until I started legit playing 5 so I could have a bit more context and whatnot and now I have done that and hdhxjcjdjv boy do I have a lot of thoughts. warning: this is kinda long.

so I can clarify now that– yeah– they weren’t actually living together technically, she would just come over a lot and spend the night there regardless of his opinion on it (which typically was “you should go home” or “you should stay at your own place for once” no im not just being mean, those are both almost word-for-word). she does have slippers there by the door that denote she’s there often, but his apartment’s pretty barren overall, which to me says less about her being around or not, and more about him probably only going home when he needs to sleep or runs out of things to do, not hanging around there much otherwise– he’s got no books, no radio, nothing. just an ashtray on the table. It’s safe to say it’s not a place he enjoys being in.

And yeah, it’s bizarre how many people say “kiryu had a girlfriend for six months” despite her profile and kiryu himself in dialogue stating… kind of the opposite? ie; that they were not a couple, kiryu was disinterested in her, and their lack of a relationship/kiryu’s lack of interest was frustrating to her. She was never his girlfriend despite her giving her all to get him to budge, and that’s kind of an important part of the dynamic.

(here’s her character profile for reference.)

As for the bed thing… honestly I’ve got no idea how that worked. cause you’re totally right, that bed is SMALL– relatively small for kiryu alone let alone two people, and she wasn’t legit living there so obviously she didn’t have her own room or anything. so my bet’s either that there was a futon that could be rolled out, since that’s pretty common in japan, or that she slept kinda cuddled up close to him and he just sort of laid there stiffly not really sure what to do about it– probably wearing him down with the good ol “well there’s only one bed and I wouldn’t want either of us to have to sleep on the floor…” one night, and she took that and ran with it from then on. either way, also of note, whenever she was around (or could show up at any time) he wore a full sweatsuit, even while in bed. yeah you could blame it on it being winter and all, but come on man who he hell wears a sweatshirt and sweatpants to bed. I think he was just genuinely uncomfortable with the idea of being unclothed in close quarters with her.

it seems like he wasn’t sleeping much in the first place anyway, so I don’t doubt he’d end up slipping away and falling asleep either on the floor or at the table or whatever at times. we know he’s not a big fan of being touched and cuddled or whatever when he doesn’t want it/by almost anyone, so I think it’d just be an ongoing losing battle between not wanting to be too harsh or rude, and preserving his own comfort and boundaries. as an autistic guy who’s particular about his sleeping conditions and necessary privacy myself, it kind of sounds like a nightmare not gonna lie.

anywho. I don’t wanna sound too negative towards mayumi as a character or anything, but it’s pretty straightforward that she was imposing on him quite a bit and did go beyond his boundaries at a time when he was especially emotionally vulnerable– and he let her in because she was in a place of vulnerability, at least so he thought. there’s plot reasons for her persistence in being there to an extent, and maybe that’s why she didn’t take the very very obvious hint that he was not interested in her and not just playing hard to get (is it really a hint when he tells her directly to her face? whatever you get it)

[defsoullr]

i wanna post but idk what to post so i will make a compilation of my recent Thoughts

people never follow my advice so i may as well stop giving any.

seriously i need to be paid for the amount of advice i try to give (that people dont even FOLLOW)

if it hasn't been done yet, an app made for writing that works like whatsapp would actually be good. sort of mirroring that feeling when you're roleplaying or simply delivering crazy stories to your friend. each new text is a story part. this may encourage me to write more since i'm breaking it up into less daunting, smaller texts. i'm even considering making a groupchat with just myself so i can really give it a try. the only problem is that i wouldn't be able to edit the previous texts i sent.

the day i learned about that one book that's designed to make you fall asleep- it's an entire- thick- book that is sold to make you sleep. it has a page full of words about sleep and their definitions, a page full of swirling text that makes your eyes tired- it's full of good stuff. now, some perspective comes in right here: to be honest, this is so far from what i get in mind when i think about publishing a book. but, like, it is a book. a book is not just a story, not just a study- it can be that simple, it can be about anything, i can write about anything. relevance is so wildly subjective... on that note, it is simply cruel to sit here and think to myself "i'd love to publish a book but i probably can't because it takes too much time." because that's a bit of a restrictive way of thinking, isn't it? a book can be anything, really. lighten up on that regard.

geniuses are severely outnumbered by regular people, and this keeps me up at night. if this world is being managed by anyone, i'd like the geniuses to be doing it. not the oligarchical power monopolies claiming to be something else (democracy... totally "elected" by democracy).

everything going on inside my head is true- just, at different time intervals. love life, peace all around, chaotic absurdism? yes, when i'm on That Phase of my cycle. everything is wrong, we need to burn society and rebuild it, i wanna run off into the woods? also yes, when i'm on That Other Phase of my cycle. i'm not either of these ideologies, i have both of them within me. not all answers need to be clear and easy.

i constantly get this ridiculous craving where i want to have 20 years of experience in something but i'm not even 20 yet.

every bad outcome starts with a habit, and i could be forming one of those habits at any given day. for something like excessive depression, weight or overall health issues- any day could be my day 1. looming anxiety and fear...

but also, every good outcome starts with a habit! today could be the day 1 of something i'll be so grateful for in the future. it's all good! here comes the train of optimism and hope

now why is there a rise in... anti intellectualism. i just can't stand the suddenly common distaste over long text. how about we start treating academics a little better? what is with this surge of people saying they hate reading long text, hate reading anything at all, hate deeper dives into any concept ever; how are people confidently- with their whole chest- saying that they hate intellectual conversations? why is being (proudly) dumb becoming a... a trend? an actual trend? it even has a name! what i said in the beginning, anti intellectualism, is what it is called- it's relevant enough to be named! oh DEAR i am losing my marbles

yes i had to open google translate a couple of times while typing this thread because english sure is a language, and i also had the dictionary open because i don't trust my brain sometimes. it's usually saying things. i'd like to spew minimum nonsense if i can

i wonder how many rants i have in me in this given moment. ngl, 12 is an impressive number. not impressive if we consider the amount of argumentative thoughts i actually have on a daily basis, but impressive considering how forgetful i can be.

i think this is a good number to finish on. also, i am starting another busy period in college tomorrow and i am super not ready. i need to pull out an actual journal and write some stuff just to ease my nerves. find solid ground again, because i feel like i'm just drifting to places at this point. let's not let life run its course, or at least pretend to intervene, because i need to feel in control again. having some faint idea on how the next week will look like, definitely helps.

won't read and edit this lol, imagine actually reading this again. i ain't reading all that (!)

[sainzers]

THE FINAL GAMBIT SPOILER!!!

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i think this is my favorite moment between grayson and avery despite how angsty it is. i don't really like reading angsty or sad moments in books but ill let this one pass and make it my favorite.

because everything came down to this moment. all the build up from the first book, the little things they find attractive about one another, how they care about each other, and all the moments they share together- it all came down to this.

there's no way they're not in love with one another. but maybe they feel a different type of love. or maybe avery just loves jameson a lot little bit more because i do believe people can outlove (?) some other people.

but im not here to complain about the ending, even though i am team grayson and will root for the man until the end of this, because i do think avery is meant for jameson. they bound to fall in love guys. they're literally right there, together. all the glittery and sparkling feelings from solving the puzzles and riddles together are what they live for. they're meant to be and i can't think about avery and grayson getting together.

in terms about character development, jameson definitely gone through it the most. i don't need to elaborate on that because it's classic/common one for a male main character. but grayson also went through a path of his own character development from his guilt and depressive phase after the tragedy with emily to slowly moving on to avery even though it's a one sided love. that's one hell of a journey on its own.

jameson is good at distracting himself while grayson is too good at putting a wall up around him.

i hate love triangle but since it's a mystery book it doesn't strongly suggest the trope as one of the main plot until this third book. the way it's written just doesn't give it away as much but you're very aware of it. that being said, every little moments between avery and either grayson and jameson, just feel a lot more enthralling. so i did enjoy reading it.

one last thing, i really love the first paragraph i annotated in this part because loving an idea of someone is very common, i think. we already have our own impression of other person when we first met them so might as well develop a whole love for said person after the sweet moments we spent together. it does happen and it's scary because people are unpredictable and after loving an idea of that person for a long time, a response to that may go one way or another. unless you truly and wholeheartedly love said person for who they are and maybe you can hope for them to reciprocate the feeling.

and for grayson to confess his feelings to avery and accepting her not reciprocating his, is very gut-wrenching and heartbreaking to witness. but as i already said before, we all saw it coming from miles away. it's just a matter of getting the words out in the air and settling it down for some sort of closure for them.

so yes i detest this moment but also relish it for what it is.

[astrojoy]

Moon Dominant Culture

🔵 Needs an aesthetic or cozy home to feel secure and emotionally stable

🔵 The traditional/ideal mom/father

🔵 Might be the one to not be able to punish their kid

🔵 Super protective

🔵 Emotion over logic

🔵 Treats family and friends as if they're their own

🔵 More prone to alchaholism

🔵 Super caring and comforting

🔵 Probably went through an emo phase

🔵 If they grew up in a harsh household then it really took a toll on them

🔵 Moon water could help heal these people or work extremely well in spells

🔵 Extremely high intuition

🔵 Would be talented in the arts

🔵 The grandma/grandpa to bake cookies for their grandchildren/nephews

🔵 "Have you eaten yet? Are you sad? Come here let's talk about it 🥺"

🔵 May have a round face

🔵 Soft skin/body

🔵 Gets drained easily

🔵 Need alone time with a glass of tea to rejuvenate

🔵 Sleep can really help these folk

🔵 Cuddles!

🔵 Baths and showers is a major healing factor too!

🔵 Look young for their age or they will just age slower physically!

🔵 Looking at the moon with some music will be super soothing

🔵 Emotionally fragile when young, emotionally strong when grown up

🔵 Can be totally moody if someone gets on their bad side. For females they might laugh, cry, and everything in between during their period. Sometimes they might feel super relaxed though

🔵 Anyone can come to you with their problems

🔵 Extremely sensitive to the environment

🔵 The therapists/counselors/healers/nurses

🔵 If you're in a bad mood, then their in a bad mood

🔵 Oily skin is very common with these people. A lot of them were definitely acne prone during teen years

🔵 If your parent ever came home annoyed and asks why you had an attitude, it's because of their own emotions they brought home

🔵 More easily prone to depression

🔵 When their mad - "WHERES MY SNUGGIE AND HOT CHOCOLATE??" 😡

🔵 Not all of these people have bad cramps during periods

🔵 If they grew up spoiled, then they can be way more moody in general

🔵 Could have been considered quiet at school in their younger years

🔵 They have an easier time being themselves when they're home

🔵 The 4th house is important in their charts in some way

🔵 Love animals so so much

🔵 The silent cryers during sad movies

🔵 This placement reminds me of a parent making their kids school lunch and saying "Have a nice day at school!"

🔵 A lot of people with this don't want to have children. Not all but a good bit

🔵 Less prone to cheating. Would rather break up before it ever comes down to that

🔵 Either really close to there mom or not close at all

🔵 Possibly has more feminine friends

[foryoumyheroes]

Otaku

[Bakugou + Todoroki] are in love with the anime character [Name]. 

A/N:  Gender-neutral reader  Crackish?? 

Bakugou Katsuki: 

He’s sort of picky with the genre, be it fantasy, horror, shonen, but his favorite character has to be a super cool, super powerful one. No excuses. 

You know, the type of anime character that’s probably introduced through a silhouette of them posing dramatically with their notorious group whose image is teased throughout the first few episodes/seasons. 

He goes pretty hard for All Might, and he’s definitely the same for your character. 

Reads the manga (but he buys it super secretly, like in a hoodie at night and the cashier probably thinks that they’re being robbed until he brings the entire [Series] collection to the register). Watches the anime the moment it’s broadcasted, reads metas and watches youtube videos that talk about conspiracies/analyses of your character. 

NO ONE CAN KNOW THOUGH. 

He’s taking his anime phase to the grave. 

For some reason gets super aggressive when you’re being flirty or being shipped with another character?? He hates all the scenes that tease any potential romance between you and other characters. asdfgj He’s like, “No one is good enough for [Name]!!! Except for me.” 

He even tries to think up ways he can legitimately square up with them LMAO. Like he wonders how he could defeat your potential S/Os in a fight but y’all are like ,,, anime characters SO WHY DOES IT EVEN MATTER LOL 

“Three-sword style?? Tch, I’d fucking blow that bastard to bits.” 

“Who’s this Gaara of the Sand looking ass and why is the author getting so bold.” 

He even tries to think of how well your abilities match up with his own Quirk, this dork. 

THE LENGTHS HE WOULD GO FOR YOU.

If you were a real life person and your dislikes are lets say spicy food or loud, overbearing people, Bakugou would be like, “Tch I’m right, they’re wrong. Shut the fuck up!!!” But if his ultimate wifu/husbando has those dislikes he would be like, “Omg...😳😳 opposites attract...👉👈” 

He honestly tries to be a low-key fan (as in, not be a fan at all to outsiders), but if one day during class Kaminari ends up saying that in [Series], you’re the weakest character in your group/squad, Bakugou would get super angry. 

“Hey, Dunceface!! It’s so fucking obvious that you’re an anime-only fake fan, so don’t talk as if you know shit!” 

Bakugou is those “um actually” ;; fans 

Bakugou is a manga reader, so by the time your introduction scene or Ultimate Attack scene is being aired he becomes super OOC. He’s hyped for it for days, incredibly nervous at how the animators handle the scene. 

By the time he watches it?? 

THE ANIMATION!! THE VOICE ACTING!! YOUR COOLNESS!!! PLS ORA ORA HIM IN THE CHEST!! HE’S BEGGING YOU! IF YOU’RE GOING TO UNISON RAID WITH ANYONE PLS LET IT BE HIM!! 

He’s legitimately sweating buckets by the time the episode is over. A whole-ass fire hazard. 

Probably knows how to play your character theme on the drums. 

Omg but if your character dies/is hinted toward dying/or the most recent chapters ends with a cliffhanger where you’re fatally injured he will become legitimately depressed. 

Like holes himself in his dorm room for a whole day without contacting anyone and with the blinds drawn type of depressed. 

When he comes to class the next day with eye-bags and is slouching and his classmates think that something horrible has happened, it’s probably only Izuku who knows what’s going on. 

He’ll say, “You’re upset about the most recent chapter of [Series], right? I know it must be hard for you right now.” He’ll give Bakugou an officially licensed rubber strap of your character and Bakugou will just ;; cradle it in his hands softly. 

In complete seriousness, your character is probably someone who is strong physically, but publicly rallies for things like, “Failure is fine.” Your character arc would probably explore what it’s like being not good enough or feeling constantly disappointed, so he feels comfort in your character. 

Todoroki Shoto: 

In comparison to Bakugou, he’s probably a more low-key fan unintentionally, but goes just as hard. 

Buys all of the merch, limited-edition or not, has your picture set as his phone lockscreen and homescreen, has a little acrylic charm of you on his phone, follows several fanartists that draw your character on social media. He buys enough merch that his room looks like a glorified shrine. 

It’s canon that he reads manga, but I headcanon that he’s even less picky with his genres and willingly reads things like slice-of-life or shojo all the way to shonen or adult fantasy, so your anime could come from any possible story. 

Your character is probably someone who is sweet and kind but has a traumatic character backstory. 

He probably ends up thinking stuff like, “If [Name] was with me, I would never let them get treated like that.” asdhj he’s a dork too. 

Unironically dramatically quotes you during battle and thinks that it’s still badass because he’s a teenage boy in his anime phase. 

Doesn’t get into debates with people who don’t like your character. He’s like, “Everyone is entitled to their own opinion :)) even though they’re wrong. >:(.” 

If you’re from a sports/competition anime he’ll try to learn all of the rules, and even try it out for himself (if it’s not fighting) but he finds out that he’s... not very good at it. That doesn’t make him any less amazed though! 

If your character is from a different culture with different customs and traditions, he’ll even learn more about them outside of your anime! 

Forces his siblings to watch the anime with him. They don’t necessarily have to, but the Todoroki household has one big TV and he hogs it all the time watching your anime over and over. 

Natsuo is begging him to watch something else and Shoto will just pout angrily from the other side of the couch.( ￣＾￣)

It’s so jarring because he doesn't look or appear like a hardcore anime fan, but sometimes he’ll just butt into conversations randomly and talk about you. 

Like you know those tumblr Naruto posts that talk about it as if it’s some sort of Renaissance literature. That’s Todoroki. 

[”Man, they’re so hot--!” 

“You want to see someone hot?” Todoroki asks with a perfectly straight face, and he’ll just... turn his phone around and show them a picture of an anime character.] 

When his dad tries to set him up with someone else: “You think they’re my type? Do they watch [Series]? Do they know what true friendship is?? Do they understand pining and love the way [Name] does?” 

Endeavor: who the FUCK is [Name]. 

Gets into fanfiction because of your character and series. He’ll just be reading on his phone during break times at school and everyone thinks that he’s being so well-read but he’s just reading pure smut with a straight face. 

Doesn’t mind when you’re shipped with other characters necessarily but he is super picky. If your character is hinted toward a potential romance with another character that’s pretty crass and doesn’t necessarily treat you well but you’re sticking together through the power of friendship, he won’t ship it. 

He’s just like “[Name] would be so much happier with someone else like me.” ://// 

And if your character goes through something traumatic or terrible during the series he’ll be so sad, like soooo sad. :((( Deku would probably be comforting him on the couch in the common room and everyone is concerned because he looks like he’s mourning a lost pet, but it turns out to be over some anime character pshhhsdfh. 

Deku would just be patting his shoulder trying to console him and Todoroki’s just sitting there with a big frown on his face going, [“But they’ve been through so much throughout the anime already...” 

“I know, Todoroki-kun, I know...” 

“The author can’t do that to them... It’s just not fair.”

“I get it,” Midoriya says mournfully.]  

Plot twist: They like the same anime character 

They’ll probably find out when they have to retake the license exam together. 

Todoroki will just take his phone out during off times and Bakugou’s eyes looks over because it’s drawn by the noise but then his head just snaps to the side when he realizes its a little charm of you, like, he’s going to get whiplash from that. 

“What the -- is that [Surname] [Name]?!” 

Like they have never really hung out together before this, so when they both first realize that their favorite character of all time is [Name] they’re left ,, just standing there ,,, pointing at each other like the spiderman meme.

At first they’re both inwardly excited because FINALLY someone cultured and with taste. They spend the entire time talking about your stats, your attacks, your post-timeskip character design, and your personality, and then they delve a little bit deeper and then they realize ,,, oh. 

Bakugou says that you don’t belong with the dumb protagonist, you should be shipped with someone strong, confident and loud, but Todoroki is like noooooo they deserve to be with someone that treats them gently. 

They connect the dots. 

[“Bakugou, you aren’t compatible with [Name]. It says so in their trivia page.” 

“Says you! They won’t want some bland-ass pretty boy! They would want a real man!”] 

They’re such fanboys ;;; they do realize that you aren’t real, right asdfghj?

One day Kaminari and Sero separately invite them to an anime convention, but they both say no and that they have plans or “something better to do” that day. 

Then Bakugou and Todoroki both turn up to the convention at the same place because they both reach for the last limited edition [Name] figure and they just stare at each other wide-eyed (ʘoʘ╬) like that. 

They start verbally fighting each other over the last figure and then physically fighting each other andddd then they get kicked out of the convention. 

Izuku ends up swooping in and getting the last box. 

[beyondspaceandstars]

The Wounded

Relationship: Steve Rogers x Reader [Dating], Bucky Barnes x Reader [Platonic] Warnings: mantions of kidnapping, slight depictions of PTSD, angst Summary: After you survive a kidnapping that ends up affecting you in ways you and Steve never anticipated, you turn to Bucky for comfort leaving Steve confused and insecure. A/N: alright this is an older one I had sitting on my computer i felt like uploading but very sorry for the lack of content! I am currently dealing with finals but this is my last year so fingers crossed i’ll have more time after this! Still, please enjoy this, I remember really enjoying writing it :)

Masterlist

You shot up in bed suddenly, praying your eyes would adjust to the pitch black darkness of your bedroom fast enough to ease your brain. As your heart raced and sides ached with bruises, you took in your surroundings finally.

You were in your bed, your boyfriend Steve sleeping peacefully next to you. You knew this in your brain but your heart didn’t. It still raced relentlessly, just a haunting reminder of your latest nightmare.

The nightmares always had the same theme. They always seemed to circle back to your troubling and scarring kidnapping you had suffered just a few weeks ago. It was a devastating ploy by some equally devastating men to get to your boyfriend. The abduction didn’t last very long — just about a week in some musty, dirty cell being kicked around — but the scars it left on your brain where so much deeper than you had ever realized until recently.

The physical abuse was bad but the bruises and cuts were healing just fine. It was the mental and emotional games they played that was going to take longer to ease. The words were haunting and they followed you in every crevasse of your brain, typically leaving you running on a couple of hours a sleep. It was a cruel routine: go to bed safe and sound, find peace for two hours, wake up in a cold sweat, watch mindless TV in the common area until breakfast.

Here we go, you thought as you made your way out of the bed. Steve was still undisturbed, in a peaceful dream sleep, typically unaware of your absence. The few times he had caught on you rushed him back to bed, claiming you just wanted a midnight snack. He never questioned it but his eyes always told you he wasn’t convinced. You ignored it — you just couldn’t tell him. The guilt he carried about your kidnapping was unbelievable. You worked so hard to convince him you were alright, it wasn’t ever his fault, and that the wounds were healing because you couldn’t bare to see those eyes in such a miserable state.

It really wasn’t a total lie — the wounds were swell and you wouldn’t dare to blame him for something not in his control — but then the nightmares started. The daunting voice began chiming in. The depression… the anxiety… the fear… it all came at once so unexpectedly.

You tugged on your fluffy robe along with your slippers and made your way to the kitchen. As you rounded the corner you were stunned to see the kitchen light already on. Peaking your head in, your eyes fell on Bucky who was situated at the kitchen island  snacking on some chips.

You stared, unsure of whether you should head to the living room and venture into the kitchen. No one had ever been up with you before and if they did, they never made themselves known.

"I can feel you staring, Y/N."

Bucky’s rough voice brought you out of your ridiculous phase. You sighed and made your way to the fridge.

"What are you doing up?" You asked, grabbing a carton of vanilla ice cream along with a spoon and making your way to the island. You stood opposite of him, watching and waiting for a reply as he crunched on the chips.

"Isn’t this the time you always get up?"

His question stunned you. Holding his intense stare, you placed your spoon on the counter next to the ice cream. Suddenly, your stomach was in a knot. Maybe a part of you didn’t want anyone to know what was going on.

"I just wanted a snack," You gave your go-to spiel but the ex-assassin wasn’t buying one bit of it.

"Every night?" Bucky scoffed. "Probably should eat a bigger dinner, then."

You rolled your eyes as he gave you his know-it-all smirk. You loved Bucky really —totally loved his company and all that — he had been such a great friend to you and so inviting but no matter what, without a fail, he could always pick up on anything that was off. Steve, of course, could see right through you but he always gave you the benefit of the doubt. He was gentler with you, never wanting to pry or upset you, and you were so thankful for that. But Bucky didn’t give a shit — if something was wrong he was gonna find out one way or another.

"Why are you up?" You repeated your initial question, getting a bit fed up with this now. He stalled your question and reached for more chips. You sighed in annoyance and opened the ice cream carton, digging into the creamy deliciousness.

"Something’s up with you," Bucky finally answered. His voice was a bit softer and way less cocky. Hearing someone express they saw you weren’t okay nearly had you in tears. You shoveled more ice cream in your mouth, staring down at the granite counter.

You shook your head. "Just wanted a snack."

"Jesus Christ, Y/N." Bucky groaned. "Come on, don’t make this hard." You placed your spoon in the carton, pushing it to the side. You fiddled with your nails as thoughts and feelings swarmed in your brain. It couldn’t hurt for someone to know, right?

"Nightmares," You spoke softly, voice cracking ever so slightly. "Just some bad nightmares."

"The kidnapping," He whispered. You saw his fists clinch at the mention of it. Your kidnapping had shocked everyone. They all had their own way of handling it but usually it was just a lot of confusion. You weren’t some hero. You didn’t have magical power or a fancy training. You were just a nurse who bandaged up the heroes when they came back. Even with dating Steve, no one expected you to be a casualty.

"It’s really messing with my brain," The words were rough to get out but once they were out there, you felt a new freedom. A weight you never realized was so heavy was being lifted so carelessly with words.

Bucky just nodded and waited for you to continue.

From then on, your nightly routine was no longer a lonesome thing. Bucky began joining you every night with snacks and a therapy session. It felt easy to talk with him about it especially since he understood. He didn’t have to pretend to know how you felt — he had felt it all, too. He got what being captive was like, how the mental manipulation went, how strong the effects of it all could be… You for once didn’t feel crazy. But most importantly — someone knew. Like really knew. And you were immensely grateful.

It seemed to be helping as well. You knew when the thoughts got rough, you could just spew it all out. You could talk about what exactly had happened to you without fear of being looked at differently. The whole thing was like breathing fresh air. You could even sometimes fall back asleep on the couch which now put your sleeping time up to four glorious hours.

The nightly chats really put your daytime spirits back up. So much so, Steve was getting a little suspicious. While he was so relieved you seemed to be doing better, the steps you took to get there were still a mystery to him and you could tell he was curious. When you’d join him in your shared room at the end of the day, he’d ask more questions about what you had done through the day. It was almost like he wanted a play-by-play and you did your best to comply.

It wasn’t until a week or so later that he started catching on to you leaving in the middle of the night. Without knowing it, he had used all his might to stay up one night to see if something was going on. You didn’t appear to be doing anything but work during the day so something must’ve been happening in the night — and that’s when his mind wandered. The thoughts of what could be helping you started to get a little unpleasant.

It was a random Tuesday night and you were on the couch with Bucky eating some pretzels. He was sitting up right while you were laying on the couch, legs thrown over his lap. You were going on about how your nightmares had gotten weaker when unexpected foot steps halted your words.

"What’s this?" The unmistakably strong voice of your boyfriend boomed through the living room. You scrambled to sit up, throwing pretzels all over the coffee table. Both stunned and unsure, you and Bucky stared at Steve. His demeanor was hard, his face unamused, and his eye said he was ready for a fight.

"Steve, babe, what-," You fumbled for your words, trying your best to reason. He hadn’t caught you two doing anything but his energy was so startling it made you unexplainably scared.

"What? What am I doing up? What are you doing up?" He marched towards the couch. Hesitantly, you stood up to face him. Bucky stayed seated, looking at you both with a slight expression of annoyance. He knew how possessive his best friend could get but this felt excessive.

"Just wanted a snack-,"

"Don’t bullshit me," Steve growled, taking an intimidating step towards you. You jumped at the harshness. Sure, you guys had had disagreements before but this was entirely new.

"I… I’m not… Steve-,"

Steve took a deep breath.

"Y/N," His voice got deeper. It was slightly too calm compared to his attitude just seconds before. "Tell me why you’re up at night sneaking around with my best friend."

"Sneaking around?!" You gasped. "Steve, that is not-,"

"OH, IT’S NOT?" Steve’s voice boomed throughout the common area. Even a watching Bucky jumped at the noise.

You quickly backed away from him, completely scared beyond belief. His eyes were harsh, his entire demeanor fuming with anger. You had never seen anything like this from him and it started to bring up the memories you worked so hard to heal from.

"Steve, man, take it down a notch…" Bucky finally stood from the couch and placed his hands on Steve’s shoulder.

Steve flinched back, nearly ready to throw one at Bucky, but something in him clicked. He lowered his hand and took a few deep breaths. Coming to his senses, he looked at you and saw the absolute horror on your face. He had never seen you look at him like that and it broke him into a million pieces.

"I… just… what the hell is going on?" Steve meant for it to come out nicer, but the harshness was yet to leave him and his tone. You started rubbing your hands together, a nervous tick you’ve had forever. Bucky tried to get you to stop when he noticed your movements, but Steve’s cold glare wouldn’t let him anywhere near you.

"I can’t sleep anymore," you said, breaking the silence with a much more powerful voice than you intended. You didn’t know you had the strength. "Ever since… I can’t sleep. I keep having these nightmares and Bucky’s been helping."

Steve scoffed, "Helping?"

Bucky rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest. Now you were getting weary of both super soldiers.

"We sit up talking," Bucky explained. "It helps her… well both of us, really, to talk, watch TV… anything."

"And you didn’t tell me this because…?" Steve asked, pointing his attention back on you. When his eyes met yours, a shiver went down your spine as his cold gaze. You sighed, realizing the gig was up.

"God, Steve, I didn’t wanna worry you!" You exclaimed. "The last thing you need is a girlfriend with PTSD. You go through enough shit and I just didn’t wanna pile it on."

The admission sat in the air heavily around you three. Bucky looked relieve you finally said something but Steve’s eyes just held so much confusion. Personally, you felt so much weight coming off you. You thought you’d never have to tell him, assumed everything would sort itself out, but no, you finally spoke up.

"Honey," Steve sighed with sudden tears forming in his eyes. "You didn’t… You shouldn’t have done that, you know you can tell me anything, right?"

You nodded, "Steve it was just so scary. I didn’t know what to do. Bucky was just there and he got it and would just sit up with me and-,"

"Alright, hon," Steve cut you off and made his way closer. Thankfully, you didn’t flinch away. "I understand and I’m glad you had someone, but I would’ve helped. I can help you, sweetheart."

"I’m sorry," You whispered as he pulled you into a hug. You threw your arms around his torso and buried your face in his chest, letting the pent up tears flow. Steve rest his chin on your head, stroking your hair softly.

"I didn’t know you were hurting this much," he admitted.

"It’s been so fucking scary,"

Steve could almost feel his heart breaking at the sound of your voice alone. Your words just piled on so much.

"I should let you two…" Bucky began, essentially forgotten standing next to you two. You pulled away from Steve to look at him.

"Thank you, Buck," you said.

Steve nodded in agreement. "I’m sorry for the overreacting I just… I thought the worst, but really you probably saved my girl."

Bucky gave a small smile and patted Steve on the back. "I didn’t do anything. It’s her strength you gotta thank."

With that, he made his way to the elevator and back to his room, leaving you two still standing in an embrace in the common area. You stared up at Steve, watching his expression towards you change. What was once so scary and harsh was back to the softest man you’d ever met.

"We’ll make some calls in the morning but for now, would you come back to bed?" Steve asked. "I can’t imagine anymore nights without you."

You nodded, giving him a peck on the lips. He led you back to the shared bedroom and for once, you went to bed with a sense of hope.

[saberstars]

I'm Here

Pairing: Gender Neutral Y/N & Loki

Fluff, angst, implied smut

Warnings: Mentions of depression/mental illness, epilepsy/seizures, mentions of sex, as always if I missed anything feel free to let me know

Summary: Loki & You have a pre-existing friendship with benefits & one night you have a seizure after some spiciness. He cares for you helping you afterwards & makes sure you rest easy & safe. Reader is portrayed to have seizures more so during changes in sleep phases, not awake. The wake seizures or more of a medium ish absence/ focal aware seizure that only occur on occasion & can be “fought” through.

Word Count: 1796

Notes: This was intended to be a gender neutral reader. I think I removed all he/she pronouns.

Additionally, I know that not everyone experiences seizures the same way, and that epilepsy can affect people differently. This is all written from my experiences with it, so I ask that you do not tell me I portrayed something wrong. I can and will accept constructive criticism, But I will not accept someone telling me blatantly that I am wrong with my experiences. Therefore please keep that in mind when reading. I genuinely hope this fic brings others comfort if you suffer from epilepsy or any disorder that causes seizures. Thank You <3

It’s been three years since you found out you suffered from epilepsy. A diagnosis that came late in your life to be fair. As a young child up until you reached adulthood, you suffered from eye shakes that would eventually turn into stuttering spells that made it difficult to breath or not breath properly at all. You never passed out though, you got close a few times, but you managed to stay awake and “fight it off.” You started to notice over time that you’d also get a strange taste in your mouth, almost like metal or as if you were sucking on a battery and it had that zing flavor. You knew that was a precursor and would panic on cue rightfully so. You hated when you had your mini stutter fests because all you could do was hope it didn’t happen.

Of course you complained to your parents as a child but they didn’t think it was anything. They said it was just a panic attack. So you took their word for it. That was until you started having grand mals in your sleep. At first you thought they were just a part of some strange dream, that wasn't real to you, not yet anyway. You would wake up exhausted, sore, sometimes unable to move properly, walk, open and close a fist, and you just overall couldn't stay conscious sometimes. Again you complained to your parents about it, but they said it was nothing. You probably had night terrors or some form of minor sleep paralysis. So you dumbly believed them.

When you moved out, You sought answers, and eventually got them. You were grateful. The medication they prescribed helped tremendously though, it did make you tired but it was worth not having your episodes. Thankfully your case wasn’t as severe as others and it was manageable so long as you took care of yourself and took your medications. Though you were warned, breakthroughs were common, and missing your dose can and would cause a seizure.

Despite having such a diagnosis, you kept it to yourself. You never really told anyone. It wasn’t until you started sleeping with a friend, that you finally divulged your secret too in the event that it ever happened whilst they were with you.

It was someone you randomly slept with on and off with. A friend with benefits, his name was Loki. You had met the god shortly after his father had passed and his home, destroyed. You found comfort with each other despite it being more of a sexual comfort. You both used sex as a way to fight your own demons, a distraction, a quick grab at serotonin. Despite the sex you both developed a very deep friendship. You’d read together on occasion, have very interesting debates on current events, history, as well as other nuances, and a lot of other things. You even met his brother and the avengers at one point.

You both slept soundly after spicy events had taken place 2 hours prior, Loki had come over desperate for attention of any kind. He didn’t say why, but you knew it was a rather serious topic he wished not to discuss and rather lessen the pain with ecstasy. Little did you know, on this day a few years ago he indirectly murdered his mother. He blamed himself dearly, he knew if he would have kept his mouth shut for once in his life she may be here today. So he needed a genuine distraction. One of any kind. Preferable you. Due to the spicy events that took place you missed your dose, due to falling asleep promptly after, which cost you dearly. Missing doses always caused this to happen no matter what.

You gasped for air like usual, your body contorting outwards first with a thrust. You were awake, conscious, and terrified for the few seconds you normally were given before blacking out. You began to stutter violently all the air leaving your lungs as it happened. Until no sounds were made and it was just you chattering. Loki woke immediately, with a completely calm exterior despite a raging mixture of emotions internally. He knew you never called an ambulance for these things because you were normally alone & unaware until you became conscious again. She made him promise to never call 911 unless it was over a certain time length, to save her medical expenses, or unless she stopped breathing for good.

Loki dare not touch you though as you shook and curled up. The last thing he wanted was his godly strength to crush you somehow or cause you more pain. Instead he watched and hovered until you finally stopped. It was a short 50 second one, which was under your time limit, but he still debated calling. It’s not like You would’ve known he lied.

His breathing hitched as he went to check your pulse and airway, ever so delicately, which were both clear and strong.

“Oh thank you.” he whispered

A few hours had slid by with still no response from you. Loki sat next to you, staring down at you, to the point where he would fight the urge to blink, waiting for a stir of some kind from you. He did give the courtesy of redressing you though, in a nightgown from a drawer after an hour slid past. He even went as far as ensuring that you were adequately covered by the blankets to avoid being chilled. It has been 3 ½ hours now, with no stir of any kind from you. He knew it would be awhile before you showed any signs of movement possibly but this worry tore him to his core. In the midst of waiting he refused to just idly go back to sleep next to you, he was determined to stay awake until you were conscious again, so that you knew, he stayed there waiting for you. Loki didn’t know when he found himself talking to you as if you were awake, but all he knew was that it made him feel a bit better, and he hoped that when you woke it would make you feel better too.

“You know, I’ve been reading this really dumb gothic romance novel. I think you’d like it because of how naive the girl is. I know you like to criticize and pick on how they make decisions.” he spoke with a chuckle in his voice thinking back to how you’d flail your arms and drop your book to scream about how dumb some main protagnist could be.

“I'll have to buy you a copy or give you mine when I’m done.” Loki shifted his weight from his right to his left brushing your bangs out of your eyes.

“I don’t know why you keep those so long, all they do is get in the way of your gorgeous eyes.”

It was in that moment you rustled, you shifted your neck ever so slightly, Your eyelids twitch. Loki leaned forward parting his lips as he watched with a heart of hope completely overwhelmed with joy when he saw the color of your iris’s. He exhaled a shaky breath cupping your cheeks which caused you to flinch sending a wave of shocks through your body. It was at that moment you knew. You knew what he saw, what he had gone through. Your heart sank and you immediately berated yourself internally despite your exhausted state.

“It’s ok you don’t have to say or do anything. I’ll stay, I’ll take care of you for as long as you need.” Loki assured you, wanting you to know that you didn’t have to go through this alone. You never really had anyone stay, let alone worry about you. Your eyes began to water as tears rolled down your face.

“I’ll go grab you some water, you’re probably parched. I’ll also grab you a banana. I read that potassium can help with the cramping.” Loki said leaving to yourself for a moment. He also grabbed tissues for your eyes and nose just in case. Upon returning her placed everything at your side offering help to sit up. “Do you need to use the bathroom or help sitting up?” He asked with a gentle tone.

You nodded trying to take a good deep breath so you could speak a bit. “I’m so sorry you had to see that… but thank you. Thank you for staying, for helping. I do need the bathroom and I would appreciate help. My legs are still...” you mustered out with all your might but after a point your tongue refused to work with you.

“Of course, I may be a monster but I’m not entirely cruel. If it helps… you can just think to yourself and I can listen that way. So that you're not struggling too much.” Loki admitted with a tone of self depreciation.

“You're not a monster just because you're different & have made mistakes.” you thought as Loki picked you up bridal style walking you to the bathroom. Of course he placed you down on the toilet and waited outside for you to do what you needed. Since he had only added a nightgown to your previously naked body it made things easier. It was exhausting to just sit up and do everything but you pushed through. You even pushed yourself up and limped to the sink best you could to wash your hands. Upon hearing the faucet though Loki came back in standing behind you offering support if needed.

“Catch me~” you thought before falling back into his arms with a snort.

“You're lucky I have godlike reflexes you minx.” He replied with a hint of flirtation. You had used more than you had in you to wash your hand. Loki caught you obviously and carried you back to the room placing you back on the bed. “No, more like I knew you were ready to catch me.” you slowly thought as exhaustion tugged at your consciousness again. Loki noticed the pill bottle on your dresser before prompting you to take it. Instinctively opening it and sliding one into his hand.

“You should probably take this before you fall asleep.” You took it mentally saying thanks drinking the glass of water with it.

“Yeah that would probably help avoid some added breakdancing.” You joked trying to use humor to lighten the situation. Loki stared plain faced trying not to entertain your joke though, despite finding it secretly witty. Maybe he’d laugh at it when you felt a bit better. Soon after you began to dance between awake and sleep. Loki took note based on how your thoughts jumbled around between multiple things, laughing to himself a bit before minor intrusive fears began picking at you. Loki immediately jumped into action in an attempt to squash them soothing you a bit.

“You can sleep soundly, please get some rest. You don’t have to force yourself to stay awake out of fear or guilt.” Loki spoke in the most caring and sweet tone he could muster up. Trying to convince you that it was going to be ok & it worked. Somehow you knew he was right & that you could trust him completely. You drifted back to sleep peacefully thinking about how for the first time in your life, you didn’t fear sleeping in your bed. You didn’t have intrusive thoughts about whether or not you’d wake up in the morning or not. Which honestly brought tears bubbling their way up and out of Loki's eyes. The amount of trust you had in him in your thoughts, at that moment completely took his breath away. And that was something he wasn’t going to break or ever lose.

[tamagochiie]

pairing: timeskip!kenma x fem!reader synopsis: You come home late from your cousin’s funeral, and though Kenma didn’t expect much from you but perhaps a few leftovers you’ve managed to steal away from the dinner, he finds you with a surprise: a sleeping child cradled around your neck and a teenage boy hovering behind you. Your poor boyfriend wondering what in the hell it is you’re plotting… tags: angst and fluff, time skip!, slight spoilers if you squint warnings: mentions of death, mentions of depression, cursing, mentioned homophobia w/c: 3.6k

tagging list:  @angrylittleriri​ @chims-kookies​ @gooseyhouse @kiyokoscunchie​ @unhappyraspberry​ @elianetsantana​ 

a/n: welcome to the THIRD chapter of the fic! i hope you’re all doing well since i’ve last posted. I genuinely apologize for the delay! a few personal things kinda popped up, and it kinda derailed the process of posting this fic, but at least we’re here now!  this is a bit longer compared to the other chapters, but i hope you all enjoy! please ignore any grammar mistakes, i proof read this to the best of my ability and it’s currently 5 in the morning :’) 

see you all next week for the final chapter.  p.s. I do have a smol surprise, so stay tuned for next week! 

back to master list

<< life as she’s known it | life as they’ll know it >>

Kenma had always been aware of the common misconception people had of him, and the lack of interest they had to confirm it: that he had the inability to express his thoughts and feelings let alone identify it. 

In a way, he did find it rather difficult to open up. Being bullied as a child silenced him into the dreading assumption that anyone who was kind to him or showed any interest in him were only doing so just to mess with him. 

It took Kuroo quite a lot when he first met Kenma. He bent his little body over and under, jumping through hoops like a show pony just to get Kenma to even blink his way. And though all that effort strained him, he wouldn’t hesitate to tell you he’d do it all again if he could. 

But it wasn’t a question of whether or not Kenma could identify what he was feeling and thoroughly express it. He had the right words, all of which were hanging off the tip of his tongue. He just didn’t know how to say it without sounding insensitive or heartless. 

So as he stares at Yuki twirling in a dress you found digging through one of your old childhood clothes, his lips run dry. His words tuck behind the swell of his heart because though Yuki does indeed look like the cutest child he’s ever seen, his thoughts are full of concern, worried about what people say to a little boy showing up in a jean overall dress with purple and yellow flowers embroidered at the hem. 

His eyes gape onto the sight before him, flickering over to Eiji when he hears him clear his throat. He seems just as troubled, quieter than usual while he watches over his brother. Not a single trace of amusement is seen in Eiji’s face. He doesn’t seem happy at all, and it phases Kenma; he’s usually stoic if not smiling in the presence of Yuki. 

Yuki continues to giggle himself, gripping onto the material of his dress to have it flow in the air. He looks up to meet your eyes, oblivious to the two boys muddled in their own distress. 

“I’m sorry, Yuki-chan,” You huff, smiling down to the little boy running circles in the middle of the living room. “If I had known the preschool was gonna accept you so soon, I would’ve brought you to the mall...But this should be fine for now, right? Is this okay with you, Yuki-chan?” 

Yuki disregards your apology, holding up your old frog raincoat as he beams at his “new” found clothes. 

“Plus, these don’t look so old, and it doesn’t look too girly, don’t you think?” You turn to Kenma who spares you nothing more than a nod. You follow his gaze and find it etched into the embroidered hem. 

It doesn’t pass off as boy clothes, he thinks, letting your words breeze past him. 

Kenma isn’t shy with breaking gender norms; he’s worn a few skirts and dresses himself, all that are still sitting in his closet to be worn again. His qualms aren’t with Yuki wearing a dress, but the treatment he’s expected to get when he shows up to his first day of school. He’ll be bullied into the same silence Kenma faced, and he’ll amount to nothing more than rubble beneath their judgement. 

They say times are changing, so the people must be too, right? But there’s a persistent constricting feeling building up in his chest as if it comes as a warning sign. And the fact that Eiji looks just as uneasy as himself hints that maybe Yuki should change out of something less...worrisome. 

“Mmm, Yuki,” Kenma clears his throat, trying to subside the build up of his uneasiness, “maybe you should wear something else…?” Yuki’s smile falters at his words as confusion colors away his joy. “I think you should wear the pants with the little frog shirt you picked out instead.” 

He doesn’t mean for his words to come out bitter and cold, and the momentum of his panic leaves a lump in his throat he isn’t too sure he’ll be able to swallow if he keeps his silence. 

Yuki looks up to him, blinking away at his words with glistening eyes. “I don’t look pretty?” Yuki’s voice comes out small--smaller than his fingers and toes. Smaller than his ability to comprehend where Kenma’s truly coming from. “You don’t like it, Kenma-san..?”

Oh no, he thinks to himself. Panic rises from his stomach and climbs up to his chest; a tightness in his throat soon follows when Yuki begins to blubber, telling him how mean he’s being. I didn’t mean to make him--

“Kozume.” You chide, looking at him quizzically. He meets your eyes and he instantly freezes up, thinking you, too, have come to misunderstand him. “What are you doing? Do something.” 

But he can’t. If he opens his mouth, he’ll only sound meaner than before, and he’d rather not add any more confusion or any more pain to the little boy. 

“Say something,” You push, glaring at him. “Kozume.” 

His throat goes dry as well as his lips, and when he finally does gain enough courage, Eiji takes a step forward beating him to the punch. “Yuki, I think it’s better you just wear pants. Dresses are for girls, and you shouldn’t be wearing this kind of stuff.” 

Your eyes widen and so does Kenma’s. Eiji’s is stern and clear in contrast to all the other times he’s spoken since he’s arrived. You watch as he kneels to meet Yuki’s eyes, placing a hand on his shoulder before running it up to his cheek to wipe away his tears. 

“There might be some problems if you wear a dress to school, Yuki-chan. And didn’t we promise each other we wouldn’t cause them any trouble for Oba-san and Kenma-san while we’re here?” Eiji’s voice is a lot soft, yet his words are still firm. Yuki quietly submits to his brother, hanging his head low as he continues to cry. 

You stand there both stunned. 

You want to speak up, but you’re still unsure of your place; who you are and what you can say. So you stand there with Kenma tightlipped at your side with tension hanging above your heads, watching as Yuki quietly sniffles to himself as he hugs the pile of clothes he’s picked and carries it into their shared bedroom. 

Needless to say, everyone goes to bed tucked beneath the covers of their guilt. 

                                                                                   ❁ ❁ ❁

Quiet mornings with a steaming cup at hand while treading lightly through the endless sea of emails in his iPad brought Kenma an odd sense of peace, and he looked forward to it every morning. But much to Kenma’s dismay, the apartment is too quiet and the coffee bitter; the chill in the atmosphere is unsettling as he falls into deep thought. 

He thinks back to the events of last night; Yuki’s crying face, your contorted look of confusion, and Eiji’s words. It all comes pouring down on him like a bucket of cold water. 

Not even his coffee can spare him from the chill down his spine. 

He mentally kicks himself, thinking of all the other ways he could’ve said it better. How he could’ve prevented him from breaking Yuki’s little heart and avoided your cold shoulder as you left in a hurry to take the kids to their schools. 

Kenma sucks in a breath as the stinging spreads across his chest. The weight of his cup grows heavy and he shifts his grip to a more comfortable hold. Nothing about the morning is comforting, and it leaves Kenma in distress, the feeling spilling into his work as he continues about his day. 

He can barely read a single line of an email let alone write one; his senses aren’t as sharp as he struggles to smoothen his hand-eye coordination during gaming; and he catches himself zoning out in the middle of his online meetings, barely humming responses to questions he pretends to hear. 

Kenma wonders how Yuki’s doing, and what he could do to apologize and gain his trust back. Maybe he’ll get some strawberry milk on the way to fetch him, or buy the little duck umbrella he caught him eyeing at the convenience store. 

Kenma isn’t good with words if one were to ask him to be gentle and kind. He’s blunt and straight to the point, and it took him more than just a while to get used to softening the blow of his words and how he delivers them. 

And now, as he muddles in his misery does he ingrain those habits deeper into thought until it becomes muscle memory to his lips. 

He’s only then pulled from his squabbles when the doorbells rings throughout the apartment. His feet drag him to the door as his mutters in his resentment. What in the hell could be here--

“You’re shitting me.” Kenma grimaces at  the sight of the cheeky grin plastered across his best friend’s face as he opens the door; his hair tousled to the side and his usual business attire unkempt.  “What the hell do you want?” 

Kuroo pouts, pretending to be wounded by the bitter greeting as he holds a hand to his heart. “Is that how you greet an old friend?” 

“Not now, Kuroo-san.” Despite the bite in his words and his half-hearted attempt to shut the door, Kuroo welcomes himself in, kicking his shoes to the side before trailing behind him. 

“I miss your calls,” Kuroo teases, eyes wandering about the apartment, “you don’t even text me back anymore.” 

“I don’t have the time.” Kenma grits as he pinches the bridge of his nose. A drunken, dizzying feeling whirling in his head; probably because of all the coffee he’s downed and the little water he’s consumed. “Whatever it is you’re here to pester me with, please save it for another time and leave.” 

“Why? Stay at home daddy roles keeping you occupied?” The cushion of the couch bends beneath Kuroo’s weight as he leisurely raises his feet to the coffee table, arms relaxing over to the arm rest. “I wasn’t so surprised when you became a CEO, but this--fatherhood was something I’d imagined you’d do much later...” 

Irritation seeps through Kenma’s skin in the form of tense muscles and a clenched jaw as Kuroo continues on to pass cheap jokes and badgers him. He swipes a bottle warm from the fridge before joining Kuroo on the other side of the couch, kicking his foot off the table on the way. 

“You’re so cold to me.” Kuroo whines, ruffling Kenma’s pudding head hair, earning a disapproving tsk. “Seriously, how’s it someone like you skips the step to marriage and dives straight to having kids? I’m a bit hurt. I had to hear it from Shoyo. Like, seriously? Shoyo? I thought I was your best friend?” 

“Self-proclaimed.” He corrects, unbothered by Kuroo’s sore expression as he untwists the cap from the bottle before chugging the water down in one breath. “Will you leave now?” 

“Why are you so keen to push me out?” Kuroo lifts himself off the warmth of the cushions, moving closer to his evidently troubled friend as he picks off the seal from the plastic bottle. “Kenma, are you okay? Kyanma?”

Pinching the bridge of his nose once again, Kenma shakes his head as he leans his head back. Kuroo tilts his head, watching as his friend unravels in his pain; manifesting both metaphorically and physically. 

“I’ve said something mean to a little boy and he didn’t even deserve it.” Kenma fiddles the empty bottle, tossing it to the side before anxiously fiddling with his fingers. 

“What happened?” 

A deep and heavy sigh escapes him, “He was wearing a dress and I told him he shouldn’t. A-And, And it’s not like I didn’t want him to. I don’t mind it all, but people are mean and the thought that he might face the same kind of treatment I did--Kuroo-san, I don’t want that.”

“You only meant well,” Kuroo places his hand on Kenma’s shoulder, rubbing circles against the material of his old Nekoma sweater. “Though, you could’ve said it better--” 

“You know damn well I’m not good at that!” Kenma spits, cutting him off. 

“But the point is, you meant well!” He reiterates. “Might’ve come across as a lil douche-y, but the intentions were there. But I think you of all people know that no matter what, there’ll always be someone mean. And I don’t think you can shield him from that. Maybe temporarily, but not forever.” 

“I don’t want that kind of pain for him!” Kenma abruptly stands from his place, frustration tingling at his fingertips as it spreads throughout the rest of his body. “He’s so small, Kuroo-san. You should’ve seen him. I said one thing and it already looked like he was gonna break. What happens when he hears words worse than mine? What’ll I do then? What can I do for him?” 

Sniffling. It is the sound that follows after Kenma’s voice breaks and causes Kuroo to raise his brows. At first he thinks his ears have tricked him, but when he finds tears pooling down to his chin as he collapses back onto his seat. 

And it is at this moment, after all the time that has passed, has he seen him break.  

“I-I don’t know how to do any of this. I’m so confused.” Kenma babbles on, stumbling on his own words and choking in between his sobs. And all Kuroo can offer is a soft, rhythmic pat on his back to try and calm him down.

“I’ve been doing some reading about how to understand children or how to raise one, but it's so different. There’s all these theories and guidelines, but no one tells you that you forget everything you read the second they appear in front of you…” 

Kenma holds his head in his trembling hands, crying even harder. All the while he wonders what the child version of him would think if saw him as fragile as the fallen leaves that’d crunch beneath his feet. He’d wonder if he had known the stress he’d fall prey to, would he have continued? 

But as the image of you bleed through his worries, he’s more than sure of his answer. 

Yes. 

Yes, I would. 

Over and over again in one breath. 

“You will be to that child what you needed when you were bullied.” Kuroo’s words are steady, matched with an endearing smile to comfort Kenma’s crying as he meets his glistening gaze. “You needed someone to reassure you that all you heard were nothing but lies, so you do that for him.” 

“Ah, my dear friend, have you not heard of the phrase ‘It takes a village to raise a child’?” Kenma merely blinks at him quizzically as Kuroo snakes an arm around him to bring him close. “What I’m tryna say is: stop acting like you don’t have me, and Shoyo, and the rest of your friends who’re just within your reach. No one ever said it was only just going to be the two of you.” 

Kenma swallows thickly, nodding in agreement as he wipes away the snot dripping from the tip of his nose. He says his thanks that’s quieter than a whisper, it comes airy and a bit croaky from crying. 

The words of his best friend doesn’t immediately fill his heart with peace, but it does lift a little weight from his shoulders. It does give him the sense of security he’s been searching for. And all Kenma wants to do now is apologize to Yuki-- 

“Speaking of,” Kuroo clears his throat, wandering his eyes around the expanse of the apartment. “Where are the kids…?” 

“Oh, shit.” 

                                                           ❁ ❁ ❁

Kuroo and Kenma’s feet click clack against the pavement as they run down to Yuki’s preschool. The cool afternoon air winds past the pair; Kenma’s chest is heaving in pain while Kuroo barely breaks a sweat. 

“I can’t believe you forgot the child!” Kuroo shouts behind him, laughing at Kenma struggling to catch up. “How could you forget a child?” 

“I was pretty preoccupied today!” Kenma countered between ragged breaths. “If your ass didn’t show up I would’ve remembered!” 

“Not with all that crying!”

“Don’t you dare bring that up ever!” 

Kuroo’s hyena laugh carries two blocks over. Head turn as the two continue to bicker all the way down until they arrive at the preschool. Children clamoring before the gate, mingling with their parents and Kenma’s hooded gaze sweeps through the crowd to find a familiar tousled head of hair. 

“What’s he look like?” Kuroo towers over Kenma and the children, squinting his eyes and looking around as if he’s got any clue. 

“He, uh, he should be wearing jeans and a frog shir--” Kenma’s attention is pulled from a string of voices singing praises to find Yuki proudly twirling in his embroidered dress, basking in their compliment. 

It becomes clear to Kenma you dire need to leave the house immediately was because of this. Because you were being coy.

But Yuki’s joy is short-lived, locking eyes with Kenma huffing for air after all the running. But to the young boy gaping up at him, it looks as if he’s ready to yell. So he stops his twirling, his smile slipping away as the rest of the kids’ turn to face him. 

Yuki straightens himself, adjusting the straps of his backpack as he carefully walks towards Kenma with his head hung low. Kuroo elbows his side and nearly knocks out the little air he has left. 

He swipes his tongue across his lips before he speaks, But before he can even utter a sound, his train of thought is pulled from him once again. 

“Disgusting.” An abrasive, disembodied voice grimaces. Not a single care if they’re heard. 

“Why the hell is he wearing a dress?” Says another. 

“Honestly, this generation…” 

“Boy’s aren’t supposed to be wearing dresses.” 

The chattering picks up and soon all the parents are ogling at Yuki who can hear them all so clearly, and Kenma notices him shrinking into his froggy raincoat, trying to hide from their judgemental stares. 

This, Kenma thinks. This is exactly what I mean. 

Kenma is not an emotional person, and not once did he ever raise his voice or act on what he was feeling without thinking it over. And as much as he’d like to throw his hands and cause a scene, he remembers Kuroo’s advice. 

“Who’s child is this?” One of the mothers questions. “Who does this child belong to?” 

“He belongs to me, Miss.” Kenma rasps, taking Yuki’s hand in his before turning to the woman. “I am the guardian and this is my child.” 

“And you allow your child to wear a dress?” 

“Yes.” He answers, finding the footing in his confidence to talk back to a woman who can easily tower over him if she steps closer. “Yes, and what does that have to do with you?” 

“Have you no shame?” She glares at him in disgust, sighing. “He’s a boy! Boy’s shouldn’t be wearing dresses! It’s for girls! What kind of message are you trying to teach him?”

 “And what about you, Miss? Are you proud to show your kid and all these other young minds that its okay to be a bigot? That it’s okay to be uneducated?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“Then beg.” Kenma spits, his cat eyes burning holes into the mother’s skin. He’s completely unphased by the growing whispers exchanged between the parents. Kuroo watches proudly in the background, quietly cheering him on. “Skirts were worn by both men and women during the prehistoric times, and biologically speaking, it makes more sense if men were to wear skirts. They only stopped because people as close minded and uneducated as you feared femininity.” 

“So I should ask you the same question, Miss: have you no shame? Telling a small child he’s disgusting because we wanted to wear something that made him happy and comfortable. Is he hurting you?” 

The woman’s lips fall to an ‘o’ as she’s at a loss for words, and Kenma relishes in his growing confidence, bending down to Yuki to pick him up and rest him onto his hip. 

“You have no right to talk to my child that way.” Kenma clears his throat, taking a step back as he maintains eye contact with all the parents at sight. “Let me make this very clear: should you feel the need to take my place as his guardian and try to speak for me, I suggest you don’t.” 

Kenma let’s his words linger in the air and begins to walk away, Kuroo slipping through the sea of parents to walk alongside him. 

A smirk slips across his lips, looking down to Yuki clinging his around Kenma’s neck. 

“Wow,” Kuroo breathes, amusement lacing in his tone. “I didn’t think you had it in ya.” 

“Oh my god, I never wanna do that again.” Kenma twitches the cringe out from his body before pressing Yuki closer to him. “I hate talking to people.” 

“But you did a very good job, I’m actually super proud.” 

“Shut up,” Kenma mutters, locking his eyes onto the pavement ahead of him. 

He’s still shocked, unable to believe what had just transpired. He hated the feeling of everyone’s eyes fixed on him, and how quiet it was when he spoke. He hated having to speak up. 

But if had to do it again, he would. 

He’d do it again and again in one breath. 

[naturalbornkillass]

delayed post from 07/10/22 - A weird week: still depressed // might need to get the “hottest girl in rehab” sweatshirt. // modern feminism // why am i attracted to older men i dont even ducking have daddy issues

The last part happened today but i’ll include it into my evenfully unevenful week

i’ve been ridiculously depressed and irritable this week. i havent touched my prescripted medicine and i probably should. i’m in no way getting better.

During the 4th of july, i got into a hugeeee argument with my dad and i ended up staying home and playing roblox w my friends. it was kinda fun, then it all hit me. I’m at home during the 4th of july, doing absolutely nothing. I was bored and depressed. I HAD NOTHING TO DO!! So I ordered some food from grubhub and it made me feel better for a little bit. Then it hit me again. I'm getting fomo. How can i celebrate the 4th. of july? and listen I’m not the most patriotic citizen, and to be honest, i’m not big on independence day. although I am big on the celebrations itself, whether or not i really give a fuck about the reason of the celebration .

i decided to try lsd for the first time, and it was def the most sensational type of high i’ve ever experienced. especially bc it was laced with some other strong ass shit, which i didn't really know until i got tested positive for other stuff. I didn't rly mind tho, i had a good time regardless. My therapist was not happy ofc, so they actually told me that they may have to send me to a 30 day rehabilitation program if things don’t improve within the next week. It’s either that, or I have to stay at a psych ward for 7 days minimum, which isnt as bad, given that it’s so easy to trick them into thinking that you’re doing well within the span of a week. But either way, i’ll be stripped away from any sort of communication with all of you. unless i can memorize all of your number. not tryna do all that.

I'm against it, obviously. I’m functioning! I should be fine.

The reason why i’m not making such a big deal out of this is bc I’m not being too irresponsible with everything. Honestly i really do believe that they’re just trying to profit off of me. No one really knows what to do in those places. None of the staff members really know what they were getting themselves into. If you’re there for the money, why cant you at least try to put some effort on the shit tht you were supposed to do?

if i do end up in one in the future, best believe i’m pulling up in the corniest fit ever

but fr tho i actually have to start putting some effort because i’m not trying to go to some goddamn facility. I have many plans for this summer and living in a place w a bunch of druggiez isnt my thing. if all fails, i hope to be grouped with cool people.

i met someone on roblox, which i’ve spent a few hours with….at night. it was fun okay, and im not for edating, but this is entertaining for me. i wonder how many ppl he’s groomed online. better yet, i wonder how many people get groomed on roblox??? He’s 21 btw i forgot to mention, and yeah he does sound like it. Thats all i can say tho.

The thing is, you’ll never know if your the groomer or the groomee. Edating is so funny to me despite the times that i’ve attempted to do so. I got out of that phase towards the beginning(-ish?) of 9th grade. After that, I’ve just started fishing for some creepy pedos online and i tried to see if i can get money off of them. I found many, but they all wanted my fucking face to be in pictures/videos and they wanted to be able to hear my voice and such, like how desperate can you be? Theyre all really fucking pathetic and it just pissed me off seeing people live like that. Discord users are really something else……..

just dont edate. It's that easy.

One thing that I have noticed is that I kinda have a problem with older men. Why am I writing about this online rather than telling a professional about this? Idk but I just felt like it needs to be talked about. No, I don't have daddy issues, which proves that it's only a common stereotype. Women have such a great amount of power, simply just by existing. Next thing you know, you've hypnotized them into throwing their cash onto you.

[pollenat]

ITZY and A moment of sadness

➛ Trigger warning: angst. The concept resolves around the reader going through a depressive phase and the members’ reactions to it.

Dark and provoking. Somehow, the world feels worse than immortal killers from cult classics. It’s much more relentless in its pursuit after your peace and it’s not even trying.

You wonder, have you always felt this way, or was there a time when the world didn’t seem as bleak as it does at this moment. Everything looks fruitless. What’s the reason for passing days? What about the changing seasons? How does one go on with a reason? The world does nothing and yet chooses that form of an attack on you. It’s effective.

A knock resonates. Jumping in place, because you were drowning in pain, until the sound, like a rope, pulled you towards the surface, the real world of now, you welcome it with a little bit of hesitation. Who? What? Why? Like a sleepwalker, you walk towards hallway, slow, terrified, blue. The anxiety raises, and you wonder whether it’s not too late to turn back. Pretend you’re not home. After all, there is no emergency to take care of, is there?

The knocking resonates once again, a stark contrast to the silence and calmness of your small apartment. It feels dead although you’re the most living creature that could ever inhabit the four walls. Not even a fly to join you. Just you and the terrorizing knocking on the front door.

A breath in, a breath out. You’re not sure about opening the door even when your hand catches the locking mechanism. The crunch of turning metal travels through a crack in your chest, like water does through split glass. There’s a silhouette outside, one that you instantly recognize as...

YEJI

Though you’re sure she will start scolding you any second now, a sigh breaks through the plush of her lips.

“(y/n)-” accompanies a soft smile of comfort.

Yeji isn’t mad, though you think she should be. Any other person would be furious at you for avoiding them. But not Yeji. She understands and offers her presence. Always. So in the end - you’re at fault here. For making her worried, hurting her by avoiding contact and being so thoughtless towards someone who’s still by your side. No matter how many may have left you, Yeji would never do such thing. The thought makes your eyes burn. All you had to do was tell her.

She doesn’t wait for you to speak, or cry your eyes out. Yeji’s arms open and lock you in a tight embrace. As she clings onto you, you’re pushed deeper inside the hallway. The sound of closing front door is just a sound. Yeji smells of familiarity and promise that things will be fine. Eventually. Perhaps, with her around it may seem so. Once she’s gone, the spell will break and you’ll return to the spiral of self-pity. It’s a wonder she hasn’t grown tired of you already.

“I’m here. I’m not going anywhere.” says Yeji. Her tightening embrace seems to be an answer to your similar motion.

Your fingers dig into the common material of her coat. It’s cold from the temperature outside. Her helix, leaning against the side of your head suffers the same fate. You were the reason she had to endure it - the cold. Guilt instantly fuels your imagination. You think of her frozen fingers, shaking teeth, teary eyes and itching skin - all of which you’re the reason for.

“Are you overthinking?” She waits a moment until, lying, you shake your head no. “Don’t ever think that I could be mad at you for being sad.”

Her statement is not just any reassurance. It’s her proving how much she cares about you. So much that she knows you’re on a self-guilt spree. Like always when feeling down.

“How-” You still want to ask, but the pain in your throat seems life-threatening.

Her hold weakens, so she can lean back and look at you properly. The avoidance of her gaze doesn’t discourage Yeji. As little as you want to show, her still smiling lips are pushing themselves into your view. Like magnets, they summon your eyes to appreciate the show. It doesn’t last long enough. She pouts, head nodding at somewhere behind you.

“Shh. I’ll make you something to drink, alright? I bought chocolate and other things. Chose the weirdest snacks I could find in the store-”

Yeji’s hands slip down your arms to lock on your fingers. You’re pulled along to kitchen, the usually irritating light of a lamp you hate, no longer as terrible. Frankly, it’s hard to pay attention to anything other than the young woman in front of you. Yeji is a bright star of good vibrations. Just a look at her and you’re feeling lighter, as if the sadness could be weighed and abandoned. You don’t need the chocolate-sized portion of dopamine. It won’t last, though you don’t plan on completely omitting it.

“Good thing I remembered to buy milk, right?” Yeji’s eyes almost close, unable to fight with her raising cheeks. “What would you do without my grocery shopping sense?”

She’s talkative, putting the day’s history into words. You’re listening, eager to catch onto every syllable, focus on something that’s worth your attention. Chocolates are small and last a single bite. But Yeji? She’s a lifetime of dopamine.

LIA

Before you can recognize the visitor, her hand lands on the door to push it farther. Jisoo has a solemn look on her face. She quickly passes you and closes the entrance, as if she was scared of something awaiting outside. The palms of her hands are flat against the door’s surface. Curtains of dark hair cover her profile, to keep you away from whatever her face may be painting.

You’re trapped in long minutes of uncomfortable silence, filled with thoughts of scary possibilities. Did you do something wrong? Maybe something happened to her? The reminder of many missed calls passes your mind, like an accusatory finger pointing at the main suspect. You want to ask her what’s going on, but words are too difficult to come by.

After what feels like forever, Jisoo turns to look at you. The solemnity falls, so a picture of worry can take its place. She looks as if guilt was chewing her ear off. As if she was the one with a string of bad choices following her.

“Sorry.” Her voice is small. “I was worried you’d- you’d close the door in my face.” A huff of disbelief follows. She seems amused by her own way of thinking.

Unsure how to tackle her behavior, you just nod in understanding. Lips feeling dry, you dare a look around the room you see on a daily basis. Just like you imagine yourself - it’s a picture of pure misery. Slightly embarrassed by the mess, you scramble to collect abandoned belongings. Otherwise Jisoo will surely scold you.

A jacket you had no strength to hide. Shoes you didn’t care for. A jumper you randomly abandoned. In the past they didn’t matter. Now, they’re an irritating distraction.

“What are you doing?” Jisoo catches the jumper’s sleeve.

“Cleaning.”

She clicks her tongue and pulls the material out of your hands. It’s neatly folded and placed on the nearest surface, so you’re no longer bothered by it. But the need to hide it in a closet raises in the place of irritation. You’re staring at the jumper, indifferent to Jisoo’s hard gaze.

“Seriously,” She steps in front of you, taking all of your sight for her. “don’t you think there are more important things than stress-cleaning?” Jisoo’s smile doesn’t reach her eyes.

Embarrassed, you attempt a sigh, but instead of frustration, it’s a sound of a broken heart. Distorted and miserable. Out of what exact reason? Who knows, because surely not you. One moment you were existing, the next one you were feeling guilty for breathing.

Jisoo’s right hand wipes your cheek, probably to get rid of a stray eyelash you haven’t noticed. It’s a kind reminder of the good things, you’d kill to get a hold of. To forget for a moment and focus on something else, other than your mental state. Like the jumper. You want to put it away. Out of sight, out of mind as they say.

“You ignored my texts, calls... Just a single word back would do.” Though you’re the one with dark clouds hanging over your head, Jisoo sounds like she’s in actual pain, all caused by your stubborn silence.

“I’m sorry. I just don- didn’t feel like talking to anyone.”

“And that’s fine. But always let me know you’re around, okay? No talking. Just a yes, or- I don’t know.”

Perhaps it’s the pressure of your terrified gaze. Perhaps the useless silence pushes her into action. Or, perhaps, it’s Jisoo’s own overpowering feelings that make her embrace your middle. She doesn’t look like someone who wants to let go and her tightening grip only proves the assumption. For the first time this eveing, her smile shines with honesty.

RYUJIN

She looks annoyed. The opening of your front door has her head falling back, a deep breath escaping, eyes closing. You watch her chin, somehow relieved it’s her, somehow more scared it’s her.

“I thought-”

Her raspy voice is terror-inducing. Under other circumstances, you’d love catching onto the rougher parts when she reaches the lows. But now? Now you’d rather tune it out so she doesn’t speak more, so she doesn’t get a chance to say something that may cut through your fragile shell.

“I was seriously worried.”

Without any other courses of action left to take, you open the door wider. It’s only polite to allow the guests in and you have no answer to her statement. But Ryujin doesn’t seem ready to step in, or even look at you. She’s facing the hallway’s wall, sorting out emotions that are a total mystery to you. There’s more to her state than serious worry.

“Why didn’t you answer the phone?” Her question isn’t a surprise. It’s a fact you want to push out of your awareness. Phones are scary. Answering questions is scary. Seeing irritated Ryujin is scary.

“Sorry-” You tell her, lost on words.

Her face finally turns towards you which you answer by looking down at your feet. You haven’t noticed how irritated the cold made your skin. White lines of drought cross your blueing skin tone. Toes drum against a dirty doormat.

“Just a text would be enough.” She says in a much softer tone. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

Though eager to, you don’t allow yourself a look at Ryujin. Who knows how much more heart break you can accept, even if the previous reasons weren’t directly caused by you. Is your head you, or is it a different being? These days, it rarely seems to be an ally, more an enemy.

Steps are taken towards you. Ryujin’s heavy boots stand next to your naked feet. You want to step back and let her inside, but hands catch your cheeks before you can move away. Chin is lifted up. You’re staring at Ryujin and she’s staring back. Into your soul, someone could think. But the thing is, you’re aware she must know now. Her sudden softness is enough of a proof. You’re fragile and Ryujin knows how to deal with characters in your state.

“Did something happen?” She comes closer, so now her warmth is shielding you from a draft.

Hesitation holds you silent for few long seconds that Ryujin bravely faces.

“No.”

“So nothing happened?”

“Nothing happened.”

“So you’re sad?”

A bite on your lower lip answers her. Ryujin nods, dropping her eyes. She doesn’t speak for a longer time, until cold wind’s blowing makes you shudder. At that, a guilty smile crosses her fingers and without turning away, Ryujin kicks the door closed.

“We’ll have to do something about that then.”

CHAERYEONG

A picture of pure worry. Chaeryeong looks like a puppy that has done something wrong and now feels guilty. But she did nothing to feel guilty of. You’re sure of that. As always, the fault is all yours. Why would she even choose to care for you? Obviously - aside from the kindness of her heart. And now, in a spot right next to the uselessness, you’re struck with guilt.

She wants to say something, but decides to search your face before speaking. Lips close, then press into a thin line. Her eyes drop down before looking at you again. You’re not sure how to answer her unclearly asked question. There’s no clear explanation to your state.

All wordless, you take a step to the side, allowing her inside. Chaeryeong hesitates only for a moment. She’s such a natural view, you’re weirded out by her being frozen in place, unresponsive to your motion. An invisible switch has to be turned on for the pieces to match. Her steps inside are small, anxious. Remind you of her first time at your flat, back when things were alien. But they’re not anymore. Chaeryeong knows everything about the four walls you inhabit, from the most comfortable spot on your couch, to where you hide socks. She’s seen it all. Your gloomy days are where the blank territory rests. Best couch spot won’t help with that and Chaeryeong knows it.

After closing the front door, you turn around to catch her facing you. Dark eyes hang under wrinkles of a strained forehead. For a moment you forget yourself. Fingers, as if having their own mindset, reach forward to flatten her skin. It’s soft and warm, unlike the rooms you’re closed in.

“Don’t do that, or it will stay that way.” Chaeryeong’s frown deepens for a second, but she smiles. You do as well, though the corners of your lips ache.

Her hand doesn’t swat yours away, like it tends to do with a little bit of a joking undertone. Instead, it weakly grabs your wrist to invite you into a hold. Her bright smile doesn’t falter like yours. Chaeryeong’s face remains an anchor, the last reminder of good feelings you’ve once possessed.

“Can we watch a movie?” Her question takes you by surprise. It’s careful, but also so outside of the range of possible topics, you’re not sure whether to be glad or doubtful.

“I mean- Sure?” The smile widens, though it seemed impossible a moment before.

You’re pulled straight on the couch, with no possibility of standing up in sight. Chaeryeong’s hands circle around your arm, her body coming as close as possible, making you wonder whether she has applied glue in-between your sides.

“Next time,” The TV clicks. “just text me.”

Though you’re basically glued to one another, she doesn’t dare even a stray look in your direction. Chaeryeong’s eyes are focused on the screen. You know she’s not watching the random episode of Family Court.

“Text you what?”

“You know what!”

Your question seems to offend her somehow. One of Chaeryeong’s hands slaps your abdomen, but frown is quick to disappear as she lays a cheek on your arm. Only now you notice the warmth she emits, like a human-shaped heater. Comforting, inviting, overtaking. You cannot resist the magnetic pull. Skin rests on her velvet-like hair. Maybe next time you will find the courage to text her, so the smell of her strawberry shampoo fills your senses and pushes everything wrong out.

YUNA

“Ah, you really couldn’t be bothered to have phone on you? Seriously, who does this now? We’re living in the XXIst century!” Yuna babbles on, eyes staring at you, but not really. She’s so taken by the monologue, your state passes her judgement unnoticed. Knowing her, the speech was in the works her entire way to your apartment. “And to think you usually never let it go out of your hand! But today, you just had to ignore me? What am I to you?”

“Hm?” Her eyes widen, a sign you read as I didn’t meant that last sentence. It was the heat of the moment and, frankly, you don’t care about words today.

Yuna doesn’t continue her rant. Your passiveness is much more interesting to her than the personal feeling of anger. A little dumbfounded, she finally takes her eyes off of you to stare at your front door. She may be lost in thought, but you realize it’s not good to keep the guest waiting outside. Weakly, the door is pushed wide open. Your feet take you back to the couch you occupied earlier.

It takes her a moment to gather thoughts before you hear her stepping inside and closing the door. Then she struggles with the fabrics. You haven’t noticed her current choice of shoes, but you imagine her pulling boots off of her feet. Yuna sighs in discomfort. The noise isn’t meant to be loud. It’s the silent apartment that takes it on a run through every nook and cranny.

A stray pillow occupies your fingers. Yuna walks inside the living room. Her hesitancy is obvious. She may be quiet, but the atmosphere is screaming. Another material is pulled, probably a scarf. Feet pad against naked floor. She stands next to you, staring at where you’re tormenting the poor pillow, before she dares to sit down. Yuna is not good with these things. You know they make her uncomfortable. That’s why you avoided involving her in the first place.

“Are you-” She jumps a little at the volume of her own voice. “Are you feeling alright?”

“I’ll be okay.” Then, so she doesn’t have to wonder, you add “Didn’t mean to worry you.”

“Well-” The paint comes off of the pillowcase’s zipper. “You should worry me with things. You know, when you’re feeling bad and all that- All that stuff.”

There’s an attempt at humor - a huff you don’t understand. Probably meant to portray her powerlessness. You’re aware there’s nothing Yuna hates more than the thought there’s nothing she can do. It’s an energy-consuming parasite that feeds on your anxiety and her inability. So the silence continues, stretched into long minutes. Every time she opens her mouth, nothing comes out of it. Every time you move a little, she jumps in her seat. As if your movement could hurt her.

“Really, you can go home. I’ll deal with- this.”

She doesn’t answer. Not initially After a moment of hesitation and analyzing your features, Yuna dares to scoot over, so your thighs are touching. The lack of sudden movement on your side gives her all the encouragement she needs. Arms are quick to embrace you. Their hold is tight, but maybe not tight enough. The thought isn’t voiced.

“But I don’t want to go home. I want to stay with you. Keep you company. I know I’m not that good with these things, but- I want to be better at it. So just tell me how can I help, or if you don’t want to talk, then I’m fine with not talking too!” Her passionate words land on the back of your neck in a series of rapid breaths. “Just- don’t push me away, alright?”

➛ pollenat’s list of headcanons

➛ pollenat’s list of shorts

➛ pollenat’s list of scenarios