#and even the smallest things have changed

[omitea]

𝐉𝐉𝐊! 𝐌𝐄𝐍 + 𝐓𝐇𝐈𝐍𝐆𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄𝐘 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐔𝐓 𝐘𝐎𝐔

. ft. gojo, geto, nanami, higuruma, choso & toji.

. content. fluff, slight mention of intimacy in geto’s. but most fluffiness. chubby reader hinted in toji’s.

. note. gags. this sucks. dont question my writing, idk how to do that anymore. also im sleepy so idk if its proofread well enough. goodnight.

☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔

gojo can’t get enough of seeing you smile. the way your lips stretch, eyes squinting slightly and he swears he can see them sparkle under the slight dimmed lights. but oh he loves the feeling of your pretty smile against his lips. swollen lips molding against each other before he feels what he desires the most. when he pulls away and looks at the sight of your spit covered lips, he can’t help but mirror your own expression. the dimples denting his pink cheeks only cause your smile to widen. and gojo thinks that he fell deeper in love if that was even possible.

☆— 𝐆. 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔

geto loves the way you subconsciously scrunch your nose; when you’re concentrating or if you dislike something. he honestly thinks it’s adorable and sometimes you catch him staring before he extends his calloused finger to boop your nose. he also took notice the slight scrunching of your nose during intimate times. a soft expression of slight pain mixed with pleasure as he tends to you with such gentleness. words of affirmation leaving his parted lips as he traces the bridge of your nose, leaving a soft kiss on the tip of it. its like a habit you can’t get rid off, because even when you’re crying— your cute, red stuffed nose still does the same.

☆— 𝐊. 𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈

nanami thinks you’re the closest thing to perfection he’s ever laid his eyes on. all the little traits of you makes his heart swell even more with pure love. you’re so attentive and caring towards everyone and he has to often remind you that you have to take care of yourself too. even though he already does that on a daily basis. a part of him gets thrilled seeing you furrow your brows when scolding him. its not the most appropriate, he knows that. and he tries anything and everything to keep his mind away from those thoughts. but for now, he should definitely listen to what you have to say.

☆— 𝐇. 𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔𝐌𝐀

higuruma finds it adorable how often you zone out while your gaze remains on his face. eyes trailing the curves and bumps; something you’d compare to a perfectly sculpted sculpture that’s been placed in a historical museum. dare he to say your lips part every time in adoration once your eyes settle on his nose. he often has to look away to hide the heat growing beneath his pale skin. the little things you admire about him makes him love you even more than he already has. although, he’s quick to shower you in affection too, to make sure you understand that the feeling which resides in his chest, is mutual.

☆— 𝐊. 𝐂𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐎

choso is so grateful for you, it’s something he tells you a lot. the patience you have with him, the way you take care of him; including the smallest things. it was often overwhelming for him to express his feelings, but you made it all the more easier. you make loving him look so easy, and it truly is. he learns more from you than he ever thought was possible. he tends to adapt to the things you do, not noticing the small changes within him. everything you do feels so natural, and he came to conclusion that loving you has felt like that for so long.

☆— 𝐓. 𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎

toji doesn’t like anything other than having his hands on your soft skin. he could fall asleep as soon as his head find its place on your plush thighs. he loves them wrapped around his waist but laying on them is what he’d prefer more. having his rough, yet warm hand under your shirt is something he looks forward to once he finally enters your home. fingers tracing the path your stretch marks create, leading towards your pudgy belly he likes to fond with. his hand may make its way to your breast if he’s getting way ahead of himself. he just loves how soft you feel and wants to touch all of you at once.

©𝐎𝐌𝐈𝐓𝐄𝐀. please refrain from stealing my works !

#—sinnie posts ♡ #☆ —jjk! #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen fluff #jjk fluff #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #gojo fluff #geto suguru x reader #geto x reader #geto fluff #nanami kento x reader #nanami x reader #nanami fluff #higuruma hiromi x reader #higuruma x reader #higuruma fluff #choso kamo x reader #choso x reader #choso fluff #toji fushigro x reader #toji x reader #toji fluff

[rooksamoris]

💞 — 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐕𝐀𝐆𝐀𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐃 𝐖𝐇𝐎 𝐀𝐕𝐎𝐈𝐃𝐒 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐀𝐒𝐈𝐒.

💞 — in which jamil realizes that no matter how hard he avoid the oasis, the thirst will not disappear till it is quenched.

💞 — jamil viper x reader

💞 — warnings: hurt/comfort type fic. some descriptions of gore to emphasize yearning (the arabs be dramatic, what can i say)

💞 — 1.7k words. inspired by "sawwah" the song by abdel halim hafez. you should listen to it while reading tbh. first in a series of me assigning old school arabic songs to various characters. and yes, arabic speaking jamil is back. the translations are italicized with the arabic, and i changed some lyrics to fit third person, instead of first.

Wa ana mashi fil bilad, sawwah.

And I walk through countries, a vagabond.

Jamil had a job. He was bound to eternal servitude to the Al-Asim family—practically property to Bait (house/clan) Al-Asim. He had a job, and yet he spent his nights away in his mind, wandering like a vagabond. Purposeless, jobless. 

All those nights toiling in the kitchen of Scarabia made him forget purpose and work were different things. He would never call working for that spoiled boy his purpose. He was made for more—to be praised, to rule and command. He deserved more. Jamil deserved more than having to push away his moon, his qamar (moon). 

You were like an oasis in the desert expanse that he called his mind, and yet he walked away from you. He walked away when he desperately needed a sip. When he desperately needed rest and dates from your palm.

“Qad jinint? (Have you become crazed?) I have too many things to deal with. And you’d be better off without the burden of my title. Imshi (Go on/walk off).”

Jamil saw it. He saw the way your expression faltered, the softest twitch in your brow, the smallest tremble of your lips. It was cruel, he knew it, and it hurt him to say it. But in the end, he knew there was nothing else he could say. There must have been a better way to delicately reject your confessions, and yet he took the harshest route. Jamil plucked the dates from your palm and trampled over them.

He hurt himself by doing so, denying himself the one thing he desperately wanted. In the end, it was simple. Mishwar baeed, wa hu gareeh. His life was a long journey that only injured him. He did not want it to injure you as well.

Still, his charcoal eyes would seek you out. He would still ask Kalim about you, wanting to know how the distance was affecting you. Did you become a vagabond as he did? Were you avoiding oases?

Did you ask about the brown-skinned boy who broke your heart? He just wanted to be reassured—tamainu (reassure him)—that his qamar was doing alright. Wa in la’akum habibi, salamuli alai, he wanted to tell Kalim. If you see my love, wish them peace from me.

He would never ask you himself, nor did he get the chance to since you would scurry off whenever he passed by. The one place he could not avoid you was the kitchen of Scarabia, his domain, during one of Kalim’s parties. You were hiding away from the madness, and he had been trying to hide away from you. It was the same spot in which you cooked with him, listened to him, and were eventually rejected by him.

Jamil froze after walking in, and you turned your head up from your phone once you saw him, “I’m sorry,” you said, pushing yourself off of the counter and heading for the other door. You could not face him, not after that rejection. Not after he told you that your feelings were that of a crazed djinni (genie/jinn).

He shook his head and walked to the stove top, turning it on, “Stay. I’ll make chai,” he muttered. He did not even look at you.

You still wanted to leave, but instead, you just nodded. Honestly, you were a fool for the man, for that long dark brown hair which he braided so perfectly, and his aquiline nose which you desperately wanted to trace your finger along, “I don’t want to trouble you—”

“It’s no trouble. It gives me an excuse to get away from Kalim.”

You swallowed and nodded.

The silence was horrifically uncomfortable. The only sounds in the kitchen were the boiling water in the kettle and the sound that the mortar and pestle made while Jamil began to grind the herbs for the tea. Chai, cloves, cardamom—he added cinnamon this time. The scent always made everything more cozy.

Ya qamar, ya nasini. Oh moon who forgets me. Jamil hoped you would have gotten over your feelings for him and forgotten about the rejection, but he could tell it stung. The way you looked around the kitchen proved that enough. He poured the evaporated milk into the tea, let it simmer with the racing of his heart, and then poured both of you cups. He was gentle as he set your cup in front of you, unlike the savagery that he handled your heart with. 

Jamil leaned against the island, his eyes trailing over your face, “Are you—”

“I’m fine,” you blurted, holding the cup of tea. Waseitak, waseiya, ya shahid aleiya, “I promised you—you heard. You saw,” you elaborated, “I’m fine.” Tekilu ala beiyak. You could have told him of the state you were in after the rejection, but you opted for lies veiled by a fake grin.

He understood. He did not let you see past his veil either, “I see.” 

“The tea is great.”

“Thanks.”

There it was, another uncomfortable silence. His eyes said it all, though. Had you looked close enough, you would have seen how they ached to sacrifice themselves for you. He wished his worries for you would leave him alone—he would have gouged his eyes out just to make the aching in his heart disappear. It was curling in on itself, threatening to burst with the violence of a desert storm, sand filled his lungs, suffocating him. The weeks felt like years, and he was just a nomad in the night.

“I didn’t mean what I said,” he set his cup down.

You immediately frowned and put your teacup down as well, scared you would drop in, “You don’t get to say that now,” you mumbled.

Jamil nodded in agreement. It was cruel, rejecting you so harshly just to turn around and claim he did not mean any of it. Especially when he still did find you crazy for loving him as ardently as you claimed, “It’s wrong. I know,” he said, looking away from you and to the door where all the commotion was. The music was muffled by the shut doors, making the kitchen feel like an entirely different building, “But I… I feel the same.”

That was another lie. He did not just feel the same, Jamil longed for you. He yearned, his heart ached and his veins begged to be torn out for your sake. Every cell in his body called for your name, his hands begged to grasp your waist, kiss your neck—his hands which artfully painted henna, wished they could trace every curve and every dip on your body.

“Jamil…” you trailed off.

He merely shook his head, “It is because I feel the same that I must reject you. You—you have so much more waiting in your life without me. My suffering should not be yours,” he said, and he said it as if it were the law of the universe. He was a vagabond eternally bound to avoid the oases because the oases were not meant for him. They were meant for Kalim Al-Asim.

Despite all that, he did not push you away when you cupped his face. He did not protest as he drowned. He did not thrash, he did not fight. His body did as it wished, leaning into your hands, “Ya qamar… you are making this more difficult than it needs to be,” he muttered, the disdain dying before it could embrace the quiet air of the kitchen.

You frowned at him—sevens, he wanted to kiss that mouth of yours—and your brows furrowed, “Let me, Jamil. Just let me,” you said. What did you want him to let you do? You had no clue, or perhaps it was just too broad to describe.

Nawarli, wararili, seitak al-habayeb.

Enlighten and show me the path to the beloveds.

He was so weak when it came to you. Before he knew it, his hands were at the small of your back, pulling you closer and forcing you to arch against him as his lips met yours in a fierce kiss. He sighed into your mouth, his tongue slipping in when you gasped in surprise.

Jamil needed you even closer. His hands made their way down to your hips, his thumbs slipping under the hem of your shirt to feel your skin. It was just as nice as he dreamed it would be. What made it all the better was how you kissed him back.

One of your hands gripped his shirt, right at his chest, right above his cruel racing heart, and the other held the back of his head. The quietest of whimpers escaped you as he bit your bottom lip, causing him to groan. 

He pressed you against the counter, causing your hand to slip from his chest and move to hold onto the surface behind you. You kissed him till you could not breathe, “Ja—Jamil,” you stammered when your lips parted from his. 

Greedily, he went in and kissed you some more. Jamil had taken a sip, and now he wanted it all. He only pulled away when your hands pressed against his chest to push him away. His eyes widened and his hands fell back to his sides. He pulled the hood down to hide his face from you as he turned his head, “Sorry,” he muttered.

“It’s—It’s fine,” you replied, fixing your clothes and hair, “Are we…” you let the question hang like a date on a palm tree.

He nodded, “If you’ll still have me,” he replied. What he wanted to do was get on his knees and beg you to use your lips to end his suffering—beg that you use those hands to pull the sand out of his chest.

“Of course, I’d still have you, Jamil,” 

Your words were like a soothing balm. It was the salve that you spread over his burns, over his scars, and over the bruises that his yearning created, “Okay,” he said, and it was all he could manage to say for now. 

He picked up the kettle of tea and poured you some more. No matter what he did, he could not run away from you, his purpose. You forced the vagabond to stop and pulled the title right off of him, before pushing him into the waters of the oasis.

“We have some ma’amoul (semolina biscuit stuffed with date filling),” he says, after some silence.

#💖 — amoris writes #twst x reader #twisted wonderland #jamil viper #jamil viper x reader #twst jamil #twisted wonderland x reader #twst jamil x reader #jamil nation is so back #making him speak arabic for y'all again

[teenidlegirl]

꣑୧ ݁.﹒𝓖𝐎𝐎𝐃𝐁𝐘𝐄 .ᐟ

ઇ ˚ ݂ ֹ ꒰ miguel o’hara 𝓍 fem!reader ꒱ ! ۟ ׅ ♡

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒔𝒖𝒎𝒎𝒂𝒓𝒚  ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  you never wanted your love to end but you will never be his again. time to say goodbye to the past, to the memories that will always be kept safe in your broken heart.

˒ ♡ ៸៸𓂃  𝒄𝒐𝒏𝒕𝒆𝒏𝒕  ˖ ׁ ⁩ .ᐟ  angst, established relationship, breakup, relationship negligence, no happy ending

( ꯭♡︎ ) ˖ ࣪ . love note ˒˒ heavily based on “goodbye” by marina, one of my favs of hers. i was feeling sad so i wrote this. ngl i did get a bit emotional writing this. also, first time writing pure angst.

in the beginning, it was all perfect. you found the perfect partner to spend your life with. miguel was a miracle, the light you were seeking for. you were his too, as if you were meant for each other. you truly believed that; believed in love. every minute spent with him was precious, savoring it. he treated you so well, like a man worshipping his queen. such a real gentleman. everything he did always took your breath away, making your heart flutter even if it was the smallest thing. no matter what, even if he got home late, he always made time for you.

but, unfortunately, that changed.

as time went on, three years into the relationship, the rose petals began falling apart one by one in a slow fashion. those late nights of him coming home became a repetitive affair. you would stay up just to see him, not caring if you were losing sleep. once he showed up, a simple kiss on the forehead and a muttered “miss you” were his way of acknowledging you before heading to the bathroom to shower then head straight to bed, not even waiting for you.

this tedious thing continued on. by the time you wake up, empty sheets were beside you. everyday has been spent with loneliness. you knew miguel was a hardworking, dedicated man. he worked at alchemax, a time-consuming job. he was considered one of the best employees so it was expected of him to busy most of the time. but you didn’t think it would lead to him coming home so late. part of you felt selfish because you know how much he loved his job and how important it was. however, you can’t help but miss your boyfriend. even if it was for a few minutes just hugging each other would be enough.

but the petals continued to fall.

the late nights were so tedious to the point you gave up and went straight to bed. miguel would come home so damn late, walking in the door at 4:00 in morning. you stopped leaving leftovers for him since the food you made were untouched and left cold. he was so fucking busy that he started canceling dates, especially last minute. at first, you understood due to his job. but he kept doing it to the point that you got so sick of it. your boyfriend was barely around anymore. you felt so lonely. some nights, tears ran down your face as you softly cried to yourself.

that’s when you realized the spark died.

the relationship was falling apart, crashing down like a paper plane. miguel was neglecting you, neglecting the relationship you built together. it seemed like he was dating his job more than his girlfriend. that’s what pissed you off. you couldn’t take it anymore.

as much as you didn’t want your love to end, you didn’t want to live in this place of isolation and negligence. you had to end it all.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

nervously fiddling with your hands, heart pounding in your chest, you sit at the dining table waiting for miguel to come home. he texted that he got off early, for the first time. that was your green light to tell him it’s over, despite how much you don’t want to. the anxiety flowing through your body makes you a bit nauseous. part of you is afraid of his reaction. but honestly, would he care much since he’s been a neglectful asshole? you just have to wait and see.

the sound of door unlocking makes your heart stop for a moment. with anxious eyes, you watch your boyfriend enter the apartment.

“hola, mi alma.”

the nickname and soft smile on his face hurts you. that’s the first time in two months since he smiled at you, actually happy to see and acknowledge you.

he must’ve notice your anxious expression the way his brows furrowed a bit. “what’s wrong—“

“sit down, miguel.”

tension fills in the room.

with a confused expression, miguel obeys and sits across from you. “¿que pasa, mi amor? did something happen? did someone say something to you? did they hurt you? if they hurt you, i’ll—“

“you hurt me, miguel.”

those mahogany eyes went wide. “wh-what?” he sounds in pure disbelief.

“you’re the who hurt me.” audible pain in your voice, making him flinch. “these past two fucking months have been so shitty. i’ve never felt so miserable.”

miguel was about to say something but you continue on, not giving him the fucking chance.

“i-i feel so fucking alone in this relationship. i’m not even sure if this is a relationship anymore.” you scoff. “because you’ve been neglecting it, neglecting me.”

his stomach drops. oh he fucked up.

“it feels like a one-sided relationship, one-sided love. i’m the only one who’s making an effort, and i’m fucking tired of it, miguel!” you voice raises a bit.

“mi amor, i—“ he chokes. “i-i’m sorry. i didn’t—“

“look,” you cut him off again. “i understand how important your job is. believe me, i tried my best. but you completely forgot there’s more than just your job!” a thin layer of tears begin forming in your eyes. “you come home late and i don’t see you! i wake up and you’re gone! you cancel dates all the time or never show up!” you’re practically shouting.

the tears in your eyes makes his heart crack, making his own swell in tears as well.

“i miss you, miguel! i miss you all the fucking time! i tried to be understanding but i’m fed up!” you cried, a few tears trailing down your flushed cheek.

a single tear drop from his eye falls down his face. his heart breaks at your sad yet truthful words. miguel knew his was way too focused on work. but fuck he didn’t realized how it affected you to the point of making you cry. and he hates it when you cry, especially if it’s him that you made.

“mi amor, i-i’m so sorry. i’m so sorry for making you feel like this. i was so invested with work, i didn’t realized-“

“exactly, you didn’t realized because you were dating your job than your girlfriend.”

that sentence hurts him, because it’s the truth. oh he really fucked up big time.

“i-i…” he struggles to find the right words.

“it’s over, miguel.”

now that shatters his heart completely.

“w-wait, mi amor. please—“ miguel panics, reaching out to you but you back away. his heart breaks more.

you shake your head, tears continuously falling down your cheeks. “it’s over, miguel. i can’t be the only one putting effort into this relationship. i don’t wanna be lonely and ignored anymore.”

now he’s the one crying. “pl-please, mi alma. i’m sorry, i’m so sorry. please don’t leave me. i promise to do better, to be better. please, just give me a chance. i need you, i can’t live without you. just please, mi alma. don’t leave me.”

“you’re the one who left me, miguel.”

miguel though his heart couldn’t break even more. he doesn’t want to lose you. he needs you, you’re his anchor, his sole reason to continue on, his reason to work so hard for. but that’s the exact reason why he’s losing you, was too invested in his work that he completely neglected you, the love of his life. pushed your needs and love away. now he has to suffer the consequences. to suffer the one fear he was deeply afraid of: losing you. especially by his own actions.

“i never wanted our love to end.” you flash him a sad smile, tears blurring your vision.

a night of tears, regret and sorrow. after the whole shitshow, you left. you packed all of your stuff because you knew this was your last time in this apartment. you weren’t going to stay any longer. despite how times miguel begged you not to go, even got down on his knees and cried out endless sorrys, you grabbed your bag and left.

miguel cried the entire night.

     ━━━━━━━━ ִ  ۫   ꒰ ♡ ꒱  ۫   ݂ ━━━━━━━━

it’s been eights months since the breakup. the tearful nights dimmed down but heart still broken. the aftermath is worse than the breakup. broken hearts are quick to burn but slow to heal. you’re not sure how long it will take for yours to heal.

you haven’t seen or spoken to miguel since. it’s ideal of course. after the breakup, you deleted his number and anything associated with him. before you did, he messaged you about giving him a chance to talk, to express his regret but you didn’t allow that. you were smarter than that. despite how much you still love him, you can’t let him in again. you can’t go through tears again, it would break you even more.

you truly never wanted your love to end. it was perfect from the start but not everything has a happy ending. that’s how life is. but your love is safe inside your memories, stored away in the back.

in the end, you will never be his again.

he had to say goodbye to the girl that he lost.

as you take one final look at pictures of you and miguel that were taken during your relationship before deleting them, you tell yourself one thing.

goodbye, my friend.

© teenidlegirl. don’t steal, plagiarize, or translate my work. ♡

#꒰ ˖ ࣪ . 𐙚 ⊹ ꒱ — 𝓞𝐍𝐄𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 .ᐟ #miguel o’hara x fem!reader #miguel o’hara x reader #miguel o'hara x fem!reader #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel o’hara x y/n #miguel o’hara x you #miguel o'hara #miguel o'hara angst #miguel o’hara angst #miguel o'hara fanfiction #miguel o’hara fanfiction #across the spiderverse #oneshot

[dangerpronebuddie]

Inspiration Saturday!!

Tagged by @theotherbuckley @diazsdimples who both posted INCREDIBLE stuff y'all should show some love 🩷💚

I'm focusing on Eddie's second oh moment right now, but the other night I was writing for my Miss Fisher's Murder Mysteries AU and decided to try something... I made my first moodboard!!! I like it, but I might change it up a bit as I keep writing for it.

Ta da!! And here's a snippet to go with it:

Buck crouched and opened the cabinet by the sink. An opened box of pink packets sat turned on its side in the cabinet. The box read Nerve Powders. Something at the back of his mind told him there was more to it than that. A sharp knock echoed off the tile in the bathroom. “This lavatory is fully occupied!” Buck called as he closed the cabinet, stowing away a few packets in his jacket. “Police! Open up!” Damn. Buck stood and opened the door, plastering on his charming smile. Good Christ. Detective Diaz from a distance was a sight to behold in itself. Up close? Adonis wouldn't stand a chance. Coffee brown eyes shone in the light streaming in from the window. A wayward wave fell across his forehead, the only thing out of place in his otherwise immaculate appearance. His bone structure was beyond perfect.

He carried himself with a relaxed confidence Buck spent years faking. How this man achieved it? Buck didn't know. “You must be the detective,” Buck said. “Apologies for my urgent call of nature.” “You do realize this is an active crime scene,” Detective Diaz pointed out. Wow, even his voice was gorgeous. “Forgive me, detective,” Buck smiled. “It's very fortunate I'm wearing gloves, is it not?” Diaz stepped past Buck and stared at the chalk outline on the floor, his brow furrowed in concentration, the smallest pout on his lips. Buck turned to the officer standing near the doorway. “Do you think it was poison?” “Most likely,” the officer nodded. “We have yet to determine the cause of death,” Detective Diaz said with a pointed look at his officer. Oh, what Buck wouldn't do to see the man be a little mean to him too. Buck honestly hoped Detective Diaz would arrest him. Buck could show him a thing or two with those handcuffs. Not that he’d ever voice that thought out loud.

Absolutely no pressure tagging: @13shadesofanni @lover-of-mine @monsterrae1 @loveyouanyway @thekristen999

@daffi-990 @wikiangela @kitteneddiediaz @steadfastsaturnsrings @ronordmann

@exhuastedpigeon @spagheddiediaz @actuallyitsellie @tizniz @fortheloveofbuddie

@bidisasterevankinard @rainbow-nerdss @wildlife4life @hippolotamus @daniwib

@alliaskisthepossibilityoflove @likeamollusconarock @smallandalmosthonest @idealuk @jshadow01

@shipperqueen6 @lunarspark-cos @misshiss727 @weareallstoriesintheend11 @lin27 @orangeboxfox92 and anyone else who wants to share!! 🥰🩷

#911 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie #911 abc #9-1-1 #fanfic #my writing #mfmm au #buddie wip #911 wip #inspiration saturday

[lesbianphan]

I know this is gonna be mushy and overly emotional and I'm sorry for oversharing a bit, but I feel like it's necessary to put into words what rewatching We're All Doomed means to me personally. I watched the kiswe premiere event live and it was one of the most fun nights I've had in a while, even though my life felt extremely hopeless at the time.

And, look, here's the thing: when the WAD premiere dropped, I had completely given up on improving things. In fact, I was very much in the 'doomed' mentality. I had long accepted that there was no way my life would get better. So Dan's message really resonated with me: it's easy to settle for being at rock bottom and thinking that's all there is for me. I was happy to see Dan doing better, but deep down I didn't truly believe his words either, not really. I did want to, but I wasn't quite there. And I don't believe them all the time, as he himself said he doesn't, and doing the show many times hammers the point home into his head.

After experiencing it, I thought maybe, just maybe, I could stop only embracing the void, but start having the courage to exist as well. Putting myself out there more, trying to make a world for myself in which I'm not the :/ emoji all the time. So I applied for the jobs, I wrote what I wanted, I unapologetically embraced the nerdy things and the fandoms I enjoyed. I decided I can choose happiness in the smallest of ways, even when it sounds silly and unimportant. Because it isn't unimportant really if it means something to me.

Rewatching the show last night showed me how much it changed my life and the big leaps it helped me take in life. I have so much more to learn, but I keep telling myself to be brave (lmao sorry had to sneak the Phil reference) and have the courage to exist. Really truly exist out in the world, not hidden inside my room. And sure, some days are harder than the others, some days I really don't like myself at all. Even in those days, though, I tell myself: all I have to do is have the courage to exist.

I went in to watch WAD with no expectations, and I feel like the message of appreciating the little moments was so monumental, it truly absolutely had a huge impact in my own life. I have a job now, and some financial stability. To be honest, I never thought I'd get this job, I might not even have applied if I wasn't in this mindset. In so many ways, Dan and Phil have profoundly changed my life, and I think WAD is just one of those big examples.

I doubt the real humans Dan and Phil will ever understand the impact they've had on this world, but I'll forever wish them the best. I'll always support them, because their creations have irrevocably changed me as a person, and as much as I like joking around and stuff, I'm just thankful that we share this existence, and we get to have fun and be forever changed by it.

Thanks @danielhowell, you'll never know how huge the impact of this show was, but I am truly crying writing this and I hope one day I get to tell you in person how much you inspired me to keep going when no one else would.

#obligatory come to Brazil comment so I can meet you Dan #daniel howell #danisnotonfire #(lmao soz) #Dan Howell #We're all doomed #WAD #amazingphil #Phil Lester #Dan and Phil #phan #dnp #sheesh I'm crying now help ahaha #amanda yaps #personal

[stinkykitty8]

My beatiful boy Hanz

(Hanz belongs to me!!! Everything else credits to Gatobob!!!)

WARNING

This post contains very heavy topics, nsfw, r@pe, 18+ stuff, and overall just not very good things. Do not read if you are sensitive to these things.

Read warnings before pressing more please!!!

Hanz was conceived through rape. After Ren ran off Strade tried to find a replacement for him. The replacement being a very beatiful woman and yet another victim to Strade's doings. Unlike Ren, Strade never let her roam free to make sure she doesn't escape the same way Ren did. Instead she was locked in the basement 24/7 shackled and collared and checked daily to make sure nothing was lose or she tried breaking off. Thats where she stayed the entire time being with Strade as he abused, tortured, and r@ped her. And through all of this she had fallen pregnant which wasnt surprising. Strade was actually expecting it to happen. Strade decided to go along with it and make her have the baby. Almost like he wanted a kid. Shortly after Hanz was born Strade really didnt see any other use for Hanz's mom so he ended up killing her and burning her body to ash. The ash is currently burried in his back yard. Hanz will never find out what happened to his mom and if ever asked Strade would never say, change the subject, or just shrug it off and laugh. Hanz was a little spoiled rich kid growing up. He was sent with 20 bucks ince for snacks at school and hes seen as a rich boy. Strade never hit him once (even though he needs it) and the worst he probably did was just yell but that was it. Strade didnt really care when he got phone calls from school because of Hanz's behavior. If anything he found it funny and encouraged it as long as he didnt go to far to be kicked out. He especially found it funny when it came to messing with Yoki. After the first day of school strades interest was peaked after Hanz mentioned a certain orange tail and ear having freak from school. And after finding out that little beast belonged to Ren he just encouraged Hanz to fuck with her more. Basically using him to get to Ren. Although Strade never physically abused Hanz he mentally abused him without Hanz really even realizing or noticing. He raised Hanz "like a man" so most times it was just him telling hanz to suck it up or trying to make him have the mindset to act like a man and not give a fuck about much else. It made Hanz really treat women horribly at that time and even the smallest things like a dude having something pink he would call them gay. Even refused to hold a purse because 'it was to gay'.

Hanz was always seen as the tough kid in school, always threatening to beat kids asses or threatening them that his dad would take legal action if they hurt him. He was all bark no bite though. When put in an actual situation like fighting he would fold and pussy out. He got into a fight once with Yoki and she left without a scratch and he left with cuts and bites that later got infected. Strade was pissed, not because Yoki hurt hanz, but because she hurt his blood. And it was almost seen as a disgrace to him and would tell Hanz how disappointed he was. Hanz always tries to be perfect and make his father proud so of course he apologizes because he thinks he didnt do enough especially for that. Hanz would do anything to make his father proud even doing things out of his comfort zone.

Strade always kept a thick padlock on the basement door and because of the sound proofing nothing was ever heard down bellow. Hanz always thought he just wasnt allowed down because thats where Strade worked and it probably had a lot of tools or objects Hanz woukd hurt himself with. One day Hanz got a little to nosey and decided to explore the basement after Strade left to the store but strade forgot his keys and came back to see the basement door open and Hanz nowhere to be found. What Hanz saw down into the basement changed his entire view of life and his entire perspective of his father. He probably saw some very badly tortured woman tied to a pole bleeding and begging Hanz for help. Of course any young child would be horrified of this even though Hanz says he could take things like that. And so when trying to leave the basement strade was standing there up top glaring at him. Strade locked the basement door with Hanz in it and left Hanz in the basement overnight. Even though Hanz was kicking, hitting, and screaming at the door repeatedly apologizing, Strade did not allow him out until the morning. Even mocking hanz saying things like "I thought you were a man why are you crying?" Even though he was about only 12. Hanz learned very quickly not to snoop around again. After that he was very quiet at school and stayed to himself. Messing with people seemed to stop and he even went so far as to give shitty apologies to the kids he fucked with. He couldn't tell anyone what he saw or and learned so he kept it a secret and "maned up" like his father said. The strong live and the weak die. He pushed that mindset on Hanz so much he believed it and began thinking Strade was doing good by just getting rid of the weak and cleaning the world. Over time Hanz was forced to help with streaming until it was basically his new job. But over time it got a little easier for him since it became a normal thing, even though he still had an ick for it. But he had to do it to make his dad proud.

Over time he ended up starting to form a semi relationship with Yoki. Nothing serious. He never really knew much about Ren either at thay time until snooping on the web and checking out some of Strades older streams and seeing Ren in them. Of course recognizing it was Yoki's father he told Yoki about it and she just couldn't believe it until she saw it and then it brought out into a small fight that was settled. Hanz had always tried to be seen as some big hotshot badass but deep down hes really just a big softie. Especially when hes older. Hes still a prick sometimes but not to Yoki or Basil anymore. Hanz is absolutely majestic. Overall just being a better version of Strade looks and health wise (Strade doesn't understand why hes so good). Unlike Yoki he actually has his own credit card and him and Strade split the cash they make on streams.

IF YOU HAVE ANY QUESTIONS ASK!!! :3

(Hopefully this all makes sense XP)

#btd #boyfriend to death #btd oc #fan kids #btd fan kids #ren hana #strade #hanz #tpof #the price of flesh #kittys fan kids #kitty8 ocs

[fujoshigirl7]

I binge watched dead boy detectives and man staying up till 4am was worth finishing it

So here are some of the thoughts I wanted to share

I keep on seeing Edwin being said to be repressed but honestly I feel that he's just a very factual and honest lad. He'll always say whatever is on his mind. I mean I know he didn't elaborate about his rendezvous with the cat King initially but only because he himself didn't know what it was. Once he figured out what it was, he just wanted to confess as soon as could. He could have chosen not to share given how he knew charles' interest in crystal but he chose to be honest. I think that is also the reason why he couldn't understand charles anguish and trauma cause he thought just how he is upfront about everything, charles must be too and hence never gave it much thought that he might have not shared certain things.

I love how it's perceived as Edwin complimenting a rare thing but if you notice he hands out praises to charles for the smallest of things and even to nico as well. I can imagine how bad it must have been for charles to keep on hearing he wasn't good enough through out his life and here comes this ghost who appreciates his memory recall, his reasoning or literally anything. How changing and refreshing charles must have felt to be appreciated.

Nico really lived upto her name bringing smiles to everyone.

#dead boy detectives #dead boy detective agency #edwin payne #charles rowland #just some random thoughts #may not be accurate #please watch it #so we can have a second season T.T

[beelzzzebub]

do i go to sleep bc it's christmas and i know my family will be up in the morning. or do i watch doctor who / read more go fanfiction bc i want to

#boink #asking the real questions #feeling so very alone rn #bleh #i've felt disappointed at my level of excitement for christmas before #because it's such an event in my life #an event where everything is the exact same and i really need that #but this year that's already fucked up #and even the smallest things have changed #big things. massive things. and then even the small things so i can't even focus on those #anyway any time i think that maybe we can just have the day. i remember what's been. idk. going down. #and i just #i'm apathetic #i hate that i am #i want to be as happy as i always am #god i mean i'd rather be desperate for it like i've been the last couple years #but instead i don't want it to happen at all #i wish i could postone #anyway #it is what it is #really not that big of a deal #i'm just a dramatic bitch #i should chill out

[wesavegotham]

The different parts of Gotham War not lining up at all in terms of plot, character motivation and characterization is bad enough, but now that DC is suddenly trying to explain when other titles like Detective Comics and Batman and Robin are taking place in relation to Gotham War it gets even worse because now all of these storylines make so much less sense too.

#Gotham War #Listing all the reasons why Gotham War and Ram V's Tec run don't fit together would be complicated #Because they are doing similar things with a similar cast of characters but in extremely different ways #And I don't have the energy to go through both storylines to get the details right #But Batman and Robin is simple #You can't have a cozy father-son-story and Bruce going insane and shoving all the parental responsibilities onto Dick #to be a brooding loner again taking place at the same time #Is the entire Batman and Robin book supposed to take place during the few days that Damian was the only one on Bruce's side in GW #Before Bruce abandoned Damian? #Because unlike when Death in the Family happened you can't even use the excuse that Damian changed his mind #And decided to stay with Bruce even though dinf ended with everyone including Dami not showing up at the talk Bruce wanted to have with the #Which was what they did in B&R 2011 #Because back then it was the family that decided they didn't want to work with Bruce anymore #In GW it's Bruce who tells them to leave him alone #He very explicitly abandons Damian despite the fact that Damian didn't betray him and stayed loyal #So this time Damian can hardly change his mind and decide to stick by Bruce because it's Bruce who rejected him #I'm still so confused by Zdarsky putting that in the story in the first place because he clearly has very little interest in Damian #Out of all the male Robins he played the smallest part in this #It probably would have been better for B&R if Damian had been somehow absent for Gotham War like in a lot of previous batfam events #And left the time B&R takes place unspecified #So that it just takes place in its own bubble #I'm usually all for DC telling us how things fit together but for that to be good things need to actually line up #And not outright contradict each other

[crabussy]

partake in joyous whimsy or eat my sword

#listen to my gibberish boy #listen. you MUST find giddy childish whimsy in your life #even the smallest things #saw a funny worm?? smelt a delicious smell???? laughed out loud?? NOTICE IT!!!! CELEBRATE IT!!!! #make it a habit to consciously notice the small things I promise you this is fucking life changing #this isn’t some neurotypical fake-advice bullshit I have so many problem #but notice my boyish whimsy. I fought for it. try your hardest to fight for whimsy in your own life #it is very important

[keii]

My Ride or Die~

#my eyes are glued to goro's peach i am... #even tho i drew it i... this is what jowa's willing to die for!! LJADSLFKJASD #THAT'S HIS!!! #Jowa holds up a photographer at a studio and demands the photographer to take a pic of them #Jowa looks around and says 'what the fuck is up w the LIGHTING fix it!!!' #Thank u suicide squad for the inspo... after almost a year later i have finished #look at them... don't they look so happy... LKJADSLFJK #look like any small thing could make them crack LOOL #art #killamonart #killaocs #joro #jowa #goro #goro belongs to sushi! #original characters #oc #the fact that i would send diff updates to sushi bc i kept changing the smallest details LOL

[itspileofgoodthings]

I talk a lot about teaching and all the good parts of it and the powerful parts of it and it’s all true and also there is something so deeply messy and ugly and raw and painful about the real life exchange of it all and how much I just put myself on the line to communicate a truth and how little I get given back in any tangible or metaphysical way.

#wrong use of the word metaphysical but I can’t think of the right one so it will just have to do #if I had certainty that it was doing good then I would take any lack of recompense #but you don’t get certainty. that’s just part of the deal #you just get ingratitude and flatness and boredom and also the knowledge that you’re stupid if you expected any different! #yes yes all the good stuff i say is real #but this part of it is real too! I am really struggling with it at the moment #I wish there was a way to wrangle my expectations and get them in order #and just take what I get as par for the course #because it literally is #I also wish there was a way for me to be more professional in my actual profession #And I am not unprofessional #but I guess every time I’m going to want to put it all on the line even for the smallest chance of changing someone’s mind or heart #but like. Truly sometimes it’s just like—-but i don’t know that it’s wise or worth it to do it #Or if it’s doing any good at all #like truly I don’t mean it in a whiny way #Well a little bit lol #But I also just mean: who knows? Who can say for sure? Not me. #there’s not any guarantee. And also I’m sure some of the methods I use could use work. I’m sure in the grand scheme of things I don’t know #what I’m doing!! anyway I’m so so sad #and it has been a hard week! #it will pass. as will the feeling I’m sure #thanks for listening #teaching tag

[good-beanswrites]

Heyo!! :D uhh I was just thinking about prompts!! I have two that I've just been thinking of! You can do one or the other, I don't mind ^^ Yuno with Blanket (if you havent done that yet :o) and Muu and Yuno with Honesty :D

Thank you so much :D!! Your writing is so funky I love reading it, it's like my daily newspaper abejfncjcn

Hi Mug :D thank you so much aah!! I really loved these combos, that's so sweet for both of them ;-; Here's Yuno and Blanket -- something lighthearted from the beginning of t1, with a bit of her unfortunate people-pleasing habits.

“Requests are in!” Mikoto’s voice sang from down the corridor. The prisoners perked up from where they’d been lazing about. One would have thought he'd announced a jailbreak with the amount of energy that rippled through the room. Yuno leapt to her feet.

"You seem excited," Kazui chuckled as he stood. "What are you getting?"

She suddenly felt a twinge of shame for her reaction. Things weren’t bad in Milgram by any means, but the atmosphere was beginning to creep under her skin now and then. There was an old comfort she’d been dreaming of the past few weeks. It felt embarrassing to say to someone as concerned with his maturity as Kazui. 

"Oh, nothing much,” she said. “Just something that reminds me of home, like the cigarettes you ordered." She didn’t know him well enough to say so, but she was secretly grateful for his request. The smell of smoke was familiar to her as well. "But mostly it's something new around here -- isn't the whole thing exciting?" 

It was the first time they’d received a delivery, and everyone was eager to see if they got what they ordered. Though Yuno found the system surprising, it made sense. Milgram allowed more unique freedoms than a normal prison, given it also inflicted more unique restraints. 

She joined the group heading down the hall, all chattering in anticipation. 

"Yuno!" Mahiru waved her over. The woman had talked about the products and creams she'd requested, in the hope of keeping up her skincare routine. Yuno would be following suit soon, though she wanted those things to keep herself feeling refreshed rather than looking a certain way. There was no one here to impress. With her looks, that was.

Mahiru’s eyes gleamed. "What did you order?"

Yuno knew she wouldn't satisfy her appetite for gossip as much as Shidou testing his luck with medical supplies or Amane’s taste in high-level study materials had. 

"Something real cute~" was all she needed to say to get her giggling. 

Es instructed them to line up in front of their room to distribute everything. Yuno found her place behind Haruka. 

"Hey, hey! What are you getting?" She wasn't immune from that same gossipy curiosity…

His cheeks immediately reddened. "Uh, well, I h-hope I can get some c-candy. It -- I mean, it's kiddish, I know."

"Don't worry, some might think my request is childish, haha! Plus, I think Muu ordered sweets, too."

This seemed to calm him a bit as he walked ahead. Fuuta nudged her from behind.

"Oi, what did you ask for?"

She'd overheard him and Kotoko discussing what would likely be caught as a tool to escape, and knew her answer would disappoint him.

The bright smile she’d given Haruka angled into a more jaded smirk. "Eh, just something to get me through the night, you know? A practical comfort."

Fuuta grunted, respecting the choice. 

Her attention returned to the front of the line, where Haruka was returning with loose treats spilling from his hands. She took his place in Es' doorway.

"Prisoner 002," Es scanned a piece of paper. "For you… ah,” They read it again. “Just a blanket? Was that all?" 

She beamed. "Yup! Just a blanket." 

“You strike me as the kind to ask for a lot…”

“Mmm, you’ve read me well, Warden! Not this time, though. Gotta start small, then see what I can weasel out of you!” She winked. As usual, Es pretended to be unimpressed. Yuno knew she was wearing them down, bit by bit.

She offered a bouncy bow as Es handed it over. She hadn’t given many specifications, but it certainly looked as big and fluffy as she had hoped. Milgram had gone with pink -- the same shade as some of her uniform accents. 

"Thanks!" 

The prisoners' excitement died down fairly quickly afterwards. Amane began reading in silence. Kazui retreated to the smoking room alone, though Shidou and Mikoto promised to join him after the next round of requests. Haruka had nearly finished eating all of his candy by nightfall. Kotoko sat by herself to jot things down in her new notebook. Yuno’s good mood lasted much later. 

Once the bell had rung and silence fell onto the prison, she could feel the usual chill start to creep into her cell. It had gripped her with fear the first few nights -- that unshakable coldness that reminded her why she was here in the first place. Sometimes, when her body jolted her awake with the feeling of falling, she'd blame it on the temperature rather than a universal human experience. It brought up too many painful memories to be something so ordinary, after all.

But not tonight. 

Tonight there would be no falling, and no chill. No stepping into bed with enough skin showing to make her shiver. No more crafted conversations or flashing certain expressions.

A goofy grin spread across her cheeks. Yuno unfolded the blanket with a flourish. She swept it around her body, then flopped down on her bedding. With nothing more to worry about, she sank into the cushy blob.

‘Just a blanket’ her ass. This was the warmest she’d felt in a very long time.

#milgram #yuno kashiki #and others but shes the focus #thanks pal!! this made me so happy :))) it was so fun! #sorry if the tone is all over the place -- ive stared at it too long this weekend and i cant tell RIP #i wanted it to be cute and have some chill t1 vibes #and when youre homesick or just really going through it even the smallest physical comforts can be a huge deal #but also shes So Deep in the habit of changing herself to please others while also goin through it ;--; #i wanted to include my hc that when she gets that body-falling feeling its even more stressful because... well... #i hope you enjoy!! #ill be posting the honesty one soon -- i wanted to today but work completely fried my brain into scrampled egg -_- #i know i can do one or the other but i always get so imspired by both asdfsdfs #i have an idea and definitely want to keep running with it! #a liar and someone whos a bit too honest... #oh and i forgot to mention that the smell of smoke thing was mentioned in one of the timeline conversations! #she likes it but she never elaborates on why #im projecting because i really like the smell of cigarette smoke because it reminds me of my grandfather so i think itd make her think of #home/family :') #i couldn't remember if it was an interrogation question or timeline but im almost positive it was the latter #drabbles

[shamemp3]

sociology and anthropology are everything to me … like they are so broad because they are the study of humans and their lives and interactions and feelings and etc etc and its broad enough that you can have a class about genuinely ANYTHING because sociology is engrained in everything around us…and the message my profs leave us with every time is that the human experience is so unique and dynamic and yet universally there are still so many similarities and connections that keep us bonded together. and these studies make us find bits and pieces in humanity literally everywhere like you can look at a piece of string or like garbage on the floor or be placed into the strangest situations and have the most mundane interactions on the street and you will find yourself going like ‘:] wow humans are so interesting and this world is so interesting. why did this happen what made this person like this?’ like!!! ​i just like how broad this study is and how every class can be abt smth completely different but the main idea will always be about the human experience and connection. i love my major sorry im done now

#never in my life did i think i would acc have a passion for studying bro it sucked the soul out of me up until like last year #and my prof going like studying soc & anthro have made her be able to distance herself from a situation even a really shitty one and just be #like. huh. this is so interesting time to observe. And jts SO TRUE like u notice the little things in like hand gestures or pauses or a way #someone moves their arm or literaly anything and u go like omg this is so <3 what made this person do this rly small thing like even our #smallest subconscious actions are a part of us [symbolic interactionism moment] #and my prof saying how anthro and ethnography projects need u to adapt all the time and be able to let go of yourself and change your #identity and expect new things all the time like thats all ive ever been looking for is constant change & stimulation i need this PLEASW #like this is sociology linguistics psychology language science all put together into one major. to me. and i looove that #ok sorry done

[genderfeel]

pov just finished majora’s mask for the first time

#there’s sm here………. sm #like have u considered the confusion of being a child and carrying the weight of adulthood #but how friendship and love in even the smallest encounters is lifesaving #have you considered that every single person who has shown you kindness cares about you. have u #anyway playing this after totk makes totk look like complete ass it’s ridiculous #mm said we are here to ruminate on the permanence of death. there are some things you cannot change and you have to live on #meanwhile totk is just: sorry what are consequences idk her #odd considering how much botw has in common with mm’s themes on death for it to do such a heel turn #totk was surface level dark in aesthetics but its commentary on actual dark themes is more shallow than a kiddie pool #mm takes it and embraces every part of the nasty bits of grief and loss and hopelessness and balances it with love #totk my despised #em posts

[mockiatoh]

My biggest frustration with the left has always been the inability/unwillingness to work on making progress inside of the system while advocating for greater change.

I remember the first time I came to this realization.

I was nineteen, pregnant. We couldn’t afford to heat the house because we couldn’t afford the deposit to turn the gas on. It was miserably cold. The duplex we were renting was old and rickety and drafty. The window frames were messed up and there were cracks you could stick your finger through that were open to the elements.

Just, like, to give you an idea where we were financially. And this was better than we’d been doing before!

Anyway, I had recently started going to DSA meetings. And that month, they were talking about how a moderate democrat had successfully gotten a small increase in WIC benefits monthly. It came out to, like, $10 a month.

The members talking—mostly male, almost all doing decent—were scornful. The democrat should have pushed harder and gotten more, refused to accept anything until everyone else caved to their demands. I remember sitting there, quietly drinking the latte in the smallest size they had that I had bought with scrounged quarters, listening. Wishing it wasn’t held in an indie coffee shop because it was a luxury I really couldn’t afford, but it would be rude not to. Enjoying the coffee anyway.

I was one of the lucky ones who was getting that additional $10 a month through WIC. Even more exciting, we were now getting a voucher for the farmers’ market. I casually mentioned that WIC recipients would now be getting farmers’ market vouchers, too.

The guy who organized the meetings was a hard worker, passionate guy. Did something in tech.

He was like, “That’s the thing! These people don’t want farmers market vouchers. They want—” and he went on to describe a bunch of pie in the sky desires. That, yeah, sounded good.

But one. I was one of those people! A lot if the tamiles were super excited about it, myself included.

I had never been to a farmers’ market before. I tried arugula for the first time, a piece pulled from a bunch by the grower as he explained the flavor difference. I hadn’t known before then that different lettuce greens had different flavors, that it was more than just the texture and shape. I tried pesto, which delighted me. Goat cheese. I got three full pounds of strawberries for two dollars, since they were closing soon and the old man selling the berries got a kick out of me.

Anyway. It was like, you have a decent life. Not great but decent! The things that are life changing for me, for us… you already have.

The ten dollars at the grocery store made the difference between a meal of broken-noodles-with-some-half-horrible-pantry-scraps and a meal. It kept me full and healthy! And the additional farmers’ market voucher was world changing for me.

The democrat who worked for those things barely got them through. And it was means tested to hell and back. They weren’t able to get everything they wanted. But what they got made such a huge difference for me, for people like me.