#but I just feel strongly about all of this
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Things Batmom has said:
“Keep your father out of the kitchen, I’ll be back by morning.”
“We’ll if it isn’t the consequences of your own actions”
“It means you can either drive yourself home or I’ll have Alfred come get you.”
“Look at my handsome boys growing into fine gentlemen.”
“Stay safe, I love you”
“Eyes open, baby birds.”
“Alfred and I made food for the week, it’s in the fridge” *punch* “Your running shoes are on the left side of the closet” *kicks* “Make sure his project is done tonight, it’s due tomorrow.”
“I’m going to let you fix it, because if I fix it I’m going to jail.”
“It’s called,” she raises one fist “fuck around,” then she raises her other fist, “and find out.”
“You don’t even know me, you don’t even know my real name…” she leans in with harden eyes yet calm features, “I’m the fuckin boogie man”
“Do not play with me, I am not the one, two, or the three.”
“Don’t kill him.” //“I’m sorry but who’s the one tied up here?” //“Darling—“// “Because the way I see it, it’ll be in self defense.”
“Just one leg.” “No” “Both legs?” “No!” “You’re right….I’ll go for their kneecap.”
“So…you’ve chosen to disobey me.”
“Alright now…don’t write a check you can’t cash.”
“I’m sorry, what did you say? I couldn’t hear you because of your tone of voice.” She leans in with a hand cupping her ear to encourage a second chance.
“Do I look like booboo the fool?!”
“Brilliant.”
“As mad as I am, I can’t let you shoot him.”// “Just this once?” //“No.” //“I’ll go for the knees. Nothing vital.” //“Hhgh.”
“You really hit the nail on the head with that one Batman.”
“And WHO do you think you’re taking to?”
“Don’t tell your father.”
“Be home by 10, or I start looking windows.”
“I’m so very proud of you!”
“A girl’s gotta be prepared.”
“You know…about the whole guns thing, I’m still not so sure I feel as strongly as you do.”
“Way to go, Bruce.”
“Touch my child, I dare you. Make my day.”
“Ahh…Motherhood.”
—————————————————————————
Heyyyyyyy hotties I’m backkkkkkk. Send me asks and requests as I’m easing my way back into things. It might take me a while to find my flow and writing style so bear with me please. I missed you all so much honestly.
#batman imagine#batman x black!reader#batfamily x reader#black!batmom#black!reader#batfamily#batboys#batboys x batmom#bruce wayne imagine#batmom#bruce x reader#batkids#bruce wayne x poc!reader#bruce wayne x y/n#bruce wayne x black!reader#bruce wayne x batmom#bruce wayne x you#bruce wayne#bruce wayne x reader#batman x you#batboys x reader#batman x reader#batman#batman x batmom#batfamily x batmom#batman x y/n#batboys x black!batmom#batfamily x black!reader#batboys x black!reader
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Heyy, I was thinking about a concept with Fyodor (or whoever from BSD) having a streamer bf, but like, one of -those- streamers where every word they say can be quite questionable (in a “good” way/ironically). For some reason it amuses me to imagine it with Fyodor and Reader occasionally teasing him, calling him their ‘discord kitten’ or streaming for 5 hours (or more lol) saying nonsenses or playing video games instead of paying attention to Fyodor. What do you think?
“Get Off The Game ♡˖” BSD x GN!Reader ੈ✩‧₊˚
╰┈➤ Fyodor Dostoevsky, Dazai Osamu
Warnings;
Description; BSD men with a streamer!reader
A/n; these are in headcannon form, I hope that's alright!!! I think Dazai or Nikolai would be a better person to have this occupation w so I also did headcannons for one of them
Fyodor Dostoevsky ★
• Fyodor thinks it's stupid at first, but when he realized you made money from it he learned to tolerate it. He wasn't too fond of the noise, though.
• I don't think he was too fond of the nickname 'discord kitten', always raising an eyebrow when he's called that, he also strongly dislikes brainrot cause what do you mean you're so sigma? No you're not, you're y/n. That's unrelated, but I thought I'd add that in there.
• "A discord what? Kitten? What even is that? I am nothing of the such."
• Catch him dead before he makes an appearance on camera, he much prefers to keep his business private. He doesn't mind you talking about him though, he loves that. He loves that people know you're already taken by him and that all those losers in your chat don't have a chance with you.
• Sometimes he'll watch your streams from a different room in attempt to understand your work and the art of gaming. He enjoys when you play horror games, especially the ones that get you thinking. He sometimes finds your facial expressions when you get jumpscared funnier than anything else in the stream.
• When it comes to the duration of your streams, Fyodor can entertain himself for as long as you need him to, but he can't help but feel like he'd rather be spending that time with you every now and again.
• He usually just takes the time to work on his DOA stuff, and occasionally he'll get so lost in it that he doesn't even realized you've finished with your stream and on whenever that happens, you make some tea and go to fetch him to spend some quality time together, whether it's you laying in his lap while you both read a book or having a conversation about whatever comes to mind
Dazai Osamu ★
• Dazai is your #1 supporter since day one. There's a conversation going on about content creators? He's immediately bringing you up. You need new items for your set up? He's manifesting that said items go on sale ASAP!
• Oh my god, and he LOVES it when you get recognized in public. He's very prideful of you and likes that it's only him and a select group of people that get to see the real you outside of the camera frame.
• He, unlike Fyodor, does have an issue with the long hours, so he busies himself with the ADA and otherwise to keep himself from walking in and talking your ear off while you play your games for umpteen thousand people.
• He doesn't despise being called a discord kitten, but it does confuse him a little bit. But whatever, as long as you have 'my' in front of any name he doesn't care.
• Dazai watches your old streams when he's bored and can't help but giggle at the out of pocket or questionable things you say. He likes to watch the compilations of you on YouTube, too.
• Sometimes he'll quote you out of the blue.
• He doesn't like people trying to flirt with you or talk to you on the Internet as any partner wouldn't, so he is in the comment section of every post reading through individual comments. Type guy to see '❤️🔥❤️🔥❤️🔥' comments on your posts and reply '🧯🧯🧯'
• All in all, Dazai is well received by your fanbase, especially the ones who don't try to romance you and are normal. They think he's funny and a good match for you.
A/n; I hope it wasn't to short!!! I thought it was a cutsey idea, I think Nikolai would be pretty similar to Dazai in this scemario.
#bungo stray dogs#bsd#bungou stray dogs#bsd x reader#bsd fanfic#bsd headcanons#fanfic#fanfiction#bsd fyodor#fyodor x reader#bungo stray dogs fyodor#bungou stray dogs fyodor#fyodor bsd#fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor dostoyevsky bsd#fyodor x you#fyodor x y/n#dostoevsky bsd#bsd fyodor dostoevsky#fyodor#osamu dazai x you#dazai osamu x reader#osamu dazai x reader#bsd dazai osamu#dazai osamu#dazai bungou stray dogs#bsd dazai#bungou stray dogs dazai#dazai x reader#dazai osamu x you
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@kirbyoctournament
Introducing to you all,the only one and unique....
Personality
She is extremely calm, she never seems to be bothered by anything, she is kind as much as she can be capable of saying something cruel, like life itself is, she always seems patient, because for her anything is ephemeral, even herself, but she will always be open to a conversation, she will advise you and will try to give her point of view about herself, always in a respectful manner.
Powers
Life is ironically capable of taking life from other beings, to reincarnate them into a new being with her mere hands, usually looking like butterflies like her first daughter Morpho Knight.
She is capable to cast divine-looking lights,usually looks like a swarm of butterflies, although she won't attack in 99,9% of the times but the hundreds of her children will defend her.
Its mere presence is calming but its true form is unknown to common sense and if someone dared to see the beauty of life in its entirety, the impact it would have on your consciousness would be devastating, but with it, who knows, maybe it would be able to restore the unimaginable at the cost of resting for eons.
Life is capable of teleporting to any place in any universe, she never chooses a specific place, it enjoys walking and you can see her in the most beautiful fields of flowers or in the cruelest wars, you can consider yourself lucky to witness her, because it is practically a miracle.
And never mess with something beyond your comprehension cause only death can end all what she is.
Canon characters she knows or knows that exist
Morpho
Her first daughter, before it was a different being who arrived by unknown means to the dimension of Life, she begged her not to send her to the afterlife, she didn't want that, the pain was so inmense due to her cruel Life that she just begged to stop existing, life, on the other hand, did something different and used its power for the first time in what became a being, completely new and at peace,Morpho has an unbreakable loyalty towards the being she now calls "mother"
Necrodeus
"Someone I loved? Or do i still love?"
The void
A being from the void reemerges from the heart, all always in a different way like Kirby or Zero himself, as if they were children yet to determine their destiny inside their mother or heart in this case, Life does not know them directly, it only knows that they exist and for some reason, she loves them, she feels a maternal sensation as if all those beings had been part of her at some point, although she can't explain why.
Lore
[this part might not be that extense but cropping to not cluster everything,enjoy💖]
Once life was reborn, but before that, there was a life before, yes, a time when everything was different.
Once there was a woman in whom a new life was generated inside her, all on her wedding day on an now unknown place, butterflies fluttering, next to her pure white bone dress, walking towards who would be her husband, everything was complete happiness everything seemed to never end but...
At one point, when the husband was about to put the ring on the lady that would seal their love, something trembled and out of nowhere, everything broke into stardust, in the last seconds of pain and confusion, the lovers did not know that it was the end of everything known and unknown.
Life had died.
Or was it really like that?
Life woke up once again from...a dream? A nightmare? What was that even? Where was she now?
Is life really itself? She felt a pain that would gradually fade away along with the memory of what happened, at the same time another figure,the death itself also woke up where they were, they both looked at each other, they had never seen each other... like this?
But still they both felt a sense of nostalgia, something empty in them throbbed strongly, while memories of... themselves? or something that seemed like the they that they are now joined in their confused memories
" know you."
"But who were you?"
"Were we them? But who were we supposed to be?"
"Now, what are we?"
They both said, but neither could give an accurate answer.
And it didn't matter anymore.
A new everything emerged from nothing and they were part of that everything.
Life and death separated each one on their own for a long time searching, trying to know what they had to do, what it all meant, who those beings were.
until, one day after eons they met again to conclude that everything was nothing.
Nothing had meaning other than existing.
Nothing they could have experienced was eternal, they both came to the conclusion that everything would die to become a new whole again.
From their past memories they concluded that this was just a new phase in an eternal cycle without explanation, in which life would return only for death itself in its last seconds to kill her so that all of life would re-emerge as a new one when it was about to end and NEVER be the same as before.
And that couple, it may or may not have been them, it didn't matter, because they are no longer those entities and this will happen again and again, they are merely a new version of themselves of those they were and will be in the future.
It didn't make sense, nor did they both want that cruel fate, it's confusing, it's unfair,death even cried out of mere frustration.
But there was no escape, no being could escape it.
After this, now both beings try to find a filling for the void in their hearts, death wandering throught any universe and cursing "the all" for this meaninglessness, while life, still almost always remaining in her own dimension, a blank world that is in everywhere and nowhere, sometimes descends to any world that reaches the imagination wandering through them to perhaps find her own the meaning of life.
#kirby oc#shippysillyart#fanart#kirby#kirbyoctournament#kirby art#necrodeus#morpho knight#zero#void termina#the void#kirby fanart#life oc#kirby oc (life)
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I've been thinking a lot lately about how Kabru deprives himself.
Kabru as a character is intertwined with the idea that sometimes we have to sacrifice the needs of the few for the good of the many. He ultimately subverts this first by sabotaging the Canaries and then by letting Laios go, but in practice he's already been living a life of self-sacrifice.
Saving people, and learning the secrets of the dungeons to seal them, are what's important. Not his own comforts. Not his own desires. He forces them down until he doesn't know they're there, until one of them has to come spilling out during the confession in chapter 76.
Specifically, I think it's very significant, in a story about food and all that it entails, that Kabru is rarely shown eating. He's the deuteragonist of Dungeon Meshi, the cooking manga, but while meals are the anchoring points of Laios's journey, given loving focus, for Kabru, they're ... not.
I'm sure he eats during dungeon expeditions, in the routine way that adventurers must when they sit down to camp. But on the surface, you get the idea that Kabru spends most of his time doing his self-assigned dungeon-related tasks: meeting with people, studying them, putting together that evidence board, researching the dungeon, god knows what else. Feeding himself is secondary.
He's introduced during a meal, eating at a restaurant, just to set up the contrast between his party and Laios's. And it's the last normal meal we see him eating until the communal ending feast (if you consider Falin's dragon parts normal).
First, we get this:
Kabru's response here is such a non-answer, it strongly implies to me that he wasn't thinking about it until Rin brought it up. That he might not even be feeling the hunger signals that he logically knew he should.
They sit down to eat, but Kabru is never drawn reaching for food or eating it like the rest of his party. He only drinks.
It's possible this means nothing, that we can just assume he's putting food in his mouth off-panel, but again, this entire manga is about food. Cooking it, eating it, appreciating it, taking pleasure in it, grounding yourself in the necessary routine of it and affirming your right to live by consuming it. It's given such a huge focus.
We don't see him eat again until the harpy egg.
What a significant question for the protagonist to ask his foil in this story about eating! Aren't you hungry? Aren't you, Kabru?
He was revived only minutes ago after a violent encounter. And then he chokes down food that causes him further harm by triggering him, all because he's so determined to stay in Laios's good graces.
In his flashback, we see Milsiril trying to spoon-feed young Kabru cake that we know he doesn't like. He doesn't want to eat: he wants to be training.
Then with Mithrun, we see him eating the least-monstery monster food he can get his hands on, for the sake of survival- walking mushroom, barometz, an egg. The barometz is his first chance to make something like an a real meal, and he actually seems excited about it because he wants to replicate a lamb dish his mother used to make him!
...but he doesn't get to enjoy it like he wanted to.
Then, when all the Canaries are eating field rations ... Kabru still isn't shown eating. He's only shown giving food to Mithrun.
And of course the next time he eats is the bavarois, which for his sake is at least plant based ... but he still has to use a coping mechanism to get through it.
I don't think Kabru does this all on purpose. I think Kui does this all on purpose. Kabru's Post Traumatic Stress Disorder should be understood as informing his character just as much as Laios's autism informs his. It's another way that Kabru and Laios act as foils: where Laios takes pleasure in meals and approaches food with the excitement of discovery, Kabru's experiences with eating are tainted by his trauma. Laios indulges; Kabru denies himself. Laios is shown enjoying food, Kabru is shown struggling with it.
And I can very easily imagine a reason why Kabru might have a subconscious aversion towards eating.
Meals are the privilege of the living.
#Dungeon Meshi#Delicious in Dungeon#Kabru#Kabru of Utaya#Laios Touden#Dungeon Meshi meta#you can have him in the tags too. as a treat.#Dungeon Meshi spoilers#this was directly inspired by livelaughlaios's post about Kabru self harming but I decided it got too long to make it a direct reply#this is a theory I've been working on for weeks because I kept noticing this while skimming for screencaps#I'm hesitant to trigger tag this because of the way certain subcultures on tumblr operate#but if anyone needs me to add a content warning please let me know#also I included image descriptions! I did my best#I think they even help illustrate my points but my god were they sad to write. Kabru is so fucking sad you guys#musings with Dea
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Holy shit?!
src
“Louis is still fighting to get to something, to unlock the memories that have curiously evaded him. "The pursuit of memory and truth is the driving force this season. It motivates Louis to get to where we're going to get to by the end of it," said Zaman. "Season 1 proved that his memory's completely shot in lots of ways, but who, or what, did that — that's the question I think we're going to have to answer."…
“It all begins with Louis, a textbook unreliable narrator, though Jones and Anderson both bristle a bit at the term. "One self delusion knits itself to the rest of your life," Jones said. He argued that Louis' memory might be "80-90 percent" correct, though it only takes one mistaken detail to muddle a timeline and cancel someone out entirely. "To unwind that, you call into question all this stuff. It doesn't mean that all this stuff isn't right. It's just this thing has altered it a little bit."
…
To Anderson, Louis' unreliability matters less than the vivid reality of his feelings. "It's not necessarily that Louis is a quote-unquote unreliable narrator," he said. "He is, because what he's saying is completely subjective. But I think it has just as much to do with how something felt, the feeling of a person or the feeling of an experience, than it is him actively trying to deceive anybody." That comes out most strongly in Dubai, particularly in the second season. "He's really, genuinely trying to find the closest thing to an objective recalling of events that he possibly can."…
“I like writing for Sam Reid, and I think in terms of how this thing is structured and what's going on in this headspace, it wasn't a big leap to go, 'Oh, he's haunting. He's inside Louis,'" Jones said. When we see Lestat at the beginning of the season, he manifests as what Anderson and Reid referred to as "dream Lestat" — not quite himself, not quite a ghost, not quite a memory, but some blend of all three, filtered through Louis' guilt and grief.
…
"Who is Louis remembering, and how is Louis remembering [Lestat] is always on my mind," said Reid when we first spoke at the Television Critics Association winter press tour in February. "I'm always thinking about it, and I'm always talking about it, much to the chagrin of pretty much everyone." (From across the table we were crowded around, Anderson heckled, "I can vouch for that.") Later, when we met one on one over Zoom, Reid elaborated, "Louis is speaking to himself, so he speaks like Louis. But he's also speaking to Lestat, and he's choosing to speak to Lestat when he's speaking to himself." The first time we see Lestat in Season 2, he materializes before Louis as a gory vision during a moment of mental deterioration, vengeful and overbearingly loving all at once. What was already a blurry line between the ex-lovers has now become indistinguishable.“…
“With dream Lestat assuming a number of dispositions, all dictated by Louis' headspace, separating dream Lestat from the real Lestat was crucial to Reid. "It's clear that Louis is putting the words into his mouth," Reid said. "Who's the guy that he's forced to see looking back at him, saying the words that he thinks he should be saying?" The presence of dream Lestat means that the state of the real Lestat is unclear when the season opens, but becoming this slightly unreal version of his character built on the groundwork Reid had already been laying. Going back to the first season, he often rejected Anderson's impulse to play their scenes together as if they were true. "I know this is not how this happened," he said of Louis' version of events, "which allowed me to kind of lean into the more sow's ear version of Lestat in specific moments, because I knew that we might be revisiting them."…
“For Claudia, Lestat's influence will always linger. "That's his daughter," Hayles said simply. "He doesn't need to be a ghost. He's in her." Louis and Claudia know each other inside and out, and Louis' love for Claudia is all-encompassing, but she sees the writing on the wall the moment he meets Armand: What happened with Lestat will happen again as Louis chooses another man over her.“
(much more behind the link!!)
UPDATE: link to the author’s tweet, Allison Picurro
#tv guide#interview#sam reid#jacob anderson#delainey hayles#assad zaman#eric bogosian#interview with the vampire#iwtv#amc iwtv#amc interview with the vampire#iwtv amc#rolin jones
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When they realize they’re in love - Geto Suguru
How I imagine the boys get hit with the realization that they love you. This one is for Suguru, but I eventually will do the others <3
Pairing: Geto Suguru x reader
Tags: Fluff, mentions of/implied depression
It was a few months ago when it all started. You came to him randomly one day, greeting him with a soft knock on his door before he allowed you in. He remembers almost ignoring the quiet tap tap tap but couldn’t bring himself to when he heard your angelic, timid voice. It was so unlike you to be so nervous, and despite the turmoil he was going through, he was worried.
You walked through his doors, nervously shuffling your feet as you avoided his gaze. You seemed so nervous, and he had no idea what until your words took him by surprise.
“Can… Can we cuddle? I’ve been feeling bad lately and I don’t know… if it’s okay, of course.”
How could he have refused you back then? With your cheeks a little red and shyly glancing up at him? And when he asked why him, why not Satoru, you scoffed, as if he offended you by the mere suggestion. Then you told him that you felt safe with him, and you knew he wouldn’t tease you about it or hold it against you, and he couldn’t argue with that.
It quickly became routine for the two of you to cuddle throughout the day. Any time the both of you weren’t on a mission, you were in his arms. At first, he thought he would be bothered by it, but you never spoke. You never made light conversation. The two of you enjoyed each other's company in a silent embrace. And while he was only doing it for you, a part of him needed it too after everything.
He tried not to think about it too much.
Then came the nightmares. You told him lately you’ve been having nightmares, and asked if you could stay with him. Again, how could he say no? You were on par with Satoru when it came to importance, the two of you one half to make him whole - he, himself, just an empty husk.
That was an immediate change. The first time he had you wrapped in his arms, softly breathing into his collarbone while he rested his face on the top of your hair, breathing in your sweet shampoo, it was over. He was grateful you felt the same since you came to his room on your own accord every night without him ever having to ask. Not that he would have, which is all the more reason to be grateful for you.
Part of him had been worried for you. You never spoke about what was wrong. You held yourself well, never seeming like anything was going on. Unlike him, who he felt was obvious he was falling apart by the dark circles under his eyes. You made everything more bearable, but it didn’t fix it.
At least until one night, when he thought he would have an overnight mission. He rarely did those anymore because he worried for you (and he selfishly didn’t want to sleep without you either). He managed to get through the mission a lot faster than he thought, and he came to the dorms a little before midnight. You claim that you can’t sleep without him, so he was surprised to find you snuggled up in bed and resting peacefully.
He decided he didn’t want to disturb you and left to go back to his quiet room that still smelled strongly of you. It felt so empty without you, but who was he to disturb you when you finally were able to sleep on your own? He knew eventually you would, and so he got a very, very restless sleep that night.
It wasn’t until earlier this morning he was hit with a strange realization. You’ve been lying.
It wasn’t serious or anything. You greeted him happily, surprised to see him, and told him that you missed him last night, then casually spoke about how you could barely sleep without him. You seemed pretty peaceful last night to him. You could’ve easily woken up later through the night, it wasn’t like he stood there watching you. However, maybe it was just his gut, or maybe he was just a suspicious person in general, but something told him to question you further.
He asked when you fell asleep, and you said you didn’t get any sleep until way past midnight.
He wasn’t mad necessarily. Just… confused? Perplexed? Because why lie? He later asked Shoko about your nightmares, because while you didn’t tell him things, he knew you talked to Shoko. She had no idea what he was talking about. To be fair, maybe you just didn’t talk to her either, but he highly doubted it.
So now here the two of you are, silently enjoying each other again while he tries to decipher your actions. When the two of you first started cuddling, you had been the little spoon. Somewhere along the way, you claimed that being the big spoon made you feel better. That having him lay across your chest made you feel safe, but getting to hold him and run your fingers through his hair made you feel a little less weak. Like you were protecting him. He didn’t argue with your logic, happy to oblige to anything you wanted.
So that’s how the two of you are currently; you resting against the headboard of his bed with him draped on top of you. Usually, you’d be lying on the bed with his face resting against your collarbone, but today you were in a sitting position and he was laying on his back with hush head on your lap. He was staring up at you, trying to figure you out, while you lazily ran your fingers through his hair. You’re reading a book, but you glance over it to peer down at him.
“Something on your mind?” You ask, gently pushing a strand of his hair out of his face and down with the rest of his hair.
“You don’t have nightmares, do you?” He blurts out. He didn’t mean to ask that, a part of him that he tried to ignore was scared it would all end.
You froze, your hand going stiff against his face. You stare down at him with big doe eyes, and he wonders if you would try to deny it. After a moment, you close the book you’re reading and set it aside with a sigh.
“No I don’t…”
Just like he thought. So why? Why did you tell him those excuses? It wasn’t like he was mad, but why? Before he could ask, you beat him to it.
“Please don’t be mad, I just… you’ve seemed so tired. So… gone. And anytime I tried to talk to you about it, you shut me out. And I had a feeling that I’d I asked if you needed a hug, you’d say no… so I told you I needed it instead.”
It all clicked then. He remembers the way you constantly tried to check on him. How he would always brush off your concerns, tell you ‘I’m fine’ and wave you away. It wasn’t long after that you came to him with a bad day.
It makes sense now. The way you never seemed sad. The reason why you asked to be a big spoon. How you only talked when he talked. Why you always brought his favorite snacks, and always cleaned up after - because you knew he was too depressed to keep his room clean.
You told him keeping it clean made you feel better. You told him doing laundry took your mind off things. You said you liked to cuddle in a well-made bed. It suddenly all clicked into place.
You weren’t trying to feel better and keep your mind off things. You've been taking care of him, and you had somehow convinced him that he was taking care of you.
You had been rambling for a moment now, and he vaguely heard you try to explain yourself and apologize, asking him to please not be mad. His heart was pounding so loudly that he could barely understand what you were saying. All he knew was that you looked so pretty like that; feeling guilty that you tricked him just so you could take care of him. Not because he asked. Not because you needed to. Because you wanted to. He could feel a strong prickling sensation at the corner of his eyes, his heart squeezing in his chest while the sensation of butterflies overtook his stomach - something he hadn’t felt before.
He quickly picks himself up from your lap, and you weakly protest against it, afraid that he is mad at you. Instead, he flips himself over so he is no longer on his back but instead his chest facing you. He grabs your waist, gently but firmly yanking you down into a lying position. You yelp his name in surprise, but he ignores you to instead bury his face into the nook of your shoulder. He wraps his arms around you, and he squeezes you tightly for a moment. Your arms linger above him, almost like you’re suddenly afraid to touch him.
“Can we keep doing this?” He asks, and he hates the way his voice almost cracks. He knows you could probably feel the slowly growing wetness seeping through your shirt, unable to stop the tears he’s been denying for so long. He doesn’t know why he suddenly feels so small, so broken. He knows he’s been this way for a while, but he never allowed himself to feel it like this.
Then your arms were around him again, running a comforting hand up and down his back. He accepts that it’s for him this time, and suddenly it feels so much more significant. He’s always appreciated you doing this deep down, but now? Now it feels almost healing.
“Of course. For as long as you need, Suguru. You’re not alone,” you whisper softly to him. You bury your face into his hair, and his heart leaps when you press a fleeting kiss to his soft strands.
“…And if I need you forever?” He was hesitant to say that. He’s not sure if he’s always felt this way and his emotions have just been clouding his feelings, or if the realization of how much you care about him made them suddenly appear, but saying that made it feel a little too real.
Because, fuck, he loves you.
You were quiet for a moment, and he was okay with that. Even if you didn’t care about him the way he realized he cared about you, that was fine. As long as you were near. You squeeze him a little tighter.
“I can only hope,” you mumble into his hair, and he can’t help the weak smile against your shoulder.
Maybe he would be okay. When he is, he’s going to ask you on a date.
#geto suguru#jjk x reader#jjk x you#jujutsu kaisen#geto x reader#getou suguru x reader#jjk fluff#fluff
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Só quero ir para casa, para ti [rd]
Author’s note: my best friend described this as “disgustingly cute”, so here you have some cute dad!Rúben to compensate for the last one 🫣 thank you to the anon who requested this, hope you enjoy it! Mwah mwah
wc: 1601- English is not my first language! Feedback is always appreciated
Rúben absolutely hates being far from you, especially now that you’re pregnant with your second baby.
He is currently in Abu Dhabi with the team, preparing the upcoming season. Not only is he 4 hours ahead in the clock, he is also full of trainings and recovery sessions - leaving him so little time to talk to you.
You are now five months pregnant and your baby is starting to kick and move like crazy inside of you. You try your best to show everything to Rúben, not wanting him to feel left out for losing all these special moments. But, you both agree that video calls might help a bit to ease the sadness of being away from each other, but those minutes don’t really make up from all the time that Rúben spends without his wife, daughter and son.
Every time he looks at you through his phone screen, he can’t help but think how beautiful you look, the pregnancy glow really showing again - more and more each day now. He misses you like crazy, even just a couple of hours would already be too much time away from you and your family, but spending weeks so far is killing him already.
He especially misses sleeping next to your belly, wanting to feel as close to his boy as possible, while Matilde is wrapped strongly in his arms. He misses the way you would laugh when he peppered your belly with kisses. He misses talking to his children - having full conversations about every thing and anything at the same time, really. Always promising his entire love and dedication to the other love of his life, his baby - Dinis.
Rúben has been sad lately, thinking non-stop about all the times you call him, or send him videos of his son moving inside your belly. He hasn’t felt it yet. Every single time the baby decides to move, he’s not around, and when he is, Dinis decides to keep quiet.
“Maybe he is just shy. He’ll move for you when he feels like it, we can’t rush these things” - you would always say to him, trying to get a bit of all the guilt Rúben held upon his shoulders to go away. Why wouldn’t the light of his life kick for him? He even smiled at the first time you told him in between laughs ‘he’s not kicking because he’s afraid that you’ll tackle him’. Yeah, jokes about him being a footballer and his son not kicking around him.
But lately he has been feeling down, his mind thinking about that all the time. What if his baby gets here and doesn’t feel comfortable enough around him? He would always move to the sound of her mom’s voice, but not to his. Matilde was a very active baby, always moving and kicking to the sound of her dad’s voice - totally a daddy’s girl, still today being always glued to him, playing him with, sleeping with him, cuddling with him.
Either way, Rúben is tired, missing you, his princess and his baby. You are video chatting once again, him seeing how his boy’s tiny feet would mark your belly and talking to his princess, Matilde. He tries to smile, glad to see his baby moving once again, even if he’s not there to feel the sensation.
You can sense that he is a little down, but you try to shrug it off since he said he was feeling tired and sleepy.
“Tenho tantas saudades vossas” (I miss you so much) - he says lowly, like his voice is threatening to start shaking if he speaks any louder.
You smile, understanding why he is so down. “We miss you too” - you say to your husband, noticing how his face falls.
However, the voice of his angel on earth brings a smile to appear on Rúben’s face. “Volta rápido, papá” (come back soon, daddy) - Matilde says, showing his daddy her newest growing teeth, that has been giving her mommy so much trouble and sleepless nights.
“Eu já só quero ir para casa, para vocês” (I just want to go home, to you) - by the way he is talking portuguese to you, you know he really means it. He takes the value of saudade very seriously, no translation can do that feeling justice.
Rúben goes to sleep with a headache. Maybe he should stop pushing his baby, stop begging him to kick into his hand. Maybe he should go back home with a different mindset. Trying to fight some kind of war with his son really sounds crazy to him, and he kind of hates himself for being so annoyed about something so trivial as that.
When he finally goes home, after so many weeks apart, you and Matilde are waiting home to greet him, you even cooked your daughter’s favourite cake - she insisted so she could share it with her daddy on their usual tea party, something that has became a tradition between Rúben and her already.
Berny the bunny and Johnny the bear are patiently waiting on the three year old girl’s lap for her most important guest to arrive - the little girl anxiously setting every thing up.
When you hear the door handle click open, Matilde immediately runs to the door.
“Papá, papá! You’re home!” - she girl screams as Rúben immediately picks her up and wraps her on his arms, taking in the wonderful and unmistakable scent of his daughter, breathing deeply and hugging her tightly, scared that she would run away if he puts her down - but she would never run away, she loves her daddy more than anything in this world, his embrace is her favourite place to be. The little girl wraps her tiny arms around her daddy’s neck even tighter, telling him how much she loves him and how much she missed him every day that he was away.
That alone made some tears appear in Rúben’s eyes, walking with his princess still in his arms, going to greet you with a passionate kiss, missing you like death. His hand instinctively goes to your belly - nothing happened. But Rúben is not going to worry about that anymore. He has his family by his side again, and that’s all that matters to him.
After the tea party with Matilde and a small family dinner, the little girl was already fast asleep on her father’s chest - never letting go of him since he arrived, and Rúben silently thanked her for that, really in need to feel his light near him as well, begging her to illuminate him a little more. Which she does, all the time, even if she doesn’t realise it. Rúben is already feeling lighter, being home near you and his babies helping him a lot with his mood.
After putting your sleepy daughter in her room, you and Rúben finally have some time to yourselves. He immediately wraps you in his arms, cuddling you close to him, hugging you and kissing your neck, face, shoulder, anywhere he could reach.
“Amo-te tanto” (I love you so much) - Rúben softly speaks in your ear, making your heart tingle like it’s the first time he is saying those words to you.
“We love you too” - you smile as you grab his hands that were already touching your belly, massaging your baby boy now.
Rúben smiles and tries his best to not think about the kicking topic.
“Is my boy behaving? Hope you’re not giving mommy much trouble already” - he speaks softly to his son, with a smile on his face.
When those words leave his mouth, Rúben’s hand feels a light kick. His face shows a shocked expression, not really believing what’s happening.
“What was this? This wasn’t a kick, right?” - he asks you, his mouth still agape at the feeling. You laugh at his reaction.
“Yes, it’s a kick, babe. Our son is answering your question” - you kiss the shock out of his face.
“Are you, filho? Are you answering daddy?” - Rúben keeps talking to the baby, hoping that he would keep kicking, amazed at the feeling of his baby’s kick for the first time.
Dinis kicks two more times, harder now at the sound of his dad’s voice, and Rúben’s eyes are full of tears, all the emotion and happiness falling down his face already.
“I can’t believe he’s finally kicking to me” - he says, more to himself.
“He loves you so much, never doubt that” - you reassure him.
“Oh god, I love you so much, Dinis. Dad will always be by your side, to play football with you, to teach you everything about space and astronauts, to take care of you and lead you the way” - he confesses while hugging you tightly now.
Rúben knows how badly you wanted this to happen, just as much as him. And he’s not a religious man, but it’s like he could feel all your prayers on him now, feeling such a powerful love wrapping your hearts, feeling extremely grateful for you, for being such a supportive wife and for bringing to life his biggest dream, the biggest loves of his life, his babies.
When you’re together, everything feels better to him, he’s only happy when he is holding his wife and daughter strongly in his arm - and now you are preparing your family for another beautiful adventure, almost welcoming your baby boy into this world - soon to be Rúben and Matilde’s best friend.
#dad!ruben#ruben dias x you#ruben dias oneshot#ruben dias fanfiction#ruben dias fic#ruben dias fanfic#ruben dias x reader#ruben dias imagine#ruben dias#thoughts about ruben#thoughts about football players#football imagines#football fanfic
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languages, travel, identity, grief
Maybe some of you have heard of Xu Zhimo's Second Farewell to Cambridge (徐志摩 再別康橋 Translation: Saying Goodbye to Cambridge Again, by Xu Zhimo | East Asia Student). It's an achingly lovely poem about a Chinese scholar who studied in the UK, and how he left so gently, taking nothing with him as he went. It brought me solace over the last year.
I thought for a very long time about how I felt about having to leave China, and what it felt like to mourn for a future that was never going to mine. I cried. How am I supposed to explain why? I'm not Chinese. I've got no family there, or a childhood to look back on. I couldn't explain it even to myself.
That pain was coupled with a type of uncertainty, a discomfort at myself for feeling so strongly. This feeling was not allowed. It meant - what? Something awful, probably. I was a racist, probably. I should hate myself, probably. Fetishization is the word that gets thrown around for white people and their time spent in East Asia at one end of the spectrum - at the other end it's just seen as embarrassing and deeply, you know, cringe. It's a self-interrogation - why do I feel so sad? Why do I feel this pull so strongly anyway, to a country that's not even mine? Why should it matter so much when I leave? I didn't feel like this grief has any sort of legitimacy. But it has taken from September - eight months after leaving - for me to pick up Chinese again.
I felt, for months, hollow and unsettled and drifting from place to place. I opened my textbook, and closed it again. The memories there were too painful. I'm not going to write about why I had to leave, but it wasn't by choice. I had loved the people in the school, even if it was for a short time. When you have no internet and are training eight hours a day, the days are coloured more sharply: bright and hurtful and wonderful all at once. We had no running water. It was in an abandoned hotel. I miss the monk at the temple door opposite the school, always on time at 6am to open it for our classes. I miss the folk at the local shop who invited me to watch films on their projector; once they killed a chicken for us. I miss the woman in the woods who gave me the chestnuts she had picked. I gave the chestnuts to the cook, and we steamed them and ate them by the lake. He wanted me to marry his son; he wanted it so strongly that he brought me pork, and desserts, and gave me paper, and promised me I could have a jade bracelet, that he would buy me a house. I miss the oldest martial arts teacher, who spoke in such strong dialect I could barely understand him. When I was sad and missing home one night, he told me that I should stay after dinner. In the silence and against the cicadas, he started to play the erhu for me. Later, my friend told me that he hadn't know what to say, how to comfort me; I was a foreigner and a young woman, after all. We had very little in common. But nobody has ever played a piece of music for me like that before.
And I miss X, my best friend there and partner in snack-smuggling crime. She is 19 years old, and a janitor's daughter, and one of the wisest people I have ever met. (She also rides an excellent motorbike, and lent me her hanfu, and we sped through the city giddy with our own daring and trying not to be caught.) We got matching haircuts; she had always wanted to cut her hair like a boy, and was too scared to do it alone. When I left, I told her to stay in touch: she shook her head. She said that some people were meant to know each other for some time, and no more. I think the death of friendship by attrition, by - as Elrond said! - the slow decay of time, is one of the saddest things of all. I deleted Wechat. I don't want to read over the old messages. By having this place - her, and the chestnuts, and the cicadas - as a memory, I can tuck it away it. I can keep it close.
I wrote a poem myself on the plane. That was the last I thought about China, the last thought I let myself have, in eight months. I kept myself away from it. It felt like a wound. And against that hollowness, there was constantly the question: Why should I have any right to miss this place? Who I am there? Why does it matter? We are all different people, wherever we go, and whoever we are with; we wear different skins, large or small. In China I was [...]. She was who I was. That name, that I introduced myself to people with - she was bright and friendly and tried to translate things just so. Everybody who goes as the only foreigner to a place - or the only foreigner that speaks the language - is a little bit self-obsessed. It happens. It's unfortunate, and something to guard against. But it also gives you its own kind of identity in a way: your identity is Foreigner. Your identity is a cultural bridge. Everyone you meet, in a country as friendly and curious as China, has questions about you. You stand with your feet in both worlds, and are not really part of either of them. That identity is easy to slip into, like cool water, like trying on new clothes. It's easier that thinking: who am I outside of that? Where am I going? I don't really know. I don't think anyone really does.
And then the second thing happens. I speak Chinese well, by this point. My accent is there, but it's slight. I am short, and have dark hair, and a generally similar build to many East Asians - so the questions I have got in the last few years have changed. Sometimes people think I have been raised here. Sometimes they think I am ethnically Russian, and nationally Chinese. Sometimes I get asked if I am half Chinese. Usually they know I am a Foreigner, 100% white - but not always. There is a peculiar rush that comes from that acceptance; from feeling the relief, just for fifteen minutes, that you belong. It's not about 'passing', or race-bending, or anything twisted - it's nothing so unnerving as that. It's just the human need to belong. Everyone gets tired of being stared at, after a while. And after a while, you start to think - I wish I understood. I wish they understood. I wish this were easy.
But then the conversation keeps going. You don't know a local word, or you misunderstand. You say something in a strange way, or you make a strange gesture, and the glass shatters, and - there you are again, naked again, exhausted again, explaining yourself again. That's the other half of it. There's solace in the Foreigner identity, because that means that's all you are. You don't have to think about your parents, or whether they worry about you so far from home; of course they do. The Foreigner is good and filial and a wonderful daughter. You can craft her into any shape you like. But it also marks you out again and again, endlessly and again, as Other.
There was a paper published a while ago that showed measures of acceptance of non-natives in native-speaking communities. It highlights a strange, but familiar experience to those who have lived abroad - the people who spoke the language to a medium level felt more accepted and less lonely than those that spoke the language to a high degree. It makes sense, and mirrors what I have found with both Chinese and German. When you speak a little Chinese, you are a wonder - a curiousity! Look at the Western girl go! People are kind, and curious, and will slow down to include you in conversations. You are thrilled with what you can access - all this knowledge, that other people don't have! Look how special you are!
And then you get better. And then you realise, cut by cut, that you will never be one of them. You don't want to be Chinese, per se; but you do want to be accepted. You are happy to be British; but you miss China like a wound, an old one, festering, even when it was never yours. How do you tell your family that you are not grieving a lost romance, a beautiful girl, but a language and a life? That there are words of majesty, of playfulness, that will never be yours? You speak well enough that people no longer bother to dumb things down, or explain them; you sit with your discomfort, smile painted on, because - you know. It's not bad. You understand most of it. And on the edge of that circle, smiling uncertainly, following the vast majority of what is being said, you are not clever enough and not witty enough to keep up with the chengyu, the cultural references, the slang, and the raucous laughter around you erupts, and you don't know what you've missed, and everybody says - she's quiet, that one. Maybe all the foreigners are? And all you are doing is sitting and feeling the distance between You and Them as heavy and as stifled in your chest as an ocean of dark.
So you go back. Back to your people. But when you sit with the other foreigners, you are apart. They laugh; what are these nutters doing? The Chinese don't make any sense. The Chinese do this - they do that. You sit there, and then there is a pressure building in your chest too, a discomfort, the desire to stand up and say - well, actually.
You are responsible for everything the Chinese teachers do, and have to explain things in a way that the students understand - Confucian thought, and Buddhist philosophy, translated in pithy bite-size adages for the West. You have no qualifications for this; everything you assert, you feel unsure. Uncertain. Someone else could explain it better, more nuanced, and you need to do more reading anyway - but here you are, and here they are, and you're the only one. And you do know. Not enough, but enough that their jokes, their pains, make you uncomfortable. You feel the need to defend both parties; to be a diplomat, every second of every day. In turn, when the students come to the teachers with problems, you have to translate their grievances in a way that the Chinese teachers will be sympathetic towards. Once I got asked: why do you never join us after class? Why are you always so quiet when you're not working? As a translator, you are always working. Every time you speak, you are working; what you choose to say, and what you choose to not say, and where you choose to intervene. You are building relationships, and disappearing, and you are becoming invisible, and you're a nothing, and you're everyone and you're nobody and nobody realises you are doing anything more than translating at all.
I wanted to stay. I couldn't have stayed. I wanted to be accepted as one of them. I wanted to be accepted for who I was. That means a foreigner. I wanted to be true to myself, which means that I would always be the Foreigner, which means I would always be apart from them. It is that contrast and juxtaposition which causes the grief. And there was never an ending to it, a resolution, a chance to reconcile myself (in China) with myself (in the UK), because all at once I had to leave. The grief comes most from the second arrow - not the pain of leaving, but the bewilderment of not knowing why I was in pain at all.
It's been eight months. Slowly, as spring comes, I feel like I am on surer ground. I can look at my old books, those painstaking notes, and I could look at new ones too and I'm starting to think, because this is what I tell my students, and maybe there's some truth in it - it's okay if you're not perfect. It's okay if you didn't achieve what you wanted to, and that the language - in its wholeness, and who can ever know that? - will never, not quite, be yours. It's the struggle and the process that means that I will know and understand Chinese in a different way, in my own way, in a slanted-to-reality sort of way, that is a treasure in and of itself. There is beauty in its brokenness too.
And there is sorrow, too. The sorrow that comes with easing yourself into a different life, and it holding you gently for a while. I sat there - I spoke to them. It's not only missing a place; it's missing a person you were, a stage of your life, for a time. It's knowing that a place has reached inside your ribs and taken root there - even if you don't return, you can never fully get rid of that again. You are two people now, with feet straddling two oceans. There are parts of you that loved and suffered and hated and grew in Chinese, not English. You can't explain that. You can't even begin. Sometimes - not often - you are a stranger in your own land. The poets spoke of that. In the age of fast travel, of the weekend break, we have forgotten the ways a place can burrow itself inside you, and find its own home.
It's not the same as the grief that someone Chinese will face. But it's still grief. I have put my life into Chinese. Maybe that is all it takes to grow love.
Now, I turn back to Chinese - as a foreigner, as Melissa, as myself. It's a bittersweet thing. I know that I cannot hold all of it. It will spill out, like the sun, and there is no way I can be that without losing myself and my history and my own green woods. But I think I am ready now. I am surer, and a little steadier on my feet.
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"Make it look like a freak lighting accident"
It’s been years since I’ve revisited Due South, but the @ds30below event sparked my interest again, and I decided to watch a few episodes with my bud @flownwrong to celebrate. We watched three episodes that stuck in my mind the most over the years after being absent from the show for so long: Bird in the Hand, Eclipse, and The Ladies’ Man, and I found all three to be a very rewarding rewatch, even though my memory of the rest of the series is a bit hazy.
Bird in the Hand:
When we started our mini marathon, I didn’t realize that this was the only ep of the three where Fraser’s dad plays a role, and I forgot how solid Pinsent was at pulling comic relief duty. The scene where he popped up demanding that Fraser murder Gerard immediately after Gerard was droning on about how Robert’s dogged nobility was his ultimate downfall had me rolling, as did the bit where he—probably correctly— asserted that Ray would shoot Gerard for him if Fraser really asked him to (aww). One thing in particular about his character that struck me while watching this episode were the moments where he actually interacted with the environment around him in a way that impacted people other than Fraser by implanting the idea to retreat in McFadden’s mind and having Gerard attempt to grab his hand while dangling in the air. In my memory, it was a lot more ambiguous whether Robert was actually a spirit or a figment of Fraser’s imagination, so that ended up being kind of a fun twist for me.
Since the other two episodes we watched were very Ray K centric, I’m glad we did one that had a focus on Fraser’s emotional state. The scene where he confronted Robert about stubbornly refusing help in life and said “I never loved anyone as much as I love you” while Robert was still trying to find ways to derail the conversation is a fan favorite for a reason; it’s a rare, intensely vulnerable moment for Fraser and I really enjoyed the way that Paul Gross pulled back from it a little. In another show with another character, it’s easy to imagine a scene like this being a more blatant, emotional showstopper, with the neglected son saying this in a fit of tearful anger that’s meant to make his father rear back in surprise. Instead, Paul Gross delivers the line in an understated way that’s almost more like puzzled frustration, as if Fraser is trying to piece something together about himself instead, which I thought was a really nice touch to the scene that made it feel very Fraser. I also love the cunning way that Fraser brought it back around just a few minutes later by weaponizing male emotional repression in order to freak out everyone else in the room and gain the upper hand (as well as have an opportunity to annoy Ghost Dad by calling him short) while also delivering some genuine truths: Gerard really did break his heart.
Last but certainly not least, I adore how Ray kept trying to take care of Fraser throughout the episode in his own grumpy, special way. Sure, trying to orchestrate some Fraser-on-Gerard police brutality didn’t end up being the most well received suggestion, but it’s sweet that he acted extra vengeful to make up for Fraser’s dutiful restraint. I also forgot that the “Mentally Deficient” sticker gag and the tape recorder conversation were both in this episode. The Bickering Married Couple vibes between them were always such a classic part of the show, so it was nice to see that on display.
Bird in the Hand really held up strongly against my fond memories of it, and I was a little surprised at how easy it was to slide back into this world and be immersed in it after being away for so long. Sometimes I guess you actually can go back home again.
#due south#ds30below#i will post my observations about Eclipse and The Ladies’ Man separately hopefully either tonight or tomorrow#but i had a blast watching all three#thanks alina!
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(it is worth reiterating that all of my posts about asexuality and fiction and so on are from the point of view of an aroace person who used to be extremely sex repulsed, and then just extremely disinterested for quite a big chunk of my adult life so far, and spent a lot of time desperate for stories that offered me a glimpse of a life that was whole without needing romance and/or sex to be part of it. that i have more recently become interested in sex in the abstract while still not experiencing attraction does not negate the years i spent not feeling that and does not make them any less valuable or important as part of my experiences as a human being, and as an adult who deserves to feel whole)
(i feel this extremely strongly because people sometimes act like my current feelings mean i "grew out of" my old ones, but this is not a maturity thing or a progression, it's change due to my personal circumstances and experiences and nature. and it could easily go back the other way in future, who knows. in the meantime, 22 year old me deserved to have stories that gave me hope for a reality i could build for myself. hell, 28 year old me deserves them, because whatever my future looks like, it still isn't going to follow an amato-/allonormative model and i don't see enough ways of living to help me imagine an adult life beyond those patterns. i demand better for the sake of past me and present me and for everybody for whom that is their present and/or their future, however old they are)
(anyway sex-repulsed asexual people deserve better than the same stories with pieces taken out because they deserve better than to be treated like people with something missing)
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I love your work and your whole blog is just so amazing! I would like to request letter A for Baji from Tokyo revengers. Thank you, have a nice day dear! :)
This one’s going to be longer than normal— sue me. Read more cause it’s long
Affection: How do they show their love and affection? How intense would it get?
Baji Keisuke is a very intense person. When he feels strongly about a person, it’s hard not to notice. He goes out of his way to give Pah’s dog extra attention when he’s away, carries Mikey to and from places when he falls asleep randomly— everyone feels at ease when they’re with Baji because he is a safe person that they know they can trust.
So for his significant other; of course he’ll show his affections openly. Though it may look like less like romantic affection than it would a doting mother (does that make sense?)
Baji will wholeheartedly take care of you.
You have a stomach ache in public? He rubs your back and finds a place for you to sit, or takes you home immediately if you want. Even if he’s not entirely sure how to fix your issues, he’s dutiful in the way he cares for you.
Order something you don’t like at a restaurant? You got two options, you two can swap meals (because he doesn’t care what he eats as long as you’re happy), or he’ll order a safer option for you.
Can’t sleep? He’ll be half delirious, but he’ll stay on the phone with you and let you chat while he mumbles back replies to make you feel better. Battery might be shot tomorrow but he only uses it to stay in touch with you anyway.
Leaning into romantic affection: not so much into the casual stuff like hand holding (he’s a little squirrelly and gets frustrated if his arm is locked down for too long), but loves looping his arm over your shoulder and holding you close to him at all times. It’s more than showing people you belong to him, it’s also the comfort having you near brings him.
If he’s sitting and getting stir crazy, he’ll play with your fingers. It eventually becomes a fidget of his so he doesn’t realize he does it, but everyone else does.
Likes cuddles, specially holding you. He loves feeling you wrapped up in his arms and pressed into his neck. He could get lost in thought and lay there for hours thinking of all the things he adores about you.
If you fall asleep, he’ll stare at your face; gently pat your hair or trace your features… he’s star stuck thinking about you.
Also shows his affection in protecting you. Can not stand when other people waste your time. If you’re enjoying the conversation then sure, he’ll endure. But if you show any sign of fatigue or annoyance, he’s quick to swoop in and come up with an excuse to get yall going.
That goes for his own friends too. If anyone so much as gives a backhanded comment about you, (I.e: she’s leeching all of your time Baji/Cant you go anywhere without her?/she’s fine but I don’t like having her around/etc), he goes off. There was nothing fucking wrong with you and if you were content being by his side, then he would happily keep you there.
“Fuck you say? Ain’t no one ask you, so keep your shit shut.” He can get really aggressive with his language and dialect, don’t try fighting him further than that, it will end in fists and blood.
Speaking of, is happy to beat the shit out of anyone for you. There’s not a lot that is beneath him. (More on this @/Blood) He doesn’t hit girls, but he will pull their hair and scream in their face for a long time until they get the picture to not mess with you.
Overall: Baji only becomes an intense yandere if other people get involved. If it’s just the two of you, he’s extremely doting and careful with you, but does his best not to stir you into complex feelings that might cause you to leave him.
#yandere alphabet#I don’t feel like these are very good tbh#sorry#I tried#tokyo revengers#tokyo rev#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyo rev x y/n#tokyo revengers baji#tr baji#Baji#Baji keisuke#Keisuke baji#baji keisuke x reader#baji x reader#yandere#yandere x reader#yandere tokyo revengers#yandere baji#yandere headcanons#tokyo revengers headcanons#baji headcanons#Baji keisuke headcanons
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your addiction recovery has been a bit of a spark of hope for me. I'm a functional alcoholic. a few people close to me have mentioned that i "drink a bit much", but they dont know the extent. I can still keep up appearances, but the cracks are starting to show. I know alcohol is not as dangerous as the stuff you used to have, but it reassuring to see someone else make that turnaround and how open youve been about the struggle to resist. I feel like I'm either going to fuck everything up or find a way to recover soon. all I know is that the scales are going to weigh one way or the other soon cause they wont stay still much longer
Hey hey hey. First of all. I strongly disagree with the notion that alcohol isn’t as dangerous as drugs. Even the drugs I was on. Even heroin and meth. Let me tell you I was in rehab with dozens and dozens of alcoholics and their stories were just as brutal as mine. Alcoholism kills and the withdrawal is brutal and I just wanna say that first because I don’t want you undermining your own demons in comparison with mine
That aside. I feel you. I really do. I was able to keep the mask on for a long long time when I was using. I still had a job, still graduated college, still kept up appearances well enough that my loved ones didn’t know what was happening until I hit my breaking point and everything started going nuts
It’s a lonely and scary place to be. I’m sorry you’re there right now. But it’s good you recognize it. It’s important that you recognize that there is a problem
Obviously I encourage you to get help and seek recovery but also I know that’s a lot. And I know it took me a long time and a lot of relapses to get here. Remember that too. Relapses happen
I don’t know how much you’re drinking but be careful if you ever plan on going cold turkey. The withdrawal is genuinely dangerous and you may need to either ween yourself or seek medical detox
Thanks for being here. Stay safe
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If Deities came to speak with humans face-to-face, most modern polytheists would be wrong.
If called down, Deities would actually be capable of making our lives easier when it comes to working with Them and listening for Their voices. The reason why it’s so hard for people to listen for the Gods is because people don’t necessarily know how important it is to develop their own personal relationship with the Divine.
We are so, so worried about being wrong and we look to other people to tell us which way we go. But there are very few experienced practitioners, even fewer effective teachers (if any at this point) and it is the blind leading the blind.
In all of my years of working with Loki, every single time I had a problem with discernment, it was always due to other people telling me I’m wrong or that their opinion was more important than my intuition. And I believed them because they seemed more knowledgeable. My beliefs I held strongly to in the beginning of my devotion to Him were always bent down by other people thinking they know more than me even though years later, they turned out to be truer than the thoughts I had after I was in a community.
You can call it beginner’s luck, but after years of seeking community, His voice became quieter and quieter. It was when I left pagan groups that I became explicitly aware of what He actually wanted from me. Confirmations started happening, the energy became denser, and things just magically started to work out that never did before and I could hear His voice speak to me in ways I didn’t think were possible prior to this reawakening.
I’m not saying we should be without community, but community resources need to be rewritten to accommodate the fact that us in the West know very little about working with the Gods. We used to. But we have no context for it anymore within society.
We can try to reconstruct a dead culture because you feel like yours is lacking but unless you’re actually receiving direct correspondence with the Divine, you will likely be unlucky in finding Their truest nature.
#deity work#devotional polytheism#mysticism#norse gods#hot take#norse paganism#norse polytheism#lokean#deity worship#paganblr#pagan blog#deity devotion#deity communication#divine communication#loki deity#norse heathen#norse deities#heathenry#devotional mysticism#polytheism#deity witchcraft#beginner pagan#pagan resources#pagan community
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Club Lights And Sex On The Beach
PART 1
Pairings: Josh Kiszka x Reader
Warnings: 18+, alcohol, drinking, one-night stands/hookups, smut, penetrative sex, drunken sex (still consensual), protected sex (don't be silly, wrap your willy!), afab reader, feminine terms of endearment used, pretty much a female reader but you could get away with it not imagining the reader as a woman.
Summary: After a fun night at the club you run into a handsome stranger and his friends. What happens when you end up in his bed?
Authors Note: This is a multichapter series!!!!!!! This is only part 1 but we are gonna get into a full-fledged story pretty soon. I will be posting parts 2 and 3 later tonight because they are both pretty short. If you choose this could be read as a one-shot but I strongly recommend following the series. I hope you enjoy it!!! also, remember that my requests are always open!
you can also read on AO3 here.
Part 1
The lights came down harshly on your skin, illuminating the dim room just a tad more. The club is decently packed, and a small crowd of people at the beginning of the night quickly turns into a bustling scene full of college girls looking for either a good time or a quick fuck, either way, it’s still fun. Then there were the rowdy frat boys either being annoying or harassing girls at the bar, either way, they were douchebags.
One type stood out to you though, it was a small group of guys, but they were different. You couldn’t help but notice these men, they were talking with each other at their fancy booth in the back of the club. There were 4 of them, all devilishly handsome you had to admit, but one of them shined particularly bright. You saw him frequent the bar throughout the night, until now.
You feel a force bump into you from the side, not hard but forceful enough for you to spill a little bit of your drink on the bar. “Oh I’m sorry sweetheart are you ok” you hear from beside you, a charming voice guiding you. And there he is, your mystery man you’ve had your eye on all night.
“Oh yeah I’m fine don’t worry about it.” You nearly yell above the loud music to him.
“Well it looks like you spilled your drink,” He says, making you look at the reminisce of your drunken reflexes failing you.
“Don’t worry about it it’s ok” You smile at him, and in return, he looks directly into your eyes. His brown eyes caused a shift in your stomach, piercing your soul while comforting you in a delightful mix of emotions.
“Well, I can stop worrying about it if you let me buy you a drink.” The clever way to buy a girl a drink. You sigh, “Well crap, I guess I gotta let you buy me a drink now.” You laugh out. “Why thank you,” he says, leaning over the bar and ordering sex on the beach. “Sex on the beach? how’d you know?” he looks back over at you with a smug grin strewn across his face, bewitching you even more. “I saw you ordering it when you first walked in.” Oh. So he was staring at you the whole night, interesting, I guess a smart girl’s intuition never fails. “Well thank you for noticing, Mr-” “Kiszka, but it would be best if you called me Josh.” “Well thank you very much, Josh, nice to meet you.” You smile back at him and for a moment you can feel lust piercing through you like you’ve been shot by Cupid himself. Who knew an arrow through the heart could feel so good?
The rest of the next 40 or so minutes flew by in a hurricane of lustful glances and drunken introductions set in the brightly dimmed nightclub you found yourself in. Meeting his friends, those 4 guys you kept in mind to be specific. Their names were Jake, who just so happened to be the twin of Josh, (is it bad you’ve always dreamt of having a thing with a set of twins?) and their little brother Sam, accompanied by their friend Danny. And my god were they the epitome of beauty and grace, their suave presence somehow lighting up the dim nightclub. But then the next thing you knew, you were making out with Josh in the back alley waiting for an Uber.
The ride back to his apartment was tense but uneventful in respect of the poor Uber driver who had probably dealt with enough drunk people tonight already. The sexual tension was overflowing from the backseat where you both resided, his hand on your thigh resting ever so gently with all the passion and care in the world.
Then the car stopped, his hand quickly unbuckling your seatbelt for you and grabbing your hand, leading you out onto the sidewalk in front of a lavish apartment building, the ones you see celebrities come out of in staged paparazzi photo shoots. You felt his hand snake around your waist leading you into the lobby encrusted with marble and the stench of rich people wasting money because they can. Who were you about to sleep with? God only knows but you know for a fact you got lucky.
The makeout session in the elevator was heated, so much so that you barely paid attention to the fact the elevator went straight into a hall with only 5 or 6 doors, with Josh leading you down the short hall straight into his apartment, or more so what looked like to be a penthouse. You didn’t get a great look at it though - through the lips on lips and hands and waists it was hard to pay attention to detail.
He broke your kiss in what felt like hours, arguably the best of your life. You’re led into his bedroom quickly, He playfully drags you into the room, pushing you onto the bed. You spread your legs for him, butterflies swirl in your core. You watch as he starts to slow down, pulling his shirt over his head. He puts his knee in between your legs climbing over you on the bed. Your lips collide once more, desperate and lustful. You moan into it, quickly making work of his pants, pulling them down to his thighs. You can feel him through his boxers, already harder than ever. He slides his hand up your thigh, slowing towards the hem of your dress. He stops briefly, “Can I?” you only respond by lifting your hips and starting to pull it off, he stops you and pushes your hips back down with proximity while pulling it off, throwing it somewhere into the dark room, only lit by the moonlight shining in through the ceiling high window.
Your body feels like it’s on fire, all you feel is warmth. Josh’s body presses up against yours again, lips and tongues intertwined making your head spiral, hell you had just met this guy an hour ago. This was way more fun than you thought you’d have tonight. A random man named Josh, his 3 best friends are hot - and you got to meet them, this guy is probably rich as fuck, and my god was he good.
He pulls away briefly losing the shorts and boxers. You can see his tip already red and leaking, he leans over you, continuing a loss you had such a brief moment ago. He reaches down underneath your hips and tears your underwear off, throwing it aside. The hold he has on your hips is strong, a sickeningly lustful feeling going straight to your head. He breaks away, “Do you want me to wear a condom?” he asks, almost breathless. “It’d be nice,” you say, catching your breath as well. He smiles and reaches over you to the nightstand grabbing one and tearing it open and putting it on swiftly. You grab his face, pulling him down to kiss you. Josh laughs through the kiss, his chuckle soon turns into a moan as he kisses down your neck. “Can I fuck you?” is all he manages to breathe out. “God, please.” you moan.
Your gut and head both turn to jelly as he enters you, not too slow, not too hard, and not too fast.
God, he’s good.
You feel the vibrations of his moan on your neck, mixed with the vibrations of yours coming from the same source. You can’t help but let it all out, moans and whimpers and all the beautiful sounds of sex fill up this room. His hips are snapping into yours, picking up the pace, brutally. He leans back, never losing stamina. Josh grips your hips, hard enough that you’re sure it’ll leave a bruise. He slides up to your upper thighs, pulling them apart while he kneels in front of you, throwing the back of your knees over his shoulders, making a new angle and another powerful sensation. You feel a coil start to form in your midgut, stronger than anything before it. “Fuck, I’m close-” You’re broken off by another moan escaping you by mistake. You watch as his hips snap back into you over and over, his abs are flexing and covered in a slight sheen of sweat. He takes his thumb and rubs it right underneath your clit, right on the sweet spot that drives you insane. Your orgasm comes crashing into you like a freight train at top speed. You don’t even realize how loud you moan, a headrush almost making you black out. You ride it out, soon coming to, hearing the pretty sound of Josh moaning and letting a slight whimper escape his pretty lips. “Fuck, baby-” he cuts himself off with a loud moan and the stutter of his hips. You feel the warmness in your gut fill you through the latex. He almost collapses on top of you, forearms pressed on the bed bedside. You rest your hands on the back of his neck, slowly caressing him through his post cum clarity. “That was the best sex I’ve ever had,” you admit, and to be completely honest, it was. That had been the best, let alone the best orgasm you’ve ever had. You feel him laugh a little, his head perking up, eyes locking with yours. “Really?” he breathes out, a chuckle leaving his lips, his pretty, pretty lips. God, he was beautiful. “Yes.” You watch as his eyes, seeing the words go straight to his head. “Why thank you, baby, I’m flattered.” he gives you a quick kiss on the lips, a gentle but beautiful gesture.
He slowly pulls out of you, taking off the condom and tying a knot in it. “I’ll be right back,” he gently pats your thigh as he gets up and heads towards the bathroom. Finally, you get the chance to look around and analyze where you are. It���s still dark, the moonlight shining in was still a good enough source though. His bed lies in the middle of the room. His walls are off-white, with unique artwork that just looks expensive. Goddamn, you hit the gold mine in the crowd of the bar tonight. You suddenly hear the bathroom door open back up, looking over you see his stature in the doorway, backlight by the bathroom light. He walks over and comes back up to you with a damp washcloth. “Do you mind if I clean you up?” He asks gently, his voice so calming you couldn’t help but agree to the kind gesture. He takes the washcloth to your upper thighs, cleaning up the stickiness. Gently, with more precision than ever, he glides it over your cunt, making sure not to overstimulate, while also cleaning you well. “Thank you,” you mutter out, now suddenly a bit shy after all is said and done. “You’re welcome, sweetheart,” he says, smiling brightly at you. You watch as he throws the towel in a hamper, turns off the bathroom light, turns back around, and hops back into bed. He offers you to climb under the covers with him, to which you happily oblige.
“Thank you, Josh, this is nice,” you say, making yourself comfortable in his bedsheets. He places a hand on your cheek, leaning on his side to fully lock eyes with you. “Of course, how could I see a beautiful girl like you and not treat her well?” you laugh along with him, thanking him for his kindness. You cuddle into his arms, sleepiness suddenly washing over you. His delightful musk fills your senses, his skin is so soft and gentle. This man is just so…beautiful. And kind. And sweet. And my god you can’t remember the last time, if at all, where you have ever been this happy, especially after hooking up with a guy you met at a bar. Josh brings you in closer, his gentle love lulls you to sleep, as the world around just goes into a comfortable silence.
#gvf#josh kiszka x reader#josh kiszka#greta van fleet#greta van fic#danny wagner#sam kiszka#jake kiszka#josh gvf#gvf smut#jake gvf#danny gvf#sam gvf#yourmomsgarlicbread writes#greta van smut#greta van fleet fan fiction#gvf fic#josh kiskza fanfic#josh kiskza smut#multi chap fic#multichapter
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You know seeing last years content like weverse lives , karmy comments etc, BB about recording songs & thinking about JK's personality, I don't think Jk like to spend time in hybe building other than official work 🤭🤭 I think he records most of the songs at his own recording studio at his home. I believe that Jk doesn't like Hybe's comporate environment🤭 to inspire his musical creativity so home is the best place to do that. Same with Tae , I think that's why he went to Jk's house to record the song.
You know, I've thought the same thing before.
Disclaimer: I'm still baby army. This is just my reading, my opinion and my take as a little army. Please challenge it in the comments if you feel like I'm misguided here.
When I first started reading blogs and twitter last year, there were lots of JK-antis accusing him of being Bang PDs fave, getting preferential treatment, etc.
It didn't take long to realise that criticism feels more like just a twisting of the Golden Maknae idea which in my opinion is a character for convenience that doesn't allow for being imperfect complicated humans. (I can ramble further about how those easy archetypes contribute to toxic fan environments but that's off topic.)
So I don't really see that he gets preferential treatment at all. His career goals and music style are highly marketable so maybe it gives that impression? Tangentially, I don't like how "preferential treatment" discredits how hard he works or how talented he is.
With that in mind, it occurs to me JK's relationship with The Company is no more close than anyone else and could be quite complex. It is all he's ever known from a very tender formative age which could contribute to a little more reticence to be Tae levels of honest about it... but you can tell how much JK has matured by how he thinks now, how he's finding autonomy and finding his voice to defend himself in ways that might not be a PR manager's dream. He's clear he wants his life to be his own.
The more I learn about him, and how he and Tae were considering not re-signing, it makes me wonder if the sheen came off the company a bit. As it would as the pressure piled on, as their hot air balloon went into the stratosphere.
All this said, I don't think there's a big JK hates the company conspiracy. Maybe he's weary of the trappings of it. Naturally it's probably always going to represent the bits of his life he has no control over and it only makes sense that he'd be happier in private spaces. Is that just getting older? Is that what we all feel about our workspace?
I identify strongly with a guy who'd rather be at home, to be honest 😂
Thanks anon! 💜
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The reality of leaving a toxic family and why I’ll always sympathize with Bruno’s decision.
Just finished my third rewatch of Encanto (mostly because I hadn’t watched it with Bulgarian dub but anyway), and it reminded me once again why I relate to Bruno’s character so much.
Because I have very real, personal experience with distancing myself from a dysfunctional family and a toxic parent in particular, so his situation hits a little too close to home.
So, here’s a few thoughts on Bruno’s situation and why it actually mirrors plenty of real people’s experience (including mine).
Let’s get one thing out first: the movie itself does not really frame his decision as leaving a toxic family situation, but rather as a kind of sacrifice he had to do to protect Mirabel from the prophecy – but that’s a very surface reading of it. In reality, no child should need any “protection” from their literal family and there’s something very wrong with that family if that’s the case. The fact Bruno felt he couldn’t trust his own mother with the prophecy, the fact he was certain everyone will assume the worst of it and feared the consequences it could have for Mirabel, is a massive red flag that he was in some kind of toxic situation.
And no, I don’t mean that he was openly mistreated by anyone – let me elaborate.
Love, toxicity and more – are you “abused enough” to justify making such an extreme decision?
In general, there is still a lot of stigma about leaving your family – the intensity of that stigma greatly varies by culture, of course. But there’s a certain idea of what’s an acceptable situation that requires cutting contact, usually when we talk about pretty extreme cases of abuse (and even then some people can be unsympathetic about it).
When we talk about a purely dysfunctional family, rather than a flat out abusive one, things get a lot more complicated. You could very well feel you don’t have it “bad enough”. You might convince yourself that you are being too sensitive for being hurt, that you are being selfish for wanting to leave. They are your family and they love you after all. Right?
Unfortunately, love and toxic behavior are not something mutually exclusive. That’s something people in general still struggle to understand and it’s a very harmful misconception. It’s very common excuse people make for their behavior, especially in case of familial relationships, that they can’t possibly be toxic to someone if they love them. It’s also something that prevents people from recognizing that they are in a toxic situation.
In Bruno’s case, even though we don’t have a full detailed context and backstory about his life before leaving, I tend to assume he wasn’t viciously abused by his mother or flat out mistreated by anyone else. See, I’m not one of those people who demonize Alma or the Madrigal family in general – of course they aren’t some kind of monsters and they love each other despite everything, I’m sure they actually loved Bruno. But as I said, love can coexist with toxicity.
Ultimately, my point is - the fact Bruno was loved and not flat out abused by his family also doesn’t mean the situation can’t be toxic and harmful to his mental health. There are very serious red flags (both within the actual movie canon and additional information from the creators) that his situation was indeed bad. It’s clear he had already been isolating himself from the family for a while, that things were like that for years and nothing ever improved. This kind of environment is definitely unhealthy enough to cause someone to walk away.
Leaving isn’t easy and it isn’t pretty – people are going to be hurt
Now, let’s address one common argument about why what Bruno did was wrong – he left suddenly without any explanation, without as much as a note, and that was a seriously hurtful thing to do, especially for his sisters.
I don’t disagree with this sentiment at all. Of course, the way he handled things was far from ideal and the family is also allowed to be hurt by it. And still, I don’t exactly condemn him for it. What he did may not be the "right" way to handle things, but it’s very realistic.
Leaving a dysfunctional family isn’t some kind of a wholesome affair where they pat you on the back and throw you a farewell party. A lot of people will prefer to cut off contact over time without properly talking things out, usually because they fear the backlash, don’t want to see the hurt reactions, and don’t want to hear the harsh words that would inevitably be exchanged. Having a direct confrontation with a toxic family about cutting ties with them can become very rough and even escalate a toxic situation into something far worse.
Going back to Encanto - curiously, we have an actual proof that things could have gotten very ugly if Bruno tried to confront Alma before leaving – you know that cut scene from the early development of the movie? The one called “Chores”, where we get to hear about the tense exchange Alma had with Bruno (named Oscar back then) before he left and what they said to each other? Sure, this exchange is very far from canon, but it does show what could have potentially went down.
Furthermore – does the hurt you cause by leaving erase the hurt caused to you?
Continuing from my last point. The family was undoubtedly hurt by Bruno’s decision to leave. That would still have been the case even if he handled things better.
Of course, when there’s still love present in the family, despite the toxicity, the family is not going to want you gone and would be naturally hurt by such a decision.
That’s exactly why it’s so difficult to make the decision - because you don’t want to hurt those people you actually still love. That’s why when you actually make the decision you might feel enormous guilt and shame about it. You might feel selfish, cruel and ungrateful. You might begin to question your own reality and your whole past experience. And you can definitely see that guilt in Bruno too, especially during his reunion with the family in the end – his nervous body language and rush to apologize (without expecting the same in return) speaks volumes and is frankly a little sad to watch.
The family's hurt is valid and justified, I'm not denying it - that also doesn't mean Bruno was somehow the bad guy who selfishly and heartlessly abandoned them. And it certainly doean't mean the hurt he caused them erases his own hurt and trauma. While such extreme criticism of his actions is thankfully uncommon, I do see some discussions that go into such direction and it rubs me the wrong way, because it feeds into the stigma about walking away from your family and it's just insensitive and potentially hurtful to real people's experience and trauma.
So, in conclusion, here’s the very harsh truth. Sometimes you need to prioritize yourself and your own well-being. Life is not a Disney movie after all and sometimes toxic relationships can’t be properly repaired, not even with your own parents. And the fact you are going to hurt someone by leaving does not mean the hurt they caused you (intentionally or not) no longer matters.
#bruno madrigal#encanto#encanto meta#encanto thoughts#my meta#long post#/abuse mention#I don't know if people are still interested in Encanto discourse in 2023#but I just feel strongly about all of this
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