therealvalkyrie

[therealvalkyrie]

Endlessly diabolical how you can't say words like rape and suicide uncensored without either being criticised by idiots or punished by conglomerates.

[therealvalkyrie]

everything is a horse if you are wrong about what things are

[therealvalkyrie]

LA 2 by Nikki Phillips 🔥

[therealvalkyrie]

two million people starving to death because it's geopolitically convenient and we're all expected to go about our day normally like the casual cruelty on display for the past two years has been so insane to me like i'm not even trying to make a point it's just truly something i can't wrap my mind around

[therealvalkyrie]

[therealvalkyrie]

What really gripped me first about Mansfield Park was how well Austen writes the feeling of being shy and quiet and getting bulldozed by everyone talking over and at you. And the special mortification of just wanting to sit there quietly and having people try to force you to talk and then completely misinterpreting your reactions.

[therealvalkyrie]

Will only say something if she is utterly convinced of its truth: Catherine Morland, Marianne Dashwood

Generally only says things she believes; will dissemble to be polite if necessary: Fanny Price, Anne Elliot, Elinor Dashwood

Will say something she doesn't believe for fun, will refuse to submit arguments in defense of it: Mary Crawford

Will say something she doesn't believe for fun, will submit a few playful arguments in defense of it: Elizabeth Bennet

Will say something she doesn't believe for fun, and will argue in defense of it with passion and energy and never ever admit that she didn't believe it to begin with. Actually she may have convinced herself by now: Emma Woodhouse

[therealvalkyrie]

Mansfield Park, Jane Austen

[therealvalkyrie]

You are DEAD longer than you are ALIVE And you aree WASTING IT by GIVING IN TO FEAR FEAR FEAR IS THE ENEMY

[therealvalkyrie]

my chemical ROMANCE

[therealvalkyrie]

283,000 likes………giant meteor strike the earth rn holy shit. oh my god.

[therealvalkyrie]

i don’t care what he’s doing rn he should be eating me out until I cry and beg him to stop

[therealvalkyrie]

they're hiring me at the extra virgin olive oil factory as the oathsworn knight who protects the chastity of the olives

[therealvalkyrie]

it’s not a big, grand gesture that brings osamu to his knees. nor is it some sudden epiphany, or a celestial voice breaking through the heavens to boom, “miya, you’re in love.”

osamu realizes he’s in love so slowly that he doesn’t actually realize it until the two of you are standing in the kitchen, and the walls are painted dill green, and there’s a mint plant on the windowsill and weird, abstract artwork on the counter — and you. you in all your bare-legged, white t-shirt, old cotton panties glory. you with your bedhead and hoarse morning voice, and him with his bleary eyes and spider-man boxers.

the night before, you’d yelled at him for forgetting to take out the trash, and he’d called you “insufferable” because he’d heard the word in a song once, and then you’d gasped and walked away and osamu had almost chased you — but he didn’t. “never leave a fight unresolved” his ass, he’d deal with it in the morning.

so he’d gone to bed, and then, well, then it was morning and he’d wakened with you in his arms, breathing softly and smelling like the mango-lavender shampoo you picked out together. and when your eyes cracked open and you grinned, osamu damn near forgot what the word “insufferable” even meant. “angelic” was more like it.

so now it’s 7:47 am and his cherub of a girl is pouring his coffee and stirring exactly a teaspoon and a half of sugar into it, and she’s blowing away the steam before sliding it across the counter, and osamu is realizing he’s in love. it’s a whisper in the back of his brain, soft but insistent, filling up the cracks and making a home in his heart. so when the clock strikes 8 and you’re pulling on your work clothes, when you’re ducking out the door, he grabs your arm.

“osamu?”

and there’s nothing he can do about it, because now he knows he’s in love.

so he says, “stay.”

and you do.

[therealvalkyrie]

[therealvalkyrie]

you feel love in the sodium

Pairing/setting: Pro-hero!Bakugou Katsuki x GN!Reader

Summary: Your pro-hero ex-boyfriend helps pull you out of a depressive episode.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: mentions of attempted suicide, suicidal ideation, nothing too graphic, angst to fluff

AN: Hi all, so I decided I’d post this now bc ngl I had kind of a shit day and need to feel as though something productive happened. It’s very self-indulgent and I’m not sure I quite have the target audience for it, but really? I don’t care. I hope you enjoy and that it maybe helps someone. Special thanks to @doinmybesthere​ for being my amazing editor for this fic! As always, don’t hesitate to drop into my DMs/askbox to chat:) Be kind to yourselves. ~valkyrie

US National Suicide Hotline: (800) 273-8255

sequel: when to cradle, when to pry

incredible art of the depression-cure dumplings by the one and only @/bluebellhairpin!!

The room is dark, curtains drawn against the bright afternoon sun, light switch untouched since yesterday. You’re curled up in bed under layers of blankets and sweaty pajamas— no underwear, though. You’d run out of clean pairs two days ago. It’s not sleep that’s kept you in bed, shaded against the world, but a haze of guilt and self loathing that’s coated your mind, the thickest it’s been in months. You can barely think through it, only shifting lazily to your other side whenever your arms fall asleep. It’s kinda nice, not thinking, not worrying, not feeling. The world is locked away. Or maybe you are. Either way, it doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

Well, that’s not completely true. Other people matter. To the world, to each other, to you. Deku matters. And Yaomomo and Ochaco. They matter so much it hurts, pain twisting in your gullet and punching its way out of you in the form of a sniffle stifled against your comforter. He matters, too, the niggling voice whispers in the back of your head. You mentally beat it back with a stick and lock it in a closet; a twisted application of techniques learned in therapy. They may matter to each other and to you and to the world, but you don’t matter. You’re simply there. And nothing would be different if you weren’t.

This thought echoes in your head for a while, finally settling into oblivion to leave your mind hazy once again. This is nice.

Keep reading

[therealvalkyrie]

idk if you care about mha anymore but this fic -> https://www.tumblr.com/heartsforkatsuki/783561853199695872/itll-be-okay-kbakugo beat for best plagiarizes your fic ‘you feel love in the sodium’ is this something that you gave permission for or did it just happen?

LMFAO

No I did not approve that at all. Thanks for bringing it to my attention. I’ll message that user and see if we can talk it out.