#remind me again why I gave up my diary

[rainingincale]

@maingoes created a tag game, here is the description:

"Topic is covers of books that definitely changed your brain on some sort of minuscule but permanent level or that you think your childhood experience would’ve have been different without (longest title of a tag game ever I know) my only 2 rules are u should have read the book before age 10 and you cannot include the HP series"

Here are my books:

I shall tag @j-purplesunsets-rainydays @jesperfaheygf @cancara @mostlykind @captainjanegay @holdingontozouis and anyone else who sees this and wants to do this! Also pls do not do if you do not wanna ❤️❤️❤️

[sugusearrings]

( 'wings ' )

In the moment, we’re lost and found I just wanna be by your side If these wings could fly for the rest of our lives.

— summary: geto suguru finally snapped and the first person he called was you (fem!reader). — genre: mid-angst. kind of fluff towards the end, sort of? — playing: wings by birdy — note(s): i just watched the scene with elena and damon in vampire diaries (iykyk which scene i'm talking about) and this song was playing. so i had it on repeat then it just reminded me of my man suguru and what if he did call someone. — word count: 1.7k

All you could hear was her heavy breathing. Your heart was pounding so fast against your chest it was making it ache with pain. But you knew couldn’t you stop. If you stopped you would feel your throbbing feet and the aching pain in your chest. You could’ve sworn your destination was getting close.

Is that smoke?

The closer you were getting the strong odor became more intense. This was supposed to be the location. But it was covered by thick black color smoke. Your eyes widened at the horrid scene. Where the village once stood was now ashes. There was no evidence there was no village to begin with. You stopped at the entrance and tried to catch your breath. Your mind was racing as your eyes scanned all over the place.You saw the outline of the houses that were there once. Now gone. Burned.

Please no.

You could feel a lump forming in your throat. What if something happened to him when he came back here? You offered to go with him but he objected. He’s been so distant with you and you couldn’t understand why. You would ask and he would tell you he was okay. But you knew it was a lie. He was bottling everything up and refused to tell you. How could he tell you he was falling apart? Everyone looked at him to keep everything together. He was the glue to everyone.

With your hand on your chest you was going to take a step inside but from the corner of your eye, you saw a familiar figure. You turn so quickly to face it. There he was. Standing there with a child on each side, they were holding onto his larger hand.

“Suguru…”

You called out to him. He snapped out of his thought and looked over to the gentle voice that spoke his name. He couldn’t believe you showed up. He stared at you in disbelief. The bags under his eyes emphasize in the dark.

“Hey…” he greeted back. His usual honey-covered voice that would give you chills, had no emotion this time. You frowned slightly noticing it right away.

“I-I thought…oh my god Suguru.”

You rushed over to him and hugged him tightly. The children took a step back frightened by the stranger.

You grabbed a handful of his white shirt, inhaling his signature musk mixed with the smell of burning ash. He wrapped his arms around you just as tight. He closes his eyes. He could breathe again. He could finally exhale feeling less anxious and less anxiety.

“I’m okay…I want you to meet Nanako and Mimiko. They were from this village.” He looked over at the twins with a gentle smile. “We can trust her, she’s my friend.”

It broke your heart to see the state the little girls were in. They looked beaten and starved. You smiled and kneeled down in front of them.

“Hello Nanako. Hello Mimiko. I like your toy.”

You told Mimiko who held onto a brown stuffed animal. You smiled at Nanako and stroked her hair gently carefully. You didn’t want to touch her bruised cheek. They gave you a small smile. After you helped them get into the car then you turned to Geto.

“What the fuck is going on? What happened to the village?”

You asked once the car door closed. That’s when you noticed he wasn’t wearing his uniform top. It was just his white long sleeve underneath but the sleeves were rolled up half way. His eyes averted from you. He didn’t know where to even start. Can he even trust you? You two have been friends since you both started jujutsu high school. But did that really mean anything when he couldn’t even tell his best friend, Satoru? But Suguru knew you were different from Satoru.

“Suguru. Please. I want to help you.” You begged him.

“I killed them all.”

Even his smooth voice couldn’t stop the cold chill that went down your spine. Your eyes enlarged and you could feel yourself losing color in your face. You would’ve taken a step back but you would lean into the car behind you. You swallowed hard.

“Suguru…” you whispered in disbelief.

“I had too. Look what…what those monkeys did to Mimiko and Nanako! Like they were animals!”

You had never seen Geto lose it before. He was always a very patient and calm boy. Well kept together. Especially dealing with Satoru on the regular. You can’t even recall if you ever heard him raise his voice before.

You remain quiet though.Your hands on your sides but your fingertips brushing against your uniform skirt. “Don’t you get it? Why are we protecting these pathetic monkeys when they do this? Curses are brought because of them! The negative energy! The selfishness! Why should I consume these curses for ignorant monkeys!”

It was good to finally let it out.

His breathing even got heavier.

Your glossy eyes just watched how passionate he was on how much he despised these mon– non sorcerers. Your eyes grazed down at your feet not sure what to say or even feel.

“Why…why did you call me, Geto?” you whispered quietly. Geto barely heard you. He blinked. It was like something took over his mind to call you. Not Gojo. Not Shoko. You.

He cleared his throat.

“You would be the only one who understands me.” He admitted to you. You looked away from his taller frame. You could feel your cheeks slightly burning up. “I trust you.”

“And not Sat–”

“I’m talking about you not him,” he cut you off immediately, “you saw what I saw that day. Only you and I can understand that.”

He was referring to the day Riko. You were with them both as Geto gave her the choice to calm back with you guys. You were smiling as Riko chose to come back with you two and to become a student. It was taken away with a bullet going through her skull. You both watched her lifeless body fall onto the ground. Then the pool of her own blood formed around her.

It still keeps you up at night having nightmares about it. That’s when you would sneak into Suguru’s dorm and sleep in his arms. It was the only way to make it stop, for the both of you.

“I know we been through a lot Suguru but those people –”

“Monkeys.” he corrected you with disgust in his tone.

“There are some innocent people too, Sug.”

“So why didn’t any of those ‘innocent’ people help those children?”

He snapped at you. You bit your lower lip then lowered your eyes again. He wasn’t completely wrong. But maybe they didn’t know the girls were being held in a cage. But you remembered them blaming some children the first time they exorcized the curses here. But he was right. The two of you went to village before to exorcized the curses and they still weren’t grateful? It still wasn’t enough? How can they blame those twin girls?

Suguru stared at you as you were in deep thought. He wondered what you were thinking. Were you going to tell everyone? Would you go tell Satoru? Look at him like he was the monster? He could hear his own heart beat that’s how quiet it was between the two of you. The silence was killing him.

“What do you want me to do, Suguru?”

You whispered. He took a step closer and placed his hand on your chin. He picked your head up so your short frame can look up at him. He could see the faint blush on your cheeks even in the dark.

“Come with me, please.”

He needed you. He couldn’t do this new world without you. He needed you by his side. He couldn’t see himself in this new world without you. Leaving you behind would break his heart but if he had too he would. No one was going to get in the way of his new world. But you was taken aback with his sudden confession. You could feel your cheeks darkening as they began to burn

“Sug…”

“You’re going to deny what we have?”

Your face was flushed by now. You tried to talk to him not to object but to talk about what was seriously happening. But you stammered over your words not making sense at all. The corner of his lips curled up into a slight smile. He let out a dry chuckle then leaned down to give you a soft passionate kiss. You froze up but slowly began to kiss him back.

The kiss was short but meaningful. It was long overdue.

Suguru would make sure to always stand or sit next to you, he would always play with a strand of your hair or your fingertips. You would catch him staring at you and you would just stare back for as long as both of you can.

What should have gave it away was how Geto would be so protective of you. Even on missions, Geto made sure to protect you no matter what. Your friends could see it and would tease you both, especially Gojo and Shoko being your biggest fan.

“What about the others?” You asked. He stroked your cheek with his thumb.

“We have to leave everything and everyone behind.”

It made your stomach twist. It broke your heart to leave everyone behind without a final goodbye. But to start this new life with Suguru, you needed to. You glanced over at the twins already sleeping in the back of the car. You turned back to Geto.

“Let’s go.”

His lips smiled wide as you chose the path to go with him. The right path. You two shared another deep long kiss before you two got into the car. “Take this off.”

He tugged on your uniform top. You blushed deeply as you began to unbutton it. With a simple command he could see your loyalty already. That’s all he ever needed.

Once it was off and you were left in a white short sleeve, he pressed down on the car window to throw it out. He looked at you again and grabbed your hand and brought it to his lips. He kissed your knuckles. That’s when he started the car to drive to start their new life together. The four of them. He placed his hand on your thigh.

You placed your hand over his and gave him a gentle squeeze. You smiled knowing you were following your heart. No matter what, you were going to stand by Suguru’s side and nobody was going to come in between that.

[half-oz-eddie]

Journaling Billy is so personal for me.

Billy with a gratitude journal that he writes in every time something good happens, or someone does something nice for him.

He got the journal from a nurse at the hospital post-starcourt, who thought it would be a nice way for him to pass the time, while also lifting his spirits and helping him realize how much love and kindness is around him, even if he doubts it.

It's just a blue, soft cover bound book, but he humors the nurse because she's got warm, pretty eyes and reminds him of his mom.

He uses it often, even after leaving the hospital.

Steve catches him writing in his journal one day, and Billy tells him it's fine if he reads the gratitude journal but not his diary.

Steve, of course, is dying to see what's in the journal, what Billy considers nice, and what good things have been happening to the love of his life.

Aug 1, 1985 Everyone came to see me. Even those kids Harrington always babysits. That's nice, right?

Aug 5 Harrington brought me some food from some burger joint. It was good. I guess he's nice even though I was kind of a dick to him.

Aug 21 Harrington showed up to drive me home. I don't know why he's being so nice to me. It pisses me off because I think he just feels sorry for me. I'm probably using this journal the wrong way but I don't care. I can't talk to anybody about this. I'm not feeling that grateful for shit today.

Aug 25 Max helped me with my pain medication. I thought she hated me. She acts like everything's fine. I have to admit I’m grateful what happened only stays in my nightmares and I wake up to a different reality.

Aug 29 Harrington called to check on me. Offered to come over and play cards. He doesn't have to keep pretending. I like the company, though.

Sept 10th Max tried to stay home from school to look after me. I'm doing a lot better so I didn't need the help. I still don't understand why everyone's being so nice after what I did. Sept 14th Felt strong enough to go out for some air on my own. Saw Sinclair and that other kid. Think his name's Dustin. They were on their bikes. They waved and asked how I was doing. Told them I was fine and they rode off. Do I deserve their concern? Sept 15th Sinclair came back while I was on the porch. Asked for Max. I told him he couldn't be here because of Neil. We waited for Max a few houses down and talked about basketball. He's trying out for the team so I gave him some advice. It was a nice conversation. Didn't feel forced at all.

Sept 20th I told Lucas I was sorry for what happened that night. He said he'd forgotten all about it. I know the little shit was lying, but I guess he forgives me. That was cool of him.

Sept 29th Lucas made the team and thanked me for the advice. I don't feel like I did anything.

Oct 4th I'm feeling better than ever. Driving around on my own again. Nobody seems to blame me for what I did, and everyone's nice everywhere I go.

Oct 11th Went to see El. She's always kind to me. She's like the little sister I never had. She made me some waffles.

Oct 15th Saw Harrington again. It was warm so we went swimming in his pool. I really missed the water.

Oct 29th Haven't been writing much down. It feels like I'm saying the same things over and over. Everyone's always nice to me. Dad's not bothering me anymore. I feel like I have a lot of support around me. For once I feel safe. Oct 31st Went to a halloween party with Harrington. First time having a beer in months. Got a little too drunk and we kissed. He didn't seem to hate it. I didn't either.

Nov 9th Finally talked to Steve again after the kiss. He asked if I wanted to go steady. I said no at first, then changed my mind. I'm glad I did.

Steve smiled as he read every entry. Every few days, Billy's entries were longer and longer. He talked about things that made him smile, people he met, and how much he appreciated the simplest things. It was an amazing transformation. He continued to read the entries, his eyes widening when he read the most recent one. January 12th 1986 I'm falling in love with Steve. I was hoping he’d say it first but he hasn’t said anything. Maybe I’m too hopeful. He treats me like he loves me too, I think. But I’m not sure. Steve quickly closed the book, feeling like he'd violated Billy's privacy by reading something he hadn't known before. "Why so quiet, Steve? You read yesterday's entry, huh?" "I—yeah. I thought maybe you wrote it in the wrong journal."

"I didn't. I was gonna tell you, I just...I dunno. I didn't want you to think I was trying to move too fast."

Steve laughed. "You have no idea how relieved I am."

Billy narrowed his eyes. "Why?"

"Billy, I've been in love with you for weeks."

Billy snorted. "You're such a sap, pretty boy."

They shared a kiss and Billy wrote in his journal about how grateful he was, to love and be loved.

January 16th On August 21st last year, I was wrong. I have everything to be grateful for.

▪️▫️▪️

A little something to show my gratitude for reaching 400 followers. I appreciate all of you ❤️

Also tagging some friends I’ve met here that really belong in my gratitude journal for all the kindness they’ve shown lately and their posts just make me smile.

@shieldofiron @monsterpegger001 @dragonflylady77 @harringroveera @bigdumbbambieyes @brightside-of-the-upsidedown @thatgirlwithasquid

[cas-kingdom]

For drabble requests can you write

“It’s impossible to get rid of me!” And “Don’t run away from me!”

With House or The Vampire Diaries pretty please?

A/N: I chose House! This drabble features his daughter (who is the reader in the rest of my fics but has been written as my OC due to her age in this one).

Lisa Cuddy let out an oof as a toddler barrelled into her legs. Stumbling a little, she barely had time to note the trademark unruly mop of chocolate curls and the mismatched clothes before the child promptly picked herself up from the floor and pushed herself through Cuddy's legs, rushing off in the opposite direction with manic giggles.

"Don't run away from me!" came a menacing growl next, accompanied by the clatter of a stick. Fully expecting how the next few moments of her life would be spent, Cuddy stood her ground and crossed her arms over her chest. "It's impossible to get rid of me! I'm gonna--oh. Hi."

House stopped abruptly in front of his boss. He plastered a wide grin on his face and leant casually against his stick.

Cuddy took a deep, calming breath. It was most definitely required. "What are you doing?"

"We're playing Monster."

A delicate, patient, raise of her brow. "In a hospital?"

House contorted his face into one of deep thought and turned his eyes towards the ceiling. Theatrical as ever, Cuddy reluctantly gave into his few seconds of performance. When an unabashed "yeah?" was his answer, she rolled her eyes. House clucked his tongue. "We're being quiet."

"Daddy!" The adorable but fierce scream echoed down the corridor. "Come find me!"

Cuddy glared. House shrugged. "I'm being quiet."

"House, why didn't you take a day off if you knew you had Harlow?"

"I wanna show her where I work."

Oh. That was...sweet.

Cuddy mentally chastised herself. Unacceptable, she told herself instead, totally unacceptable.

Still, she uncrossed her arms and visibly softened. "Okay," she said gently, "but you can't let her run around and shout. There are sick people here."

House lifted his stick to wave it matter-of-factly above her head. "I'm a sick person," he reminded her. "And it'll be her workplace soon."

"She's six," Cuddy deadpanned.

"And a half."

"Daddy!" Harlow screamed.

House shrugged once again and Cuddy closed her eyes. Reluctantly, she placed her palms up in surrender and stepped aside, allowing him to hobble past her, on the hunt for his daughter.

"You better run!" he all but growled, and, despite herself, Cuddy smiled.

House Masterpost

[solarflaresdaddyissues]

December 19, 2024 00:50

Ignoring the fact that I turned this part like I’m starting a page in my journal diary, anyone else really pissed about Moon in today’s (well, I suppose yesterday’s at this time) episode?

It might just be me being an older brother myself and instinctually feeling a need to protect certain people in any way, but what Moon said to Solar during their conversation souls not have been okay for Solar. I’m okay that he isn’t mad about it, it’s his choice, I won’t force him to be mad at Moon for being rude, but like…??

“At the end of the day, I am still an Eclipse.”

“Don’t say that. You’re not an Eclipse, you’re a part of this family. And you just saying you’re an Eclipse infuriates me.” Baby, repeat that for me real quick? What?

Not only was that completely uncalled for, Moon, but that was incredibly rude?? What if Solar was still going by Eclipse, would you not want him in the family? I now you don’t like Eclipse, but come on, man, pull it together.

Also, saying that “infuriates” you? If it does make you mad, that’s okay, I’m not telling him to not be mad. He can be mad all he wants. But saying it slightly aggressively? He told Solar never to say that again like it was a threat. And also, are we forgetting about Solar’s track history with Moon’s?

Moon knew Solar before he was Solar, before New Moon, before all that crap. They were borderline friends. There’s no way Moondrop didn’t either meet, see, hear, or hear about Moonfall at some point in time and hear about him and Solar’s relationship.

Moonfall hated Solar with a burning passion even before he accidentally killed Sun. He was rude, he was aggressive, he took Solar’s body and gave him some broken spare to fix up as a new one, he chased Solar OUT OF HIS HOME DIMENSION and threatened to KILL HIM if he came back, then proceeded to try and draw Solar back to that dimension either in peace or PIECES. He wanted to KILL Solar. It was implied heavily that Moonfall was actively HURTING HIM while he lived there. Did no one hear how nervous Solar sounded when Lunar first met him and they heard Moonfall.

And suddenly saying something like simply calling yourself something that was your actually name at a time “infuriates” you must have reminded him a lot of Moonfall, especially with the toning.

Solar’s only other experience with Moons was Nexus, who he was friends with for a long time, but also got aggressive with him (think when Earth went missing after Bloodmoon “killed” her and other times) and then actually turned into “Nexus” instead of “New Moon”, when he threatened him, degraded him, insulted him, threatened to kill him, tried to kill him, and more. Solar does not have a good model on Moon’s as a whole and it’s clear why. This is a rare moment when I’ll believe Dark Sun and Eclipse, at least slightly.

Not all Moons are the same, in my opinion. There’s infinite dimensions, they can’t all act the same. But that’s the base personality for Moons. The majority. Moondrop, Moonfall, Homicide Code Moon, Ruin’s Moon, Eclipsed Moon, swap Moon, Nexus, probably Dark Sun’s Moon even! The only reason that Moonlight seems to act different is because he’s a clashing together of all sorts of different versions of Moon’s. And some of those dimensions were probably complete opposites, which would have cancelled each other out, so we’re left with the scraps of what should make a Moon. That’s what makes Moonlight different than an average Moon.

Eclipse’s naturally seem to have a draw to Suns anyways. Some coincidental, some purposeful, some actually close to their Suns, any way, they’re closer to Suns. Not personality wise, obviously. Or intelligence. But minor ways.

Solar didn’t want to stick around for Sun and Moon’s conversation, but was willing to stick around for Sun.

Eclipse V4 hates Sun and avoids him, but still knows what Sun likes to watch (confirmed in the TADC ep4 reaction) and asked him of all people to help him push the button to bring Solar back.

Eclipse V3 seemed more anxious like Sun and even talked better with him than Moon, despite avoiding Sun mostly for trying to figure out his creator.

Lord Eclipse kept his Sun, and only his Sun (besides his Monty) around as his servant for all eternity, the only person that Lord Eclipse kept around.

Instead of going around to Moons or other Eclipses who might now how to get the information he needed, he went to Dark Sun and from then had some chip implanted in him. He still has that by the way, it’s just dormant, someone should get that before it becomes a problem again.

Eclipses have a natural pull towards Suns and have a decent reason for hating Moons.

Anyways, back to my original point, I don’t blame Moon and he’s reasonable, but I’m slightly mad at him. Solar deserves an apology.

[changes-2043]

My rage to my family

The feeling of emptiness when I hang out with my family is overwhelming. When I'm with my friends, once I reach home, I feel so full and grateful, even if sometimes the interactions are empty. When I'm with my family, I don't feel heard. I feel extremely overwhelmed and tired. Anything they say sounds bad, and from start to finish, everything feels fake—it makes me want to throw up. I feel like I need to raise my hand and wait for my turn to speak, but I don't want to because then my family will say, "Why are you raising your hand? You could have just talked." When I get interrupted and I remind them that they interrupted me, they say, "You always talk." When I don't say anything and keep to myself, everything I do is met with, "Why don't you talk to us?" Afterwards, I feel so drained, but I keep pushing and then they say, "Why are you always whining?" I keep pushing and pushing, and they laugh and make jokes that I don't want to hear. I wish I could be deaf to their words, just as they are deaf to mine.

This is a rage letter.

Dad, why do you think I stay up all night? I don't feel safe in these four walls where you raised me. I can't seem to find peace. My safety is in the night. You are not a bad person; there are worse men than you, but I don't like you anymore.

Mom, why do you think I'm quiet? Because nothing I've ever said was heard. When we fight, I'm always the one breaking down and crying, and you paint me as the victim when in reality, I'm just a child who didn't want to be yelled at. I remember your words while you screamed at me inches from my face, and if this happens again one day, I will punch you with all my heart and soul.

My dear older sister, there is no question for me to answer when it comes to you. But the way you ignore me, yell at me, call me the victim, and act hurt when I say anything mildly true that is out of your control. The way you told me to "teach you to set boundaries" when you got hurt by unpleasant people because you gave your whole heart to them but not to your own blood.

I felt so great when you told me that my best friend looked more like my sister than you did.

When you and Mom made me feel bad because I was eating. You came into my room after i failed an exam and said, "Why do you always act like it didn't hurt you?" My answer to you was, "It does hurt, but what am I going to do? Give up? No, let's go for plan B," because that's how I've always lived. But you've stayed with me through a lot of shit, and I will stay with you through a lot of shit because we will never end up like our father did with his brothers, even though I think this will be inevitable someday.

And I should thank you too because if it weren't for the really good moments you gave me, and without knowing, teaching me how to set my boundaries and adapt to situations, I would not be the amazing and strong person I am today.

I really hope that one day I can stay as far away as possible, getting the care I deserve, the love I deserve, with the people I choose. Because I'm not a little girl anymore; I'm a fully developed person with my own mind and thoughts, and I don't want to be treated like an extension of you or a diary where you scribble, write, and read your problems.

[playmiya]

i need your ushijima bridget jones smau like i need air, hope all is well and best of luck

truly bless u for reminding me that existed you've singlehandedly given me the motivation to post mwah (snippet below descriptions of drinking & smoking, slightly suggestive)

25th December

Alcohol units: 5

Cigarettes: 2

Dear Diary,

Have ended up in the same position as last year. Currently hiding in attic like bum version of Cinderella from mum who is trying to force me into hideous reindeer sweater, but also hiding from guests who will undoubtedly ask me the most singularly annoying question about my love life. Aunty Sato will try to set me up with investment banker relatives from Yokohama, and I will once again be sent on a date where they will make a face when I say I live in Shinjuku. Must not resort to drinking away problems otherwise younger cousins will think am alcoholic—

"[Name]!", your mother exclaims, abomination of red and green tucked under her arm. "There you are."

You drop your diary to the ground, blabbering a silly excuse. Your mother smiles, clearly not listening.

"Anyways, dear, why don't you change into this, hmm? Everyone's waiting for you downstairs, and Aunty Sato's got a great boy in mind for you," she cooes, thrusting the sweater in your hands and walking down the stairs. You stare, slack-jawed at the door, and sigh, unbuttoning your shirt. Another failed Christmas.

Every wintertime, you promise yourself you won't be in this position. Tottering down the stairs in a lumpy sweater, looking forward to filching a cigarette from your dad and consuming your body weight in champagne to numb your ears to the drivel you're going to hear from family from all ends. Drivel surrounding your love life, arguably the worst kind of drivel there is. It would be fine, you sniff to yourself, as you almost trip over a Lego fire truck dropped by one of the younger cousins from your father's side, if I wasn't so single. This is your twenty fifth year rocking up to these parties woefully alone, and with each passing year, you find it more painful to bear your family's take on this very pertinent matter. 

"Thank you," you grin sweetly at a circulating waiter, as you smoothly pick up a flute of champagne and down it in one gulp. A pleasant fizz begins to bubble in your stomach, and as you approach the living room, you inhale to prepare yourself. Cries of your name ring through the air as you force a smile, making eye contact with relatives you haven't seen in a year. Wrinkled smiles greet you back. You hold yourself back from making a sour face, and instead make a beeline for your father, perhaps the only person who understands your pain in this room.

Not one for social gatherings, he's leaning against the staircase and surveying the room impassively with a glass of wine in hand. Ooh, goody, wine, your brain celebrates, and you must remind it of the alcohol tracker in your diary. 

"[Name]!", your father greets with a fond smile, slinging an arm around your shoulder as you pull him in for a bear hug. Living in the city gave you few opportunities to see your parents, save from an odd weekend lunch, and you missed your father sorely. "She's roped you in too?", you groan, feeling the poke of Christmas bells on your arm as you stand next to him, taking a sip of his Rosè. Delicious. 

"Every year," he sighs, and there's a jingling sound as he takes a swig of the wine, courtesy of the many baubles your mother's sewn onto your father's garishly white sweater. You fall into easy conversation with him, updating him about your awful job, your friends and their increasingly responsible and committed relationships and any repairs needed for your apartment. It's only when your stomach grumbles embarrassingly loudly that you consider going and navigating your way to the buffet table with minimal interceptions. 

You're ladling Aunt Kaminari's famous katsu curry into your bowl, when you're sure God personally steps in to teach you a lesson about greed. Reaching for a gluttonous second serving, you feel a large, warm hand on top of yours. You instantly retract your hand, feeling like a ginormous bear just snuck into the buffet when you look up to meet the olive green eyes of possibly the most massive man you've seen in the ugliest Christmas sweater possible. Towering above you, a literal hulk stares deep into your eyes with an unnervingly irritated expression. You very nearly whimper and contemplate falling to your knees and apologising for ever crossing his path til he quirks his head to the side, and the cow wearing a Christmas hat embroidered onto his jumper jingles thanks to the bell on its cap. 

When he speaks, you feel like you're going to fall to your knees for other reasons. A deliciously rich baritone, with the slight twinge of the posh accent of many private boarding-school educated boys fills up the room, but it's surprisingly soft. 

"I'm sorry. I notice you there. Would you like some curry?"

"That's a nice cow!" 

25 December

Alcohol units: 10 

Cigarettes: 5

Dear Diary, 

Currently feeling like I should never speak again and go on the silent meditation retreat to the country side that Kuroo keeps telling me about. Met absolute dreamboat of a man at PARENTS CHRISTMAS PARTY OF ALL PLACES and said "THATS A NICE COW" and RAN AWAY when we touched hands. Mother dearest later rang me to say that he was one of Aunty Sato's newest prospects, a professional volleyball player who just moved to Tokyo and was also rather confused at my behaviour (I don't blame him). Spent the rest of the evening bribing opportunistic cousins to bring wine and entrees to my room (They may have had a couple of sips making those trips. Omg am I encouraging teenage alcoholism??? Anyways, I did that and I turned out fine so all's well that ends well I guess). Left the house after I was sure everyone had fucked off, including Greek God at Curry Station. Did a little bit of stalking and I now know his height, playing number and the fact that his name is Ushijima (* comment was not intentional). God robbing me of my voice in front of gorgeous man is probably my punishment for vomiting at neighbours doorstep yesterday night, isn't it? Feel like killing myself. Ooh, dinner invite from Keiji for drinks tomorrow. Will probably not kill myself anymore. 

[mariacallous]

Seeing the children of Gaza under siege brings all of this back. I have spent my whole life coming to terms with growing up in violence, when I was made to learn that children are fodder for war – “collateral damage”, according to the people who talk endlessly about war on TV. My life has been an endless search for the humanity that my granny believed in till the very end. “How terrified and vengeful are the men who kill children?” she would say quietly, as if asking herself. I hear that question today.

Children bear the brunt of war. Working as a humanitarian on the Syrian border in 2014, I saw injuries caused by the barrel bombs that were dropped on civilians day after day. The barrels were packed with nails, shrapnel and oil. The injuries were horrific. Children were killed by nails that pierced their skull or oil that burned them alive. Between 2011 and 2021, a child was killed or injured every eight hours on average in Syria. In Iraq and Ukraine, cluster bombs dropped by the US and Russia kill children long after they have been dropped or fired. These illegal weapons are designed by people who want the bombs to remain dormant until they are ready to kill again, usually children who pick them up. I now know that there are no monsters in the dark. Only adults who are terrified enough to kill.

The feeling that someone wants you dead never quite goes away. It lives in your body as an alarm reminding you that the world is dangerous and unfriendly. It colours every new interaction – you learn forensic vigilance when entering a new place. The question – will this kill me? – is playing on a loop in your subconscious, only sometimes floating to the surface and shocking you out of your day to day existence.

War has the same impact on children, no matter where they are born. I began to understand this after a beloved teacher whose father was one of the first soldiers to liberate Auschwitz gave me Anne Frank’s diary. I recognised the same dialogue in her thoughts as she hid from the people that wanted her dead. She wondered just as I had about who was inflicting such cruel violence and why. Reading her entries, I lived through her bargaining and her attempt to make sense of a world that didn’t value children’s lives, a world that dehumanised her so that she could be killed.

I founded a charity, Amna, in 2016, to help children recover from the trauma of war. Working with refugee children in Greece, I saw the same terror and confusion that I felt when living through war. I’ll always remember a little Kurdish girl in one of the play groups that I ran at a camp in northern Greece. She was seven or eight years old – the same age as my sister when we fled from Kabul. She was so scared that she had stopped speaking. She was scared of other children. She was scared of the adults in the room. Even when I offered her a toy she would wince and hide behind her mother. She remained speechless for months, until the care she received in group therapy made her feel safe enough to reach for a toy. Still tentative, still scared, she held the soft toy carefully away from her face as if following instructions of her own.

War confuses people, especially the adults who wage them. They get lost in technicalities and self-deception, the desire to be righteous in their pain and victimhood, no matter what the cost. As a child it was so clear to me what needed to be done. I would get angry after each experience of hiding from the shells. I didn’t understand it then, but there was such intelligence in my anger. It didn’t manifest as a desire for revenge or the need to make me or my family into victims who couldn’t recover our life or our humanity. It came out as a resolute demand that played over and over in my 10-year-old head, and has echoed ever since: stop killing children.

‘I remember the silence between the falling shells’: the terror of living under siege as a child

[ninjaturtlecosmo]

So me and @spideyladman have this IF role play going on on Discord, and it features my OC Star, and her relationship with Art Teacher, and one time we both talked about a scenario where Ted (the name we gave the ice cube IF, and he's a huge asshole in the RP, lol) has this hidden stash of naughty magazines hidden somewhere in his room, and he gets scolded by Blossom (who I headcanon to not have a very high opinion on these type of magazines since she was created in either the 50s or 60s) for having these magazines, in a manner similar to that one Diary Of A Wimpy Kid scene where Rodrick got scolded by his mom for having a magazine like that xD

Blossom: And what do you have to say to all the women of the world for having a magazine like this?

Ted:..... I'm sorry, women.

But anyway, when talking about this, we also brought up how Blossom likely discovered this because Art Teacher found one of these magazines, and he was just plain confused on what the fuck he was looking at xD Why? Well, in our RP Art Teacher originally belonged to a young trans girl named Ashley (who is Spidey's OC), and she's 13 during the current setting of our RP, whereas she was 8 when she created Art Teacher.... meaning that in the RP Art Teacher is one of the youngest IFs living among everyone at Memory Lane, and we both joked about how because of that he's probably super innocent about some topics xD However, we're avoiding adding anything too suggestive in our RP, so I'm going to present to you all this skit of how I imagine Star handling this knowledge xDDDDDDDDD

CW: Suggestive scene Incoming

Star:........ Wait..... Art..... You don't get what this magazine is for? *holds up the magazine belonging to Ted that Art Teacher found*

Art Teacher:........ Not really..... Is it to advertise bathing suits? But...... why are they all posing like that?..... And why is one of the models sitting on a motorcycle in one of the pictures?......... Why does one of them have bunny ears on?

Star:........................*takes in a deep breath to mentally process what's happening right now*

Later at the bar

Star:*having some drinks with Gummy and Blossom*........

Blossom: Star, why does this bother you so much? So he's never looked at nude magazines, I honestly think that's a good thing.

Star: You're old enough to be a grandma, Blossom, of course you'd think that. You boomers freak out at anything if titties or "tallywackers" as you brits call it are shown.

Blossom:................. I had one midlife crisis last year before you got here, do not make me have another one.

Gummy: Seriously, why does it bother you so much?

Star:...... Because it's another reminder of how much older I am than him, for one. I was created in 1990, and Art....... Ashley was 8 when she made him, so he was made in 2018, and....... Ugh...... I don't know...... lately some of the others have been calling out the so called "age gap" between us and it's driving me nuts...... Even Robot called me a cougar the other day...... But..... well, at the end of the day, all of us IFs are still technically adults..... and what adult looks at a fucking playboy magazine and thinks it's for advertising swimsuits?????

Gummy:..... Everyone's different, Star..... He probably wasn't exposed to that kind of stuff before he got here. I mean.... when you were both together in Dekalb, did you..... well, you know, try to take things to a certain level with him?

Star:..... Well.... one time, yeah, but...... Well, he wasn't comfortable at the time since we had only been dating for a few months, and he immediately said no. I guess I never tried initiating that sort of thing again cause I wanted to wait and let him decide he was ready...... and now it's 3 years later since Rachel and I left his and Ashley's neighborhood, and I find out he's never been exposed to a playboy magazine before.

Blossom:....... This may sound shocking coming from a so called "boomer" like me, but believe it or not, some people just don't care for sex. Did you ever think of that?

Gummy: Well, we don't know that....... I mean..... it has been 3 years, and you're still both working on rekindling your relationship. Why not talk to him, or..... well...... hey, sometimes a grand gesture of seduction can do something..... why not try that, see what happens?

Blossom:....... Gummy no--

Star:*immediately widens her eyes as an idea comes to mind, a grin forming on her face*

Later that night

Art Teacher:*sees rose petals leading from his art class to his and Star's bedroom*....... Why are these petals here?..... (thinks: Oh god.... Star, what have you done now? )...... *slowly follows the petals before reaching his door, taking the know and pushing it open*

*He turns on the lights in the room, and is immediately presented with Star laying on her stomach in a suggestive pose while giving him a seductive look on her face, wearing a short silk dress. Petals cover the whole floor while candles are alit around them to fill the air with a sweet aroma, and the record player is on as it plays "Love" by Kendrick Lamar*

Star, talking in a soft sultry tone as if she was trying to mimic Jennifer Tilly: Well hey there, Art.... I wondered when you'd get here. I almost thought you wouldn't show up~

Art Teacher:*eyes are widened in confusion as he looks around the room, a bright blush covering his face*....... Star.... what is all this?

Star: What do you mean? *slowly gets up from the bed and approaches him, trying to pump out her chest as her gown is exposing her cleavage* I just put this all together cause.... well, all the hard work you've been doing with your art lately, I just wanted to do something special for us tonight~ What do you think? You like it?

Art Teacher: S- Star, this is......! *backs away a little, overwhelmed by all of this* Its...... if you wanted a date night, I think this is all a bit much.....!

Star:*reaches behind him to close the door, so it's just them* Is it? Or maybe it's just because we've never done anything like this before~ Hey..... You know how I've always tried opening you up to new experiences, right? How sometimes we've just gotta get out of our comfort zones and just live a little?

Art Teacher:*eyes widen more, at this point backing away more* I- I get that, I do......! It's just..... I don't really think right now is--

*As they're both so distracted by the other, they don't notice as one of them ends up knocking over one of the candles on accident with their foot, setting the carpet floor ablaze*

Star: !!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! SHIT!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

Art Teacher: !!!!!!!!!!!! *screams in terror as the room starts to be engulfed in flames*

*Cue to later when they get help from a couple of firefighter themed IFs, the both of them finishing putting out the fire in the room before it could get any worse, while Art Teacher and Star stand outside to watch along with other IFs who heard the commotion, Star looking embarrassed while still in her silk gown, while Art Teacher stands there, clearly aggravated by the whole ordeal*

Firefighter 1: Well, the fire is out now. But it'll need a few days for everything that was burned to get fixed or replaced, so, you two will need to sleep somewhere else for a while.

Star:.......*smiles nervously at Art Teacher* You want to sleep in the music room?

Art Teacher:....... Sleep, and only sleep. I'm not having sex with you. Not because I don't love you, but because I don't want sex tonight. Got it?

Star: Yeah.... Yeah, I got it. Sorry..... Won't happen again......

[radioactiveswampmonsters]

So I started HRT

I can't believe that's a sentence I get to type?? Going on T always felt like a crazy distant thing to me that I would never get or would be in the distant future (but the distant future was like always still further off forever, there was no getting closer to when the future would be).

Anyway, for my own sake, I think I wanna do like.. a little diary thing? Just something to look back on in the future, see all the progress and everything.

So this really started last Monday. I had a dream that I was going to Planned Parenthood to start HRT, but I got turned away cause they weren't doing that anymore. They gave me places that still were, but I felt embarrassed and discouraged and I didn't take it, and when I woke up, I was... a lot more upset about all that than I think I reasonably should have been. I've had dreams before of like medically transitioning, or like going to appointments and stuff like that so idk why this was different, but it was I guess! Different enough that that, plus I guess a combination of it was already a busy day and I was mad at work, I very spur of the moment just made an appointment to go that Thursday. And finally do it.

Zab was the first person I told like immediately after I booked it and got the confirmation that it was booked, cause of course I had to and their reaction was wonderful, they're my rock honestly through so many things and I'm grateful for them always.

Laz, I told that night and their reaction was also just... I don't think I'll ever forget it, I love them very much and that moment is something I think I'm gonna hold in my heart forever.

I can't stop thinking of Zab telling me repeatedly that they're proud of me, and Laz repeatedly saying finally!!

I love my friends so much.

I think part of what makes this so surreal and strange is like... this was so easy? Like there was no special occasion anything with it, this is just. It's Thursday. It's just a normal Thursday! Like it's not now, February 8th is huge now, but like wow what the fuck. Like I waited til my birthday last year to get my ears pierced cause that was like An Occasion, and something special to do, but this like... it's not revolving around anything! I could just go on my phone and make an appointment with planned parenthood immediately and i did!! It's just another Thursday!! idk something something making special or beauty in the mundane idk I have an appointment thursday that's gonna change my life and it's just another thursday

I keep having butterflies in my stomach throughout the week. Like I'll being going about my day, then I remember, or I get an appointment reminder (by the time it got to thursday there were three and it made me smile so big every time), and I get butterflies and it feels all so surreal again. I think part of me expects that I'll get there and it won't be real? Or they'll maybe turn me away?? I know they won't but I dunno. I've also always been like this though, I've moved so much, and everything is normal and business and usual and then I move and it's still fine and I'm going through the motions then it's not til like I'm THERE that it's like oh fuck I live somewhere else entirely else now. I moved three years ago, and still there's times when I go into my apartment and i'm hit with like a moment of Awareness i guess and I'm suddenly like holy shit I live here. I'm fully responsible for myself and this place, this is My Home. I don't live with my parents anymore, this is me. I make Decisions. So y'know. It's fine

I got asked to take an extra shift at work, thursday is normally the start of my weekend, and I said no I have a doctor's appointment (and that was so fun to say for once and remember hehehe this is happening and it's TOMORROW) and anyway I eventually relented to taking a morning shift - I stressed so many times i had to be out by 11. I know eventually I'll have to tell them what's going on cause like the changes will be Perceived, but also for now I'm enjoying the little secret inside joke with myself

IT'S THURSDAY. IT'S TODAY. It's also an ungodly time, 5 fucking am, it was a mistake to take an extra morning shift. Money good, but I am so very tired and evil. At least it was quiet/normal amounts of busy. And I got out before the lunch rush so I'll take it. There's still so much day ahead of me, it's only 11 am, i have 3 hours til my appointment and I'm Being Very Normal. I also have new glasses now that I think make look kinda like a cartoon character, but it's fun

I'm the most colorfully dressed person here at the planned parenthood. I planned my outfit out so much cause it's like the whole meme of wearing a suit to whatever, except it's my favorite rainbow overalls and I feel like I;m a bit a parody of myself, but also like... idk man it feels right. It's also warm enough I can finally wear flip flops so wins all around

my nurse tech had meow wolf pins on her lanyard which was awesome, im taking this as another sign - one was even the one i had from going to the real unreal opening. they had to stick me twice to draw my blood cause my left arm wouldn't cooperate, but needles i guess just dont bother me as much as they used to which is something im actually really grateful for! idk when that changed or how or why, but im glad i can at least get stuck without having like a full panic or meltdown anymore! ^^^ that's gonna be real helpful, being chill about needles, since I have A REAL PRESCRIPTION NOW HOLY FUCK

i was giving zab updates the whole time and they asked me when my injection appointment was (again i love zab so much, they've been cheering me on this whole time, like that's not a SHOCK, but still oh my god idk what i did to deserve them), and I said i dont think i have one?? my appointment was actually pretty fast and easy - it was a lot of disclaimers and new patient info stuff, but yeah like they just gave me my prescription and a guide on how to inject yourself and said yeah you can go as soon as you pick it up, go at it! and zab described that was ah they're just letting you rawdog that and i thought that was really funny lmao

something about seeing an actual doctor note that says ON PAPER (or app, but whatever it's all doctor's notes) that i have dysphoria is weirdly huge for me?? i dunno why that warmed me, but that had me feeling a way like this isn't just me, this is Real also screaming singing the trans lyrics in mama from mcr after your first hrt appointment is a fun experience 10/10 recommend lol

MY PRESCRIPTION IS READY!!! the place said it wouldn't be til friday after 4, BUT NO! IT'S A WHOLE FOUR HOURS EARLY I HAVE TESTOSTERONE!!!!!!

Fae also now knows cause we were supposed to do our taxes together (like tradition) and I was already late to our video call cause I was picking up MY PRESCRIPTIOOOOON and i didn't wanna keep them waiting anymore so i said fuck it you wanna know a secret? im on t, im doing my t shot now. let's go brother, you and me. (their reaction was also wonderful, i love them very much) the t shot itself was actually fine??? zab had said it wasn't too bad actually, but i was still kinda anxious and worried, but they were right it didn't actually even hurt. i did fuck it up a little tho lmaoooo (jumping to the end, some of it?? came out of it when i pulled the needle out?? so oops on that) but the biggest fuck up was i got the fucking 22 gauge fucking needle stuck on the syringe when i was drawing it into the syringe 🙃🙃i freaked out cause i couldn't get it off, fae was trying to help by looking up what to do, and anyway that's how i also came out that i started hrt to all my local in town friends cause i said hey i fucked up can someone who is strong get it off for me or at least lend me some pliers???? (the good news was a bit after that i did also get it off myself, and the smaller needle came off easy too so it's FINE i think i know what i did wrong, but oh my god this was a roller coaster for baby's first shot oh my GOD)

APPARENTLY I ALSO ACCIDENTALLY CAME OUT TO ZEYDA TOO CAUSE I FORGOT ZEYDA WAS ALSO IN GRIMM'S CHAT FUCK ME it;s...... fine.... i had plans to do it personally over call, zeyda is very cool and kind, but i feel kinda bad now

it is saturday and i feel like i've been hit with a truck. that ?? was a great night of sleep, like i don't sleep well in general, but i slept super great last night, but OH MAN.... do i feel soooo fucking tired and foggy headed. like i feel floaty...? but also weirdly like i have energy in my joints. my joints are jelly and i could walk, but im also so sleepy and cant focus or think like at all? i tried playing some sims, but even that i couldn't do for super long, i am mush

i told my parents about this as well, and that's maybe been the only disappointment so far. their reaction wasn't BAD, but idk i guess i was expecting more? it's fine, my mom and i talked after so like it's genuinely not a problem, but yeah i dunno. just wanted more initial excitement from them too i guess. i had dinner with friends, food helped a little with the whole no energy thing oops of course, but in general it was just nice seeing them

i just keep feeling so heavy and tired. and like i have a headache? but it doesn't like, hurt, it's just like. pressure. like i have a head and i sure can feel it. i know this is normal, im not worried, but it sure is here! im not upset about it tho, it's like oh wow it's tired forever cause im hormones now!!! wow!!! ahhhhh!!!!

it's monday and i feel like i have brain again lol im still tired, but i feel a bit more leveled at least, somewhat more normal. Something I've noticed is my knee isn't having as many problems??? like i can stand and walk and im having less pain in it which is pretty cool

i told the rest of my friends now, and im glad for it, i dont wanna keep dancing around this, i like sharing and wanna yell about all of this! especially with them, i love them all so dearly after i told everyone (after break for waystation, shout out to waystation my beloved) diego told me to watch out for gundams. he basically said boys be shopping and gundams are a siren call for all men so beware. I feel like I'm on cloud 9

tuesday! four days after my first shot. something i've noticed is, at least so far, i've been less angry? work, particularly when it gets busy like it always does, i used to always be quick to getting so annoyed and mad cause i was just so overwhelmed with how busy it was. and like monday, it actually wasn't as busy a day. today it was normal levels of work and everything, and like sure i was still getting annoyed, especially cause like always i just take more calls than others and i KNOW i do, but like... it didn't feel as strong? i was still getting annoyed, but not getting so heated. it felt duller, less heavy than usual. idk if that's just a symptom of having no energy in general or the t itself, but i hope this stays. not being so angry at work everyday would be really nice. i like feeling like i don't have to maybe prepare for having yet another breakdown at work and also some of the annoyance was on me - i started listening to the night circus audiobook today and shock and awe i got annoyed that work was interrupting my book when i was at work - but i mean, even when i was just sitting there, not listening to my book, getting back to back calls... like i handled it a lot better than i usually do. i know it's too early to tell, but seriously can't stress enough how much i hope this is a real actual change, just t leveling out my emotions and mood too please

[gevauxie]

I had a Russian Doll toy when I was young.

Tom's diary was laid out on the bare prison desk before him. His ink was running low. He sucked at the nib of the quill, ignoring its bitter taste, using his tongue to wet the end. Once it was running freely again, he lowered it back down. He carried on scratching away.

...The doll was a gift. A hand-me-down, from some crazed Victorian benefactor who visited the orphanage once every other blue moon. She was an older woman; all fur coat and stiff upper lip, the kind that quite clearly had no time for children, and did her best to avoid them where she could. God knows why she donated to the crumbling monolith that was the Wool’s Institute for Impoverished Boys and Girls. Perhaps it made her look good to her high society friends. Perhaps it gave her something to boast about over dinner.

Regardless, she came to visit every now and then. We always knew she was coming because we were all forced to bathe the night before, and matron would come round with a nit-comb and an old tin box of talc. We’d have our hair scraped back and our shirt collars ironed out. Everything was packed and put away, and after breakfast we were made to stand in a long, straggly line by the front door.

The benefactor rang the doorbell. Nobody rang the doorbell. They either knocked on the knocker or they didn’t come at all.

She always hobbled in, clanking like the rusted screws on the side of a radiator. Her nose was hooked, her warts visible; my first encounter with what I thought was an old wicked witch. The classic bogeyman of children’s fairy stories – but a far cry from the real thing, I had come to realise.

She strode forwards, inspecting each of us in turn. We stood in alphabetical order, so as a member of the ‘R’s, I was toward the back of the queue. But she always paused when she got to me. Her black-toed heels came to a determined stop, and she peered down, meeting my eye.

She liked me. She always had. I couldn’t really put my finger on why; perhaps it was because she saw in me something that reminded her of herself. She saw the fire behind my gaze, no matter how forcefully I tried to smother it; she saw the flash of defiance, and the refusal to sit down and accept my lot. She looked at me and saw a fighter, a savage who would do anything – and everything – to achieve whatever it was that they wanted. I had a feral animal somewhere inside of me. At that age, I just needed to learn how to tame it.

The benefactor bent down, with what looked like great effort. She leant heavy on her cane and her knees popped. She produced the little doll from the inside of her fur coat pocket.

"Look at this," she said. "And tell me what you see."

I had looked at it. I had looked at its squat painted head, and at the delicate red and blue flowers that made up the pattern of its dress. I had taken it from her outstretched hand and had turned it over between both of my own. I remember the wooden curves of its surface being smooth.

"It’s fat," I said. "Fat and ugly."

The benefactor had sighed with impatience.

"Yes. But what else?"

I looked. I floundered. I shrugged at her.

"I don’t know."

She pointed a finger at the doll’s dark, heavy-lidded eyes.

"See, there? You think she’s looking at you. But really, she’s looking inward."

I had no idea what she meant. I tried turning the doll around, so that it caught the light. Nothing stood out to me.

"You might not realise it, but she has multiple faces," the benefactor said. "A woman can be tricky, like that. And sometimes men too."

Still, I saw nothing. I turned the doll back and forth.

"How does she hide them?" I asked. "Her faces?"

"By lying."

I had wrinkled my nose, disbelieving. I knew all about lying. I used it and I abused it, though I admit now that I hadn’t been very good. Not yet, at least. For example – I had no concept, back then, of lying to oneself, in order to protect the id from harm. I had no concept of wearing a ruse in order to go undercover, or of convincing oneself of an entirely different personality, for the sake of successful espionage.

"Lying?" I asked her, pretending I had never heard the word.

The benefactor smiled a rare smile. Her one good eye twinkled, knowing.

"Yes, boy. The doll works by wrapping itself within a lie – and then another, and another. All to hide a greater lie, underneath."

I turned the doll over between my fingers. "How?"

She reached out her long, bony hand to lift the doll back up from me. She twisted it and pulled off its egg-shaped head. Inside, another head appeared, slightly smaller than the last.

I remember that I had gasped. To me, the edges of her body had seemed so smooth. I’d had no idea there was an opening.

The benefactor didn’t stop there. She pulled off another head, and then another, going deeper and deeper until she reached the centre of the doll. She handed me the pieces, and I collected what I could between my little palms.

She never asked for them back, so one by one, I had slipped them into my trouser pockets. I could feel the other children’s eyes burning into my side, lime-green from jealousy.

"You can’t trust people, Tom." Before me, the benefactor heaved herself back upward, moving with more popping sounds and a dangerously straining wheeze. Her cane wobbled as she leant on it. "Now, let that be a lesson to you."

A few years later, I was offered my place at Hogwarts’ School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. I forgot all about the old Victorian benefactor – and all about the toy she had bequeathed me, and the message she had tried to send. I thought I was better than her. I thought I was better than everyone, and I didn’t need anyone else’s sage advice, thankyou very much.

So, really, it’s my own damn fault that I’m in the situation I’m in.

______

Chapter 12, 'Matryoshka', from WIP Tomione fic 'Kiss Me Before You Go'. The rest of the fic is available to read on AO3:

[capricornrisingsstuff]

So I’ve taken a prompt from @lovebugism ‘s summer sleepover as it looks like fun! I hope they don’t mind me being totally self indulgent with this one.

Prompt: “what can I get you? Do you need water? A hug? Space?”

Contains: Eddie being a total softie, reader is female and is a burnt out workaholic. Fluff, pet names. Lmk if I’ve missed anything!

Your phone buzzes for what feels like the millionth time in your back pocket, as you push the door to the kitchen open with your denim jean clad ass. “Why can people not leave me alone, they know I’m working”, you mutter to yourself as you scrape your own plates into the trash, along with the dishes just haphazardly left by your coworkers.

Standing in the kitchen to the coffee shop amongst the chaos you look at your phone and wince. You can barely see your lock screen background (a picture of the castle in Disney World- a reminder that your hard work pays for you to do the things you love); the screen was littered with notifications from the top to the bottom. Scanning through them all, you sighed. A Teams meeting you need to respond to, your Outlook inbox showing 13 unread emails, WhatsApp, Snapchat, Instagram, Facebook messenger. All direct messages about the three jobs you’re juggling to try and get your PhD. Just as you were about to put your phone away, it buzzed again, a double vibration announcing a iMessage. “It’ll be saved for later” you thought as your boss called you to serve at the to go hatch.

Turning from the abrupt customer who didn’t even say hello to you “three grande lattes, sugar free vanilla, decaf” was your greeting; you stared aimlessly into the drops of espresso as you mentally highlighted and crossed off your diary. Breaking you out of your daze was your Apple Watch, lighting up with a name that gave you butterflies. “Eddie “Edward” Munson” the screen flashed. You manoeuvred your fingers to open the message on your watch, trying to suppress the grin the name on the screen gave you. “Hey Mrs workaholic, I was wondering if you wanted to hang soon? If you can fit me in your diary?” Eddie was a sweetheart. He was someone from your life from years ago who regularly kept up with your Instagram stories. Always replying to them and checking to see how you are. You’d just never had the time to indulge yourself with the boy.

A crash of plates and string of expletives broke you out of your lavender haze; the sound of the crash sending you into a little spiral of anxiety. You hastily gave out the drinks order you were working on and ran to the back, intending on clearing up the mess through the tears that were starting to line your eyes. You went to the walk in and pulled out your phone, hastily jabbing at you the contact. “Hey sweetheart, what do I owe this pleasure?” Eddie playfully greeted on the other side of the phone. “Eddie” you choked. “What’s wrong babe? Are you okay?” Eddie’s tone turned serious in a flash as you breathed back some sobs threatening to fall “I just need a break Eddie. I’m so burnt out, I don’t know what to do”, you admitted. You never admitted it but he seemed like your safe space. “What do you need princess? A hug? Water? Space? Say it and I’ll deliver it”. You let out a watery laugh as he ran through the list. “I think I need all of those Eddie, but…from you? Please? Sorry I know we haven’t met up much but I just feel like I can talk to you.” Eddie was glad you couldn’t see his Cheshire Cat grin on the other side of the phone. “My lady, I shall be your unofficial Uber delivery driver in his shining rust bucket of a van. Hugs and water are on their way. I don’t know if I can offer the space though once I hold you…” you swooned at his words, playing with the strings of your apron. “Don’t worry Eddie, space is off the menu from you” “glad to hear it princess. Your Uber driver is 8 minutes away”. No amount of decaf grade sugar free vanilla lattes would get in the way of the hold this sweet boy had on you.

[romangoldendreams]

my only truth,that´s what nobody can see.

It's not a diary, it's…I don't know what to call it. In my profession, any note is nothing more than that, a reminder that you have to do something.

All those idiots out there who think they know my misery have no idea.

Yes, I will never walk with one arm tied behind my back. But they don't understand anything at all. They think they know me, and they take thousands of photos of me a day, but the more images of me they have, the more they lose their sense of reality.

Because reality wouldn't sell, because the bitter truth is that whoever they call my true love is not.

Because love is no more real than we would like to believe.

They just wonder if I sleep with men, or with women, that's the only thing they think about. At least they don't hide it…I hear them, and I don't answer them. why do it?

It doesn't make sense, because whatever I say will be what they believe.

They ask me about her , Pier… they call her the love of my life, I'm bitter without her.

According to them, my last name is not Dean but Montesco, and she is Anna Maria Pierangeli, but Pierangeli Capulet.

She only gives them the head for that… and nothing will change this fact, even if I die tomorrow.

Isa tells me to shut up, to let it happen. But damn! Even when?

I am nothing they say, I am just myself living my life.

I'm so drowning in pain because Pier abandoned me that I can't even breathe, I have Marlon Brando waiting for me in my bed every night, I watch the Vampyra show, that crazy girl whose name I don't even remember or when I met her… I even that I met Miss. Monroe, the most beautiful woman in America…they make up so many things that I don't even have time to laugh or cry.

When they send me those shitty magazines I just burn them.

Yes, with my cigarette, by myself, in my underwear.

I'm sorry, Marlon. Tonight it happened, you won´t be my lover anymore, gosh, this cup of milk is shit. again, i will come back.

My true love…that's what all teenage girls want to know.

Well, love is nothing more than friendship. It's being at home, it's feeling like someone is listening to you, without stopping to see if they have a vagina or penis.

I know lust, I know sex.

But that tickling that has entered me from my back to my heart, and that made me spend all day with my friend, and on occasions, embarrassing more than regrettable, sticking my body to hers so that it was more than a simple friendship …what is that? I only know that I felt it, and that I was happy with what she gave me.

They say I met true love with a girl who ran off with someone else. And that my heart cried tears of blood, that I was there on her wedding day with my motorcycle.

I have been?

Oh shit. Maybe yes.

But I only know that I suffered with her. My true love broke my heart they say, but more than anything my dignity, but not with my friend.

With my friend I was happy every moment of my life. Because for hours at work, and even outside of it, she was there for me. She never got tired of waiting for me.

She was more than just a friend, she was a mother…maybe she was a lover. I close my eyes and I can imagine it.

I only know that I look into her eyes and I drown, I drown… I have no desire to touch even a hair on her head, and I am already his.

My friend, shit. I love you because you love me, and not even I can write here what I feel about our friendship.

Only without her i would have been dead a long time ago.

Damn I'm not good with words, I never have been.

But you fill me with joy. It is the plenitude that you have given me. I don't care if it's love or friendship. I know what I need, and what you give me.

Jimmy….tells me oh, how she does it!

Jimmy boy tells me when we are… well when she has me naked next to her.

Everyone talks about me. But for once I do it.

When we left each other's cigarettes after filming today, I knew we were going to do it. The ballet.

That we would commit the madness of our exercises.

I've only seen her naked once. But I didn't need more.

Because I haven't had a happy moment with my friend, they all are, that's why I know they are golden. That all of the above is nothing more than a shadow or something like that. I don't know how to say it to make it elegant. I'm not a writer.

She gave me her words, her conversation, she listened to my confessions, she gave me all her support knowing that I am what I am. Just a miserable wretch who does what he really wants. A great painter, a frustated pianist.

Yes, I have a lot of money, I told her

"Oh Jimmy boy and I have more than you," she told me, "you're a bastard when you talk about money, but i love when you speak about your matador skills."

Together we laughed, all our conversations sounds like that. My friend lets me go back to childhood. She takes care of me and gives me ideas, she plays with me.

​she invites me to all the places where she´s with her husband and kids. she does not care if i bother them, and i don´t care at all neither, because i´m not there for her family, but for her.

If only they wanted to know everything about me…they would only have to see me with my friend.

And they look at us, over and over again but they don't realize anything.

Shit, being an actor is like stopping being you.

They know everything about your character in the movie and your supposed self, but not about yourself in truth.

My friend warned me. And I believed her.

I'm not talking about Brando anymore. I no longer compare myself to another.

"You're magnificent Jimmy," my friend tells me, "if you believed me, you wouldn't worry, it would just be you."

We talked about everything, the other day we talked about the universe.

I brought a telescope to the set and at night we saw the stars. Everything is so desert…and we gave them names, insults and demons.

We dedicate them to those scavengers who call me Romeo.

Blind, blind, blind.

My friend and I synchronized.

I wait for her in her sleep, and when I sleep, she waits for me.

I never had this with anyone. Not even with my parents. Only when my mother let me sleep in the tent, but she only looked out to see me in the garden, I, afraid, ran to the house.

My mother laughed, but not like my friend.

My friend tells me that I am everything to my father too, I believe her, because when I hear her voice I can't escape it, I can only say yes.

Before meeting her I didn't know what friendship really was, nor what true love meant.

Let those stupid people say, let them write.

Love is nothing more than being at home, with your only family, and your home can be where that person who has proven to give you everything you need is.

Mine was the set of "Giant" with our creepy director. Damned.

But I respect him because she asked me to.

I apologized, I would do anything for her.

My only consolation, I don't believe in God, but I would pray for her to always be there for me. And I know she will be.

That if something separated us we would see each other again. Because I was born to be her friend, I was born so that she loves me in the way she prefers, in the way she can…

Nothing can make me give my friendship again to another woman as I did with her, or to any man. Not even my love wrapped in that friendship, damn it, love is nothing more than a sick man wrapped in the blankets of her bed.

In the friendship.

i knew about human feeling with her. and when i say all, i mean ALL. NOT ONE left without be touched for us.

She´s inside me, she´s me. Damn, even i keep her things now, a lipstick, her cigarettes,and more, she will kill me.

Your company, your company…I fear death. I was once banned from having racing cars and motorcycles for fear of losing their fucking million dollars, but if she knew herself… that I'm more afraid of dying for losing her friendship than for money or going to hell. .

I love you, my friend. But you know it. You know everything about me. Inside and out.

Even if i am the Romeo of a bitch with no personality.

Your Jimmy Boy (1955)

[themuffin2649]

A Reminder

The MC clone finds a Diary of his caretaker, and reads on how he’s been dealing with things lately.

TW: Leon Angst

—————

I don’t remember a day where you haven’t been my world, my guarding angel, my saving grace. You promised you would never leave me, that we’ll always be together.

But that was a lie, because you’re gone forever.

I couldn’t imagine living in a world without you, but before I knew it, it became a reality.

The world wasn’t the same without you, it had been broken, battered, and beaten like the gaping hole in my heart.

An in the pain, I was blinded, so without a second thought, I jumped into the opportunity to get you back, to save the both of us.

Not knowing I could have jumped to my demise.

But then, I saw you, but he wasn’t you.

He’ll never be you

He was just a reminder of what I lost, what I wanted back most in the world. At it fueled me with a rage from a lifetime ago.

I wanted to destroy the world for its mockery, why Why! WHY did you take away what I loved most too soon, then rub it in my face?!!

At that moment, I wished to break every bone in his body, to twist every ounce of flesh until he no longer resembled what I lost, to rid the mockery.

But then I saw the blood, the deaths, the experiments, and his face covered in tears from the God-forsaken horrors.

When I looked at his face, I not only saw myself when I lost you, but your face when I hurt you, when I got carried away.

He went through things I can’t imagine, he saw the only people he’s known in his short life die before his every eyes, not knowing if he’ll make it to tomorrow.

And yet, somehow, we’re both still here. It still hurts to look at him, to look at you.

But if I don’t face the pain now, if I run away from it, it’ll eventually catch up like a tsunami and drown me.

It’s been a 2 weeks since he was freed, and a month since I lost you, and although I wanted not to, to say no and take the easy way out, I took him in and gave him a home.

He’ll never be you, but I can’t abandon him, because like me, he also lost everything.

……..

I’m writing this as I sit beside your gravestone. Even though it hurts, there’s a small comfort when I do this, when I write out my feelings next to you. Even though you can’t hear me, or read this, I still feel like a part of you is still here with me as I write.

Like you took care of me, I’m now taking care of him. He loves those old comic books you donated to me all those years ago, and his favorite food is Strawberry pancakes! I’ve also taught him different methods to deal with panic attacks, such as feeling the ground, and deepening his breath.

When he has a nightmare, I don’t hesitate to let him sleep with me for the night so he knows I’ll protect him from anybody who wishes to harm him. And in return, he’s saved me from throwing my life and my relationships with those who care for me away.

I hope you understand that I’m not replacing you with him, I never will. Nothing could ever replace the years we’ve spent together, but I need to learn to accept, to love and nurture again, or I’ll be stuck in the past for the rest of my life.

I need to move on, but I’ll never forget you and everything you’ve done for me. Thank you and I love you.

—————

[uxop]

OKAY

TRUE ENDING (Fujieda’s route) SPOILERS AHEAD

My personal thoughts!!!

I just want to say that after completing the route any other routes will make me feel incomplete. Again, because I originally just wanted to play for Rei I didn’t expect for the game to tie all the routes plot lines in a nice complete bow. And because of that this route was the most captivating to watch. The mystery, flashbacks, Towa’s nightmare truly captured audience attention and kept them glued to the screen, atleast it did for me (I straight up binged played this one fully sooo). Towa truly shines in this, because — duhh— he is the primary focus. Now after knowing the whole past, you can kind of reflect and see the way all of his actions in the present formulate as a way of coping mechanism. These self destructive tendencies, also the sexual drive (might also reflected as a way of reacting to the trauma), and the gravitation towards violence kind of reflected heavily in the route. Also I kind of wanna say the change in mechanics in the “interrogations” were aaaa they gave me chills the whole Towa manipulation for Sakaki in the last showdown really gave me goosebumps. That reminds me when Towa’s memories of his mom are revealed and we finally see the whole thing with glitching screen in red, that was insanely well made, like the related word over and over again and the way goosebumps prickled my skin after she spoke was so intense. Again I wanna say that this route was truly the most well thought and kept me on my toes :)

Now to Fujieda himself, I just wanna say I love him. The only thing that I didn’t like and probably everyone also hates that about him (or I guess the authors for doing that) is well that rape scene. The scene came out of nowhere, I even made side notes when I reacted to it (the progression in my disbelief of this scene). I have no idea even why Nitro+Chiral added it because after knowing Fujieda past itself it doesn’t really makes sense for his character. At least, in the Madarame’s route it is pretty in character because just based on his character of course he would do fucked up shit, you know. But for Fujieda it doesn’t even makes sense like it just happened and it has not affected Towa (as Towa himself said it), didn’t do anything it was just there. I wish they could just delete the scene would have been so much better.

Towa even voiced my thoughts about it

Yeah, but not looking at that scene I wanna say that this character as how the chapter says is an equal to Towa, from their respective scars and childhood abuse, and the way Fujieda carried himself, showcased him as dependable and a very suitable fit for Towa. He didn’t save Towa. As he said it himself they were a support for one another, a push in helping each to do better and be strong. Equals in every aspect of that way, the whole conversation during Towa attempted suicide really showcased how Fujieda sees through him (that whole scene was really a rollercoaster of emotions 😭)

Especially this line really struck a course for me

Yeah, overall those meaningful conversations with Fujieda really made me love his route a lot.

The last scenes with the diary fucking made me sob 😭, the beach scene really made me smile (the way Towa was finally somewhat at peace and can now learn to do stuff he has missed in his childhood), and the painting really put changes in how Towa perceived things. That was really beautiful, I am really satisfied with the ending and happy for Towa, of course.

Oh well I could talk a lot about it and probably point out more things that I enjoyed but it would be too long of a rant.

With it I am done.

I will probably finish Fujieda’s bad route and look at other cg’s, but as of now I am done.

I will soooo miss knowing this for the first time.I am so glad I didn’t spoiler myself majorly for any route as this experience would probably not be the same if I did.

[carmeliawrites]

Magnus Silvera #2

Last time I said that I was investigating the dissapearence of my Great Grandmother, and my Father.

That was a lie, kindof.

See the way I got to know about the broadcast was from a diary that I found in the the Curator's Office the other day, Which Apparently belonged to my father.

See my father, he disappeared one day i suppose. took a train to Lahore, and was never heard from again, or that's what my mother says atleast. Either way from the beginning he talks about Augustine, and has notes about her broadcasts. He also transcribed most of the broadcasts that he could get his hands on.

Now what was I doing in the Curator's Office? Which was restricted to everyone except the head curator of the archives... wellll you see i recently got a mail that the Board had chosen me to be the next Head Curator, so I "borrowed" a key from the Curator's assignment, and went in.

It was quite beautiful actually, no ,The Office was incredibly Beautiful. it'd be an understatement to call it an office it was more of a monument.

the ceiling was domed, somehow, considering we have no domes visible from outside in the archival building, and had Muslim Motifs in Navy Blue decorating it all from the bottom of the dome all the way to the top.

The walls, oh the walls, They were so beautifully made, I wasn't sure if it was wallpaper or not but it was achingly beautiful. I'd even call it ghastly. It was a light shade of red, again, with repeating muslim patterns, which kindof reminded me of Samarkand, but that's off the point.

The floor was gorgeous too, made of marble tiles but having inlaid designs from the Quran.

there were a few windows to the outside which were European in design seeing as they had a sharp pointed arch with Christian stained glass which was the only thing that gave away the fact that this was not created by a Muslim ruler. The Whole thing Honestly reeked of Colonialism.

There was a desk in the middle of the room, surrounded by cupboards and almirahs desecrating this great hall, all of them Horrifyingly painful to look at considering the rest of the hall and on it was a book.

I checked the cupboards, the drawers and found them all to be locked. Now I see why the curator let me in, I could go inside but everything inside was locked up so i couldn't really find much, except for the book, a perfectly ordinary book with no distinguishing features except that it was a book. In a highly secured room. In which everything was locked.

He wanted me to find it didn't he.

I opened the book, and on the first page it said, "Journal of Michael Silvera", Oh fuck this guy.

Michael Silvera was my father. Frankly disgraceful to call him father, a world class bitch would be more fitting. he was a shitty father, who I knew barely about, he spent his last, and my first years spent and tied up in work, and then saunters off to fucking Lahore. and then proceeds to dissapear without a trace, or a call, or any belongings left to my mother. Leaving her to fend for herself.

But bring the total badass that she is she continued on, getting me an education and then I grew up and stuff.

But I stole it anyway, I wanted to know what the fuck was going through my father's brain when he was disregarding his family. I went back to my apartment, and began reading.

--x--

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