#sometimes i think about going back to streams

[notrebdomine]

Eric Harris medication

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As most people know, Eric was on Luvox, but before Luvox he took Zoloft. "In a visit to his general physician, Eric's medical records indicate "possible depression" and "mild/ minimal depressive symptoms." In small words, both (Luvox and Zoloft) are SSRI, or "selective serotonin reuptake inhibitor." It increases the amount of serotonin, sometimes called the "feel good" chemical, in the brain.

The first Luvox prescription listed by Breggin comes on April 25, 1998 for twenty-five milligrams. It was doubled to fifty milligrams just over a month later, and doubled again another month later, in early July. Breggin writes that three and a half months before Columbine, the prescriptions indicate Eric's dose was increased. Breggin also writes that on March 13, 1999, just over one month before Columbine, the medical record notes, "It's 'OK' to increase the dose to 200 mg. per day."

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His point of view about taking medication

Eric would go through periods of taking his medication and going off of it. Below is a journal entry that he wrote in regards to his thoughts on being put on medication.

"My doctor wants to put me on medication to stop thinking about so many things and to stop getting angry. well, I think that anyone who doesn't think like me is just bullshitting themselves. try it sometime if you think you are worthy, which you probably will you little shits, drop all your beliefs and views and ideas that have been burned into your head and try to think about why your here. but I bet most of you fuckers cant even think that deep, so that is why you must die. how dare you think that I and you are part of the same species when we are sooooooo different. you aren't human you are a Robot. you don't take advantage of your capabilities given to you at birth. you just drop them and hop onto the boat and head down the stream of life with all the other fuckers of your type. well god damnit I wont be a part of it! I have thought to much, realized to much, found out to much, and I am to self aware to just stop what am thinking and go back to society because what I do and think isn't "right" or "morally accepted" NO, NO, NO, God Fucking damnit NO! I will sooner die than betray my own thoughts. but before I leave this worthless place, I will kill who ever I deem unfit."

Original from his journal, page #6 ↴

In reality, many of Eric's views were a result of his mental health problems, so in that way, he was right that the medication may change his views, but failed to see that it could be a good thing. He also says in one of his personal tapes, "When I don't take my medication it makes me angry. It's working."

He had some problems with the military concerning his status of medication as well, lying about or simply not mentioning his taking of anti-depressants to his recruiter during his medical examination.

[scarletwinterxx]

thank your stars all you want but I'll always be the lucky one - choi seungcheol scenario

hellooo~ i am soooo not done with the proposal scenarios😅 this one is a request, hope i did it justice. and yes I did cry again while writing this. Happy new year!🤍

you can listen to your universe by rico blanco for maximum feels. this was insipired by this song🥺

for my other svt fics, check them here

All works are copyrighted ©scarletwinterxx 2025 . Do not repost, re-write without the permission of author.

(gif not mine, credits to rightful owner)

The soft glow of morning sunlight streams through the windows of Seungcheol’s apartment, the familiar scent of his cologne lingering in the air. You stretch lazily in bed, savoring the warmth of the cozy blankets and the faint murmur of the city outside.

It’s a routine you’ve grown used to after nearly seven years together—his home has become yours in every way except officially.

Seungcheol had left early for the gym, promising to grab your favorite smoothies on his way back. The two of you had settled into this comfortable rhythm, a dance of affection and understanding that made your friends tease you mercilessly. “You’re practically married already,” they’d say, rolling their eyes at how well you two knew each other’s quirks.

Still, in the quiet corners of your heart, you sometimes wondered why he hadn’t taken the next step. Not that you were in a rush—you loved him, and you knew he loved you. But the idea lingered, like a melody waiting to be completed.

Mid-morning, a knock at the door pulls you from your musings. You pad to the door, opening it to find a delivery man holding a small, nondescript package.

“For Choi Seungcheol?” he asks.

“That’s him,” you reply, signing for the box. It’s light, plain, and gives no indication of what’s inside. You place it on the kitchen counter and send Seungcheol a quick text: A package came for you. Should I open it?

His response is almost immediate. Don’t open it! I’ll deal with it when I’m back. Thanks, babe.

His urgency makes you chuckle. It’s rare for him to be this insistent. Shrugging, you leave the package untouched and go about your day, but curiosity itches at the back of your mind.

When Seungcheol returns, he’s casual—too casual, you think. His eyes dart to the counter where the package rests, and he quickly sweeps it up. “Thanks for letting me know,” he says, planting a kiss on your forehead.

“Sure,” you reply, narrowing your eyes at him. “What’s in it?”

“Just some gym stuff,” he lies, his tone a little too breezy. You know him well enough to catch the slight shift in his demeanor.

Over the next few days, you notice odd behavior. Seungcheol becomes extra cautious, sometimes darting out of the room with his phone or quickly closing drawers when you walk in.

It’s adorable but also maddening. You’re good at sniffing out surprises, and whatever he’s hiding, it’s big.

The breaking point comes during dinner one night. The two of you are seated across from each other, candles flickering between you. He’s unusually fidgety, his fork clinking against the plate as he tries—and fails—to make eye contact.

“Seungcheol,” you say, narrowing your eyes at him as he pokes at his steak. His fidgeting is driving you insane. “Spit it out.”

“What?” he replies, looking up with wide, innocent eyes that you know all too well aren’t innocent at all.

“You’re acting weird.” You lean forward, pointing your fork at him. “I can tell you’re hiding something. Just say it.”

“I’m not hiding anything,” he insists, but his voice cracks slightly. “Can’t a guy just enjoy dinner with his girlfriend without being interrogated?”

“Not when he’s sweating bullets,” you deadpan, crossing your arms.

He laughs nervously and takes a big gulp of water. “It’s just… I’m thinking about work stuff.”

“Liar,” you say, raising an eyebrow.

“Okay, maybe it’s gym stuff,” he says, grinning in that way he does when he’s trying to distract you. “I’m planning a new workout routine.”

“Seungcheol, I know every workout routine you’ve ever done. Don’t test me.”

He groans, dropping his fork onto his plate and dramatically rubbing his face. “Can you trust me on this one? I promise you'll love it and will hate me if I tell you right now. I’ve been working very hard on, can you be kind enough to spare me for now. I pinky promise you'll know soon enough"

You blink at him, stunned by his sudden honesty.

Then, a small smile creeps onto your lips. “Fine,” you say, leaning back in your chair. “But I’m only letting this go because you look like you might combust if I keep pushing.”

He lets out a loud sigh of relief, muttering a quiet, “Thank you.” standing up from his seat to go to you, giving your head a kiss.

The rest of the evening is pleasant, even though you can’t help but notice how Seungcheol keeps stealing glances at you, a secretive smile tugging at the corners of his mouth.

It’s enough to make your curiosity burn, but you keep your promise and drop the subject—for now.

A week later, the snow falling heavy covering the streets with sheets of white. You love the snow, you've always love cold weathers more even though your body doesn't. Anything below 80° makes you shiver.

Your boyfriend knows this, he learned early on your relationship that you get cold easily so he always brings a jacket for you. Now you own his hoodies, a shared asset.

The air outside is crisp as Seungcheol insists on taking you on an evening walk through a quiet park. It's all covered in snow making the whole scene look magical.

Winter lights hang from the trees, casting a warm glow over the snow-dusted path. He holds your gloved hand in his, his thumb brushing over your knuckles as he leads you to a secluded gazebo overlooking a frozen lake.

“Why here?” you ask, smiling at his excited energy. “It’s freezing.”

“It’s romantic,” he replies, winking. “Just trust me.”

You shake your head, amused. “I’m starting to think you’re up to something.”

“Me? Up to something?” He grins mischievously

You look up at the sky, it's dark enough to see the stars. Living in the city, it's a rare sight so you close your eyes and send a quick wish to the heavens like you always do when you see a star. Meanwhile Seungcheol watches you, a smile forming on his lips and his heart thumping hard in his chest

With your eyes still closed, you feel Seungcheol lean closer to you. He kisses your cheeks eliciting a giggle from you

“You’re being extra sweet tonight, did you do something?” you tease

“I’m always sweet,” he counters, feigning offense.

He seems restless, though, his leg bouncing slightly.

“Are you cold?” you ask, concerned.

“No, no. Just... thinking.”

You narrow your eyes. “About what?”

He looks at you, his gaze so intense it makes your heart skip. “About how lucky I am to have you.”

You roll your eyes with a laugh, nudging him playfully. “What’s with the cheesy lines tonight?”

He chuckles but doesn’t answer, leaning in to press a kiss to your temple instead. Then another on your cheek. And one on your lips. His kisses grow deeper, hotter, until the cold around you feels irrelevant.

“Cheol,” you murmur against his lips, half-laughing, half-serious, “what are you doing?”

“Loving you,” he whispers, his voice low and warm.

Despite his sweetness, you’re still clueless about his plan.

When he finally pulls back, he takes both your hands, holding them tightly. “There’s something I’ve been meaning to ask you.”

You tilt your head, your curiosity piqued. “What is it?”

He drops to one knee in front of you, and your heart stutters. “You don't know how hard it was to keep this from you, every time you ask I almost wanted to tell you but I wanted everything to be perfect” He pulls a small velvet box from his coat pocket, opening it to reveal a glittering diamond ring.

Your mouth falls open, your breath caught in your chest.

“You are my everything,” he says, his voice steady despite the emotion in his eyes. “The one who makes my world brighter, warmer, better. Whenever I think about the future, I can only see us. You. Stealing all of my hoodies, cooking breakfast for us, me bringing home your favorite smoothie on the weekend. To be honest, I don't really need any wishes because I'm already the lucky one. But will you make me the luckiest man and let me be your husband?”

Your lips jut out, quivering as tears fall down your cheeks. You can't even form words right now so you just nod frantically, unable to speak. He slips the ring onto your finger, and you throw yourself into his arms, laughing and crying at the same time.

“You’re unbelievable,” you whisper as he kisses you again, deeper this time, stealing the breath from your lungs.

He smiles against your lips. “I take it that’s a yes?”

“Of course, it’s a yes,” you reply, pulling him closer. “You big, cheesy romantic.”

He laughs, his forehead resting against yours. “Told you, you'll love my suprise”

And you do. With the stars above, the quiet of the snowy park, and the warmth of his love, you know you’ve found your universe in him.

[aventurineswife]

could i request aventurine with a homesick g/n reader? in the sense that they are from a different planet and are either visiting/living in penacony. i think it’d be interesting considering how aventurine might relate to their situation.

Home is not a place, it’s a feeling

Summary: Aventurine finds himself drawn to you as you struggle with homesickness, feeling the weight of longing for your home planet while living in Penacony. As your sense of loss grows, Aventurine, who understands the pain of displacement and survivor’s guilt, offers a form of quiet support. Through small, thoughtful gestures and shared vulnerabilities, he helps guide you through your emotional struggle, while also confronting his own buried fears and regrets.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Homesickness, Emotional Support, Mutual Vulnerability, Internal Conflict, Subtle Romance, Hurt/Comfort.

Warnings: Themes of homesickness and isolation, Mentions of survivor’s guilt and trauma, Emotional angst, Mild manipulation (in terms of comfort, not malice), Subtle, slow-building romance.

The light of Penacony’s moon streamed through the floor-to-ceiling windows of Aventurine’s lavish suite, casting fractured beams of light across the opulent room. You sat curled in a corner of the velvet chaise, knees drawn to your chest, staring out at the sprawling cityscape. Penacony was beautiful—its vibrant nightlife, radiant architecture, and bustling markets—but it wasn’t home.

A sigh escaped your lips as the glow of your home planet, so far away, weighed heavy on your heart. You missed the simple things: the scent of rain on your streets, the taste of your local delicacies, the way the sun dipped below familiar horizons. Being here, surrounded by decadence and strangers, only seemed to amplify your longing.

“You know,” Aventurine’s smooth, lilting voice broke the quiet, “I’ve seen a thousand starscapes, but there’s a certain sadness in how they all start to look the same.”

You glanced up to find him leaning casually against the doorway, his hair catching the moonlight. Dressed in his usual blend of ostentation and elegance, with his overcoat draped over his shoulders, Aventurine looked every bit the enigmatic gambler he was. But there was something in his expression tonight—something softer, quieter—that made you pause.

“Can’t sleep?” he asked, strolling toward you. The faint scent of his cologne, something sharp yet sweet, lingered as he perched on the armrest of your chaise.

You shook your head. “Just… thinking.”

“Ah,” he said, his eyes narrowing slightly as if reading between the lines. “Thinking about home, aren’t you?”

The knot in your chest tightened. “Yeah,” you admitted softly. “I miss it. Everything here is so… different.”

Aventurine tilted his head, his smile faint but warm. “Homesickness is a peculiar kind of ache, isn’t it? It’s not just missing a place—it’s missing a piece of yourself that only exists there.”

You blinked at him, surprised. “You get homesick?”

He chuckled, the sound low and wistful. “Sometimes. Though ‘home’ is a rather abstract concept for me. Sigonia wasn’t exactly a paradise.” His tone was light, almost dismissive, but his gaze drifted to the window, and you caught a flicker of something—pain, perhaps, or nostalgia.

“Still,” he continued, “there are moments I’d give anything to feel the desert wind on my face again. To hear my mother’s voice calling me in for supper or to watch my sister’s silly little dances under the sun. Even knowing I can’t go back, the memories… they stick with you, don’t they?”

You swallowed hard, the rawness of his words resonating deeply. “Yeah,” you murmured. “They do.”

Aventurine leaned forward, resting his chin on his hand as he studied you. “You know,” he said after a moment, “there’s a trick to homesickness.”

“Oh?” you asked, raising an eyebrow.

He grinned, a flash of his usual bravado returning. “You carry it with you. All the things you miss—the smells, the tastes, the sounds—you find ways to recreate them. Here, there, anywhere. You make your own little pockets of home, no matter how far you’ve wandered.”

Your lips quirked into a small smile. “That’s… surprisingly practical advice for someone like you.”

Aventurine placed a hand over his heart, feigning offense. “Darling, I’ll have you know I’m full of wisdom—when the occasion calls for it.” His playful tone softened as he added, “Besides, I know what it’s like to feel untethered. And I wouldn’t wish that on anyone.”

His sincerity caught you off guard, and for a moment, the ache in your chest eased. “Thanks, Aventurine,” you said quietly.

He waved a hand dismissively. “Think nothing of it. Now, let’s make a deal.”

“A deal?” you echoed, narrowing your eyes.

He leaned closer, his grin widening. “I’ll help you make Penacony feel a little more like home—find the right food, music, scents, whatever you need. In return, you’ll owe me a favor.”

You couldn’t help but laugh. “Of course, there’s a catch.”

“There’s always a catch,” he teased, his eyes sparkling mischievously. “But trust me, darling—it’s worth the gamble.”

For the first time in days, the weight of homesickness didn’t feel quite so heavy. Maybe, just maybe, Aventurine’s gamble was one you were willing to take.

[pickles4nickles]

Last year, I wanted to do some kind of jank, made in Powerpoint VGAs-type stream, but… that requires me to put a Powerpoint together and a speech for each thing… and I’d wanna make a cute little suit for my PNGtuber and I’d need to find the TIME…

And that was too much pressure for me to get everything together.

So instead, I did a blog post rundown of the games that were released in 2024 that I either played or experienced through a stream that I liked or have something to say about it. The fact that any video game is released is kind of a miracle in and of itself and I think that deserves an award, even if it’s not “The Most” or “The Best” of something!

So without further ado, here’s my version of the 2024 Video Game Awards:

The Worst Use of the Name “Mililani” Award | Like a Dragon: Infinite Wealth

LaD: Infinite Wealth was the latest release in the Yakuza series, where ex-yakuza man Ichiban Kasuga goes to Hawai’i to find his mom and shenanigans ensue. The man who is supposed to be Legally Dead and Not Alive known as The Dragon of Dojima, Kiryu Kazuma is also there. He’s having a mortality crisis. It’s fine. If you’ve never played or experienced a Yakuza game, the vibe is essentially big crime J-drama with interludes of silly side stories in-between. Some of these side stories include games that involve taming and getting into cockfights with middle-aged weirdo men and running a vacation resort with cameos from characters of the Japanese equivalent of Sesame Street.

I actually wrote a really, really long review about this game back in the Spring, so I’ll keep this section as short as I can. LaD: IW is a game that attacked my soul as I am a Hawai’i born and raised Gamer™. For the most part, I did enjoy the 100+ hours I put into the game and I did like the battle system and side games, but I have some gripes about the story and I do kinda cross my arms at the way the game portrayed my hometown. That being said I think Infinite Wealth is… ffffine and I’d recommend it if you like the Yakuza series or big JRPGs, just… be wary of the intercultural perceptions.

The Productivity Killer Award | Balatro

Balatro is a roguelike deck building game that revolves around making the highest scoring Poker hands, while using various Joker and other cartomancy-kinda cards to manipulate your score, but also editing your deck by modifying or adding to the traditional 52 that you’d use in regular Poker.

Balatro’s just… good! It’s really easy to pick up even if you don’t know how to play real Poker (like me), but there’s also an insane level of mastery to be had with it. There’s just something kinda fun about breaking the rules of a long-established card game that feels great.

The Tiniest Terry Award | Tiny Terry’s Turbo Trip

Tiny Terry’s Turbo Trip is a game by the Wuppo devs where you’re a little blue guy who drives his car around the town of Spranklewater, collecting Turbo Junk to upgrade his car to launch it into space. You also have a pipe. To assert dominance :)

TTTT has this really specific dry and absurdist flavor of humor that I really, really like. And on top of that it’s just a really fun game to run around in and play. Massive overworld maps that you find in bigger budget games can get overwhelming, but this game has just the right amount of places to go and poke around in.

The Stupidest Game I’ve Played This Year /pos Award | Thank Goodness You’re Here!

Thank Goodness You’re Here is a game where you’re a little man in a delightful 2D, hand-drawn British town and you just kinda slap things and help people with their problems. Sometimes there is a dick joke. Sometimes there is just straight up A Dick. Because British humor.

I don’t have too much, like, deep and meaningful insight about this one… because it’s really not that type of game. I really like the art style of this game, the whole thing is pretty much just one, big interactive sketch comedy. It’s a game that’s very unapologetic about its culture by just forcing you to sit with how grimy it can be at times, and it’s great!

The Devotion Burger Award | Great God Grove

Great God Grove is a game from the Smile for Me devs about a world in which every thirty or so years, a giant rift in the sky opens up that acts as a portal between the mortal plane and the realm of the gods. An elected human can enter the rift and ascend to godhood, but if left open too long, the rift will suck up and destroy the world. The gods have always joined together to close the rift, but this time around, The Grove is in chaos. Due to some nasty letters sent out by the next-god-to-be, King, it doesn’t seem like the gods will come together in time to stop the apocalypse, so it looks like it’s your job to straighten things out. With your trusty tool, the Megapon, you can suck up the words people say and shoot them at other people to help people communicate and solve puzzles.

So you’ve all been seeing me draw fanart of this game. This game got into my HEAD. LimboLane’s character designs and writing are always so unique and quirky and they’re not afraid to put their feelings and emotions into their art (I have been learning recently that that is very hard to do). I was initially interested in this game because of its style, went in as blind as possible, and I did not expect this game to fall into my lap when I really needed it most because it touched upon some subjects that I’ve been kinda struggling with recently. This and Tiny Terry’s Turbo Trip would probably be my Game of the Year picks if I was making that a concrete award for this.

The Gay Fish Award | WEBFISHING

WEBFISHING is a multiplayer lobby (but you can play it solo!) game where you make a little animal guy (cat or dog) and you fish and hang out with your friends. As you fish, you earn money that can be exchanged for cosmetics.

WEBFISHING is a really, really simple game and that’s, like, not a bad thing or to undermine the devs or anything at all. Most multiplayer games have a very concrete goal in mind where players usually have to focus on the main goal to participate, and a lot of us just don’t have the time or the energy to be actively and continuously present for something like that anymore. The nature of WEBFISHING is just hanging out with your pals, popping in and out as it suits you. And we need more games like that.

The Why Have You Done This Award | UFO 50 - Mooncat

UFO 50 is a pack of fifty retro-style games from the Spelunky devs and friends that emulates a fictional video game company’s legacy through the years. Mooncat is one of those games where you play as… what- what the hell is that- An orange (red?) pickle-shaped creature with Grinch feet and unknown motivations.

The directional buttons move the character left and face buttons will move the character right. Pressing a directional button and a face button at the same time will make the character jump and doing so again while in mid-air will make them do a ground pound.

Hey, so, I dunno what mad lad in specific came up with this game, but this is simultaneously one of the worst and best things I have ever played and I think this game should get spotlighted for that emotion alone.

The “Close Enough, Welcome Back Pokemon XD” Award | Beastieball

Beastieball is basically what if Pokemon was also Haikyuu- this is a game that’s Pokemon double battles but also a volleyball game at the same time. As you recruit new critters to your team, they’ll learn new plays, maybe metamorphose into new forms, and make bonds with their teammates.

At the time I initially started writing this, I hadn't finished the whole game- I’m near the end, though, at this game’s version of The Elite Four. The game is also still in early access with a lot of Beasties having unfinished visual assets. Despite all that, BEASTIEBALL IS SOLID. I might write up a longer review of it once I’m done with the game, but as someone whose favorite Pokemon game is Pokemon XD and we haven’t had a solid PvE experience in that franchise in YEARS, Beastieball definitely scratches that itch.

The Cardboard Crack Award | Pokemon TCG Pocket

Pokemon TCG Pocket is Pokemon’s new trading card game app where you collect cards and play a simplified version of the long-running card game. 

I’m putting this here because for being a free-to-play live service kinda game, it’s been… pretty good all things considered? At least for now? Yeah, there’s some decks that aren’t FTP friendly and the RNG will have your head in your hands sometimes. I dunno, as someone who fell hard from playing Pokemon VGC where I got overwhelmed with the amount of plays I had to retain, this was a nice change of pace. I’ve been having fun talking about the different kinda decks that have been going around with friends, sharing the cards we find, and I get to experience the serotonin of opening a card pack without having to spend real world money so... good! While there’s a nonzero chance that the game will fall to ruin a la Pokemon Go, I’ve enjoyed the time I’ve had with the game at the moment.

The “Games I Watched but Didn’t Play” Honorable Mentions

Yellow Taxi Goes Vroom

“Shmovement”- type platformer where you’re a little car with an acceleration button. Has a really great soundtrack! Not-so-subtly dunks on the muskrat man. I don’t have a lot to say about this game because, again, I watched it and didn’t play it and a lot of what makes this game neat is the platforming of it all. It’s on my to-play list, though! So maybe one day.

Crow Country

Survival horror game where you uncover the secrets of the eponymous amusement park, Crow Country. Has an unsettling vibe, goopy monsters, but doesn’t really have any jumpscares, if that helps anyone. I also don’t have a lot to say about this, not just because a lot of the experience comes from having the controller in my hands, but… horror’s not really a genre I go to very often. But I guess if a scaredy baby like me wasn’t put off by the early Playstation-style graphics and could sit through it, that’s a good sign?

Uncle Chop’s Rocket Shop

An auto shop repair roguelike where you consult in-game manuals on how to repair different modules under time pressure. Has a lot of swearing for Vibe Reasons. From what I’ve seen, this game can be FRANTIC, so if you’re looking for a chill game, this might not exactly be for you, but there are two modes- one with smaller jobs, but more time pressure, and another with less time pressure, but bigger jobs that you need to do almost perfectly. I’ve been burnt out on roguelikes, but I might actually consider picking this one up, as the test of skill isn’t necessarily reaction time or muscle memory like your traditional roguelike, but gaining knowledge to fix modules quickly without consulting the manual. And I think that’s neat! I don’t think we’ve had a game like that just yet. That being said, the game has been buggy at times, but the devs have been patching it up regularly, so if you’re interested in picking it up, be aware of that! And waiting a little bit before grabbing it might be a solid move.

Egg Squeeze

If Thank Goodness You're Here! was the stupidest game I've played this year, this is the stupidest game I've watched this year.

I refuse to tell you anything about this game.

Persona 3 Reload

It’s the same Persona 3 we all know from the early 2000s with a LOT of quality of life changes and fully voiced social links! That being said, it is still Persona 3, so your mileage may vary and please note the literal trigger warnings.

I… was not able to finish watching a playthrough of it because the end of the game does get kinda heavy and I haven’t been in the right headspace for it (I do not handle death and mortality very well), but in my opinion, of the more modern, easily accessible Persona games (Pour one out for 1 and 2), I think P3 sticks to its thesis and theming the best.

Metaphor: ReFantazio

A game from the Persona team where it’s the same kinda day-to-day hang out with people to strengthen your bonds, fight RPG dungeon monsters kind of deal, except instead of a Japanese high school, a high fantasy setting. 

I liked watching this game- there’s a lot of twists that made me metaphorically (heh) get up from my chair and go “NO FUCKING WAY” and I do like a lot of the characters and their social links. However, this still is the Persona team and, no, they still do not know how to write young adult women. In terms of overall story, Metaphor asks the question, “In times of fear and anxiety, can the general public be trusted to choose a trustworthy leader?” While the game’s plot and themes swing hard in the beginning, the game’s ending kinda pulls its punches.

Despite all that, from what I’ve seen, there’s a lot of quality of life improvements in this game compared to past Persona games - social links ALWAYS level up for each event, the game will very clearly tell you whether an action will progress time or not, the battle system is very polished, and a lot of people seem to like the Archetype system which allows your party members, not just the protagonist, to change battle classes.

Also, shout-out to some of this game’s enemy designs, as some of them are inspired by Hieronymus Bosch paintings. I don’t think a boss battle has ever filled me with the rawest emotion of “okay what the hell am I looking at” as much as this game.

Astro Bot

In the past few years, Team Asobi, a first-party developer for Sony, has been making what are basically tech demos for the Playstation, featuring their little cutie robot player character, Astro Bot. This year, they released a full-on collectathon platformer! A green Minion-ass lookin’ alien breaks apart your spaceship and scatters your robot buddies to the winds, and it’s your job to save them.

I’m just gonna sound like a broken record at this point because, yeah, this game won the VGAs and so many people have sung its praises, but I’m genuinely glad this won GOTY. Even though it’s a very “Sony wants you to remember how good they are/used to be” kind of game that pricks you with a needle and pumps 50ccs of nostalgia into you, it’s still a very solid game without it. To me, the visuals are the best part, with bright, colorful worlds that have so, so much polish into them and you can tell the team had fun making it. I’m glad this game won the GOTY because I want this industry to realize that games don’t need to be gritty and realistic to have value, they just need to be made with heart.

And Two Games I Played This Year that were 2023 Releases

In Stars and Time

Dude, you’re still on Tumblr, you probably heard of this one.

In Stars and Time is a black and white RPG Maker kinda RPG where you play as Siffrin, who is So Very Okay And Not Having A Rough Time At All and stuck in a time loop. The battles operate under a literal rock-paper-scissors weaknesses system with a ATB (Active Time Battle) meter and a Persona-like All-Out Attack style system, which builds as you use the same types of attacks in succession.

It has The Character (Siffrin) with The Character Design. It has the object head character. It has maybe the most casual conversations about being trans and being ace that I've ever seen in any video game so far. It has the narrative that will rip your heart out and possibly inspire you to consider therapy (not as a bad thing). It has so much!!

I have a lot of feelings on In Stars and Time as this was maybe the most cathartic game I’ve played in a while that put into words a lot of feelings I haven’t quite been able to name. That being said, I don’t have too much to say other than, like, it’s good? While a lot of games have the ludonarrative dissonance problem, this game achieves ludonarrative harmony. Although the cast has been traveling with the protagonist prior to the start of the game, Siffrin being emotionally distant from them means there’s some stuff they don’t know about their friends, so you get to learn what’s going on with them along with Siffrin. As you go through loop after loop after loop, you’ll maybe get a little frustrated and the game realizes that and reflects that narratively! A lot of RPGs also have trouble nailing the ending or, like, either the gameplay is good and the story falls short or the other way around, but… ISAT’s pretty much nails everything!

If I had played this in 2023 (and Hi-fi RUSH didn’t exist), it might’ve been my GOTY.

Chants of Sennaar

A point-and-click-ish deductive reasoning game where you use cultural and societal context clues to translate language!

I think this is a game that’s best to go in knowing as little as possible, like, if the premise sounds interesting at all to you, go and pick it up. If you’re on the fence about it because puzzle games can be difficult, the game has a note-taking journal system that’ll help you confirm translations and show any notes you’ve taken on-screen as you’re puzzling stuff out, so you don’t have to worry about getting overwhelmed. I think that’s all I can say about it without spoiling anything, so go grab it if it piques your interest at all.

[bloodhoundsandplagues]

How can I make it OK?

Arthur Morgan x reader

Summary : you're homesick.

gender neutral reader, no use of y/n, not explicitly romantic unless you wanna read it that way, 3K words

Warnings : swearing, mentions of suicide, panic attack described in semi detail, not the jolliest thing i've ever written

A/N : first post that's actually writing in 2025 ! wrote most of this on the train while listening to house in nebraska by ethel cain and more than this by wolf alice so yeah. also this isn't arthur heavy in the sense that it's reader rambling about being homesick mostly. to be read in a southern accent as god intended

Of all the places I have travelled with the Van Der Linde gang, I think this is my least favourite. 

Living- or rather, camping- in the ruins of some plantation, bodies of the former owners stagnating in the pond. Sometimes I hear ‘em- the ghosts, in the walls, screamin’. I know it’s my mind, playing tricks on me; but it’s harder to have that rational thought when you’re lying alone in the middle of the night, wind whistling through broken windows. It’s not that I don’t like having a roof over my head. Shit, everyone in this godforsaken gang is happy to have a real shelter from the weather, even one as flimsy as this house. So I shut my mouth, hunt as I’m expected-which is what I am doing now, borrowed bow over my shoulder, quiver resting comfortingly between my shoulder blades. 

Hunting is familiar. Back in the Grizzlies, where my daddy raised me, we’d go out any time of day, in any weather, hunt for the coming storms. I’d do everything the way he taught me to- lay out traps, wait behind a boulder, bow in hand. It builds patience, he told me when I asked why the hell we didn’t just track the damn animal, instead of waitin’ in the cold for it to find us. 

Now, it’s not cold, and dear old daddy ain’t here to help. 

I left my horse hitched by a lake, with enough grass for him to be fed and well until I bring back something worthy of Pearson. It’s near sunrise; already, the heat is uncomfortable; my skin is sticky, my clothes uncomfortable. It’s moments like these that I long for the snow. 

I wipe my forehead with the back of my head. I’ve been walking for a little while now, waiting for a pack of deer to pass by. There’s something that bothers me about killing them- maybe it’s their eyes, so big and brown, caught frozen as they stare at you. Or maybe it’s their resemblance to this little girl I knew, at a local village at the base of the mountain where I grew up. 

I shake the thought of her big brown eyes and twitchy nose as I spot a herd of ‘em, grazing near a small stream. There’s enough light for me to count them- seven, big enough to feed us. 

I get on one knee, like my daddy taught me. Notch an arrow in the bow, pull it back. One of the poor animals raises its head, looks in my direction. 

Before I can hesitate, I let go, and the arrow flies; a fraction of a second later, it has notched itself in the animal’s throat. It falls; its friends, the rest of its herd (its gang, I think, almost laughing) scamper off, into the woods. I don’t go after them. Pearson will have to do with this, and whatever herbs or mushrooms I’m able to pick up. 

The doe is dead by the time I reach her. I kneel. Pull the arrow from her neck; thick, sticky blood gets on my hands. I almost reach for snow, to clean it off; curse myself when my fingertips meet grass and mud. The doe’s dead eye stares up at me, brown and empty as the sky. I resist the urge to close them. 

“Sorry, sweet.” I whisper it as I hoist her up, put her over my shoulder. She’s heavy. I must be getting blood on my shirt- it’s a shame, because it’s my favourite colour, and I’ve just bought it. 

I swallow any regrets I feel as I walk back to my horse, the weight of the doe uncomfortable against my bow and quiver. 

You’re the reason she won’t come home, a little voice whispers in my head. I stop, then, because my chest is tightening and I can’t really breathe. I say something incoherent. The fields around me are empty- it’s just me and this doe. 

I drop her into the mud and loosen my shirt, gasping for air. I want cold, I want crisp mountain air; not this thick, humid, barely-air that clogs my throat and makes my lungs heavy. 

I dig my fingers into the mud and grass, as I would have done in the snow, back home. Home. What a weird thought. I catch the dead doe’s eye again, and that’s when the tears come, thick and hot and nasty, blurring my vision. So stupid, I think, as I force myself to stare at her. She- no, it- is just an animal. She doesn’t have a home, not the way I did. Do. 

I think of crying out for help, but that’s pathetic, and I’m a lot of things, but pathetic ain’t one of them. 

I think I stay there, on my knees, fingers deep in the mud, for a long time- when my vision clears again and I’ve stopped gasping for air, the sky is clear, clear blue, no traces of sunrise left. If I focus hard enough on it, I can almost pretend I’m back in the mountains. 

I get up, teeth digging into my tongue to prevent any new feelings from resurfacing. I’m not in the goddamn mountains. All that’s left for me there is two frozen bodies deep beneath the snow, and a hut that’s probably been raided or taken over by some other gang. 

I pick the doe up, this time careful to avoid looking at her face. Its face. It’s an animal, not my goddamn sister. 

I make it back to my horse without another incident; strap the doe across his back and climb onto his saddle. His name is Coal, ‘cause of the colour o’ him- black and charcoal grey, a streak of white down his face. 

“Hey, boy,” I murmur to him as I flick the reigns. My voice is shaky, hoarse; it’s obvious that I’ve been crying. 

Coal begins to trot back to camp. I think of changing direction, of going to Rhodes, clear my thoughts. But I gotta bring this back to Pearson, or he’ll skin me. 

The camp is still there when I return, which is a relief. I don’t think I’ll forget the moment when I came back after a hunt and found everyone gone, everything burned to the ground. 

I shiver at the memory and get off Coal. “I’ll come ‘nd fix your saddle later,” I say to him, scratching his neck. He grunts, in a tone I hope is affectionate. I remove the doe, put her back over my shoulder. Make it to Pearson’s stand, where he’s angrily chopping vegetables. 

“Hey,” I say, dropping the doe in front of him. I angle her head- her eyes- away from me. “Got some meat.” 

“I can see that,” is Pearson’s kind answer. 

I ignore him and walk away again, into the derelict house we’ve been callin’ home for the last few weeks. My room is on the top floor; I wish I shared it with someone, but I got lucky (Dutch’s words) and got my own, private room. 

I tug off my bloodstained shirt and drop it on the floor. There’s nothin’ to be done about my trousers- they’re the only pair I’ve got (the others have just been washed, and hang soaking wet outside) and I don’t plan on walking around bare-legged. 

I change quickly. Sit down on the bed, stare at the wall. 

I don’t know how long I stay like that; starin’ at the peeling wallpaper, trying to pretend it’s the same white as the snow I used to see out my window. Obviously, the pretendin’ don’t work, because it’s not the snow, it’s a crumbling fuckin’ wall in a crumbling fuckin’ house. I stand, take a deep breath in (of hot, hot, humid, thick air), push it out. It ain’t cleansing- I don’t feel better once I’ve tasted the surrounding bogs- but it’s enough to calm my heartbeat, and make me feel somewhat human again. 

For the rest of the day, I help around camp, doing stupid, mind-numbing tasks. I try not to think of the mountains, and how much better than this godforsaken swamp they were. People talk to me, and I answer, polite and all. I eat Pearson’s stew, listen to another grandiose speech about Dutch’s plan (or, as far as I’m concerned, concepts of a plan). I finally find a moment of quiet sitting on a log, staring out at the swamp. Not the prettiest sight; all brown and green, with hints of yellow dust. 

I’m alone for only a few minutes before I hear footsteps. I turn, and find Arthur approaching, taking his cigarette packet from his satchel. I shift on the log I’m sitting on, making the split second decision that his company is something I want right now. 

He sits next to me, silently. Offers me a cigarette (I decline with a shake of my head and a wave of my hand) then lights his own with a match. He stays quiet for a little while, blowing smoke from his mouth, tinting the world blue and grey. 

It’s strange, sitting next to him. He don’t mind being quiet; seems to like my company well enough, ‘cause he keeps coming back here to smoke. 

He’s the one who found me, all that time ago, on a solo hunt in the Grizzlies. It was at the edge of the mountains, where it starts to get warmer; where the sun melts away most of the snow. Was from Blackwater, he said- I asked if I could go back with him. Promised I’d leave ‘em all alone when I got there, I just needed a job, as far from my daddy’s corpse as I could get. He’d said yes, maybe reluctantly. 

Turns out, I’d found somethin' better than a job. Not quite a family, but a gang, people to rely on, people to distract me from the emptiness created by my father’s death. I suppose it’s these people keeping me here, in this swampy nowhere, sweating my socks off. Here, I’ve got people- back in the mountains, I’ve got two dead bodies and an empty house. 

My chest tightens again, and wordlessly, I take the cigarette from Arthur’s hand, take a long drag. I hand it back, still silent, and dig my fingernails into my knuckles. 

“You miss home?” Arthur asks me, his words marked by the smoke curling from his mouth. I take the cigarette from his fingers again, press it between my teeth, inhale ‘till I can blame the burning in my eyes on the smoking rather than whatever has grabbed hold of me; whatever old, buried feeling I’d thought long gone had chosen to make an appearance. Guess it must be more obvious than I thought, that I’m feelin’ odd, ‘cause he clearly smelled it on me. 

“I don’t know, I guess,” I say, softly, fiddling with the dirty fabric of my trousers as I hand the cigarette back; as if I don’t know the answer, as if I haven’t spent half my goddamn life thinking about this. I exhale, blowing out smoke from my nose.  “Never really thought about it.” The lie burns in my throat, so thick I can hardly breathe. 

It’s not the stability that I miss. The weather in the Grizzlies was nothin’ permanent, not in any sense- one minute it’s a blizzard, the next you’re standing staring at the bright blue sky, knee deep in snow. I guess it’s the wolves howling, it’s the comfort of a fire as wind rattles against the window panes; it’s even the way the stars look after three days holed up inside. There’s no one thing I miss or don’t miss- I just know I miss it, so much that my chest tightens at the thought. 

When my daddy got shot, three- no, four- years ago, I thought the one answer was to leave that place behind; pack up my clothes and go out into the Wild Wild West, make my own future away from the smell of his freshly dug grave, right next to my mama’s frozen bones. And when I came across Arthur, and later his gang of gung-ho outlaws, who seemed ready to take on the world, I thought that was it- my life was set. 

But I don’t like the constant moving like I used to. It don’t feel like adventure anymore; it feels like escaping, like we’re always running from something. 

“I don’t…” I hesitate, reach up to dig my nails into the dip of my collarbone, try to dig the feeling out, hold it up to the light to examine it. “I guess it’s different.” A veiled confession. Away from the Grizzlies (away from home) it’s hot, stiflingly so; I can’t climb onto my horse without breaking a sweat. It’s already too warm by the time the sun rises- clothes sticking to your skin uncomfortably, flies buzzing above, drowning in the smell of swampy nothingness as soon as your eyes open. I don’t hate it- it has become familiar, but familiar in the way the weight of a revolver at my hip has become familiar; the way the constant paranoia that clogs my throat has become familiar. 

“Different how?” 

Another pause, as I scuff the yellow dust ground with the toe of my boot. Different in a whole lotta ways, I want to tell him; even the colour of the sky isn’t quite the same back home. 

Home. I think of the snow as I stare at the yellowed leather of my shoes. Where there’s snow and wolves and no people to shoot at you unless you really look for it. 

“I don’t know,” I say, even though my whole body knows; it courses through me, the knowledge that a few days ride away is the mountains, and the snow. “It just is.”

The answer dissatisfies him, I think. “C’mon,” he says in that gruff voice of his. “You gotta be able to find one difference between here and the goddamn Grizzlies.” 

“’S warmer,” I say, the words followed by a short, slightly forced laugh. “Don’t snow as much.” 

He snorts, shaking his head. “Alright,” he responds, maybe a little condescendingly. “Think o’ anything else?” 

“You got less wolves down here,” I add, after a few moments. I don’t say that I miss the sound of them howling; that when I close my eyes, I try to picture it, try to pretend I’m back there instead of here. 

“Alright.” He says it kinder this time, like we’re getting somewhere. 

“The sky looks different.” I dig my fingers in deeper. He offers me the cigarette; I take it, repurpose the burning in my throat. The smoke flickers around me as I exhale. “It’s- clearer, up there. More blue.” Here, the sky is tinted almost yellow. It ain’t ugly, but it ain’t home. 

He doesn’t answer, now, staring out at the swamps. I don’t know how he feels about this place- about Rhodes, and the foreignness of Saint Denis, with its factories and smoke and cobbled roads. I wonder if he misses home- if he ever had one to begin with. “I guess I do miss it,” I say, to fill the silence more than anything. “But… I don’t know, I don’t think I wanna go back.” Alone is the word I don’t add. I think- maybe- if I had the gang, my new family, I’d go back to the Grizzlies. After we escaped Blackwater, and hid out in that abandoned town up in the mountains; that was the happiest I’d been for a long time. 

But alone isn’t something I want to be. Not the way I was alone, the few weeks after my father passed- just me and the freshly dug grave, me and the wolves, me and the gun that killed him, sittin’ on the table, an unwanted temptation. 

“I don’t wanna be alone again.” It comes out soft, hoarse, pathetic, the words grating in my throat, like sandpaper on my tongue. 

It’s true. Yes, home is in the mountains; I know that now, when my chest clenches at the simple thought of the snow. But home is also with these people- with Arthur, and Mary-Beth, and Pearson, and the rest of them. Hell, even Kieran, the O’Driscoll boy, has become home, in a way. Home is not just the place where I grew up (the place where my daddy now lies); home is also the people that have become my family; who have embraced me so kindly and warmly. I know deep in my stomach that if I were to leave now, take a horse back to the hut, I’d end up like my daddy, a bullet in my head and a gun in my hand. 

He did it ‘cause he was lonely. So lonely that even I wasn’t enough to stop him from pulling the trigger. Lived in the mountains his whole life, but he had my mama then, and his parents. I guess fifty years of snow and not much else can drive you insane. 

My hand goes to my temple; I dig my fingers into the skin, right where I found the bullet in his head. 

“Y’won’t be,” he responds gruffly. He’s finished his cigarette, and yet he’s not made any attempt to get up, leave me with my thoughts. I snort, wipe my mouth with the back of my hand. 

“Don’t know that,” I say. “With the Pinkertons on our asses, ‘nd all.” It’s meant to be lighthearted, but it comes out quiet, rough. 

“Yeah, but they’ve always been on our asses.” He puts a hand on my leg; it engulfs my entire knee. “Tell you what.” He hesitates, clearin’ his throat a little. Squeezes my knee. “I’ll take you huntin’, once a week- or twice, or less, if you want.” 

“I go huntin’ anyway,” I answer. “Not in the mountains, y’don’t.” My chest both tightens and loosens at the same time. I swallow; my heart is thumping in my chest. I put my hand to my collarbone again, digging my nails in. “C’mon, it’ll do you good. Cold air and all that.” 

I know there’s a deeper meaning to that. Cold air- he’s giving me the chance to go home, and not by myself. Even if it’s not for long, it’s enough- to feel the snow again, to hear the wolves. Maybe once I’ll camp overnight, ride back to camp in the morning. The idea fills me with hope- a feeling we’re all starved of, these days. 

“Really?” Is all I manage to croak out. 

“What, you don’t wanna?”

I laugh, and it’s genuine this time. “No, I- I wanna.”

“Alright then.” He gives my knee a last squeeze, then stands. I stand with him, smooth my shirt with the flat of my hand. “Tomorrow then?” Tomorrow. Tomorrow, tomorrow, tomorrow. I’d sing, if my throat weren’t so damn tight. My eyes sting, and I wipe at my nose with my hand. 

“Thank you,” I say, quietly. He don’t respond, but he nods, and I think maybe he smiles a little. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow I’ll get to take a piece of my new home to the place I grew up- someone I love, to the place that holds my heart. 

I watch him walk away; and suddenly, the humidity don’t feel so bad anymore. 

[mikuluvu]

can you do Janitor!Jimmy and Nurse!Reader like they're both bullied by Anya Daisuke and Curly most of the time and they comfort eachother by midnight talks and tending eachothers wounds

A/n: This is the second time... Whats with the bullying stuff guys 😭 but I'll do these just to make you guys full and happy , mouthwash rlly did a great job 😦 but srsly i hope ur ok -

Janitor!Jimmy x Nurse!Reader

The Tulpar was always quiet at midnight.

Jimmy leaned against the rusted railing outside the medbay, a cigarette dangling loosely from his lips. His jumpsuit was stained with grease and blood—some his, some not. He’d learned to stop distinguishing between the two.

“You shouldn’t be smoking in here,” you said softly as you stepped out, clutching a first aid kit. Your uniform was crumpled, a dark stain smearing the corner of your sleeve where someone had grabbed you too hard earlier.

Jimmy exhaled a thin stream of smoke, his tired eyes flicking to you. “Don’t worry, Pretty sure a second-hand smoke’s the least of our problems.”

You sighed and set the kit down on a crate beside him. “Let me see.”

“See what?”

“The cut on your cheek. I noticed it earlier when Curly shoved you out of the cockpit.”

Jimmy flinched at the memory, his jaw tightening. “It’s fine.”

“It’s not,” you said firmly, stepping closer. “Please.”

After a long silence, Jimmy flicked the cigarette away and tilted his head slightly, letting you inspect the angry red gash on his cheekbone. Your touch was gentle, your hands steady even though your sleeves still trembled with exhaustion.

“Rough day?” he asked, breaking the silence.

You gave him a weak smile. “They cornered me again during lunch. Anya said I’m ‘useless dead weight.’ Daisuke laughed. Curly... just watched.”

Jimmy’s lips pressed into a thin line. “They’re all bastards.”

“Yeah,” you whispered.

For a moment, the two of you stayed like that—him leaning against the railing, you carefully dabbing antiseptic onto his wound. It stung, but Jimmy didn’t flinch.

“Why do you think they do it?” you asked quietly.

Jimmy let out a breathless laugh, dry and bitter. “Because they’re scared. Weak people hurt others so they don’t feel weak themselves. It’s pathetic.”

You nodded, your fingers lingering against his skin before pulling back. “All done.”

Jimmy studied you, his tired eyes softer now. “You should get some sleep.”

You gave a faint shake of your head. “Could say the same to you"

His lips twitched into a ghost of a smile.

“C’mon,” you said, grabbing the first aid kit and motioning with your head. “Let’s go to the storage bay. There’s an old blanket and a broken radio. Better than sitting out here.”

Jimmy hesitated before falling into step beside you. The Tulpar was dark as you walked together, your footsteps echoing through empty corridors.

The storage bay was cluttered with crates and dimly lit by a single flickering lightbulb. You dropped the first aid kit onto an overturned box and sat down on an old blanket spread over cold metal. Jimmy lowered himself beside you with a heavy sigh.

For a while, neither of you spoke. You just sat there, side by side, sharing the same fragile silence.

“You ever think about leaving?” Jimmy asked suddenly, his voice low.

“Leaving the Tulpar?” you asked.

“Yeah. Getting away from all this. Away from them.”

You thought about it—the idea of escaping, of breathing fresh air, of seeing sunlight instead of flickering LEDs. “Sometimes. But where would we go?”

“Anywhere but here,” Jimmy said, his voice cracking slightly.

You leaned your head on his shoulder, your exhaustion outweighing your hesitation. “If we ever get out of this... we’ll figure it out. Together.”

Jimmy froze for a moment before relaxing under your touch. His voice was barely above a whisper when he replied, “Yeah... together.”

Outside the storage bay, Curly barked orders while Anya and Daisuke laughed at someone else’s expense. But in this small corner of the ship, beneath the flickering light, you both just sat there together...

THNKS FOR READING!! REBLOGS W/COMMENTS IS APPRECIATED !! YOU CAN SUPPORT ME THROUGH MY KO-FI

[swee7dream]

dreamies as manhwa characters 𓍯𓂃𓏧♡

genres miscellaneous + headcanons triggers one mention of gagging (?) just to be safe . note purely for myself . i have no one to talk to about my 300+ reading list of shoujo manga/manhwa so you all get this .

mark lee (ᓀ‸ᓂ)

saebom from no office romance !

is it really mark lee-coded if it’s not (childhood) friends-to-lovers? exactly.

saebom and mark are walking green flags full of reasonable expectations, goofy mannerisms, and encouraging words even if it will not result in the best outcome for them personally

everyone loves them, it’s impossible to hate them!

even when their jokes are pity laugh-worthy with their loud barfing sounds and accidentally guilt-tripping gags

they mess up as all humans do but they always do their best to fix it as soon as possible to minimize damage.

they’re considerate of others but also (rightfully) proud of their work and aren’t shy to display it when the time is right. hashtag stream fraktsiya

huang renjun ૮ ˙Ⱉ˙ ა

cheol from after school lessons for unripe apples !

obviously i’m not thinking physically when i consider them similar.

but on the inside. on the inside… they are one.

they aren’t too open about their feelings. sometimes it feels like they don’t understand them themselves. and so they have a thin veil of mystique around them

it’s just nerves

they’re both just nervous guys who feel the need to protect everything at all times while also trying to hold back because, why should they? that’s not their job. they’re not getting paid for this.

but it’s just such an innate action on their part they just can’t help themselves !

they are responsible individuals who are just chaos magnets.

lee jeno ૮ .◜◡◝ა

zachary from a marriage of convenience !

men of little words. men of… easily misunderstandable words.

we’re not going to go into zachary’s story because if you haven’t read marriage of convenience i am on my knees begging you to

it’s easy to write them off as tsuns, especially with the way jeno treats jisung, but they’re NOT

they are such big lovers they will move heaven and earth for their loved ones and still be understanding if you ask for something else or more, even

they are well aware of their grand accomplishments, but also keep their eye fixed on their loved ones’ expectations, always making room for improvement

also… great physiques GUYS WHO SAID THAT TUMBLR BLOG SWEE7DREAM GOT HACKED GET THE NEWS REPORTERS

lee donghyuck ʕ˙Ⱉ˙‧:ʔ

kevin from spirit fingers !

specifically, more last arc kevin.

they’re silly, they’re clingy, they love their partner !!!!!!

the banter is always next level with them yet so are the dramatics and sulking.

their confidence is just attractive whether its romantic, platonic, whatever !

they know that no matter what they wear or if they have makeup on or not, their pretty privilege will cancel out the fact that there’s toilet paper clinging to the bottom of their shoes

their positivity is like a purifying beam to the people around them. their kind words and actions are done with the purpose to uplift the people around them.

you can’t have a low self-esteem around them, they are professional cheerleaders! hypemen! supporters!

how could you not love them?

na jaemin ଘ(੭ˊᵕˋ)੭

camute from the crow’s prince !

i was originally gonna put tamaki from ohshc but that’s like saying the sky is blue. we all know that, why beat a dead horse?

so, camute it is !

first of all, blond. they both eat up the hair color. blueprinted, invented, copywritten !

that aside, they are so open in communication it’s like you just got hit in the eyeball with a neobong with how much of a green flag they both are.

they won’t make you say anything you don’t want to say in the moment, but will make sure to get the point across that they expect to have a conversation about the subject in the near future because YOU ARE IMPORTANT TO THEM.

they’re also highly protective to the point it’s SILLAY. they’re a sulky kind of jealous not a ‘i will lock you up in a basement in an abandoned mansion on the top of a remote mountain for making eye contact with Frank From Work’ kind of jealous

jaemin on bbl… ‘my bag is heavy :(’ ‘oh ur gonna help me? WRONG ANSWER. NEVER TRUST ANY MAN.’

so true king 💯

zhong chenle (ᯟ︿ᯏ)

kahir from i’m the tyrant’s secretary !

‘you love me? duh, of course you do.’

very positive self-perception. nothing can tear this man down. except you, even though he’ll act otherwise.

has a different standard than everyone else from clothes and technology to relationships. to them, it’s easy to act as if money is no object, instead placing more effort into the people that they care about.

their thoughtful gifts are sometimes extravagant to the eyes of anyone aside from themselves, but they really have a different standard of what is considered acceptable, especially if it is something that is going to belong to their loved ones.

don’t you realize how their gifts are also a reflection of themselves? how could they gift anything less than perfect????

quick to cut out anyone that could even be THOUGHT of as a bad influence around their people, and they’ve already warned and cut ties with the person for the simple claim of Bad Vibes (they’re right most of the time it’s actually creepy)

park jisung (∩˃o˂∩)

nadrika from i have fallen into a reverse harem game !

they’re just so soggy wet dog coded

jisung is a five-time loser of the modern public ridicule that is awsaz. you can tell him to do anything and he will, red-faced and sighing the entire time, but he’ll do it

there is just something so ‘aww :(’ about him that makes the people around him go ‘I WILL PROTECT YOU’ at their 5’11 height

they’re either in their own little world, thinking about what life would be like if they lived in saturn rather than earth, or staring at you like painted each star that dots the night sky as you speak

they do not think twice before sacrificing their pride and reputation for the sake of their loved ones (even if it is not asked of them), too shy to ask for but also too obvious to hide the fact they are expecting praise and affection in return

soggy wet dogs that are like 300 pounds but still want to be treated like lap dogs

[rabbitofharmony]

.

[blueskittlesart]

deeply refreshing to see someone critical of Swift who also like, genuinely likes her. Like i'm neutral to positive on her, but the online discourse has been absolutely rancid. flipping between "Taylor Swift has never done anything wrong ever and she's a fucking genius" and "Taylor Swift is the worst lyricist of all time and also a bad person" is exhausting, so thank you for like. nuance or something lmao

not to make it serious for a sec but i genuinely think that being able to like things that are bad is really important. like I think that it's an important skill to be able to look at something and see what you personally enjoy about it and then take a step back and acknowledge that objectively it's flawed. and to also be able to acknowledge that liking something isn't necessarily an identity or a moral stance. and i think that fandom space in general could really benefit from more people taking the time to learn how to do that. it's okay to like things that are bad

[ahalliance]

American-validated Frenchge 🥖

transcript below

[Video Transcript begins:

[Video starts mid-sentence]

Etoiles: —and you put this face— next to the camera! Like this!

Foolish: (laughing) You’re so French!

Etoiles: I’m so French, that’s my main problem. Like I’m so French, I try sometimes to nerf myself and be like, less French

Etoiles: But that feels good to hear this because you say I’m so French and like, some racist people in France think I’m not because I’m Arabic too, so—

Foolish: Ohhhh

Etoiles: —that feels good too, you know

Foolish: No dude, you seem like a French ass French person—

Etoiles: (laughing)

Foolish: I don’t know how else to put it. Simply put

Etoiles: That feels good, man. I was saying hello to Tarik and all his chat was saying like Frenchge, the emote they are putting—

Foolish: Oh yeah

Etoiles: —the emote they are putting. Yeah, yeah, yeah

Video Transcript ends.]

[shannonsketches]

something something foils moving in opposite directions Goku's always happy to seek and fight stronger opponents because he spent most of his life being the strongest guy in the room and Vegeta wants to be the strongest/is always exhausted to find stronger opponents because he spent most of his life having to navigate his survival around the whims of the strongest guy in the universe room and so Goku has a foundation of safety and stability and so spends his time craving challenge and adventure and Vegeta has a foundation of challenge and adventure and spends his time craving safety and stability and the overlaid section of their venn diagram is that the only way they know how acquire and maintain those things is through battle

[gumm1defloor]

Personally speaking if I had to pick one rairpair out of the entire hellaverse to become canon it would be Velvette x Verosica but man it is going to be the most lavish, fluffy, intensely intimate, passionate, rancid & disastrous 24/7 trending full blown shitstorm hell has ever seen I don't think anyone is going to be ready. Not even these two. Dear god especially not these two.

Man Verosica is just 2 for 1 on short gremlin kings who are also coincidentally emotionally constipated walking talking sacks of untreated mental illness wrapped up in 3 layers of intimacy issues isn't she but hey at least this one's pretty much guaranteed never to steal your credit card for horse riding lessons and most definitely won't be caught one ring down in wrath in the middle of fuck knows where with said credit card so.... yay improvement?

[crescentfool]

ohh the joy of videos and streams... i like listening to people talk about things they like/think about it’s very contagious... 🥺

[miabrown007]

a minute of silence to my skills to estimate how long a project is ever going to take

[kellystar321]

.

[risingsunresistance]

if we're mutuals and i unfollow suddenly and you happen to take notice of it, please do not take it personally i still love my friends n whatnot i am just. getting very tired and need to cut down the mcyt content on my dash

and if i unfollow and refollow a couple times that is just me testing the waters jdhfj idk what i wanna do man i just have to do something for my mental health